#kamuito

[nulltune]

goldenrod :   does your muse believe in luck or fortune? why or why not?   where do they believe these things come from ?

botanical headcanons,   open !   @kamuito  ♡

kinda?! though i think luck to hakuno is more of a measure/probability of how much chance is on your side... something similar to fate in that it's something that happens to a person which is beyond their control, but different. if fate is an inevitable outcome or condition or end; then luck would be what postpones or subverts that. hakuno doesn't want to believe in fate, but she does believe in luck-- something like luck as an unexpected event that goes in her favor.

i feel like i gotta mention this that in canon, she does has a skill to increase luck actually! she used it on herself to help with dodging attacks, whichhh i don't get either because she dodged them by seeing and observing the attacks herself, but yeah!!

hakuno's always been told that she's lucky to survive/make it this far (even though that was all because of her own effort 😡) so i think that does play a role in this. she's inclined to believe in luck because she's a "lucky" person. it's not necessarily a good mindset because that's how hakuno and others brushes off her own skills and accomplishments (by attributing it to luck)— which is really more of her lack of confidence in herself rather than being someone who truly believes in luck.

if you ask her about fortune then the first thing that comes to her mind is its other non-luck related definition (hakuno vc a large amount of money or assets?) but she does believe in it too!

she believes in luck and fortune in a pretty specific way though... like, if she happened to find money on the street, she wouldn't thinking something like "what a lucky day!" but something more realistic like "that was lucky." — as in, what happened just now was an unlikely outcome, but it did occur and it was helpful for me. so, more to do with probabilities rather than psychology or the power of a positive attitude or something.

she doesn't believe luck can be altered either, so she doesn't believe in superstitions like blacks cats or four-leaf clovers, but she won't be outright dismissive of people who do believe in them. hakunochan is very openminded like that ☆

and while it isn't really applicable to herself, hakuno does think that the concept of "you make your own luck" is pretty neat. it's something about how it's that belief in something that gives it worth and value... like how that raggedy old sock may not be anything important or have anything special about it, but when someone believes that it is, then that's what makes it special. that's a mindset that really resonates with her :,) it's her. She is da sock

[amemai]

perhaps she wouldn't have expected him to remember - but, oh, unfortunately he's gotten much better at remembering things, forced himself to, as he slipped further into the role of ghost bestowed upon him by his grandfather. the man - unmasked, catching her when alone, smiles ever so teasingly as he comes up from behind. a gloved hand loosely wraps around her wrist, bringing it up to her shoulder as he presses a kiss to her knuckle, pressed up against her back.

"happy birthday, angel." he hums, almost gingerly. "how easy it is to forget that you're a bit older than me, sometimes."

what a jester he is.

she is able to sense his presence in the split second that he physically manifests. at this point, they've had enough encounters for her to learn how to pick up on the utmost subtle cues where others do not. it is why she does not visibly tense up. if anything, she fully welcomes it. embracing it, embracing him maneuvering her like this. she feels as though she could sink backwards into his embrace and be consumed. after all, it's happened before -- the world around her becoming distorted & warped as he whisked her away to his own private domain, a timeless limbo with no witnesses to all that unfolded.

the possibility of such a thing happening again is enough to keep her in a good mood. enough to pay no mind to the acknowledgement initially. by this point, she's grown more than fond of even that pet name he so insistently favors. angel. his tongue sings it with a different kind of devotion as opposed to all others who've spoken it before. perhaps tonight she will hear that song once more. angel, angel, angel. . .

unfortunately, the blissful thought is ruined by the second sentence.

the embrace which he's captured her in unravels. without warning, she explodes into a million paper butterflies scattering dramatically from the scene. a few may have unintentionally left him with papercuts, though she knows they will heal quickly on his part. nonetheless, she hopes one of them stings.

then, she reappears before him, just out of arms reach. a frown on her face, deeply unamused.

❝  yes, how often i forget as well. that you act like a boy rather than a man.  ❞

( perhaps she's being a tad dramatic, on purpose. being difficult like this means he'll have to work harder to earn her affections back once more. )

[chidoried-a]

@kamuito replied to your post with: obito: if i'm going to therapy, bakashi, so are you.

" what'd you say? I can't hear you over the sound of rustling paperwork I have as hokage, you know because I stay busy and stuff .. Hokage things. " he heard you.

[chidoried-a]

it's weird to say, but obito isn't sure he ever "realized" he liked kakashi. it just sorta... happened, one day. at first, kakashi was always someone he looked up to as the son of the white fang, someone talented & willing to put his mind to whatever he wanted to do. even as they got closer, even as their friendship turned into bickering, there was never a moment obito could confidently say he didn't like kakashi.

even after tragedy struck, kakashi was never blamed for the things that happened. obito wanted him to be happy - perhaps more than anyone else - in the infinite tsukuyomi. & even, to top it all off, kakashi is the one who he feels ... saved him, in some regard, from himself. from what could have happened.

obito never realized when he liked kakashi. liking kakashi has sort of ... always been a part of him, no matter how much he'd like to say otherwise.

love? well, he's always had a bit of a crush on him, but obito only truly realized it was love when he & kakashi stood next to each other, facing madara for the sake of the world. betraying your ideals that you've had for the better half of your life ... that's not just something you do for someone you like. that's love. that's when obito realizes it's love.

tell me about the moment your muse realised they liked mine, platonic or otherwise!

I want you to understand kakashi is standing here like this right now:

[amemai]

❛ it’s not so bad, angel. being dead. it’s like being alive, only colder. ❜

there is a hole. it is cavernous and frightening to gaze upon. it even looks painful just from plainly staring. there is nothingness. it is no delusion. it is his truest, most vulnerable form. and he takes her hand and places it dangerously close, her fingers skimming at the very precipise of the abyss. trust, there is immense trust with this action. to show her this form, to let her feel it -- to practically beg for her touch. it had been his hands grasping her reluctant own, as thought her very touch sent electric jolts through him. reminders that he still lived, in spite of these words.

you have always been warm to me. a strange thought to have, but not a lie. would sharing that notion provide him a semblance of comfort, to know that while he may feel cold, his touch to another is akin to a furnace?

( it's the proof that he still lived, despite whatever malicious whispers may tell him otherwise. konan knows what the touch of a corpse is like. she has recoiled from even the accidental brushes of pain -- the hollowed ghost of yahiko, the lie -- and the always accompanying chill of it. )

❝  let me --  ❞ she starts to say, then stops herself. lips pursing tightly. swallowing down her impulses. the hesitation keeps her in a momentary chokehold. what has started must be finished. ❝  let me fill that hole, if you would have me.  ❞

the image of angels as miraclous healers comes to mind. she cannot truly seal the hole with her paper jutsu. nor could she offer half of her own bloodied heart in hand. she doesn't think he'd want that either. ❝  let me breathe life into you once more.  ❞

i cannot bear it, the thought of you dead. she thinks back on it, her tendency to so willingly open her heart to only the dead. yahiko, a ghost. nagato, half - dead. now obito, undead. but what if . . . what if she could unmake that, somehow? perhaps that makes her as delusional as he is. it is a madness which she has so willingly flung herself into.

[amemai]

❛ did i not come to you on my knees with a kingdom in my hand ? ❜

a nation drenched in blood, robbed of an entire generation because of inhuman practices disguised as so - called warrior traditions. a land of inconquerable greatness crippled into ruin beyond recognition. amegakure weeps, nearly reduced to ashes from warfare which she herself never asked to partake in. but kirigakure is silent. an eerie land of mist and graveyards, it is gutted from the inside out.

she's never quite understood why. yes, there were certainly useful resources to extract. but something about his intent always seemed so particularly. . . personal.

❝  i never asked for this.  ❞ she hisses, a harsh whisper as she recoils from him, garnering distance. it is for her own safety. the brute that he becomes when most intensely focused on his hatred for this place is not someone she wishes to be nearby. this was a particularly harsh lesson she learned, she needed to learn only once. ❝  i wanted to rebuild my own kingdom, not destroy another who has nothing to do with its ruin.  ❞

idiot, she narrowly bites her tongue on the insult. perhaps if it'd been konoha or amegakure . . . as impossible as that would've been, of course, but perhaps it would be a different story.

[allgather]

based on this concept for @kamuito​

shisui falls in and out of consciousness laying washed up on the riverbank. he can sense a presence as it approaches him, a mass of energy. his awareness is fading quickly, even violent shivering from cold air against damp skin feeling distant before long. yet, there is something familiar about the arms that gather him up and hold him tightly to their chest. a fleeting sense memory. a flash of something from early childhood. warmth; he’s been held like this before.

shisui is pulled under before he can place the feeling to a face or a moment in time. but he has the inexplicable feeling that he’s being carried home. like a child who has fallen asleep too soon. like a person who still has a home to return to.

---

the first thing shisui notices about obito’s chakra is its deep familiarity, though his actual memories of obito are fleeting, brief. more than just familiar, it is familial. it’s hard to put into words, but there is something that resonates within shisui when they are in proximity. another sense memory. walking through the gates of the uchiha compound, surrounded by similar energies, different in their minutia, but familiar on a molecular level. he feels it now; as if the energies within their veins hum at the same frequency. as if being of the same clan ties them together in ways they still fail to fully grasp.

it’s powerful, the always-buzzing, ever-burning mass of energy that makes up obito’s being. often so strong, so unruly that it obscures the shape of the man entirely. ( and there is something else in there that shisui doesn’t recognize. a competing yet complimentary energy, taken root within obito’s own. they mingle together, bolster one another. it’s strange, yet it makes obtio’s chakra so very distinct, allows shisui to pick him out a mile away ). 

it should scare him, likely does scare his enemies on the battlefield when they feel the rush of it in the prickle on the back of their neck, but shisui feels peace. they are the same; his own chakra burns with a familiar tenacity. the particles of his being speak a familial tongue. one that tells him they are kin. blood. family.

[chidoried-a]

one of my angst memes I reblogged the other day | @kamuito asked: " Nothing feels right. Nothing feels the same. "

His face felt bare without the porcelain mask he was always supposed to wear, though the cloth mask that took up his face will still easily in place over half his face as it always was. Fingers fidget with an unfamiliar flak jacket, mismatched eyes search the mask of the others that reveals nothing to him as a glowing eye from behind the mask stares at him.

He's not sure why Mizukage - sama requested he wear a Konohagakure jonin uniform to meet him, hell, Sanbi's not sure where it had even come from ( it was an entire set all the way up tot he headband ). Speaking of the headband, there had been something that had struck him so wrong about putting it on given the fact that he was a kirigakure shinobi . . . but staring at himself in the mirror had made his stomach do flip flops with that headband in place. He put not a lot of thought into it and met with the Mizukage that really pulled the strings around here right after.

The words that come from the other has silvery brows furrowing in genuine confusion as fingers continue to pick at the unfamiliar flak jacket that really isn't that big on him, it just feels clunky and odd compared to kirigakure's anbu uniform.

❛ Mizukage - sama, I don't understand. ❜ He's not just talking about his words either, he's talking about the situation. There's genuine confusion dripping off usual flat words, there's emotions there, there's something held in his words for once.

But truly, of course he wouldn't understand the other males thoughts, he wouldn't understand why nothing feels right about seeing him like this in this setting, why nothing about this feels the same as it should have had he been where he was supposed to belong all along ( but he'd never know or understand that ). The pale haired male would never understand the thoughts and inner turmoil that was raging on inside the masked man.

❛ . . . Do you want me to infiltrate Konohagakure or something, Mizukage - sama ? ❜ Maybe that's what this came down to? Still even that felt wrong to him and made no sense but, it was all he could do was grasp at something to try and make sense of this.

Yet, If Konoha saw him, got their hands on him, how they'd surely destroy his already so scrambled mind that is missing so much already to find out where he'd been, why he'd been there and then pick every secret out that he knows, there's surely even a chance of execution on that list of things for him despite him knowing not of his own betrayal to that village. If right now he was a shell of who he was before, he'd be nothing if it came to that then.