Dear Diary,

"Chasing down euphoria,

All of us are doing it,

It is what life's all about."

Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Ecstasy

I dunno, I saw this get a lot of hate back in the day, especially by so called 'ascetics'. Look, just because your body has normal amounts of serotonin, or lets you get your dopamine hits by watching paint dry or some shit does not mean you do not chase euphoria. Yeah, most people talking about Ecstasy and Passion and shit are talking about sex. Sure as shit most people hear someone talking about that and think that. Even the ones who then act all high and mighty because their wedding tackle isn't their driving motivation in life. Look, we get it, you're Ace. No worries, go do your thing, whatever it is. But don't get all high and mighty like somehow that makes you a superior human being or enlightened or morally superior or some shit like that.

I guess some of the folks with that particular brand of cranial rectal inversion might just be so depressed, and have been for so long, that they mistake 'chronic terminal depression' for some kind of desirable state. Yeah, emotions are powerful shit, and just like every other powerful thing in human history, some douchecanoes have used them to excuse or empower behavior that deserves a swift kick in the crotch. Worse, they've given other people the idea that it's fine to copy them. Henry, and you know which one I'm talking about? I'm looking at you, motherfucker. We are not incubators for your inevitably X chromosome baby batter. Same goes for every dude who used the women in their life as interchangeable disposable uteri. People are not fungible assets.

Shit, I need to remember to put that in my Book somewhere. Maybe some kind of reference here in Ecstasy? Because I got nine verses to fill, and 'ooh, baby, ooh, baby, ooh, baby, ooh' will only get me so far. But to get back to it, just like Passion, Ecstasy doesn't have to be about sex. Fuck, it's probably not even the majority of the Ecstasy people feel. I am an absolute horndog who chases euphoric states hard, and it might not even be half of my personal Ecstatic moments. I mean, it might. That's possible. But I've also had those moments cuddled up with the kids. I've sure as shit had a bunch eating Marie's cooking. I'm a really physical person, too; I'm sure there are some motherfuckers out there who live inside their heads who hit Ecstasy or Euphoria... Um... Doing math problems and shit? I dunno. My point is really that it doesn't matter how you chase that high, so long as anybody else involved in some way is cool with it? Or better yet getting their own rocks off in the metaphoric sense? I'm down to support that. I'm good with people calling on me to make that happen. Well, help that happen. I've said it before, not good with the math.

So yesterday spent most of the day just overseeing women gathering materials to put the not-rock portions of our new home together. Felt some kinda way when the women started ogling me, until I realized that they were not, in fact, dudes intending to verbally molest me in lieu of socially frowned on unwanted public physical molestation. They weren't even loud or crude about it or anything, just making quiet comments to each other. Yeah, the comments equated to, 'okay, yeah, I would like a slice of that cake', but shit, I can't say I haven't done that my own damn self. Sure as shit I would take a slice of Lachlan or Linus if the opportunity arose. Which some tiny shrieking part of me still says is awful, because I'm married and engaged and have a mutually shared side piece.

Fuck, I really gotta pay closer attention to that aspect of me, I think. Like, I remember one of my old teachers... Not sure what subject, at this point, because it was a couple years back at least, but they replied to a comment about 'power corrupts' with a whole fuckin' rant. It boiled down to 'power does not corrupt, it amplifies, and also separately attracts the corrupt'. Like, it made sense, too. If power corrupted, you'd find every person in power with the same fuckin' vices. But you don't. Yeah, a lot of men in positions of power start fucking everything that doesn't move away fast enough. But then 'liking sex' is a pretty common thing, and there's whole fuckin' social structures in place that funnel available women to men with the power to support them. Note that I'm not saying that's right, but just that it wasn't the power that made those dudes stick their dick in every woman who didn't run away fast enough. Shit, plenty of them didn't fuckin' run. Some of them may have gone into it eyes open. Feel bad for some of them because of that, because dudes with power tend not to be pretty. Also, that shit stings when it gets in your eyes.

But my two points here. First, not everybody who got power did that. Some of them weren't into women, but holy shit did those dudes have whole fuckin' boy harems at times. Some of them weren't into sex at all, because it is in fact possible to be Ace, or even just not an oversexed asshole, and get into a position of power. But, like, having enough shoes to cover the feet of your entire population in your closet when plenty of your people do not, in fact, have shoes? That's still a fuckin' vice, and one you can't indulge in without power. But then you get people who get power and just... don't do that shit. Whether it's because they don't have vices, or their vices are little personal ones like having a perfect soufflé for breakfast every morning, or they have enough integrity to realize that the thing they want, the thing that their power would let them take without consequence, is wrong, so they just employ every flat chested adult hooker in the region to dress up in seifuku is really irrelevant, not every person given power starts torturing everyone who ever dissed them to death.

My second point kinda catapults off that one. I don't remember how I got here, but I'm in a position of power. Fuck, multiple positions, even if my poor atheist brain has a problem reconciling a few of them with reality. I'm the Champion of the Alliance. I'm married to the Imperator, and yes, I'm aware that's the root word of 'emperor'. I've been told that I, not 'my' army or any particular unit thereof, am the single most powerful military force on the continent. I'm a High Priestess. High Priestess set above all others. I am definitely in positions of social, political, and military power. Fuck, I think I remember one of my Social Studies teachers talking about 'moral' power, and even if being Loki's top High Priestess doesn't give me that, I am writing a fucking Holy Book for the religion that is fucking worshipping me. Even if I wanted to say, 'oh, no, I'm not really a Goddess, so that doesn't really count, what I did with Bonnie and Lucas falls square into 'miraculous' territory. I've spoken with Loki and Sigyn and adopted the apparently non-fucking Weyland Smith and I'm fucking a Maenad on the regular. Saying 'oh, I'm not a Goddess' would just be fuckin' disingenuous.

And my vice... Shit, my most defining vice is probably being a massive horndog. I can't even say 'oh, I'll eschew chewing on this hottie's lips because I'm married', because my fuckin' wife is encouraging me to get to chewing. So I gotta be real super extra careful about Consent and my own metaphorically monstrous footprint. I gotta make sure that for anybody who wants a piece of this cake they're not doing it because they feel like I'll punish them if they don't. Or that they'll wind up sucking hind tit because they didn't suck on my front tits. I mean, shit, I'm not a child. I get that some of the people who might share orgasms with me might not be driven by pure or simple motives. Yeah, if I had a magic wand that lit up green when someone asking to bump uglies had no other motivation than shared sexual bliss, you know I'd have that shit mounted on the bed, not to mention mounting anybody who lit that fucker up.

But what about some poor chica who knows, because we have made it very clear, that her place at our Homestead has nothing to do with my ashes being sufficiently hauled, nor with her participation or lack thereof in ash hauling, but still doesn't feel it in her guts, and wants to see my O face as proof to herself that she belongs, that she'll have a place with us through thick and thin? Telling a woman in that situation 'no' just seems kinda cruel, especially if she definitely has her own place and her own shit going on and clearly has other options than staying with us if it boiled down to it. Because at that point she's just saying, 'hey, big bitch in charge, make me feel better'. And if I respond 'oh, hey, no problem, what you need', and she hits me with 'looking you in the eye as I make your lady bits go ping', what the fuck am I supposed to tell her? 'Oh, I'm married'? Doesn't work when my wife is standing behind me with a skirt and pompoms making those magnificent mammaries bounce. 'Oh, I don't like sex'? Shit, I can sling bullshit with the best of them, but I don't think I could force those words out of my mouth if Saffron reached her hand up my metaphoric or literal ass and worked my mouth like a Muppet. 'You don't turn me on'? Fuck, that'd just be mean. Especially given some of the absolute triple bag dudes I banged for a handful of dime bags back in the day.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

So yeah, I gotta actually apply some brain power to any given case of somebody wanting to warm my groin. I also gotta make it really, abundantly clear that barring some prearranged transactional agreement, the only thing guaranteed from delivering my daily dopamine is an earnest effort on my part to return the favor. I mean, shit, probably gonna get Marie and Saffron doing the same, and Siobhan seems like she's just discovered that sex is her hyperfocus or special interest, depending on her flavor of neurospicy. Shit, if she's actually neurotypical, maybe she's discovered her hobby? Whatever, my point is I gotta make it clear that partying with the Goddess is its own reward, neither a requirement for nor guarantee of a life of fame, glamour, and riches.

Speaking of people wanting to do the horizontal mambo with me, Devorah flounced over to me with a booger look after her bath. "Hey, Devorah. What's wrong?" I asked as I wrapped a towel around her, very carefully capturing her hands inside the towel.

"I thought you wanted my mead," she pouted at me.

I shrugged. "I mean, I'm not gonna say I don't. But..." I sighed. "Look, I want you to be secure and have your own thing going on. You're a brewer. Our agreement was when you got your first big batch of mead ready, right?" She nodded, still looking cranky. "Nobody's put the thought in your head that either one of those things, either delivering enough mead to get me drunk, or getting our Revel on afterward, is a requirement for you to live at the Homestead, have they?"

She shrugged. "No. Not as such." She sighed and shook her head. "No, although the Imperator has made it clear that she would like each of us to do what we can to support the household."

I nodded. "Okay, yeah, but that's 'pitching in to help everybody', not 'getting my scarred up ass drunk and ringing my bell'. You get that, right?"

"Yes, Champion. I understand the difference."

"So... yeah. I don't remember ever having mead before, but I really wanna try it." I stomped down hard on my lingering irrational guilt and said, "I don't remember ever having you before, but I really wanna try you, too. But only once you're established on your own, and only if you want to for no other reason than for some bizarre reason you find this," I pulled her back away with one hand grabbing her towel, and waved the other down my front, "attractive."

Of course, she took the opportunity to look me up, down, and back up again excruciatingly slowly. While licking her lips. Some guttural throat noises may have barely reached my ears. When her gaze finally rose back to meet mine, she blinked once, slow, and said, quietly enough that only I could hear it, "I. Like. Muscles."

"Like, enjoy looking at them like them, or need some extra drying in your lower regions like them?"

She grinned at me, looked back down, and said, "yes."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. "Okay then. It's not after yet, or I'd be in the process of rendering you speechless right now, but tell me, what had your panties in a bunch?"

"Whiskey."

"Okay. Whiskey's good. I like whiskey. What's wrong with whiskey?"

She huffed at me, and very pointedly did not look behind her. "I've been informed that as the Brewer of the house, I'll need to make whiskey. Which I've never made before."

I shrugged. "Okay, you've made your lack of experience clear. I don't think we've got any other brewers in the house, do we?"

She nodded. "Well, not exactly. But they haven't got any more experience with whiskey than I do. They're vintners. Which is why they're looking to try and grow grapes, no matter that the cold weather won't really support them well."

I shrugged. "Might surprise you, we get some warmth in the summer. Even if we can't grow grapes from the Med, I think I remember some varieties that grow in Con... New... Uh... northeast of New Amsterdam? Which is gotta be colder than here."

She looked at me kinda funny, like she hadn't expected me to know much about growing shit. Which, to be fair, I didn't really. I just knew that Concord was in New England, and Concord was a kind of grapes that made really good jam and cheap assed wine. Then she said, "but.. this whiskey was to be specifically for you."

I looked over Devorah's shoulder at Saffron, who was just finishing up with Anna's hair. Fae Grain whiskey?

It would likely provide much more controllable dosages, not to mention enable me to work with Alliance alchemists to see if we can remove it's intoxicant effects without removing it's perception enhancing ones.

You do realize 'altered state of perception' is another way of saying 'intoxicated', right? My Kitten gave me all the side eye in the world. Of course you do. Sorry. Just making sure. Also?

Yes, Goof?

I took a bit of a chance and sent her a mental image of kissing her until her toes curled up and she passed out. It makes me feel really special that you would think of that, that you'd have that done, just for me.

Of course, love. My brain meats echoed with a mental snort. Funny, while I've found one of my Passions in Shaping research, I didn't become an Archmage for that reason.

No?

No. I set out on the path to becoming an Archmage to help keep our daughter safe. I became one to help a friend. I earned the Title a second time to protect you, even if doing so protected the rest of the world from the Undead in the process. So much of what I've done... What we've done, is like that.

Like what?

She smiled at me, and somehow that smile warmed my heart and nethers at the same damn time. We've acted to protect and nurture each other, our children, our loved ones, and we've reshaped the world in doing so.

I smiled back, ignoring a slightly miffed Devorah to do so. I'm so proud of you, Kitten.

You showed me the way, Goof. You continue to do so. I just follow in your footsteps. Her chuckle filled my head. Often cleaning up your messes, but those 'messes' are often as not the remains of those who would have done us harm. So I shan't complain. Although I suspect your current toweling client is about to.

At that point I shot her another smile, then turned back to Devorah. "Sorry, just thinking about something. Look, Devorah, I just realized, the Imperator isn't really asking you to make an adult beverage for me."

"No?"

"Nah. What she's gonna have you make is medicinal. Like, something to help me with a chronic condition or three."

"Oh. Oh! Well, I guess... Would you be upset if I tried to make it less awful than medicine ought be?"

I tilted my head. "You still worried about me not wanting after any more or something?" She shrugged. I snugged her towel down with one hand, threaded the other through her hair, then pulled her snug to me, the only thing between us the towel. With our lips close enough to feel each other's breath, I whispered, "make it taste as good as you can, because you're gonna be tasting it right after I do." Holding her head still despite her efforts to close the tiny gap between us, I leaned over to breathe into her ear, "from my lips, on my tongue, in my mouth, if that wasn't clear." I wrapped one leg around her and pulled her to me. "If you still want to, that is?"

I wasn't sure if I liked her 'eep' when I squeezed her to me or her whine in answer to my question better. Still, smart mouthed Devorah rendered nonverbal. Win for Tabitha.

I gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, which prompted more whining, then spun her around and propelled her toward Marie. Who neither struggled nor complained when Devorah dropped her towel and hopped up to plant a kiss square on her mouth.

Is she tryna make me jealous?

Yes.

I snorted as I started toweling Anna dry. Yeah, good luck to her with that. Jealousy's stupid. Then I got a really awesome bad idea. Oh, hey, if you two get it on, can you give me the deets on what makes her finish hardest and fastest?

Unfair.

Aw, okay. I just... She's really working me up to being some kind of huge awesome conquest in her head, and I don't want to disappoint her, y'know?

No idea what prompted it, but all three of my lovely ladies filled the bathroom with uproarious laughter at that point. Screw it, I made them laugh. Laughs are happy. Funny Goof for the Win.