Dear Diary,

No.

I will not be... that. I know I've joked around before about 'if we can't have cuddle puddles and mind blowing sex and sushi, what are we even fighting for', but... no.

I wish I could be an idealist and say something all profound and noble and shit like 'there are some lines you don't cross', but I fuckin' did, didn't I? But that's just it. We all fuck up sometimes. Maybe in a perfect world, where nobody was forced to do anything before they knew all the consequences, where nobody got forced to do shit by circumstance, where shit wasn't shit, I could do that. But I'm not from that world, and here and now is even less sunshine and roses than Camden was.

I wish I had the privilege to be an idealist. To not have to think about shit as fucked up as 'why did those guys think grabbing slaves like fuckable party favors was okay'. To just start killing and not stop until nobody remained except the pure and good and me, neither pure nor good nor vulnerable enough to care about either. But that's the path to the pinnacle of the shit pyramid, and if I wind up there, it won't be because I went there knowingly or willingly.

But I've got to acknowledge and accept that my impulses in the here and now, and I can't even be sure if they're Mimic impulses, empowered Tabitha impulses, or some fucked up mixture of both, but those impulses will lead me unerringly to the top of the shit pyramid. Which means I can't just give in to my impulses. Which is going to fuck with me severely if Gregor ever pulls his head far enough out of his goddamned duodenum to actually send a Champion at me.

But that's the price, not the one I've gotta pay, but the one I've chosen to pay. If the only way to stop this massive shit pile of a world from sinking deeper into shittiness that makes casual rape and murder seem okay, then I might as well gather the fam for one last group hug before I push the fuckin' big red button. I know that the whole point of not ending everything is that 'fate worse than death' assumes there's no Hope of things getting better, but in a world where the Gods are determined to keep shit worse instead of making it better, Hope isn't helpful, it's stupid.

I mean, it's kinda terrifying to have anyhow, since having Hope means that you think things can get better, which means if they don't, it might be somebody's fault, and as the biggest dog on the block, the buck stops with me. But for all General Lancaster's many, many faults, and I'm not sure if his 'institutionalized rape' is better or worse than the Norfolk 'normalized rape', he was right about one thing. Show people a symbol of Hope and no matter how far down the drain they've already swirled, they're gonna start climbing. Trying, anyhow, and sometimes when you get enough people trying to do something hard enough, they'll surprise you.

I just wish I hadn't agreed to let Saffron make the call on the whole 'rape as diplomatic tool' thing. I get her point; any time we say 'no, we will not do this', we give the fuckers trying to keep this world the way it is another point of leverage, another advantage, and they started with all the fuckin' cards anyhow. Well, okay, every card but the trump card they locked in a box and threw to the bottom of the river. And now I realize that this, the thing that had me most angsty about this whole thing, up to and including semi-accidental self-gratification through torture-murder, has a simple solution.

Saffron?

Yes, Goof?

High Priestess Saffron, set above all others?

Her tone changed subtly, but immediately. Yes, My Goddess?

Hear me, and mark my words. Rape, the Act of Intimate Violation of Consent, is Abhorrent unto Me. None of my faithful are to accept those who perform such acts, who allow or accept such acts, to order such acts.

As My Goddess most wisely wishes, it shall be so. I got a spontaneous burst of Worship right then. To what degree shall we inflict your wrath upon them, My Goddess?

To whatever extent it takes to assure they cannot do so again.

Shall we allow them to apologize? Atone? Return to your embrace?

Fuck, Kitten. Everybody makes mistakes. Somebody fucks up, and they try to make it right? I'd be a fuckin' hypocrite if I said no, wouldn't I?

My Goddess is merciful. Your 'peers' would not make the distinction.

Yeah, well. I do.

If I thought I'd got a bucket of Worship before, this wave hit like a damn freight train. Which is why they are truly not, and never will be, your peers.

I woke after a night of the weirdest fuckin' Mimic dreams yet. Domnu's pornographic M-Space sky had gotten to some really freaky Hentai shit only possible with a dude whose member had dimensions larger than his partner's torso and a Goddess for whom causality and space time were exactly as constraining as she wanted them to be at the moment. That wasn't even the weirdest thing. Pride of place for that got reserved for chibi Chefs Marie yeeting themselves into my maw in lieu of shrimp, over and over and over through the night. Fuzzy should not be a good mouth feel, let alone that good.

Woke to a pretty nice, sunny day. I reached over and ran my hands over Marie's hair, then rubbed her face fur. It crunched, then smoothed out to its normal fuzzy feel. That patch of her slid way back away from the depths of the Uncanny Valley as well. I couldn't resist. "I'mma skritch your whole body now, k?"

"Okay."

Permission for the win! I lost my goddamned mind running my nails over and through her freaky looking poorly dried fur until it poofed out into its normal fuzziness, then running my hands over the fuzzy. And my arms. And my face. Especially my face. Kissing may have involved. I didn't technically ask about that, but I took her hand wrapped around the back of my head guiding me to the next spot she wanted to plant my face as a really fuckin' pointed suggestion.

When she lay there purring and puddled, I snuggled up into her, only to have The Dress crunch uncomfortably. I realized just then that Marie had laid down starkers with us, right in the middle of the stage. "You're naked."

"Yes."

"Yeah, that was kinda a stupid observation, wasn't it?"

"Maybe?"

Right about then Saffron started laughing; we'd squirmed away from her while I did my Marie grooming thing, but now she just lay there chuckling. She still had her jeans and white tank top on, although the whole 'wet, so sheer' thing had worn off. Of course, whether she currently felt excited or cold enough to justify it, her shirt had dried in the image of her nips declaring themselves independent nations set above the rest of her. I kinda figured she'd come over to us, but she just lay there chuckling.

"You okay, Kitten?"

"Of course, love." She rolled her head around to look at where I lounged against Marie, but still didn't move.

"So why you no join cuddle pile?"

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She smiled and her laughter burbled up again. "These pants offer some nice support, and the shirt is surprisingly comfortable, but both of them have dried to an uncomfortably constricting degree."

"So.... why are you wearing them again?"

She smirked up at me, the Grin lurking beneath it. "Other than the lack of anything resembling privacy?"

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that."

"Damn. I was mostly worried about it for your sake."

I sighed. "Yeah. I dunno why, I'm just not in the mood to show off our canoodling just now." Sudden inspiration struck. "Hey, can you make a donut shaped Filtration ward?"

"Donut?"

"Yeah, like, a ring? I mean, that's basically what a donut is, a fat ring of pastry."

She shrugged, concentrated, and a twenty foot high ring of blackest night surrounded us, the top letting the warm sun shine down on us. After looking at Marie's albino white fur, my own beacons are lit complexion, and Saffron's only slightly darker than me blinding white, I said, "can you just block some colors of light?"

"Of course. Which did you want blocked?"

"Can you block, like, ninety five percent of the UV light?"

She raised an eyebrow, which looked weird with her looking at me upside down already. "First, you'd best be glad I've learned enough math to casually converse about percentages. Second, absolutely, as soon as you tell me what 'of' light is."

"Oh, sorry! UV, short for 'ultraviolet'. Like, the colors off the spectrum past Violet."

She blinked at that. "There are colors off the spectrum?"

"Yes." Marie's interruption had less 'duh' in it than normal when stating blindingly obvious facts, but 'less' is not 'none'.

Saffron frowned, muttering as she concentrated on Shaping. "You, my fine Maenad, are very mouthy for a concubine."

Marie's unrepentant, "Yes." drew a whole assed chortle from me.

"Continue along this path and there will be consequences, Beloved Maenad."

Hearing Marie spend one of her carefully hoarded daily syllables to deadpan, "Eep." had me rolling over and clutching at my belly, curled up with my face in her fuzzy belly as I laughed.

"Such consequences might involve solemn ceremonies, and having to find yet another Godmother for Isnomi." Marie kinda slumped, and when I rolled away far enough I saw genuine hurt in her eyes until Saffron continued with, "for exactly the same reason as I... well, we had to replace Tabitha, you fuzzy miscreant you." Confusion replaced hurt, and I got to see the exact moment comprehension hit; her eyes popped wide and she scrabbled backward until I glomped onto her leg.

"You know we won't force you, right?"

"yes" Her whisper came out so low I almost thought I imagined it.

"You also know that barring you being, y'know, her actual mother by marriage making Godmother redundant we're not going to go looking for another Godmother, right?"

"yes" I had no clue why she'd gone from cocky Murder Mittens to terrified kitten so quick, but I kinda wanted to fix my broken Maenad if I could, like before it became permanent.

"So you've got nothing to be afraid of. You don't wanna, so neither of those things is gonna happen. Right?" I sat there, one arm wrapped around her leg, the other hand stroking her thigh, as she shivered and stared wide eyed at me. It took me a hot second, but comprehension finally hit me. "Oh." Moving carefully so as not to spook her, I slid around until I sat behind her, gently laying her head in my lap and moving my fingertips in tiny circles on her temples. "We love you, Marie. We're here to support whatever you decide. Not to pressure you one way or the other. If you don't want it, you don't have to take it. If you do want it, it's yours." She looked more than a little frightened, and I continued with, "without any expectation or demand of exclusivity, you D addicted fuzzball." She still didn't relax, so I moved my hands down to her shoulders as I whispered, "and if you want it, truly want it, but you're too scared to reach out and take it, we'll walk you there hand in hand in hand."

"We most certainly will, dearest Marie. That door is open to you, and will remain so forevermore." Saffron blew out a short lungful of air, then said, "second ward is up, I think."

"Yes." Marie sounded a lot less terrified when given something less scary to jump to. She purred underneath my continued shoulder massage.

"Um, Kitten? We've got our privacy fence and our sunburn protection. Why are you still dressed?"

Still upside down, the Grin came out in full effect. "I thought you'd enjoy undressing me."

Okay, I might love that outfit, but sudden urges are sudden. "Marie, go collect our naughty little Kitten for me?"

"Yes!" She growled and pounced, and by the time I'd rolled to my feet, Saffron dangled in front of me, Marie's hands around her hips, her arms folded.

My grin went just a little feral as I looked up the tiniest bit into Saffron's eyes, and I couldn't resist stepping up, grabbing the back of her head, and kissing her. Her mouth responded, but her arms stayed crossed. As I pulled away, I gently separated her arms, moving them to her sides, then chuckled a little and said, "remind me to apologize to Conrad, Kitten?"

That got a perfect puzzled look from her. "For what, love?"

"This." I grabbed a handful of her tank top in each hand and, absolutely leaning on my pilfered Strength, ripped it clean off. Very bounce. Much distract. Nip? Reaction. Jiggle? Physics. Wow.

She gasped as the fabric pressed across her as it ripped. A few moments later, as I stood there in stunned adoration of the perfection I'd revealed, she chuckled and said, "I'm a bit disappointed. With that opening I half expected to be ravished by now."

"Tsk. Marie?" I waved my hands, and Marie tossed Saffron to me. I caught her under her arms and, as her eyes fluttered in anticipation of being kissed, said, "now tear those pants off."

Saffron's eyes shot open as our lips met, and I watched her pupils dilate and her eyes cross just a little to the sound of denim shredding as easily as I'd ripped her shirt. When I pulled away to let her breathe, she whispered, "am I to join the ranks of the Maenads today, ladies?"

I shook my head, grinning like the idiot we all know I am. "Mine. Mine. All mine. No share with D. Mine!"

Murder Mittens loomed behind my Kitten, pressed up close until one of her arms went around us both. "Ours."

I reached around Saffron, around Marie, even though my hand barely reached to her waist, and pulled her close as hard as she'd pulled me. "That's what I said!"

Best antics are laughing antics.

As we lay there after Saffron asked, "so what's the plan for today, love?"

I crowed out, "sunbathing!"

"Sunbathing."

Her tone got me a little pouty. "Yeah. I wanna get a tan. I've never been this toned, and now I wanna lay here until I'm all toasty, tanned, and... uh... toasty."

I heard the eye roll in her voice when she said, "Marie, could you retrieve some blankets, please?"

A moment later a blanket flopped over each of us. "Aw, but that blocks the sun!"

"They're to lay on, Goof of my dreams."

"Duh."

"Oh, fuck you both."

"Again?"

I couldn't keep my mad up. I couldn't even fake it. I broke down laughing as I helped Marie arrange our blankets for maximum tanning comfort. As we settled in face down to get our back tans started, something Saffron had said finally percolated through my skull. "Do you dream about me too?"

She'd been lying with her face buried in her arms, but she turned to face me, and in that moment I knew exactly what people meant when they talked about a look of religious ecstasy. "Oh, yes." Her eyes didn't flutter open, but they did fuckin' flutter.

"What do you dream about."

Things I would not sully by speaking aloud, my Goddess.

Can you maybe sully them a little by thinking them aloud? Just a little?

Velvet rubbed every inner bit of me, brains to bone, as she chuckled, the Grin made manifest in mental sound. The same thing you do, beloved Goddess. Worship.

I'm not entirely sure I'm comfortable with that...

You're sure you're not, or you're not sure?

I took a deep breath, considering. I'm not sure. You're not hurting yourself, are you?

Not in the slightest, oh my Goofy Goddess. I sighed in relief, and she must have heard. May we convince you?

I sent her an image of me sitting behind a folding table, a big sign in front of it saying, 'This might be too freaky for me', with the words, 'Change My Mind!' right beneath that.

Sleep. She did something, and I drifted off almost immediately. I woke up lying on my back, the sun dipping below the horizon, secure in the knowledge that my chibi Kitten and Murder Mittens chefs yeeting each other into my Mimic mouth was not, in fact, too freaky for me, given the bizarre combination of utter, near food coma relaxation combined with energy levels normally associated with cocaine mules and ruptured condoms. Also, Mimic has no gag reflex and a nom capacity that puts mine to shame, and Secret Technique: Chibi-Chef-Yeet-Jutsu left me completely mystified with whether or not Domnu had been projecting anything on the M-Space sky, because Mimic sure as fuck wasn't paying one fuck's worth of attention to the sky.

"Time to get up, love," Saffron whispered from where she lay snuggled against my left side.

"Yeah." rumbled Marie from my right.

I put my arms around them and pulled them to me as I muttered, "y'know, I think I'm gonna give them until the sun is completely down before I do anything."

"How generous of you."

"Nah. I'm just feelin' too fuckin' lazy to deal with Shitdick before I absolutely have to. I figure we have what, at least half an hour. That's enough time, right?"

"Enough time for what, love?"

I ran my hands down their sides, not quite tickling. "To be sure I'm entirely too un-frustrated to accidentally do something I'd regret."

Never thought I'd be quite so turned on by Marie playing 'make the dress up dolls kiss' as she growled out, "Yes."