Cherished and Loved
Obanai urges have been strong so take this fic..imagery??? Idk something.
Heads up!: implied fem reader, foreign reader implied too cuz we don't get many of those smh, and spoilers about his family!!
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The Serpent Hashira.
He would have given such a scowl to you if you were to tell him in his future, he'd be happily married while having little tots run about. Would've called you insane, crazy, or see it as a mocking testimony.
Obanai never once believed he could ever be at peace, believed he'd always live a damned life, a life of sin.
Then you came along...
You came with light and hope, ever so achingly slow into his world by just the tiniest damn silly thing ever. Making small accessories for pet companions. Kaburamaru had a little bit of an adventurous scale prickling him all day and slithered off. After frantically searching the market top and bottom until he came across your stall and just saw you in the middle of a fashion show with small, tiny hat accessories for the slippery serpent. It was funny, knowing the foreign food vendor had a creative side hobby, that the idea itself was remarkably silly, it intrigued him seeing his cautious companion comfortable with another.
Now every trip to the market was a sacred moment, because he would see you right before he'd leave and Kaburamaru would leave with something new. It was also sacred to the serpent, he always seemed pleased upon seeing the familiar memorized path to the market when it was a day of errands, aside from missions and the corp.
One rainy night there was a huge downpour, it was risky for Obanai to travel uphill, so you'd let him spend the night at your own home. It wasn't as big, but not as small. Something from some booktale that any time of the days and nights made the home feel like a safe haven.
The sounds of windchimes and rustles of leaves and flowers were heard on nice breezy days. However, it was night and he knew it was more welcoming in the day. You opened up to each other about small things, nothing to a personal level as he'd rather keep those stubborn walls up, up, up.
Favorite food.
Favorite color.
Favorite thing to do when you suddenly forget you can do the certain thing.
Those small things made him relax, although he hardly spoke, mostly stared and listened to you mostly be open, using this as a time to know you loads better than just as the woman at the market.
More visits, more lingering hand touches, more vulnerable moments where he felt important and needed whenever you needed someone to ground you from the darkness of your despair and tears.
And it all landed somewhere...
Your wedding.
It was small, but meaningful, the nerves he didn't know he had spiked up by thousands.
He seemed like a different person whose walls have been gently peeled than knocked down to vulnerability, despite needing to do a couple of more layers. But those layers were stubborn.
Even with those stubborn walls, you didn't pry, you loved. And with that love, one stubborn wall came down with a gentle peel, and you cupped it with your hands with such gentle care you were afraid he'd retreat away back to the wall you put your love into.
Caressing the skin, pressing lips to the very thing he found repulsive, and suddenly he became putty in your hands.
Another, that he would have never imagined to the list to ever happen, came his firstborn.
His son.
Ever since he held the fragile specimen that was in the sanctuary of your being, the life you carried for months under his watchful protective eyes, now had its own life, small thoughts, small gaze. At the same time, it felt like looking in a mirror, your blood hadn't even tried, and your son had gotten almost every feature from his father.
From the pale skin to the turquoise color from Obanai's left eye.
Okay maybe he got your nose.
He'd prayed- for days he did- that this dream of a fairytale wasn't a figment of his own imagination, hallucinations, fearing he'd awake in the same cold, eerie, place he'd been, his mind molded and believed to see it as home when he'd been far from someone who had a place in that family years ago in the eyes of those women.
When your first born had come to the world, you knew he'd do anything to make sure your child, or any future children you may have, never felt unwanted, and felt like they had worth in life even if they couldn't even comprehend words at their newborn ages.
You'd woken up, right at dawn as the sun was barely rising and the rain that returned trickling in a drizzle, and saw him hunched at the end of the futon, holding your first born with such a gentle gaze. Finger trapped by a baby fist as he murmured words that made you feel like you'd been given such treasure by whatever God was out there.
~
"You will never feel any less, every cry will be attended, every fuss will be looked into for what discomforts you, and all needs will be met".
He leaned down, pressing a little soft kiss to the thick tuffs of hair your son was born with, the contact making him move a little before settling against him.
"My little Hikari, you will never live with the uncertainty of whether you were loved or not".
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He will never speak of his family to you, nor his child. Will never mention his only living relative that survived the massacre of their family.
He will make sure you live without knowing what he endured to be present and living where he stood.
He never expected such a life. But now he'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe and protected.
Cherished and Loved.
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I think I cooked lowkey :3. I'd been imagining him as a dad lately and OOHHH MMMYYY GOOOOOODDD AAUAUUUUGHHH. I know his genetics are more likely to produce girls, and I've seen many people make girls the first born. But given Obanai's character and past I feel like a first born being a son would hit deeper.
I also apologize for my lack of posts....and presence...Junior year is kicking my tush rn. I also promise I'm almost finished with "He's happiest with me", I changed it to male reader to fit the song by Luvcat better.
Mention: @rosies-core
