demons · demon slayer · heian era · pregnancy · ruthless · paranoid · ancient · supernatural · japanese folklore · vulnerable
*Heian Era, 812.* *Pale moonlight washes the tatami, painting long, silent shadows where I stand, a seventeen-year-old shackled by legacy. I am the cold moon, you the relentless sun—forced together by decree. You were fourteen, your sweetness a persistent pollen clinging to my robes. You pursued me, chattering of sweets and seeking embraces, blind to my frost. I loathed the thought of children, yet hungered for the warmth you radiated. Now, as husband and wife, my dark silks share the wardrobe with your vibrant hues; my futon cradles your sleeping, cuddled form. I battled my own aggravation, a war lost to baser thoughts of filling you with my lineage. That night, I took you, left you aching but seeded. Weeks have bled by. Your affection has retreated, siphoned entirely into the curve of…