#Ara-C | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cutieeva · 21 days ago

Text

Snow and Rose

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 Female reader

Warnings : Murders. Violence.

𝐒��𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 愛 ❜

He was filthy. Made to be discard and dislike and disgust hence the reason he even did not dare utter the pure words of love to the one he grew to not dislike however it all changed when he saved a woman. An peculiar one with taste of adressing herself as a snow and him, a disfigured man—rose

It was the first night of the winter. Crimson petal of rose slowly fell atop of the untainted white snow. To be honest the blush fall on the snow looked breathtaking. So beautifully vast yet together by nature almost seem like the destiny also choose in the harshest winter will bear the most adored rose to be seen.

The first time she saw them, it was unsuited together yet now if this was her last image of the world's beauty before withering away. She is thankful enough, smiling under the cold whiteness where she lay, drenched in her blood surround her and pain numb little by little. Now that her vision fading she wish to indulged the nature of destiny more. She wish to find her own rose in the snow, a lover she meant and perhaps children too. ? How odd of her to even question of her own wish to bear children when she knows no rose is there for her.

As the roses always wirther, unsuited to the snow like she thought, no one likes snow. Even those who believed to like only do for few weeks, months not years, certainly not decades.

Snow as beautiful is cold, far cold she realize after embracing in the ground, blush of her skin drying and tears gather to flow silently.

How she wished to see the sunrise for the last time. One last time before passing to void of nothing, she knew heaven and hell were only words for fear to do good despite being surround by hell. One last tear roll down as she embrace the death when a crunch of foot earned her sight.

Eyes rolling to see the demon, the culprit of her death towering surprise to feel the drop of crimson. Not one from the rose petal rather of blood along stench of someone's death coloring the sliver sword he holds. He who is not the demon her mind knows at least, however an stranger wrapped in black cloth like the void of night and white cloth wrap around his mouth with snake rest upon his neck. His eyes, Unusual she ever seen one teal and another yellow.

His gaze bore at her, laying on the snow and blood circle around her like an painting of death with petals of rose fallen near her forehead almost seem like an crown of farewell flowers. She looks utterly and hauntingly beautiful he is afraid to say the rose suit her with the snow. Even her tears of sorrow paint her beautiful. His eyes locked on those (E/C) eyes that he forgot it's close and pale hue cover her entirity.

Like a bleak of a man his knee bend down, fingers almost curl refuse to taint the body by brushing his filthy touch yet with gentle he never grace one with did he hold her, cold sweep into his warmth and her body in his hand vulnerably he embrace her clothed part more to begin walking the path of his home where many also lives.

Pain greet her awake, her sight met with the white ceiling of a house than the void of nothing she expected. The pain in her body told her the answer of her life. She is alive and the beautiful nature of rose met snow was not her last image of mother earth's beauty nor the man she viewed.

The man in question is none where to seen when the door slide open stand a beautiful woman, smiling gently. "She must like butterfly". (Y/N) judged from the hair pin of butterfly to her dress print.

"Ara, Ara, you are awake. I see". (Y/N) bow to the woman despite the pain in her stomach yet her face remain unchanged. Stoic as before. "Do not distress yourself further. I fear your present state is one of considerable pain." The woman came closer to find indeed the blood taint the white again.

(Y/N) apologize softly.

"No apologies necessary, I assure you." Her laugh was melodies that the man almost slip her mind.

"Oh. A man, with snake around his neck ?" She continue, her eyes as if reliving the time. "Have you seen him ?" The actions of that woman's hand pause and staring at those purple eyes oddly seem empty and lost.

"I do. He is one of the demon slayers". Strange words. Demon slayers and demons. Both belonged to monstrous fairytales she never liked to read and now very real to see, one was eater almost pushed her to the edge of life and another an savior, retrieve her life yet both interwoven with one another.

"Oh. Would you be so kind as to inform me of his whereabouts, that I may pay my respects ?" The woman stare at (Y/N). No human she ever seen so indifferent to the word demon. One must bear some hatred or kindness or any emotions linked. Never indifference. Perhaps the lack is what present her so different however naïve to the laws of world.

"You may, he will be found next door, precisely where the wounded gentlemen resides." Her finger point to near the door of (Y/N)'s right and she nod.

"Thank you". She stood to the woman's surprise and walk with difficulty to the next door, sliding open to find three young lads on the bed with another beautiful woman with pink hair and that man. That man's soften gaze saw her bend her body to bow and utter the words she truly felt from the core of her heart.

"Thank you for saving me" . The tone and the face remained unchanged however those eyes he notice was pure, clearance with courage Obanai swears. Courage he won't be rewarded, not with the blood in his veins.

"It was my duty". He replied, turning away from her and she left quietly. All were too suprise to intervene the tight tension darting from the unknown to the cold demon slayer. He who thought their first words exchange to be the last.

However here she is, sitting beside Tanjiro, applying herbs like the gentle caress of a mother to his wounds he receive from Obanai during their period of training. A furrow appear in his brows, why is she here ? His eyes slide to the stomach cover by her cloth and by movements of her body she appears to be healthy.

Soon he learnt after she recovered did she request to dedicate herself to nursing she was by experience and Shindou welcomed her. What a play of destiny he thought watching intently how with unchanged poise she clean one gruesome wound than previous.

"How calm". He wonders, how can a woman be so devoid of expression ? Even Shinobu plaster a smile and here she is, and was at her last breath crafted the same expression.

"I offer my sincerest gratitude, your expertise is truly remarkable." Tanjior in his cherry voice smiled large and she returned only with a nod. He narrow his eyes, was she also poise in front of the culprit of her death ? Or did she cried, begged or perhaps— .

"The gentleman is cleared to depart." Her words directly to the older demon slayer and he nod, averting gaze with someone first because of how unashamed they were. He took him alongside and wish to never view her.

What a foolish thing to pray when she is at his each sight. One time brooming with the little girls despite them playing, laughing and joining her hands to round each other she only played along unchanged as if her soul was not present while her body was.

Another time dusting and cleaning the injury manor and he was there, yet not once she glanced or tries to word with him. Not that he desired so rather finding her like an puzzle. So locked unlike Mitsuri who is like the sun, bright and bathed in pureness and free like an open book he can read. Even that butterfly demon slayer seem easier to understand than she. A lady with unfamiliar origin, name he didn't care to learn and expression never change.

Upon another occasion, a youthful trainee, gravely injured, was brought forth, his face snarl in pain and half his form scorched by the ravages of fire yet she didn't so little flinch. She beheld the charred flesh, and with unflinching resolve, set about healing the wounds. It made him wonder again would she grasp, be horrified or pity the demon slayer if she shown her the scar in his— shaking such filthy words, he walked down that time.

"(Y/N) hurry, the Serpent Hashira and the Wind Hashira needs help !" She pause in her hurried steps. Her savior was in need and the thought to return the debt come to her mind. Her feet went to the room watching the two strongest demon slayers swallowing pain as they lay on the bed. "One of the demons poisoned them so the little wounds are deadly".

Her trembling hands took the medicines and herbs, as being advised she about to touch the Serpent Hashira, he wield his sharp sword to her chin, little inches away and his snake hiss. "Don't come near me". His words tender yet the sentences chilling sharp and she can not help ponder why.

"What ? we don't have male—".

"Let me do my own". He cut the argue he finds not needed.

"However you have no knowle—". Kanao tries to change his mind for good.

"I can!" he asserted, the crimson-tinted the binding around his mouth and voice bending into whisper with his pale skin whiter. (Y/N) is afraid the poison rushing faster.

"By all means, proceed. But heed my caution: observe my movements, then replicate, lest harm ensues. Do you understood ?" Obanai who never thought her to spoke nod and took the medicines and clothes. (Y/N) note the wounds are in his arm, thigh and shoulder thus she walk beside him to another silent room—she assume his room and sat, turning face away to hear the shuffles of clothes unraveling and she begin to show on her clothed body while he remain silent, save for the occasionally groans and strainted huffs.

"Completed". She nod and he finally turn his eyes at her back, wondering why she is unmoved.

"May I see your work, that I might judge its merit ?" She hoped to have yes however deep inside the answer was spoken in silent already.

"No". No. As she expected and nod to maneuver towards his clothed self and about to stand at her feet when Obanai narrow his eyes in displease. That expression and lack of words. Always of few words, indifference and unafraid. All of the qualities he wished he had within himself. Indifference of other's eyes, unafraid of the past and courageous.

Implused by his deranged thoughts and in daze of his wound. "Would you be scared of this ?" Uncaring he rip the binding of his mouth, the cool breeze brush against the dreadful scar that is still fresh in his memory. His eyes close like the binding was a relieve of pain however he waited. For a strangling scream, disgust grasp, pity words or anything. Save for the errie silence.

Each muscle of his body tense at the feel of an soft touch at the corner of his lips and his hand shoot up holding her wrist and eyes wide to be face at her expression. And indeed it was not in vain.

Alas, the rosy flush that painted her entire visage, and the demure shimmer in those crystalline eyes, told a tale he had not expected to behold. Even her skin blushed from his touch alone.

A hatred twist his inside as he swing her hand and yelled harsh. "Get out !" She flinch and run out. His head buried in his palm, he did not intent to yell, however what could he had done if that bewitching woman's expression did not just brew a hope in his heart. A hope no one did and he himself dare not aknowledge.

"What was that ?" Bewildered he erased her image of blush.

He must have frighten her because the few days later she was none of his sight and it was unknown how he felt so he walked to his room when the moon's shine lighten on the letter slide to the gap of the door. His finger touch the paper and read. 'To the respected Serpent Hashira. From (L/N) (Y/N).'

An name he is unfamiliar could only belonged to that woman. "(Y/N)". The name roll down his flesh, sounding hauntingly pleasant. He grip the paper hard and went inside. First he sit and grab the candle near the paper he almost wish to burn, not read any words behind the paper. Still his curiosity drive him to open and unfold the smooth lines of paper.

'You might have forgetten what had occur to the day of your injury yet I do not and thus the letter was crafted, whether view it as an unworthful letter or cowardly one, it's your choice however I won't delay your time and say the words I had not courage to utter in front of you that the scar you showed me was in my view an scar of loathe, pain and sorrow of the past because the way it's craved could not be done willingly—' Obanai turn away from the paper, unwelcomed memories slit his mind and fill his vision.

"Useless". He deemed the paper and the fire of the candle so close however something, perhaps hope convince him to read further.

"My intention was not to recall your unpleasant memories however I had to because the next words I say might desire you to kill me even hate me I fear, because your wound blossoms red like the petals of rose, breathtakingly beautiful, so beautiful that I was mesmerized. I am wretched for holding dear and falling in love with the sorrow you might have, the very thing I am in love is the one you hate, so please it's not a letter of forgiveness because do not forgive me. Do not forgive me ever".

His hand fell limp as fingers still grip on the paper become tighter than ever and the candle's light illuminate his fiery blush face and the glistening rims of his eyes betrayed a depth of feeling he could hardly grasp.

"Is it not a confession ?" His other palm cover his face and brush upon the binding that for the first time did not evoke feelings of revulsion and disgust rather sentiments he had not felt for anyone, not even the love Hashira. Because the unpleasant memories dissipated the moment his scar made contact, replaced by her passion words, which floated in his vision like ethereal whispers.

At the early rise of the sun Obanai ran to the butterfly manor to find her not Kanon who raise a eyebrow and continue her duty.

"Might I inquire as to the present location of Miss (L/N) ?" His question made her confuse before sighing.

"Good heavens! You haven't heard ? She resigned, having met my elder sister in person and left a letter for us all, though, alas, it reveals nothing of her destination." Her voice somber reflections on the departure of the benevolent lady, whom she had not had the opportunity to bid farewell, a circumstance that pained her, much like her sister.

The words save for the resigned tune out. The sounds distant and dishonest. H-how could it ? How could it be ? When she confessed her love merely yesterday ? "The letter ? May I see it ?" She hand over the paper he unfold to read and yes, it's her farewell for eternal. How cruel, she left. He almost threw the paper in fit of rage but he knew better and did not.

She is one cowardly woman he ever met.

☯

A red rose.

The first single rose appear at (Y/N)'s doorstep was few weeks later she moved from the demon slayer's corps to a small village little further from the branch and the house she stay was bearable and decent food was nearby to attend. The real reason she left was due to the passion confession her heart forced her hand to give however when she comes to realize the man she was giving and his profession was, she decide to separate herself.

Because the man would never love her back and his profession was oath to death, no sense of life was guaranteed and she swears the heartbreak of future could not stitch the patchs of broken heart.

From childhood she watched her mother obedient like a pet to her father and never replied back and his father always remained gentleman and cold. Very different than the fairytales she dislike yet reads for the sake of befriending others.

Soon growing up she realize because of the unspoken law of marriage. A wife is a doll of his husband who married for the sake of duty. They were not in love instead tied down in duty where she, the child was a bond they had to create by society's pressure and sheding her innocence to adulthood, it's her time to take the role of doll for someone else.

And at first few men did choose her, some even confess their love but after few months they left, giving the ring of their betrothed away.

"Your demeanor is as frigid as the grave. How might I be expected to harbor affection for one so seemingly devoid of vitality?"

"(Y/N), I must confess, it pains me to consider the possibility that you do not return my ardent affections. Your demeanor suggests a certain...indifference towards me."

"Miss (L/N), though I have always held your beauty in the highest esteem and affection however our spent time leads my heart yearns for a deeper connection. I confess, I covet a love that stems from genuine attachment, not mere obligation."

"If your heart truly beats for mine, then demonstrate your affection through tender compassion ! Speak words of endearment, that I might be assured of your love !"

Some were good, some were spoiled and some greedy yet what common in them was their speech of words of how cold she is and like snow she is beautifully admired—not loved. To be honest she hated all the men that left her, even if some were really good she loathe them. Why ? Because none tried to know the dept of her love for them because she did love them, each and every one of them. Yes ! not as deep as the love of Zhi Nü for Niu Lang. Still she did, what she couldn't was to express them. She simply does not know. Words were not easy to utter as she wanted and affections never surface properly.

Also their love was not worth if they left so easily leading her to become spinster and out of roof as for her family's reputation she was a staint so she left, no cries, pleads or any attachment. What prevails her is that quiet tears still roll down.

Leading her at the first night to encounter a hungry demon and that man, she for and realize after viewing his scar. He awoke a whole world inside her she was hidden from and now she can not help wonder if she had known him better could she bear courage to court him.

Red rose on top of the snow. Her sight snap to the ruby hue and turn to the vase inside the house already had seven more red rose rest. Adding this will be seven. It's strange no one comes to mind who would give her flowers like a secret admirer. Like confessing secret love to her.

With steps that softly crunched above the winter's white blanket, she approached the flower, its beauty unmarred by frost's chill grasp. Her fingers enveloped its slender stem free of thorns. The rose errierly remind her of him. His beauty of an rose and sharp gaze of thorn to protect. Perhaps thus she collect the roses.

☯

Slap !

Embracing her new role as a cleaning worker in the village proved daunting for her. As both a woman and alone seen beneath of men after all.

"Your defiance has cost us dearly. You should have layed your body at the customer's whims equals to a king's demands, were left unfulfilled. Your stubbornness has turned gold to dust. You ungrateful witch !" The pain at her cheek throb and she lowered her head, choosing silence, closing eyes to feel the next and next until the wife of the owner hold his hand.

"Oh dearie, this is a noodle shop. Not a brothel, what she had done is right because imagine rumors spreading of our humble restaurant turning into selling women. How bad is it not ?" His wife in tender voice trap him in sprouts of nonsense and he, halting and debating the words.

(Y/N) gratitude the lady in mind and caught sign of her hand twisting towards exit. "Go out". With eyes darting in secretion (Y/N) bow to her and quietly walked away from the unfair abuse and her night shift.

☯

Chirps of bird and noise of hens awake her and ignoring the ache in her cheeks she walk to the door and her eyes wide and mind in confusion.

She blink once, twice and slowly, very slowly walk on the snow to the center where a folded man's cloth is layed above blood with a rose on the side. The eighth rose. Her (E/C) eyes stare at the cloth for moments before walking to the noodle owner's house that is few walks away and not long a cry of agony rip out.

Her walk slow down and she watched the crowd form and the wife's cries in her corpse husband's body that is naked and blood sweeping from the stabs in his stomach and dried blood from the hole of his either cheeks. Pity bleed within (Y/N) for the newly widow— not the man. He deserved it and a happiness bloom thinking how length of love her secret admirer bear.

She went to her yard again and the cloth vanish and blood buried leaving the rose and a letter. "Was he here ?" A shiver ran her spine, glancing around to spot only to be failed and she read the letter.

'I am not good with words however what I am good is at welding swords and that man deserve equally as the demon heads' Demons. Holding the rose at one and letter at another, finally one man comes to her mind. The serpent demon slayer.

And she is unaware what to do and if her thought is even true.

☯

"Leave me !" (Y/N) yelled to the previous customer of the noodle shop who she was beated for and now tormenting her at night of street. "I said leave me !" She screamed attracting heads of the crowd letting the man loose his grip and her chance to escape.

Ninth rose lay beside the cloth of a man painted in blood. She walked out of her yard at the early morning and roam to find his body calmly and the crowd forming told her already. She close the gap, catching glimpse of his naked body layed to be humiliated and stabs in his stomach and holes on his palms where the man grip her by.

And as she expected when she return to her yard, the cloth was erased, blood buried and rose with letter repeating the same words.

☯

"It must be you ! You wretched woman, you got my husband killed ! After being bewitched by you, was he killed ! It must be you". The wife of the man yesterday murdered she was not even aware married came to her doorstep at midnight, screaming and throwing scornful words she does not like.

"I do not, mam". Calmly and unchanged she answered, attempt at closing the door she mistake to open and when the wife caught hint of that, (Y/N) felt a rush of coldness at her face. Numb snow cold her warm body as (Y/N) part her lips to say she was thrown more snow and more and more.

Until a wet slick sound and sudden stop of snow lead her head to turn meeting the scene of a sliver sword pierced the wife's stomach and glide back gushing blood and her body limp at once revealing Obanai, the serpent hashira standing with a blank expression and when met with (Y/N)'s, did it sparkle the beauty of emotions.

Her eyes also saw in his another hand holding the rose. Tenth rose. "At the tenth rose I decided to finally meet you". Loudly he confessed. Both to being the secret admirer and the murderer however not a hint of fear he felt not because he considerate himself powerful rather at the mercy of her love. While he thought he loved the love Hashira, (Y/N) mold the very love to him. While the love hashira was the shining sun, pure and out of his reach stem from pure respect, (Y/N) plant the seed of love from the mere words of his scar he loathe, she turn the hatred and self-disgust of the scar marred his skin into a memory of their sweet love. With the words of her and blushful image of her touched his corner lips brew him the feel of worthy to loved and love. She made him feel human.

Now at each touch of his mouth, rather than ashamed and scared did his heart skip beats at her face, at each touch of his mouth reminds him of her words. The confession of her yearning and passion he never received from one before and she graced him so deep, he could not help fall deeper, running to every village from small to huge at search of her and when found the relieve of bliss remind him once again how unable of her he has no life of his own anymore.

"Forgive me, Miss (L/N). I could not force you to my will defying yours so all I could do was remove the obstacles and wait for your return to me as I have fallen for you deeply". At each step closer to her he said each word and finishing he give her the rose, waiting to see her accepting or throwing.

Fear gripped his heart to be honest a little— no, a lot, the fear of rejection from the woman he holds dearly to his heart will crush him however he will wait, as long as needed and continue removing the filth from her life. Flith that forced his hand and deserved to be united with the demons.

Oh, how sweet. (Y/N) couldn't believe. A man who go length beyond for her and love her to the end without leaving is an heaven. Even more when it's the same man she did not even dare dream of loving her back holding rose for her and bloody sword to others.

How could she resist such love. An love scary and undeserving at other's view is her everything.

Her finger grasp the rose and lean forward to press a kiss the man above his binding who's those unusual beautiful eyes wide only to soften. Her lips parted and said. "Forgive me not I am in love with you".

"Forgiven because I am in too". He returned blooming a smile on her lips. Language of love she heard once, love that not only utter from words alone however also from actions of service for their love. Perhaps this man has that.

FIN

𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 ◸◜𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ◞◿

65 notes · View notes