Prompt: Delivery of silly beliefs

Harlow played with the wheat in his mouth as he waited in the church's main sanctuary. Bouncing back and forth from heel to toe, he looked up at the stained glass windows. Weird. All succubuns come from the church's upbringing in one way or another, but it never made him want to take part in their weird practices. In fact, he strayed as far as he could from their beliefs, whether it aligned with his own or not. He would rather not have any association with them. Today, he had to bring a delivery to Oleander, the priest. His regular delivery guy, Hamlet, could not make the trip. So Harlow had to do his own trip. Otherwise, he would have opted to stay on his farm. He scratched behind his upright ear when the nun came up to him.

"Hello, may I help you?"

He turned around and saw a cute bun in a nun outfit. He smiled and winked at her. "Howdy! You don't look like you belong here, miss."

She kept a plastered smile on her face, "I am the head nun. Is there something you need assistance with or should I continue with my duties?" Before Harlow could even answer, she turned to leave.

"Whoah, hey, hey. It's not every day I see a cutie. I work a farm, so the best I got are vegetables. I mean I could carve some faces in them but..," he shrugged, half-joking. Without responding she started to walk off. "I am looking for Oleander. Is the lad here?"

"He has stepped out for the time being."

"Oh. I did not know that the priest could even leave the premise. Isn't that one of your weird practices?"

Mercy turned around, "He is free to go and come as much as you and I are. And do be careful how you speak in here," she cautioned.

Harlow scoffed, "Yea, sure. The demon saviour who took our ancestors against their will, right?"

Mercy turned to face him, her smile gone. "This church and the bunnery raised you. Just like every other succubun. Without this and our great demon, you would probably be left to die."

"And is that so wrong?" Harlow stood tall as he spoke, towering over the nun. His perked ears only made him look taller.

She did not back down and glared up at him, "You have been blessed, and that is why you can speak so freely. You owe your very life to the church."

Cutie or not, Harlow was not going to let this church lass tell him what's what. But, he would not be so direct. "Sure, keep your practices. I am sure people who use the confession booths get a lot off their chest, including clothes."

Mercy raised an eyebrow, "What happens in confessions is between the priest, participant and our saviour."

"I did not know it was a threesome."

The nun did not respond right away. She eyed Harlow carefully. "I suggest you wait outside for when the priest of our church returns."

"I thought this was free grounds, welcoming all with open arms?" he looked at the front doors, watching some succubuns make their way in. "Or am I wrong about that, and you all are just a bunch of mindless followers?" The nun ignored his comment and walked past him to greet the newly arrived guests. He brushed his hand through his hair. Fucking Hamlet needs to make these trips. His delivery guy pick and chooses what he wanted to deliver and Harlow knew that Hamlet, for whatever reason, did not like coming to the church. Maybe I ought to increase his pay so I don't have to make these trips, he wondered. Harlow walked up to the nun, in a much nicer tone, "Is there an office that the priest uses where I can drop this off at?"

"His office is off-limits."

Bullshit. He knew Oleander would definitely let him through, but the nun was being difficult. Sighing, he shook his head and began to make his exit when the priest poked his head through the front door. "Well, just the man I was looking for," Harlow exclaimed. His voice echoed in the hall, startling all the succubuns within the quiet space. Oleander waved for him to follow him. The priest led him to a side room and closed the door. "Fucking dark in here, mate."

"You have my package?" Oleander rubbed his hands together like he was about to receive some delicious meal.

"Yuppers," he passed the package off and the priest ripped it open, onions falling out, it had concealed some sort of blush lingerie. The priest grinned; in the candlelit room, it looked rather sinister. Harlow cleared his throat and Oleander promptly reached into his robe to retrieve the agreed payment. "Good doing business with ya," he tucked the carats inside his overalls, patted the pocket and made his way to the door. What his clients order is none of his business, so long as they paid. Especially if he was asked to smuggle something. Harlow caught a glimpse of the nun assisting with another bun in the main hall. He wondered why she was so worked up about their teachings; it's not like the church hides its lust filled practices, not especially with Oleander running the place. Another problem for another soul. He shrugged.