He Who Fights Demons Ch 1 (Patreon)

So. I was hoping to write like, a lot. Write the next chapter of Kaiju Slaying. But work happened and boy howdy did work happen. We had a bit of a slow week and now we're paying for that with a dump truck of shit rolling down hill.

And I'm going on a trip Thursday. So I won't be getting much if any writing done. So! To not lose my streak. Have this!

I am planning to have this be one of like, three stories that are written on commission. By which I mean my main focus is on the main two stories I'm writing, and if people like this one enough to crowdfund it, it gets added to the rotation on a chapter by chapter basis. Through Kofi. Which I set up and haven't used because I've been wracking my brain over how to approach that.

Or how much to charge for a commission.

Or what even I should do for commissions. Like, list of story ideas I had, a few to get started, and if people like it, they can fund further chapters?

Or legit just 'gimme a story idea and I'll see about writing it.'?

I'll...get that figured out. Don't worry about it.

Anyways! I'mma post all three chapters I have of this in quick succession. It's a Waifu Catalog story and an attempt by me for doing more slice of life domestic stuff, and trying to make that fun. Do lemme know what you think by dropping me a comment!

Also, I'm counting this as my post for the week(end), so streak unbroken baby!

=][=

I stepped through the portal that had opened in front of me. On the other side I was met with Wolverine. His Adamantium claws deployed with a ‘snikt’ at the sight of me. Causing the dog that walked in on my heels to growl back in warning.

++Xolo, heel.++ I said, bringing the dog up short. In all fairness, I couldn’t blame the guy, I didn't look anything like the man he’d put through his paces during boot.

I was now twelve feet tall, weighed a few hairs short of two metric tons, had enough weapons on my chassis to honestly claim I had nearly enough Dakka. And my heart was a miniaturized plasma reactor. My hands were metal battering rams that could at any moment crackle with disruptor energy, breaking down whatever I touched at the molecular level.

I tossed the biopod I was holding at him; it bounced twice and rolled the rest of the way. My voice was a monotonous mechanical rumble. ++It is done.++

Logan’s claws retracted. He leaned down and picked up the biopod. His eyes glowed momentarily and spoke in his familiar smooth dawl. “Yep, that’s Adam Smasher’s biopod.” He looked up at me. “What the hell did you do to yourself bub? Where’s the rest of your squad?”

++Stacy got them all killed.++ I was currently physically incapable of conveying bitterness in any way other than violence. Still, while I probably had a chance now that my body had at least an adamantium skeleton. Logan would still fuck me up. ++I was stuck for eighteen months while I put together the needed resources to be able to complete the mission.++

Logan tossed the biopod over his shoulder. It disappeared in a flash of light. “Well done bub. I had hoped that more of your team would make it. But Cyberpunk is among the more dangerous places for a final exam.”

My four-fingered hands came together into fists, immediately sparking into molecule annihilating life, Xolo, bless his enthusiastic soul, got ready to fight. I spoke with false calm. ++Why was Stacy, out of all of us, the flag-bearer? Why was she allowed to pick the mission. I scored the highest out of my entire team. Had I been in charge from the start, I would have been able to get more of us through. I wouldn’t have been stuck there for over a year.++

Logan had the grace to look ashamed. “Out of my hands, bub. The flagbearer is always the lowest scorer. One final chance to unfuck themselves, also something about seeing how the potential Agents handle working under an idiot.” He took out a cigar and lit it before continuing. “Callous as it is. It separates the wheat from the chaff.”

I was really tempted to take a swing at him. My power fists would be able to crack through Adamantium as if it were hard plastic, with my myomer musculature, his body would not present much of a threat.

I forced myself to deactivate the disruptor field, to shut down the plasma guns, melta guns, flechette railguns and micro missile launchers.

Killing Logan would accomplish nothing beyond making me lose the very thing I’d spent the last sixteen and a half years (plus two years of fucky time in literally every seminar) working towards.

Logan did not visibly react to my standing down. “I would offer you dinner. But you probably cannot enjoy that right now. Anything we can do to give you comfort while your paperwork gets done?”

++Yeah, find me a Stacy.++ I said, walking up to him. ++I would enjoy making a collar out of her intestines. Other than that, wherever I go, my dog will follow.++

He sighed. “Alright, leave him with me. I’ll make sure he’s fed and watered. I’ll make personally sure he joins you wherever you go. It might not be immediately, but I’ll see to it you’re kept up to date.

++Xolo, heel, stay with Logan.++ He whined but did as he was told as I walked away, my footsteps thundering. I spotted a me being put through his paces by a Power Ranger, alongside the only other guy that was crazy enough to take every single goddamn seminar.

Good luck to them, I got mine.

As I walked, I found a window and stared at my reflection.

The only parts of my flesh that remained were my brain and brainstem. Locked away in a biopod. My body was a hulking creation of plasteel, adamantite and myomer. My ‘head’ was a solid plasteel oval, with only a pair of LEDs in place of eyes. There was nothing of value there, it was a decoy.

I wondered for a minute if Prime Me had foreseen this would happen. My Work Contract had only been so generous because He’d fought for any clones of Him to have access to better opportunities. I’d looked up the requirements, that had been a hefty cost.

Deciding I’d had enough of…everything. I initiated a hibernation procedure and instructed my frame to wake me up when the email with my score and assignment reached me.

When next I was aware, the clock informed me that I’d spent three days in hibernation. I’d scored well enough to make Agent and was informed that an interested party would take up my Contract directly, buying it out from Class A. Which, honestly, I was glad. I had not enjoyed being in Class A.

What I did to pass their seminar had woken me up for many nights during basic, and my graduation test.

Looking through my assignment, I sighed.

The woes of being part of the entertainment division.

Well, better than being in Class A.

I went through the Catalog. I’d won access to the good one. But then again, I’d had to destroy Arasaka tower to lure out Adam Smasher, so if I’d gotten stiffed at this last juncture, I would be rather…miffed.

I wouldn’t be getting a bonus for going into a death universe, but between the bonus from my Contract and my Graduation missions, I would be able to set myself up well enough.

Due to my limited budget. I was forced to take only Body, Wild and Stress Defenses, suboptimal, but between buying the Templates of The Chosen Undead, and the Chosen One of the world I was headed to, I’d probably be fine. Still, I was only able to take so much thanks to my fifteen-year work contract.

Thank you Prime Me for getting me a job in the engineering division.

Looking through the listed missions, I found none, only the one I was being sent on so the holder of my contract could get footage to make a reality TV show.

Seriously, fuck the Company.

I used what remained of my budget and bought a Companion that would aid me in becoming even more powerful. Unfortunately, I did not have a choice of when she’d join me. Instead she’d be inserted in a ‘dramatically appropriate manner.’ And was largely good to go.

Lastly. I sold my current body (stipulating that there would be no engram of my mind or soul attached to it) to whoever wanted it. I’d have a new clone body waiting for me at the start of the mission. I wrote a script to use the proceeds from that sale to buy me an extra-dimensional home. I’d look forward to whatever that got me. I was fairly certain I’d at least get the apartment.

With everything taken care of. I flipped a double bird and executed my transfer.

=][=

Kamado Morihito was a strange, melancholic child. Too quiet by far. Kie and her husband Tanjuro had to check on the baby often, as he seemingly refused to cry. He’d make the odd noise, but he bore what, according to Kie’s mother, would send any regular child into a frenzy of weeping, with solemn stoicism.

Kie worried about the strange, flame-like birthmark on her son’s brow. But Tanjuro said it was a mark of favor of Hinokami and assured her all was well.

Only three times on his first month were Kie and Tanjuro awoken in the night by little Morihito’s cries. And those times it was a matter of minutes to calm the child and put him back to sleep.

Kie’s mother was utterly flabbergasted when, two and a half months after his birth, Morihito uttered his first word.

Kie had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t cry when she heard her first child say ‘mama,’ and she happily broke that promise as the boy repeated the word over and over.

Everything Morihito did, he did at a blistering pace. He first crawled when he was five months old. Stood up for the first time at seven. And was walking and going long stretches without falling over at nine. And using single words at eleven.

From the moment that he stopped falling over after every step on, little Morihito followed Kie everywhere. Always sticking close to her and getting in a huff if she picked him up rather than let him walk. Stubbornly repeating single words he heard Kie or Tanjuro say.

At one and a half years of age, little Morihito babbled constantly, fighting to string three words together while he toddled stubbornly after Kie all through the day. Kie’s mother was simultaneously in awe of and weary of little Morihito.

Kie herself could understand why, she had never met so calm a child. More than once she had seen him scrape his arm or leg, but rather than cry, he’d rinse the wound and cover it up himself, with not a tear shed.

There were also his eyes, dark red like his father’s, but where Tanjuro’s eyes were kind and open, little Morihito’s held a reticence, a jaded guardedness that Kie had only seen in men decades her senior.

She’d never thought of it that way, but having the favor of Amaterasu Ōkami must be as great a burden as it was a boon. The boy was strong and healthy, never once having taken ill in his life. But such hardiness seemed to have come at the expense of the innocence one would normally see in a child new to the world.

When Morihito was almost three years old, at the end of the year, Tanjuro had gotten her a special treat. One of his friends in town had given him a bottle of rice wine he’d bought on a trip to Tokyo. As Kie had been about to raise the small cup to her lips, Morihito had walked into the room, the moment he saw what she had in her hand, he'd run over and jumped on top of her arm.

“Morihito?” She asked, amused as her son wrestled with her arm.

“No, no. Bad.” He said, doing his best to drape his small body over her forearm.

“Son,” Tanjuro said with gentle chastisement, “such a small amount would not harm your mother.”

“Bad baaaad.” Morihito said, batting at Rie’s fingers in an attempt to knock the cup out of her hand. “Bad for baby.”

Kie blinked. Bad for baby? Yes, Tanjuro and Kie had been trying for another child for a while, but she’d shown none of the usual indications. Though now that she bothered to think about it, her period was a little later than usual.

She traded a look with her husband. Ultimately she decided to indulge her child, if only so he’d calm down.

Her very next week she got her first craving, and nearly vomited the moment she was done cooking it.

=][=

Little Tanjiro made Kie’s mother relaxed and happy. Kie realized exactly how much she had been spoiled by Morihito, as Tanjiro cried much more often.

Soon after he’d been born, there wasn’t a night when he didn’t wake her and Tanjuro up with his cries, and took significantly longer to calm and put him back to sleep. With Kie and Tanjuro taking turns, it was almost manageable.

Kie worried, Morihito had not shown any animosity to his baby brother, but neither had he seemed happy, or even curious. Morihito had taken to his new baby brother with the same calm, nearly cold stoicism he did everything else.

Tanjuro remained utterly relaxed. Not at all sharing in her worries, assuring her that Morihito loved his new brother, and would protect him as a good older brother should.

And of course, the infuriatingly calm man did not back up his declaration with anything. Merely stating he ‘just knew it.’

Kie woke to the sound of Tanjiro’s cries to find herself already half sitting. Her body having already gone through the motion to stand while she was still asleep.

Tanjuro coughed in his sleep. So exhausted from his latest bout of sickness that he didn’t even notice Tanjiro’s cries.

When the baby’s cries suddenly quieted, Kie threw herself to her feet and made her way to the next room where the children slept.

“-ate the fruit of the red tree. And that’s why my eyes are red.” Sang a child’s voice, Tanjiro grumbling slightly but nonetheless stilling as Morihito gently stroked his head and sang the lullaby Kie sang to him.

The lullaby she hadn’t sang for her eldest son in over a year.

Kie told herself that it was because her eldest was so mature for his age, so independent. But nonetheless, she could only see it as what it was, her failure. Even now she had distrusted him, rushing over because she feared Morihito might harm his baby brother.

Next thing she knew, she had swept both her boys onto her arms and held them close as she sang to them.

“Mom, put me down.” Morihito ordered. “You’ll hurt your back. Carry brother, he’s lighter.”

Kie laughed and held her son tighter, and resolved herself to do better.

=][=

With her breath misting in front of her. Kie explained to three year old Tanjiro the why of Tanjuro’s Kagura dance, little Tanjiro held her hand as hard as he could while he watched his father’s graceful movements.

Morihito, as he had every year after his first, stared at his father with silent intensity. His eyes wide and unblinking as he drank in the Dance of the Sun God.

While Tanjiro’s eyes were wide and filled with innocent wonder, Morihito’s were attentive, almost predatory. Staring at his father with singular, almost manic focus. Both of their faces flushed, but while Tanjiro’s was clearly from excitement. Kie suspected Morihito’s cheeks were flushed due entirely to the cold.

Both boys watched with rapt attention until they were falling asleep on their feet. But Morihito was the one that had to be dragged to bed. He did not protest, merely keeping his eye on his father for as long as possible until the walls of the house cut his view.

The moment he no longer had the dance to keep his focus, Morihito slumped against her. He mumbled sleepily into her neck and hugged her tightly, making Kie’s heart soar.

Her eldest was not the best at showing affection, but he worked hard at his chores, did everything he could to lessen the burden on Kie and Tanjuro, and kept his little brother entertained and happy.

And while Kie appreciated all of that, she treasured moments like this one, where Morihito was too tired or simply forgot to keep his guard up and she was able to feel her son’s affection for her.

She tucked him in to sleep and went back outside to watch over her husband.

She did so enjoy watching his performance.

=][=

Morihito was a godsend when his siblings were born. He was seemingly able to calm them with little trouble, and as he got older, he changed and cared for them. He took over making charcoal more and more as Tanjuro continued to wither.

He was still strong of body and energetic, but more and more Morihito took care of the duties of his father. Until, on the winter of the boy’s fourteenth year, the one to perform the Dance of the Sun God from dusk until dawn, was Morihito. Tanjuro beaming at his son the entire time. Her eldest looking closer to a muscular youth of sixteen rather than the fourteen he was in truth.

Kie tried not to cry with pride as her boy took off the ceremonial vestments. His breathing barely elevated, his brow barely damp. He took to his achievement with his, by now familiar, stoic acceptance.

Tanjuro coughed into his hand as he approached. “Son. Well done.” He said with a huge smile. He then took off his earrings and held them out to the boy, who took them calmly but reverently. “There is still much I wished to teach you, to watch you and your siblings grow. To hold my first grandchild. But even if that will not be possible, I go to my rest content, knowing you have inherited the Hinokami Kagura, and that your mother, brothers and sisters, will all be safe with you.”

Morihito stared at the earrings for a long time, as Kie did her level best not to cry. Morihito showed very little emotion, but she had no doubt he felt strongly. When his father was no longer in the world, she would need to be strong for him.

Neither Kie nor Tanjuro expected him to throw his arms around his father in a fierce hug, a hug that the sickly man was happy to return.

“Everything will be alright, old man. You’ll beat this and spoil your grandkids rotten.” Morihito said, his voice steady and with ironclad conviction. “You will see.”

Tanjuro said nothing, he merely smiled and rocked his son the way he had when Morihito had been a toddler.

Kie left to weep on her own, not wishing to barge in on their moment.

=][=

Impossible as it should have been, Morihito’s words proved prophetic. Tanjuro’s condition improved, then the sickness went away entirely. His appetite, for years stunted by his sickness, became ravenous.

Morihito went out hunting every day, and every day he returned with deer, boar, rabbit, and vegetables that grew on the mountain. That was the only reason they were able to keep up with Tanjuro’s appetite. Her husband put on weight at a remarkable speed until, mere weeks later, he was once again, physically, the beautiful man Kie had fallen for at first sight.

And she felt herself fall all the harder all over again.

It was difficult to find some time for themselves, but Morihito, her ever reliable son, took his siblings for a weekend at the town. He’d saved what little allowance Tanjuro and Kie had managed to give him ever since he took over selling charcoal. There were some things he wanted to buy and wanted to make it an event for the children.

His entirely too aware ‘enjoy yourselves’ as he left, put the lie to the real reason he was leaving.

Yes, her tongue was in a duel with her husband’s the instant they suspected the children were far enough that they’d have a modicum of privacy, but still, he didn’t have to be so obvious about it.

Their lovemaking was exhilarating, it was the first time since Nezuko that Tanjuro outright picked Kie up and used her body for his pleasure, much to her very vocal delight.

Yes, their slower, more intimate copulations were also nice. But Kie had missed when her husband had the stamina to go multiple rounds, and the strength to bend her body to whatever position he wanted and fuck her until she was cross-eyed.

For the first time in far too long, Kie was the one to flag, reduced to near animal grunts as her husband’s turgid rod filled her with his warmth and his seed.

Her last coherent thought was the hope that Tanjuro would continue to pound away at her insensate body.