Dear Diary,

"Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them."

- Dalai Lama

This one has me all kinds of conflicted, although with the Maximum Awesome of the past few days, I can't do anything but laugh, really. On the one hand I totally agree. Not just that, but I've heard of this dude, like some kind of Tibetan Mr. Rogers or something. Don't get me wrong, to me that puts him right up on the highest plane of Moral Authority. Like, the 'synchronize your Moral Compass with these Standards' kind of shit. So I'm feeling kinda warm and fuzzy that another dude like that is basically telling me that my goal state is Good. I gotta put that 'goal state' shit in there, because even with the past couple days of presents and food and sexy therapy, I'm still quite aware that within the past month I've not only beaten someone into the ground by shoving my fingers into her lack of a nose, I've also literally beaten myself to death. Good causes, wouldn't take it back, but complete fail on the 'at least don't hurt them'.

On the other hand, holy shit, is this dude spouting stuff this simple and getting worldwide acclaim for it and shit? Like, I'm the goofiest dumbass that ever failed to fart, with a Moral Compass that points to 'sexy times' when I give it a good whack and I'm lucky, and I managed to come up with that. Okay, maybe it took me a few days. Weeks. Months. Okay, look, it's a work in progress, but I still got there, and nobody considers me some kind of global or even regional...

Oh. Shit. Yeah. Forget I said anything. Just me talkin' out my ass again. Everybody's used to that by now, right? I sure as fuck am.

So yesterday after a day of reading with Maze, overwatch with Marie, basketball with cheerleader Saffron, and refereeing the little kid games I'd previously been part of, I gradually collapsed down to just the me in Lancaster House. First I brought Marie back to the Academy where she'd just put somebody in the newly created penalty box for punching another player in the face. Then Maze and I put her book away, I picked up her and Saffron, one in each arm, and collapsed us back to Lancaster House, then I pulled the trio of us in the Practice Yard back to Lancaster House as well.

Dinner was roast pork, way more heavily seasoned than I'd had before in the here and now, and definitely done in some kind of crock or Dutch oven, because instead of having the texture of soft leather, the fattier portions just melted in my mouth, and the meatier ones had a lovely mouth feel. Not unlike my wives, really. I need to stop doing that. Not because she's not going to be, but because if I keep doing it, I'm gonna forget she's not, and I have plans. Schemes. Strategies and tactics and a whole campaign to move her inexorably from her current status of wifiest wife ever to not be wifed into more pregnant than possible and incapable of self locomotion.

At bedtime, Marie delivered another surprise present, and this one wasn't for me! When Maze brought up the rear of the bedtime procession, Marie pulled out her newly finished hooded midnight colored onesie, complete with pony tail on the butt and horse ears sticking off the hood. She hemmed and hawed about putting it on, until Marie held it out for her to step into. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, pulled the hood up, and Marie gently buttoned the buttons all the way up to the top one, which was still a comfy distance away from her neck. The thing looked a little baggy on her, but I figured that would be a good thing if she wanted to wear it when she was, like, fifteen and holy shit I would have to beat the fuckin' guys off with a stick if she shot up to my height even. I mean, that pretty much goes for any fifteen year old squeezing themselves into a onesie sized for a maybe twelve year old, but still, she kept joking about me being the papa, and that meant it was my job to do that stick beating. I mean, of the unwanted ones, or the ones who measured too high on the creep scale and shit. She's my responsibility to defend, not my property or any shit like that. Just like my little hellspawn Menace, if she wants to go raise hell, my only input is gonna be advisories about lifting with her knees and that kinda crap.

I'm gonna wind up with six of them. Six. I'm gonna need more hands.

Don't @ me about 'oh, daughters of the Imperator and Champion'. You know as well as I do that shit is like catnip for just the wrong kind of entitled asshole.

When Marie finished fastening the buttons, Maze spun in place looking at herself, then pranced over to me and took my hand. Then she looked back and forth between her onesie and the tub, obviously stuck on the horns of a dilemma. I'd always wanted a dilemma head for the wall, and soon we'd have a place to put it, so I squatted down next to her and murmured, "can't decide, huh?" She shook her head. "Well, three pieces of advice. First, I know she knows you like it, but it would be good to thank her and tell her so. Second, you could always ask her if it's tub safe. Third, if it's not, we can go in the tub any night you want, but this is the only night she'll give you that onesie for the very first time. Okay?"

She nodded, thoughtful, then let go of my hand and walked solemnly back to Marie. "Thank you."

Marie squatted down and pulled her into a hug. "Welcome."

When the embrace ended, Maze tugged on the fabric and asked, "is this safe," she nodded to the tub, "in the water?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Marie smiled and nodded, and I called out, "even really hot water?" Marie just gave me a look, and I held up my hands, laughing. "Okay, okay, just asking. You've never been in a Maze hot tub before, I don't think."

She just smiled, shrugged, and said, "Hands."

"Huh. I guess you would have at that. So, Maze, you wanna give Marie and your sibs good night kisses while I get the fire started?" She nodded, hopped up to kiss Marie's cheek, then scampered off into the other room. I turned to load up the wood, but before I got more than half done, Marie swept in behind me, spinning me around, pinning me to her, and pulling me up into an embrace. "Vlickies."

Then she kissed me, long and slow. Vlickies, I would have you as mother to my children.

Holy shit, Murder Mittens! Did you just ask me to marry you? She pulled back, smiling shyly as she nodded. "Yes!"

She looked down my front, frowning. "Ring."

"You want an engagement ring to put on me?" She nodded, that shy smile returning. "To mark my acceptance of your proposal?" Her smile curved a little more, and she nodded again. I threw my legs around behind her thighs, clamping myself to her. "To bind me and mark me as yours?" No more smiles, no more nods, just that Glorious tongue invading my utterly unneeded breathing apparatus.

A tiny hand smacked my thigh. "Silly. Didn't even start the fire."

I absolutely had negative desire to evict Marie's tongue from my bronchial passages, so I reached down somewhere deep inside for something I knew must be there. When I found it, I pushed Mana at the Hearth, and fires bloomed under each kettle.

A while later, that tiny hand poked at me again. "They're boiling." By that point Marie's tongue had retreated, and I'd staged a counter invasion and was carefully doing a fang by fang inspection, testing cleanliness and sharpness. I pulled back, the taste of the sea filling my entire throat and nasal cavity. Then I got an idea. "Hey, Maze, can you be scalded by water?"

"No. The kettles can hurt though."

I gave Marie one final kiss on the nose, then hopped down and scooped Maze up. I stepped into the bath tub, then lay my ass down, cradling Maze against me. "Could you please, love?"

She nodded, lifted a kettle in each hand, and dumped them over the two of us. Maze giggled and shoved her face under the deluge, splattering boiling water all over me. I closed my eyes as it seared away the constant aching pain. I couldn't really describe how it felt except that it hurt, but a good kind of hurt, the kind you knew would go away with rest and time, rather than the kind that just lurked there, aching endlessly, like my scars.

When she'd poured all the kettles in, Marie settled by the side of the tub, kneeling to reach in with both hands to run her fingers through our hair. If she winced a little when her claws dipped into the steaming water, she didn't hesitate in the slightest to keep doing it. After a while, when I lay there near sleep, feeling the rise and fall of Maze's chest in my arms, something flickered in the room, Marie's Maid uniform fluttering as she moved.

Good night, wife to be.

Goddess? Boon?

I smiled, slow and languorous. Anything I have, anything I am, is yours, my love.

Then she slipped in beside us, snuggling around us until with the warmth of the water I couldn't tell where one of us ended and the other began. My eyes fluttering open just enough to take in her horrifying beauty, I leaned in as she kissed me, then drifted off to sleep.

A finger booped my nose. Now she's got both of you doing it!

Marie and I slipped up out of the water, Maze becoming visible as her sleepy head cleared the water, her hoodie dripping as water rolled out of it. "You really ought to try this. Feels so fuckin' good on my scars. Makes sore muscles go all loosey goosey and just ooh."

Saffron looked a little pouty. "I don't want to interfere with your special thing."

I thought you were all about interfering with my special thing. "Maze? What do you think? Would you want mama Saffron in the tub too?" She just smiled up at us, like she'd been afraid to ask before I offered. "See?"

"But then who will..." Saffron petered off, then shook her head. "I really can't believe I didn't think of that." Then she sighed. "Well, at least if I need to adjust the plans for the bath in the new house so it accommodates twelve to fourteen at a time, I know that now, before we begin construction."

I blinked a little at the idea of some kind of massive public bath thing like I'd seen in Anime, then shot her, like, an image of what I'd seen, where they got clean in shower things before getting in the soaking tub. Then my brain caught up to what she'd said about construction. "Hey, when does that start, anyhow?"

She smiled down at us. "When you're done breakfast."

I don't think I've ever rushed through a meal to get to work when, like, I didn't have to be at work at a particular time before.

Like okay, I love perching atop Black Dragon's mast, leaning against Marie, reminiscing fondly about what bits of her steel no longer qualify as 'Extra Virgin'. Reading with Maze is a special treat that I might actually feel some kinda way if one of the others tried to horn in on, although... Kitten?

Yes, love?

If for whatever reason I can't read with Maze, can you make sure you or Marie fill in for me?

Be at peace, my love.

Thanks.

At any rate, even playing with the kids, before I got voted into the boring referee position, was cool and all, but I'd never ended a meal prematurely for any of those things.

I mean, shit, I think I must have granted 'no gag reflex' to Saffron as a Boon or some shit, because I shoveled four whole Waffles loaded with syrup, whipped cream, and butter into her in like five minutes, tops. I practically used the spoon as a rammer at one point while everybody laughed at our slapstick routine.

When, minutes later, we stood in our little valley, this time accompanied by Marie, she took a deep breath and, smiling, said, "love, I say this from a place not only of love, but of deep and abiding lust, but unless you're prepared to take me right on the table, please don't do that again."

"Right. Note to self. Do that in private as often as possible." She giggled, slapped at me playfully, then froze when I caught her wrist.

Yeah, we started a little bit late.

A very little bit.

I rushed that, too.