#the bat coven llc

[the-bats-who-simp]

Upon Holy Ground

Chapter 1: Magnolia

A Bat Coven LLC Production

Co-authored by @the-bats-who-simp and @alwaysyourshenry

Warnings: Very light smut (kissing, titty touches, etc.)

Ajax rubbed his back, sore with old age as often happens. He looked sightlessly out on the town fondly, feeling the chill on his face that almost felt like an old friend at this point if not for the small freezing bites it gave him. He remembered his mother, one of the very last women to give birth during the last summer. Her face was always clear in his head, even if the background faded away with the years. His memory could only do so much good. His hair and beard were streaked with silver, his eyes wise and as blue as the summer sky he was born under.

On his back he carried his granddaughter, too young to wear the heavy snow shoes they all had to wear to get around the town. In front of him, sled dogs, happy and rolling around in the snow. For as long as he could remember, it was his job to help distribute food amongst the town. It was a group effort, of course, everybody helped out where they could all things considered. It was in their nature to be considerate and selfless, part of the teachings and values they’d been raised by. Helping those in need, treat others with respect and you’ll receive respect in return. That is, of course, not to say hedonism was frowned upon, far from it. One could indulge and be selfless at the same time. Those two things weren’t mutually exclusive.

Ajax now carried the last of the bread. His grandson, Everest, had made it in the bakery in the middle of town with the last of the ingredients from the last excursion beyond Paradiso’s borders. Not even the cold could get rid of the warmth of a freshly made loaf, perhaps through divine intervention or the insulated carriers he used.

The Preacher and the head of the town, Jamie, was currently out gathering more food though. They always timed it so that they’d always return with fresh supplies the moment the last load had run out. They made sure to make every scrap of fabric and bit of grain worthwhile, not a single bit was put to waste. This time, Jamie left with three of his witches. Eva, Theresa, and Mars. They each had their own specialties that helped the gathering of food, medicine, and other supplies, which was why they were often the ones to go on these extensive trips.

Sometimes other witches would go instead of those three to have time beyond the perpetually frozen stretches of land and time. They’d pile into Jamie’s beat up old truck from the early 1970s with burlap sacks that could carry more than they appeared to and leave for a week or two depending on the necessity. It only happened at most four times a year; Jamie was always very good about cataloging exactly what was needed and how that supply could be made to stretch. It wasn’t the perfect living like the name of the town suggested it would be, but they made it work. In Jamie’s stead, Nora became the new head of town as the oldest official witch amongst them.

Nora always stood at the helm of the ship, so to speak, and now led with great confidence and wisdom. Her eyes glowed golden with divine power, a remnant of the blazing hot sun that used to threaten to burn their beautiful Paradiso to the ground, beautiful pastel shotgun houses and all.

Ajax’s granddaughter, Vivian, named after her godmother, covered Ajax’s snow blind eyes. He had never seen her beautiful face, nor that of his wife, daughter, and grandson. The eternal winter had taken more than just heat and carefree mobility from the villagers over the decades. Back in the beginning, snow came to Paradiso only rarely and only for short periods of time. Nobody knew what the proper steps to take were, so several people suffered. Frostbite, chill-borne sickness, and snow blindness. It saddened Ajax that his children and grandchildren had never known life before. He wasn’t sure how many of his line would never see summer blooms and greenery, if they ever would again. Everyone prayed daily that the summer would someday come back, but as of now, it showed no signs of its return.

Vivian (the Younger, as her godmother and namesake had called her) giggled, sitting high upon Ajax’s back as he climbed up the tall walk to his small, shotgun house, painted a nice robin’s egg blue with white trim. The paint was peeling and the wood was slightly bloated with years of gradual water damage. Even if Ajax couldn’t see it, he knew it was there. It was part of the house’s charm, he said, every single scar bearing a story as they often did. From outside, he could hear the laughter of the town's children, whom his beautiful wife, Athen, often babysat. She had always loved children, and even at her age, she could keep up with the young ones with ease save for the occasional crick and pulled muscle. Other symptoms of the oncoming twilight years of life.

As soon as Ajax walked in, the horde of children scurried over to meet him. They called his name, grabbing his hands and pant legs and dragging him over to a plush rocking chair in the corner.

“Please,” one of the children called, “tell us the stories!”

Ajax could feel the heat emanating from the lightbulb in the tall lamp behind him, reminding him of the stories his mother would tell.

“It was a long time ago,” he started, feeling their eyes on him as they all sat around his feet, “The sun was blazing hot. Everyone in town had sweat creeping down their brow. My mother, Harlow, was one of the very last to give birth before the snow fell. She said that it was so hot in the house that she gave birth to me in an ice bath.”

The children ‘ooed’ and ‘ahhed,’ fascinated by someone who wanted to be cold. They shivered, even with the heat all the way up in the tiny little house. Many of them wore hand-knitted jumpers made by their god parents. The cold was always there, always permeating. It was hard to escape, but they made do. By now it seemed normal.

“And tell us about Jamie!” One girl from the back smiled, clearly having a little childhood crush on the town’s beloved Preacher. Many did, regardless of age or gender. He was a charming man, bearing hair of spun gold and eyes of ocean blue. His smile was the closest thing to sunlight many of them saw most days.

“He was a different man back then, from what I gather.” Ajax said, remembering the blazing heat of the last summer five decades past. The coven had always tried to be transparent about problems in the spirit of integrity and also understanding the villagers weren’t stupid. The flock could always tell when things were going sideways and it was better for everyone to remain honest and maintain that trust. “He has changed a lot for the better. Did you know, Auntie Lili used to be one of his wives?”

All the children gasped, some even pretended to faint. Paradiso’s children tended to have a flair for the dramatic; most of the witches did anyway and that was a behavior very easily replicated.

“It’s true. Then Jamie’s brother came to town and Lili fell in love with him. You know how we’re always taught that love can happen at random with anybody? They’re a testament to that fact.” Ajax continued.

“We all thought that their squabbling was the cause of the Long Winter, but the longer it stretched, the less we were sure that’s what it was.” Athen put in, wiping her hands dry with an old green dish towel. Dinner would be ready soon, the smell of the roast starting to permeate through the house. It made it seem a little warmer inside.

“It caused the heatwave for sure, though.” Ajax added.

“So why is it always cold?” Vivian the Younger asked.

“We don’t know.” Athen said, shrugging her shoulders and sitting on the armrest of Ajax’s chair. “The witches have been trying to figure it out for years with no luck. Mother Juliet willing, someday they’ll figure it out and be able to bring summer back. It’s tragic you children don’t know the joys of swimming in the lagoon or enjoying a sunset in a fully bloomed flower field. I’m even surprised I miss sunburns and sweating during service. It all seems so long ago now.”

“I’m sure someday you’ll see the sun again, darling.” Ajax said, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently. She squeezed back, resting her body up against his shoulders. Athen looked out the window and let out a great sigh as her husband continued monologuing. Fresh flurries had started floating their way down as the sky grew darker. Night was approaching. She missed the sun, missed when the moon wasn’t just a pale blur in the sky. She missed a lot of things. It was important to be grateful for what they did have, though. Their health, a wonderful horde of children to care for, grandchildren, a place to live, the protection of their witches…

Just not summer.

***

“Viv, hold still, you’re making the line work shakey.” Lili said, using her arm to keep Vivian’s right calf pinned down in her lap, very carefully dragging the thin green Sharpie marker along her skin, now covered in a coil of ivy wrapping all the way around multiple times.

“But I have to move! It’s getting uncomfortable!” Vivian protested, stretching her arms out at her sides, one resting against the back cushions of the sofa they were sitting on.

“If this was real, there’d be no taking it back. You want tattoos, you have to learn to sit still.” Lili chastised, completing the outline of another leaf.

“I’m pretty sure you’re allowed to take breaks when getting tattoos. Besides, Jamie won’t get us ink, so it’ll never be permanent for the foreseeable future.”

“And for good reason, it’s a luxury we shouldn’t waste our resources on when we have a village to feed and clothe, and he knows we’d all start putting half-mad scribbles on ourselves.”

��Yeah because he knows he’d start doing the same thing.” Vivian sat up, yet kept her leg on Lili’s lap. “But I want my roses!”

“You’re such a child, you’ll get your roses when we can afford the ink… and the patience to put up with your hyperactive ass.” Lili waved the marker in Viv’s face as if that proved her point. Vivian put on a mask of indignance as she took the marker out of Lili’s hand.

“Excuse me, Lili, I can sit very still when I know it’s actually a life or death situation. You’re using markers, not needles.”

“You think tattoos are life or death?”

“Not literally, I’m just saying when I know moving would be a bad idea, I can hold still. Sharpie is hardly a permanent decision in comparison.” Vivian let out an impish grin as she shifted her grip on the uncapped marker and drew a green heart on Lili’s cheek. The other witch balked, snatching the marker back.

“Viv! What the hell?” She snapped, wiping her cheek in vain in hopes it would get the marker off. All it did was smudge the ink, making the mark worse. “God, you’re so insufferable sometimes.”

“You love it though.” Vivian said, grinning triumphantly. Lili scrunched her nose in annoyance, getting up close to Vivian’s face with a glare.

“It doesn’t look professional.” She protested.

“Who even cares, we’re not holding service. It looks adorable… and it’ll wash off.”

“I swear to god, one of these days, I’m gonna–” Lili started before she was cut off by Viv lunging forward, kissing her hard. Startled, Lili let the momentum push her back against the sofa’s armrest, Vivian refusing to break away. She only kissed Lili harder, pinning her down with her body weight as one hand gripped her jaw, the other holding Lili’s hip. She felt the whine escape Lili’s lips, making her smirk as she pushed her tongue past Lili’s lips, deepening the kiss. Lili’s arms came up, wrapping around the back of Vivian’s neck to pull the blood haired witch closer to her. The lip colors they were wearing began to smear against each other, a mix of Vivian’s bright red with Lili’s dark plum shade.

“I’m surprised you didn’t pounce sooner…” Lili said breathlessly as Vivian briefly broke the kiss for air. Vivian smirked down at Lili, snaking her hand underneath Lili’s sweater to teasingly caress her breasts.

“I did say I could hold still if I wanted to.” She purred, pulling the sweater off and kissing down Lili’s neck, her teeth gently scraping against the skin. Lili sighed, tangling her fingers in Vivian’s hair the lower the other witch’s mouth went. She had to give credit where it was due, Vivian was notoriously bad at restraining herself from physical pleasures. Her drive and stamina had been the source of many jokes and gentle jabs at her expense over the years. She chose to wear it like a badge of honor, having come from a repressed upbringing that forbade even thinking about anything of the sort. Lili couldn’t find it in her to shame her for it, especially not when she was particularly skilled at what she did.

Vivian’s mouth reached Lili’s breasts, giving a gentle kiss to each one before shooting back up to resume kissing Lili, the open mouthed kisses hot and heavy. Lili moaned against Viv’s lips, her leg moving to wrap around Vivian’s waist and pull her closer. Vivian just smirked, her hand starting to snake down between Lili’s legs. Her fingers ever so gently brushed against the wet mound, searching for the elastic band of her panties to play with.

“Oh… oh, Vivvy… you–” Lili moaned breathily before being cut off.

“I should know by now to not leave you two alone with each other.” A deep voice spoke up, knocking Lili out of her blissed reverie. Her head turned, seeing Alexander leaning on the doorframe of the living room with his arms folded, an amused smirk on his face. Vivian paused her movements, pouting.

“I can’t help it when she looks so tempting!” She protested. Alex just chuckled, approaching the pair with a teasing smile.

“You think everything’s tempting, little rose. You’re almost worse than my brother. Now, would you kindly let me have my wife back?” He said. Vivian paused before smirking, reaching back down and pulling Lili’s damp panties off in a swift motion. She held them between two fingers almost triumphantly for Alexander to see, an impish grin on her face.

“I would, but look at that wet spot my girlfriend made because of me.” She said. Alexander snatched the undergarments away, towering above Vivian with his own smirk.

“You forget I can do the same thing to her… and you, little rose… In fact, if I recall last night correctly…”

Vivian flushed. “You know that just means that Jamie’s going to go extra hard with ‘reclaiming’ me once he gets back… as he usually does.”

“I know, and that’s clearly why you do it.” Alexander chuckled, picking Lili up in his arms and sitting her in his lap, pulling her sweater back over her head and letting her rest her head against his shoulder. Vivian folded her arms and pouted petulantly next to them, although she had a hard time keeping her face straight.

“I’m a ravenous woman.” She said, toying with Lili’s ink black hair, which had grown out long. Lili giggled, burying her face in the crook of Alex’s neck. He smiled, wrapping his arms around her tenderly and planting a small kiss to her forehead.

***

The old model, faded-red pickup truck was heavy with supplies as it made its way back into the town border. One moment, the path was full of trees, the next, an empty vast wasteland of white. It filled him with the same dred as a blank white page does for an artist with no inspiration. He rolled up the truck windows, Mars and Eva sang together to the truck radio, their voices lilting together in an enchanting harmony. Jamie smiled, his partners always sounded so beautiful together.

He shifted the truck into four wheel drive to climb up the snow covered hill. He looked over at the new passenger next to him, her hair a mix between honey and strawberry blonde. Her eyes an enchanting blue just like his. But, her eyes reminded him of flowers, almost the exact same shade as a cornflower.

He smiled at her, her cornflower eyes were wide with wonder as she looked around at all the snow. He could tell how desperately she wanted to play in it, not yet understanding how cold and biting the eternal winter was. He drove for a while, glancing over at her every now and then. Taking in the wonder in her large sad eyes. The old red backpack in the back of the truck held everything she owned. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and took a selfie with Jamie, tilting her body so he could still focus on the road.

“Smile!” she said enthusiastically.

And so he did, he put on one of his most charming smiles, turning away from the road for a second so she could snap the picture before he turned back. She set the picture as her phone lock screen before putting her phone back in her pocket with a smile.

With some effort on the poor truck’s part, Jamie pulled up to the church on the top of the hill. He’d put chains on the tires to help with traction, but in his mind he knew he would need to replace them soon. The tires too, perhaps. Nothing here was necessarily built for the snow, let alone for as long as it had endured. Plants couldn’t grow, the animals burrowed where they could… the feel of an eternal summer had long since eluded them. They all spilled out of the truck like water, taking in the surroundings. He saw the young woman pull her– his– jacket tighter around herself as the chill started nipping at her face.

Her name fell from his beautiful pink lips so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world, “Magnolia? Would you head inside the church please? There is a surprise waiting inside for you.” He couldn’t tell if the red in her cheeks was from the cold, or reacting to his cadence.

So Magnolia obliged. She carefully walked up to the big sodden church doors and pulled against them until they unlatched and swung open. Inside were three people. Two women that looked reasonably close to Magnolia’s age and a man that bore a striking resemblance to Jamie even through his beard and wire glasses.

Not the surprise she was expecting, certainly, but they smiled at her, pleased to see her. Almost as if they had known her for years, as if they loved her. If Magnolia was put off by it, she certainly didn’t show it.

She smiled back, “Hi, I'm Magnolia!”

The man spoke first, “I am Alexander,” he introduced himself before he gestured to Lili and Vivian, “This is my wife Lili, and that’s Vivian. We are so glad to have you here with us, Magnolia. Welcome to the coven.”

“Coven? Like…witches?” Magnolia asked, her head slightly cocked to the side. Jamie saw Vivian furrow her eyebrows in a similar expression of confusion. Apparently he hadn’t done much explaining before claiming this new girl, bringing her to the town she’d now call home.

“Yes, exactly. Witches. Just like you.” Lili smiled warmly, contrasted by her eyes glowing mysteriously. Entrancing as always.

[nebulousfishgills]

You're beautiful and kind and have such a bright energy! You deserve happiness!

Ciaránnnnnn you're so sweet 😭😭 love you too, bestie ❤️❤️❤️

[secretly-sirens]

DANIIII. You're so pretty! It's giving Vecna.

no way out

[jcbbby]

Preacher's Girl

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, don't fucking look at me right now (especially if you're Jamie...) I know I will not see the gates of heaven for this. anyway... hello, it has been a minute since I wrote a thing. this is a fic centered on Jamie's Preacher character from the I Am music video. and I'm just gonna leave it at that. also this is not proofread!

warnings: 18+ ONLY I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BLOCK YOU DNI, preacher!Jamie x oc, p in v, unprotected sex (DON'T do it), religious imagery and themes, breeding kink if you squint sort of, also kind of a slow burn at first?

***** Cicadas droned outside through the open windows, loud enough to cut through the sound of the quiet chatter amongst the crowd mixed with the whipping of the little old ladies fluttering their hand fans. Ivy stared out of the open window of the sweltering church, trying to zone out to forget where she was. On the eager request of her grandparents and the encouragement of her mother, she agreed to spend the summer with them in their rural Alabama town. It was a much different pace of life out here compared to the bustling city life she was used to.

Her grandparents were old-fashioned, and very religious; something she never seemed to inherit. Her mother had moved out to the east coast to get away from that culture, opting for a more exciting and open-minded life. So, when she seemed to agree that a summer away in the quiet southern state would be good for Ivy, she was shocked.

“It will give you some nice perspective!” She said. “Plus, your grandparents won’t be here forever, you should cherish the time you have left with them.”

Her mother wasn’t wrong, but that did little to ignite any semblance of excitement over the thought. What was there to do in rural Alabama for a young woman from the city? Still, with her sweet old Nana and Pop eager to host their darling granddaughter, she begrudgingly said yes, soon finding herself in the sticky, thick, hazy summer air of the south. Arriving on a Saturday, of course their plan was to get an early night in so they could introduce her to everyone at their church in the morning.

The church must have had been built in the 1800s, still lacking almost all modern features. No air conditioning, no bathrooms, and no modern technology, save for a single microphone at the podium, connected to a small PA speaker. Ivy fanned herself with her hand, glancing around to survey the audience while her grandparents conversed with an older couple in front of them in the first row of pews. As she looked around, a hush fell over, and gazes shifted to the front of the church. She snapped her head in the direction of the crowd, a tall, dark figure emerging from the side of the slightly raised stage.

He stepped up to the podium, placing his hands over either side of the edge, clearing his throat before glancing down and taking a breath. He was surprisingly younger than Ivy was expecting and stood tall and slim. His golden chin-length hair neatly descended from under a large brim black hat. He wore a very fitted three-piece black suit and white button-up dress shirt. As he looked out over the crowd of parishioners, he smiled warmly, letting the skin around his eyes crinkling perfectly into what reminded Ivy of sun rays.

“Good morning, everyone.” He spoke in a deep, warm voice. “Thank you for being here with me today. Let us begin.”

Ivy stared in awe. He was breathtaking. She straightened up in her seat as he began speaking his gospel. His words filled the heavy air of the church and she found herself feeling stuck in his honey smooth voice, hanging on to each word he uttered. Never in her life would she have thought she would find herself paying such close attention to a church sermon.

He moved his gaze in her direction, momentarily locking eyes with her as she felt her cheeks grow hot. Ivy shifted in her seat, darting her eyes down to his shoes. When she dared to glance back up, he was still looking directly at her. He flashed a gentle smirk to her before breaking away. Ivy let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, feeling a shiver run throughout her body. There was something somewhat devious about that smirk. Maybe there would be some excitement this summer in this dirt road town.

*****

Once the service had ended, the church was hosting a start of the summer lunch reception at the community center just down the road. Of course, Ivy’s grandparents were keen to go. This was a town where everyone knew everyone, community events were obligatory at best. She let out a sigh of relief upon walking through the double metal doors of the community center, feeling the breeze of air conditioning hitting her damp face. She followed closely behind her grandparents as they made their way to the table of various foods, mostly homemade.

“I’m going to just go get us a table, I’m not that hungry.” Ivy tapped her grandmother’s shoulder.

“Oh, honey bee, you really oughtta eat something or else you’ll get sick! Here, you’ve got to try Darlene’s biscuits at least!” She handed Ivy a dense golden biscuit.

“Oh…okay, thanks nana.” Ivy forced a smiled before turning to take stock of open seats.

As she sat down, she looked around the large room, hoping to spot the preacher who had her so enamored. She scanned the perimeter, eyes narrowing.

“Well, it seems we have a visitor today.” An oaky voice came from behind her. She turned to see him standing there, the preacher, towering over her. “May I?” He gestured to the seat next to her.

“Of course.” She smiled politely.

He took off his hat, placing it gently on the table in front of him. He smoothed back his hair with one hand, looking to Ivy to reveal his enchanting ice blue eyes.

“Does our visitor have a name?” He smiled.

“I’m Ivy. Uh, I’m Dale and Irene’s granddaughter.” She returned the polite smile, hoping he didn’t notice the quick up and down she gave him or the rosy tint to her cheeks.

“Oh, how nice. Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Jamie, just Jamie, I don’t do the fancy clergy title. Pleasure to meet you.” He winked, extending his hand out to her.

“Nice to meet you too.” She met his hand with hers.

“Oh, good! You’ve met Jamie!” Ivy’s grandmother set her plate down on the table, sinking down into her seat.

“Hello Irene, lovely to see you.” He smiled. “Dale.” He nodded and reached to shake his hand as well. “I was just telling Ivy here that I had heard so much about her from you two, it’s nice to finally meet her.” He looked back to Ivy with a grin.

“Oh, well we’re just so happy to have her here. She’s staying for the summer with us.” Irene beamed.

“Is that so?” Jamie’s voice lilted. “Well, it will be so great to see another pretty face around town for a while.” He winked, facing Ivy so the elder couple wouldn’t notice. Ivy’s heart thumped against her chest. “Well, I’ll let you all be, I’m sure you’ve got things to catch up on. Great to have you with us, Miss Ivy.” Jamie reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips to give a gentle kiss.

“Uh…just Ivy.” She grinned. “Y-yes. It’s great to be here. Thank you.”

Jamie picked up his hat from the table, setting back on his head. He gave Ivy one final look before turning to greet those at the next table over. Ivy bit her lip as she glanced at the hand he had kissed, taking in a breath. His charm was unrelenting, and it knocked the wind clear out of her. She stared, thoughts racing through her mind, as he greeted some other parishioners. Her grandfather’s voice managed to pull her out of her trance, her attention snapping back to the elder.

“Such a nice fella, that one. All the folks around here love him.” Her grandfather said through a mouthful of food. “We were a little wary when he came to replace old Father Wilkins after he died, what with him being so young and all. But I gotta say he’s a real man of faith.”

“How long has he been in town?” Ivy asked.

“Oh I’d say about a year or so now. Said he came from the west, out in the desert, I think. The town’s really taken to him though, you’d think he was a southern boy from the start if it wasn’t for that accent.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, he seems…really friendly.” Ivy turned to look at him conversing with a couple, not much older than she was. She certainly wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but part of her wondered just how friendly he could get.

*****

Over the following few weeks, Ivy found herself looking forward to Sunday services. Each time she attended church, her eyes would seek out Jamie, and he would reciprocate with small glances and smiles. The innocent exchanges gave her butterflies, and she often caught herself daydreaming about him during the weekdays. Perhaps riding around in the old beat-up truck he drove around, windows down, hands intertwined over the center console; relaxing in the shade under the willow tree down by the pond behind the old mill.

But some nights, alone in her room after her grandparents had gone to sleep, she found herself even fantasizing about Jamie. Though she wasn’t religious herself, there was something so guilty about thinking of a man of the church in this way. He was probably pure, saving himself for marriage. Still, Ivy couldn’t help but sense something hidden under his holy exterior. There was something hidden, and the intrigue consumed her.

The two hadn’t shared more than a few cordial words each weekend, between the glances, though. She was beginning to wonder if she had just been completely misreading things through the rose-colored glasses of her own desires.

One Sunday after the service, Jamie stood in the doorway of the church bidding his congregation goodbye as they shuffled out into the bright midday humidity.

“Irene, Dale, Ivy.” He smiled and nodded politely as they passed by him. “Oh, Ivy!” He followed.

“Yes?” She replied, stopping to turn around.

“I’m wondering if you might be interested in volunteering for the end of summer fair that we’re putting on for the kids next weekend. We could really use an extra set of hands, if you’re able.” He smiled.

“Oh, how fun! Ivy would love to help out, wouldn’t you honey bee?!” Irene excitedly grabbed her arm.

Ivy looked between Irene and Jamie. “Uh…yeah, sure. I can help.” She pushed a smile.

Jamie stood up straighter, flashing a toothy grin. “Wonderful. It’s appreciated. We’re having a volunteer meeting with everyone helping on Wednesday night at 7pm, if you can make it.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll be there.”

He tipped his hat to her. “See you then.”

While Ivy somewhat begrudgingly agreed, she was excited at the opportunity to spend more time with the intriguing preacher during her final week here. She didn’t expect much, but at least she would be able to be around him, drinking in the sight of his tall figure and wonderfully sculpted face.

*****

The Wednesday meeting arrived, going as one would typically expect. The logistics and volunteer duties and assignments were discussed, the timeline, a question-and-answer portion. Jamie dismissed the volunteers, thanking them for their time commitment and willingness to assist.

“Ivy, would you mind hanging back a minute. There’s something I forgot to go over with you.” Jamie called out from his seat as the small group filed down the aisle.

Ivy turned around, letting a few others walk by her on either side. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit.” Jamie gestured to the pew in front of him.

She complied, coming to sit down. As the last person went out the door, it closed behind them with a click that echoed throughout the room. Jamie got up from his chair on the platform, coming down to the pew where Ivy sat and sitting beside her. She felt her breathing pick up slightly, his cologne enveloping the air around her.

Jamie turned to her. “Ivy, I’ve noticed something has been weighing on you.”

Her stomach dropped. He had noticed the way she had been looking at him and the blushing when he glanced back at her after all. She felt his hand rest on her thigh, drawing her out of her own mind and thoughts. She looked down to her lap and then back up to him. His eyes were dark and suggestive.

“Have you had…sinful thoughts?” He asked calmly.

Swallowing hard, Ivy paused, opening her mouth to speak but having no earthly idea of how to respond. She resolved to a shallow nod, darting her eyes anywhere but to his, unsure of how honest she could be with him. Her mind reeled, caught between the boundaries of his position and her own suppressed desires. Jamie nodded back to her, looking forward and letting his gaze wander.

“I have to admit…” He turned his gaze now to her. “I have too.”

Ivy’s heart was in her throat. “Oh?” Was all she could manage to squeak out, the warmth of his hand still radiating through the fabric of her sundress. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing against her earlobe.

“Will you hear my confession?” He whispered.

She turned to him, their faces mere centimeters from each other. “Y-yes…”

He met her eyes with his own. “Those thoughts have been about you.” He said in a hushed tone, his thumb beginning to caress where it rested on her thigh.

A mix of shock and excitement washed over Ivy, burning itself all the way down to her core. She hadn't expected him to be so candid and so forward. She found herself still speechless, never having thought her desires would be equally reciprocated. After a beat, she found her voice.

"Is...is that even allowed?" She whispered, concerned about a faith she didn't even fully understand. “I thought that god-“

"Do you even believe in god?" Jamie interrupted, his tone genuine.

Ivy hesitated before admitting, "No, I don’t…"

Jamie smirked. "Then don't worry about it." He said, leaning closer, his other hand coming to grip her chin. "You don't have to pretend to be so innocent then, do you, my little lamb?"

“I…” She started to reply before his hand on her thigh ventured deeper between her legs. Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the panties that were already wet with her neediness.

“What, you what?” He cooed, still holding her chin tightly with his other hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” She breathed. “I want you to touch me. Please.”

She felt his lips crash against hers, like a man starved. He released her chin, slinking his hand around her neck and up the back of her head. She quickly adjusted herself, swinging her leg over his to sit on his lap, straddling him.

“Not so timid anymore it seems.” Jamie pulled back, smirking.

“I just said I don’t believe in god, I’m going to hell anyway, I might as well enjoy myself along the way.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I can give you something to believe in.” In a swift motion, Jamie slipped his hands under Ivy’s thighs, lifting her up as he stood up.

He walked them both towards the platform, stepping up, and pressing her back against the wall, just under a large wooden cross. Her legs stayed wrapped around his waist, hands rustling through his golden hair. His lips furiously pressed against hers, tongue and teeth coming together in a raw passion. His mouth ventured down to her neck, nipping and suckling just under her ear as Ivy let out a gentle whimper. She felt his length hardening against her inner thigh, making her need for him grow stronger.

“Are you gonna fuck me right here under this cross?” She breathed.

Jamie abruptly stopped, pulling back to look her in the eye. He let her legs fall individually and took half a step back. Ivy furrowed her brow, confused. She wondered if he had suddenly had a change of heart, or if he realized how sacrilegious this all was.

“Hey.” He said sternly. “We’re in a church. You should know you can’t use that language in the house of the lord.”

“Oh, uh-“

“You know you have to be punished.” He smirked wickedly, stepping backward again.

Ivy’s blood pumped furiously through her veins, excitement overtaking her. This was undoubtedly so wrong, but so thrilling. He glanced to the lectern, where a thick bible sat neatly on top. He took it in his hand, turning back to Ivy. He pulled the chair on the platform closer to him, taking a seat and patting his lap.

“Come on.” He gestured. “Bend over, take your punishment.”

Ivy hesitantly made her way over to Jamie, slowly sinking herself lower and folding herself over his lap. Her breath was heavy, anticipating. He cleared his throat and reached for the hem of her dress, sliding it slowly upwards, fully revealing her light pink panties. He neatly folded the fabric at the small of her back, gently smoothing it out with minimal pressure.

“Now…” He sighed.

He drew back the hand holding the bible, and with a swift flick of his wrist, the leather-bound cover made sharp, unforgiving contact with Ivy’s supple backside. She let out a shrill yelp as it came down on her flesh, knowing full well this would leave a mark. Without missing a beat, Jamie pulled back and delivered another hard whack to her. Her shriek echoed off the walls of the empty church, this rap stinging worse than the first one on her already red skin. Tears began to well in the corner of her eyes.

“P-please…I’m sorry.” She whimpered softly.

“What was that, my little lamb?” He reached with his other hand to softly stroke her hair, countered quickly with a third strike of the bible.

Ivy tensed up over his lap, crying out again. “I’m sorry!”

Jamie continued petting her head, now resting his other hand and the book on her back. He leaned down closer to her ear, smiling softly. “Will you be good for me now?”

Ivy took in a shattered breath. “Yes... Yes, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good girl.” Jamie whispered. “Now, sit up…”

Ivy did as she was told, peeling her torso off his lap only to swing her leg over and straddle him once again. She sniffled lightly as she looked at him directly again, eyes still slightly glossy from her punishment. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“To answer your question from before…” He began. “Yes, I am going to fuck you right here under this cross. I am going to show god that you’re mine.”

Before Ivy could respond, his lips were already pressing hungrily into hers. He began to trail down her jaw and on to her neck, suckling hard enough to make sure he would leave his mark. She reached between both of their bodies, undoing the button and zipper of his pants just enough to free his hardened length. She took him in her hand and stroked him slowly, a low groan emanating from his throat. His hot breath against her skin made her already desperate core throb, she felt as though she could combust at any moment.

With his lips still exploring her neck and collarbone, he moved to quickly lower the straps of her dress, letting them fall to her elbows. He tugged at the top hem of the dress, letting her chest reveal itself, spilling out over the fabric. His mouth made quick work of enveloping her nipple in its warmth, drawing out a pleasured sigh from Ivy. She began to grind against his thigh, hoping for some sense of relief.

“Come on, then.” She breathed. “Make me yours. Take me.”

Jamie let out a breathy chuckle, removing her hands from his cock, slipping his hands under her dress and under the elastic of her panties. She rested her wrists on his shoulders, staring down as he pushed the fabric aside, gently pushing her upward to angle his tip at her entrance. She gasped as she sunk down slowly, feeling the stretch of him inside. He let out a groan as Ivy now fully enveloped in, her weight fully back on his lap. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his briefly before closing the gap between their lips. Her hips rocked forward, his hands gripping her hips to help her along. Suddenly, he pulled back.

“Say it, before god, say that you’re mine.” He growled, rocking his hips in rhythm with hers. “I don’t care what you believe in, you’re going to believe in me. Say it.”

“I-I’m yours!” Ivy mewled. “I’m yours.” She fell forward against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, you’re my good girl. My good girl.” He growled again into her neck.

The two of them clung to each other, the space around them filled with their moans and breathing, the aggressive creaking of the wooden chair they were occupying. If the church hadn’t been the only building on its acre of land, someone would have heard them through the open windows.

A gentle breeze made its way through the large hall, raising goosebumps across their sticky, shiny skin, covered in the humid dew of the south. Their movements were in perfect sync, each one locked into the other’s body, as if they were a symbiotic pair; as if they were to lose contact, their bodies would shrivel up and wither away into the wind.

“Look at me.” Jamie whispered. “I want you to look at me as I finish in you. As I claim you.”

Ivy pulled back to look at him, arching her back as she did. “Yes, Jamie…please…let god know I’m yours.” She sighed, digging her nails into his shoulders.

His thrusts became more haphazard, and his grunts frequent. Ivy rolled her hips along with him, the pressure building throughout her core, sensing the euphoria just over the horizon. As if it were a divine purpose, she slipped over the edge just as Jamie spilled out inside her. Ivy fell forward again, burying her face in his neck as she rode out her high, as Jamie wrapped his arms tightly around her. They slowly came to a still, only the sound of their heavy breathing and birds singing outside the church walls filling their ears along with low ringing.

As their senses came back to them, they relaxed their hold on the other. Ivy pulled back from the crook of Jamie’s neck, smoothing her damp hair out of her face. He smiled softly up at her, taking her chin in his hand again, only this time pulling her tenderly toward him to place a gentle kiss to her lips.

“How are you doing, little lamb?” He asked sweetly, his voice no longer gruff and demanding, but kind and warm.

“I’m…feeling saved.” She smiled.

He chuckled lightly as he caressed her cheek. “Oh, is that all it takes?”

Ivy slid herself off his lap, letting him tuck himself back in to his trousers. “You said you’d make a believer out of me. I definitely believe in a lot more than I did before I came here.” She winked.

“Well…you have a few days left here. I can certainly give you a lot more to believe in, darling.” He smirked at her as he stood up, reaching out his hand, silently asking for hers.

Ivy smiled, glancing between his eyes and his hand.

“I’m all yours.”

[affront2god-affectionate]

"Sincerely, whatever"

A fanfic on a fanfic, RE: "The Priest You Want" by @alwaysyourshenry and @the-bats-who-simp . 797 word one shot of David not participating in events XD no warnings, no rating, domestic fluff, David being a grumpy fuck.

“You know what, I don’t give a single flying fuck”, David said, looking at the thick layer of snow growing on his porch. Weather magic was hard enough for him as it was, and with recent debacle he had to handle the Paradiso ecosystem falling apart almost every week, sometimes twice a week. At this point he was determined to let it be.

“Koshka brosila kotyat, pust’ yebutsa kak hotyat”, he mumbled under his nose an old russian rhyme he learned in 1962 on Cuba. Which meant “the cat has abandoned the kittens, let them fucking figure it out themselves”. Or even “let them fuck however they want”, which in this case was becoming more and more literal every day.

Mars has curled up in his cat form near the heater on his favorite fluffy blanket, slightly snoring, the most adorable cat to ever exist. To be honest, a cat form was a good decision for this weather. At least that fur wouldn’t be eaten by cloth moths unlike the fabulous pimp coat David has brought from Miami forty something years ago. A battle with moths was another one he was losing lately. Alas!

He was not exactly honest when saying his reading on Lilith made no sense. It actually made an unnerving amount of sense for him, and the burden of knowledge had told him that it’s none of his business. What was bound to happen, was going to happen, no matter what. In that simple three card reading he saw all the struggle and the horror she was going through, and the inevitability of all that was foretold before David himself was even born, and the fact that it’s actually for the better in the long run.

Reaching through the thick skulls was never a favorite past-time for David. And Jamie’s skull at this point was so thick, there was no brain left. Bone-headed is what he was. “Nope”, David said, looking at the roadmap of the events in the astral plane. Feeling that with this level of being annoyed any attempt on a coversation with Jamie will turn into a fistfight in a matter of seconds, he decided not to engage and spare himself some blood pressure, and focused on the Work instead.

“Shut up and dig, that’s how you reach enlightenment” was his motto of his own invention, a mantra he was saying on repeat multiple times a day for the last two hundred years at least. And it had never let him down. Shut up and dig.

So by the time the snowstorm hit, he already had prepared: a full shed of firewood, a dozen canisters of oil for the generator, forty pounds of potatoes, a crate of canned meat, and four packs of mothballs. He also brought all Mars’s favorite stuff from one cottage to another, so they won’t have to move for a week, at least. He even brought out his largest crocheting patterns,the ones that were too intimidating to do casually.

“I don’t give a single flying fuuuck”, he sang in a sarcastically high-pitched voice, turning his back on the white window and giving the clock a side-eye on his way to the kitchen. Most likely, it will be over in six to eight hours or so, but with everyone being out of their minds it could take a couple more weeks. And he had rituals to perform, and a partner to feed, and many roads cleaned in the village tomorrow. There will be blisters. There will be broken shovels. Most likely he will have to just melt the shit away with a sightly-forbidden quantum physics ritual. But that would be too explicit for the townsfolk, so maybe the shovel it is. Shut up and dig.

The kettle he was filling was actually a gift from Kit, from back when. It was a really good kettle. But it also made him mourn the times when things were normal. When Jamie was not… well, effectively, in fact, a cult leader. “Yeah, sure”, David had said when he first read The Doctrine. And then never payed attention to it ever again. Maybe he should have. But also – let them kittens fuck themselves. No one is fucking working in this houshold.

From his kitchen window David saw a snow penis being erected in his yard. Well, at least Kit is having fun in this weather. The shape was quite nice, too. “Never knew our word artist can sculpt too”, he thought. “Maybe we should buy him some play-dough”.

David knocked on the window and swayed the hot kettle around suggestively. The dick-buliding stopped and his antique china tea set has clanked behind his back.

“If you break it you steal me a new one”, David said, pouring a couple of hot ones.

[secretly-sirens]

Heading to my Japanese university feeling like an anime character with my theme song playing.

Please go stream my bestie's album, Baby Teeth! They're rebranding soon and I'm so excited!

Go follow my awesome bestie at @virgo-moonlight and @jcbbby!

[moonlitdark]

💌⭐️ Send this to your emotional support mutuals, who make your day brighter ⭐️💌

Frank, at this point you are like family to me! ❤️ @al-ghoul

[al-ghoul]

Happy Valentine's Day ❤️🩷💜 Dropping something special in your inbox since adulthood is boring and this type of thing died in elementary school. Have a wonderful day :)

Yaay, thank you! 🫡

I hope @secretly-sirens won't get jealous 😂 /jk

Everyone in the coven is very special to me. 🫶

[the-bats-who-simp]

Blood-Hair and Sin

-A Bat Coven LLC Production-

Written by: @the-bats-who-simp

Summary: Vivian Peterson has been raised by her hyper-religious parents under the belief that she's some type of sin and scourn of the family. They work her harder to make up for it. Although, at some point, a breaking point has to be hit.

Warnings: Religious trauma, abuse, child abuse, burns, brief nudity, very light sexual content, brothels, prostitution, witches.

◇◇◇

"Viv, I'm serious, you have to get out of that house before it literally kills you, or worse." Samuel pressed again, leaning against the Ms. Pac-Man arcade cabinet Vivian was engrossed in. Her eyes darted around the screen, following the round yellow game sprite as it moved around the maze, eating little pellets while outsmarting the little ghosts. Ms. Pac-Man ate the last white dot on the maze before a fresh round of pellets greeted her for the fourth time.

"Samuel, if you keep distracting me, I'll fail before I'm even close to beating this score and you'll embarass me in front of everyone." She replied, not meeting his gaze. Even blinded by the arcade's flashing lights, her peripheral vision saw her friend's blatant eye roll.

"More than that "Little House on the Prairie" dress you have on? That's more embarassing than sporting a six thousand score. You already have the top two spots on this cabinet, you don't need to prove anything." Samuel protested. Vivian jerked the joystick and ran directly into a freshly reactivated Blinky, ending her run with a pathetic electronic whine. Vivian sighed, looking directly at Samuel with a peeved expression.

"Were you even listening to me?" He asked her, his blue eyes boring into her brown ones. Vivian held out a hand, palm up, refusing to dignify him with a response before he compensated her for the loss. Samuel sighed, reaching into his pocket and passing her another of his quarters. She inserted it into the cabinet's coin slot, starting up a fresh round.

"I was listening, by the way, and I don't want to hear it. I have nowhere I could go if I was to run away, or worse get thrown out." Vivian said, her eyes moving around the maze again with practiced concentration.

"You could come with me and we can split our quarters on some McNuggets or something."

"I know nothing about where you live or with whom. For all I know you're trying to lure me away to your hellhole of a house infested with rats and used needles."

"Ouch, Viv. I thought you knew me better than that." Samuel quipped back, earning an eye roll from Vivian.

"And, for the record, my father has a suspiciously keen sense of smell when it comes to fast food. Do you remember when we split that burger a couple months ago?"

"Yeah?"

Vivian just shot Samuel a look, a sad smirk on her face before returning her eyes to the arcade cabinet. Samuel just nodded, watching Vivian finish the round, a new set of pellets illuminating her face. Round cheeks, brown eyes framed by long eyelashes, her lips a perfect dusty rose color, none of which was touched by makeup. Her most discernable feature was, of course, being her bright red tresses cascading down her back, a perfect match to freshly spilled blood.

Vivian's mother harshly straightened it every morning, even the smallest of waves that appeared in it upset her. Vivian accepted it as a way of life, Samuel wondered if it had anything to do with her parents' stick straight hair (had her father grown it out beyond a crop, that is). He never voiced this to her in depth; even if he did, Vivian's understanding of genetics was slim.

"What time is it?" She asked after a while, finishing her third round. Samuel glanced at his watch, pursing his lips.

"Five-oh-three?"

"FUCK!" Vivian swore, once again jerking her joystick harshly, earning her another electronic whine.

"What?" Samuel asked. "We usually stay out for a little longer. Isn't dinner for you at six-thirty?"

"Yeah, but I need to grocery shop, too. I wanted to be at the store by five." Vivian abandoned the machine and grabbed Samuel by his shirt sleeve, running out of the front of the arcade.

"Viv, relax, it's okay, I'll come help, just tell me what you need." Samuel replied, speedwalking next to Vivian. She wasn't much of a runner, both because it made her cough and because she didn't want to get her clothes sweaty.

"Okay, okay, uh... for dinner itself, I need chicken, asparagus, potatoes, I think we need more lemon pepper, too... Peanut butter, the Planters brand, smooth and don't you dare even touch the Peter Pan brand--"

"What do you have against Peter Pan?"

"Nothing, but Peter Pan's a magical boy in a magical land."

"Right... and I thought you liked crunchy peanut butter?"

"I do, but Joseph doesn't and he throws a fit if he doesn't get smooth... God, I never get what I want for food."

The pair burst through the doors of the local general store at about five-sixteen. Vivian grabbed a basket at the same time Samuel did, darting off in different directions of the shop.

Plain Cheerios, one-percent milk-- not two-percent, a block of cheddar cheese, frozen peas and carrots, spaghetti, we still have a jar of tomato sauce at home, don't touch the candy-- you haven't done anything to deserve sweets, you never do, Father needs his toothpaste-- mint, not wintergreen, the freshest beef for the lowest price, broccoli, green beans, and white bread on top-- Father can't stand squished bread.

Vivian and Samuel met back at the till, only slightly out of breath. She roamed her eyes over the selection Samuel had picked out, eyeing the chicken breasts in particular.

"Was that the lowest price?" She asked skeptically.

"By thirteen cents." Samuel replied.

"Chicken gets more expensive by the week." Vivian sighed, passing the baskets to the worker and pulling out her coin purse, praying she had enough. "Good luck to me to explain that to Father..."

Vivian handed over the money as the cashier handed her back her brown paper sacks of groceries and her change, two dollars and fourteen cents. She bid him goodbye and wordlessly nodded to Samuel, parting ways as the sun started to sink behind the distant mountains. It cast a nice orange glow on the surrounding area. Vivian knew, on the other hand, the longer her shadow grew, the less time she had before she had to be home. Hopefully her dinner with her two dollar and extra offering would be enough to please her parents for the night, even if she was cutting it close.

Don't be silly. It's never enough.

The house wasn't very big. It was all one story with a slanted roof, giving the illusion of a second story. Living room, kitchen, dining room, one and a half bathrooms, and three bedrooms. Viv supposed she could count herself lucky that she got one room to herself. Her parents didn't want her sharing with her brothers and her older sister had married and moved out years ago.

Vivian took in a deep breath before pushing the front door open, struggling with her bags while trying to get her shoes off. No dirt should be tracked in. Using her toes, she delicately placed them perfectly in their designated spot and moved through the living room to the kitchen. She set the sacks down and started pulling things out, setting aside the ingredients for dinner near the stove. Her eye caught the price label on the plastic covering the chicken again, silently groaning over the slightly higher than usual price.

"You're a bit later than usual." Vivian's mother said deceptively calmly, sliding into the kitchen. Angela's dark brown hair was tied in a tight bun at the base of her head, very faint gray streaks shooting through it. Vivian had tried buns for a while, trying to avoid the straightener, but her hair always fell out soon after.

"Register was having trouble." Vivian lied evenly through her teeth, carefully moving the bread to the breadbox as if transporting crown jewels.

"Your hair didn't hold as well today." Angela said, her eyes flicking up and down. What had started the morning as straight sticks had turned into waves, the hairs near the top of her head full on curls. Vivian swore silently, knowing sweat and running was the cause. Well respecting ladies don't run, they don't get sticky. She instead shrugged.

"It comes loose sometimes. You know how it goes." Vivian replied, reaching for her coin purse and passing it to her mother. "Two-fourteen. Prices climbed a bit more today."

Angela took the coin purse silently and left the kicthen soon after. Vivian exhaled and went to preheat the oven before washing her hands. She never really understood why her parents held her in such contempt in particular. They were lenient with the boys and Rebecca wasn't treated nearly as cooly. Though, then again, Rebecca didn't--

Vivian shoved the thought away, rubbing at her arm before grabbing a knife to free the chicken from its packaging.

***

Mashing potatoes by hand always left Vivian with a strong cramp below her right thumb, but she never dared voice it. Everyone took their potatoes with butter except for Joseph, her youngest brother, he took his plain. Angela liked pepper on hers, her father liked garlic. Vivian chose garlic, butter, salt, and cheese. Isaac always jeered her for adding cheese. Vivian always ignored it.

Vivian had made it a habit to eat quickly so she would be the first one done. She was expected to take dishes to the kitchen and wash them as soon as someone was done, regardless if she was finished eating or not. Her food would always be cold by the time she wss able to get back to it. "A wife must drop everything to please her husband," her parents would say. Vivian knew better than to bite back with something sarcastic.

Vivian's oldest brother, David, was the last to finish, so she grabbed his plate the second he ate his last bite, hardly giving her a thank you for the service or complimenting her cooking. David left and before Viv could return to the kitchen to clean it, her father stopped her.

"Vivian, come to the living room once you're done." Silas said tonelessly.

"Yes, sir." Vivian replied, skittering to the kitchen with a racing heart. Odds were good that she was about to be reprimanded, and odds were even better that she'd go to bed crying because of it. Still, it was better to not keep her parents waiting, so she couldn't even take her time with the washing. The sponge still shook in her grasp.

Vivian put the plate on the rack and moved to the living room, finding her parents standing in front of her father's sitting chair. It was one of the nicest things in the house, leather with a nice knitted blanket over the armrest. Viv knew it as the chair she sat in when she was going to get chewed out, as did the other Peterson children. Her parents' logic was that they wouldn't want to sit in Silas' big comfy chair if they associated it with being punished.

Vivian sat in it graciously, her posture perfect and a neutral expression on her face, looking at her parents expectantly.

"I assume you know what this is about?" Silas asked. Vivian swallowed.

"I promise, that was the cheapest chicken by thirteen cents." She blurted.

"Yes, because that store owner is a damned crook. But that's not what this is about."

"It's not?" Vivian blinked. If it wasn't the chicken, then it was only going to get worse. That would have been her getting off easy.

"No. Your mother noticed your hair was stringy and the sweat stains on your dress. It only got to sixty-three degrees today."

"Yes, sir."

"You ran home, didn't you? Because the register was having trouble?"

There was no point in denying it. "Yes, sir."

Silas' lips flattened and curled up slightly. More dangerous of a sign than a poisonous bug flashing their colors to ward off predators.

"How many times must you be told to not lie? I'll give you exactly one chance to correct yourself." He said thinly. Vivian began to sweat.

"I...I lost track of time."

"Why did you tell your mother that it was the register? Someone else's fault?"

"Because... because..."

"Because you were at the arcade again. With that boy we said you couldn't see." Silas spat. Vivian went from sweating to freezing, a chill pumping through her veins that made her heart pound faster than a jackrabbit.

"I-I-I..."

"Entering a place of sin, frivolity, let alone with a boy we forbade you from talking to. Vivian Eve Peterson, what do you even have to say for yourself?" Angela snapped.

"What problem do you even have with Samuel? He's the only person who's ever nice to me." Vivian replied before she could stop herself.

"Because he just waltzed into your life one day and tempts you to do sinful things. How can we even be sure he hasn't desicrated you?"

A shot of anger ran through Vivian, emboldening her. "He has not, I'm still pure. But it's just an arcade, it's not like he takes me to whorehouses."

Silas' eye twitched. "Those places are distractions and full of sin. Shallow, superficial lies, deviations from the word of the Lord, full of gambling, violence, magic, and countless other things."

Vivian had no idea where her courage was coming from.

"Who are you to condemn violence when you beat us raw whenever we disobey?" Vivian hissed, standing up out of the chair. She could see her father getting angrier and she felt a strange satisfaction in it. She continued. "And of course the one time someone is nice to me and doesn't see me as the weird religious girl everyone else does, you forbid me from seeing him. You're setting me up for failure."

"What makes you think you deserve kindness, girl?" Silas spat in her face. Vivian hardly flinched.

"Because it's not my fault you treat me like shit. I was born and you immediately wrote me off as an affront to God. The only reason Joseph exists is because you couldn't let your last child be such a sinful creature. What the fuck made you think your newborn daughter was a crime??" Vivian yelled, pulling out swear words she would have been slapped for on a normal day.

"Your mother believed she saw an angel before you were born, promised you would turn out good if we named you Vivian. It was a false prophet and your hair turned that hideous shade, a sign of your sin." Silas snapped.

"My sin?? How was that my fault? It was Mother's vision and you went along with it. That was your decision that you're punishing me for. Do you realize how fucking insane you sound?"

"Your mother took it as a sign she was forgiven. You're the production of sin. Your mother broke her vows and slept with someone else to get you. You're an unclean child I only allowed in my house because we wanted to keep you from being seduced by Satan. It was our obligation."

Vivian didn't seem as blindsided by the news as one might have expected. Instead, she grinned up at Silas. "You abused and fucked up a child just because of a mistake your wife made. No, you know what, I'm glad she did. That way, my father's not some abusive, narcissistic piece of shit!"

Silas was at that point where he was so beyond angry, he seemed calm. He held out his hand and Angela produced a small bottle, passing it to him. Vivian's eyes widened, suddenly realizing how far over the line she lept. Her brothers and Rebecca had often had the belt as their punishment, maybe some flown fists if they were bad enough. Vivian on the other hand was privy to a special punishment, one her siblings couldn't receive in the same way.

"We do have other ways of proving your sinful ways, girl." Silas said, almost too calmly. He uncorked the bottle of clear liquid and poured some in his hand, a small puddle resting in his palm. Then, he threw it right at Viv.

All poor Vivian could do was scream, feeling the white hot burns splash onto her face. She was lucky it didn't hit her eyes; she went blind in her right eye for a week once. Silas grabbed Vivian by the arm and yanked her dress sleeve so it tore off at the seams. He held her wrist tightly before pouring more of the liquid on her arm. Vivian let out an even louder wail, so loud her voice broke before she took a breath to scream louder. An angry red burn ran down her arm, perfectly matching the shape the holy water had taken when being dripped onto her skin.

"You screamed when you were baptized. One dunk and you wailed louder than you did when you were born. Red as the little devil baby you are."

Vivian sobbed, trying to wrench her arm free from Silas' grasp, begging for it to stop. All he did was pour again, further aggrivating the wound and making Viv's vision go blurry from pain.

"Stop, please! Momma, make him stop!" She sobbed. Angela didn't give a single sound of reply, just watching from behind her husband. Silas then poured the last of the holy water on Vivian's arm, making sure to splash a few more drops on her face to produce more angry welts.

Vivian finally screamed so loud and so potently. The lights in the house flickered and the walls shook, knocking the portrait of Jesus off the wall and causing the glass to shatter. The crosses hung around flew off their mounts, clattering to the ground nearby.

Vivian felt the grip on her arm completely loosten, and she ran for the front door, seeing her parents cowering together as the walls continued to shake. Viv had no idea what she had done, she knew this was her doing, but she felt... proud of herself, empowered almost. Over the roar of the trembling foundation and flickering lights, she yelled.

"If you think of me as a sin, then think of me as a fucking sin. I'm much happier being a devil than whatever box you tried to forge for me through abuse. If I ever fucking see either of you again, I'll do much worse, I assure you."

Vivian threw the door open and ran into the night, leaving the now stilled house behind her.

***

Vivian hadn't exactly thought that far ahead when she ran. She was proud of herself, finally able to breathe for the first time in twenty years. At the same time, all she had on her was a torn dress, socks... and one special item. Guided by the light of the full moon, she sat behind the arcade, closed and locked for the night. She reached into her bra and pulled out a tiny wooden jar labeled in Samuel's oddly clean handwriting: "Burn Cream."

Vivian's burns couldn't be treated with the usual creams the stores sold, so one day Samuel came to her with a special blend he'd created that cleared the wounds up pretty quickly. Burns could happen anytime, so she always kept a jar of it on her person just in case. Before that, they always took weeks to heal and Viv hated constantly having to say they were cooking burns. Nobody ever believed her, but nobody ever pried, either.

She scooped a little of the cream onto her finger and spread it over her arm, the slight sting making her seethe. She applied the rest on her finger to her face, making the welts vanish within a few minutes. Her arm, on the other hand, would probably take a full day to heal.

She took the time to process and try to figure out her next move. Finding out she was the product of adultery should probably have shaken her more than it actually did.

In reality, she almost felt relieved. She didn't have a psychopath as a biological father. It made her curious, wondering what man could have possibly charmed Angela Peterson away from her husband. No wonder her mother's eyes got shifty when sermons would focus on remaining faithful.

The angel was interesting. Vivian wasn't honestly fully convinced of a higher power, but clearly something had visited her mother and had the power to change Vivian's hair color just from giving her the name. It could have been a lie, but nobody's hair could have grown that particular shade of red naturally. Vivian felt proud of her blood red hair, especially now that she knew why it was such a shame to her parents. The straightening made sense now, too. Curly hair wasn't a trait seen in any of her family members. Clearly her mother wanted to try and pass Vivian off as less of a great shame.

All in all, Vivian was quite happy with herself and her decision to run away. She wasn't sure what to make of the house shaking, but it made her curious. Maybe there was something more to her than she thought.

In the meantime, though, Vivian had no money and nowhere to stay. She supposed she could try and track Samuel down, but she had no idea where to start, and word might get out quickly about what happened. Most people would slam the door in her face when asked if they would help at best. Vivian shuddered thinking of the worst. No, she had to flee town, quickly. She'd be leaving Samuel, sure, and it pained her, but he'd probably be better off without her. God only knows he might be forced to cut her off anyways.

Thinking of Samuel reminded her of a conversation they'd once had. Rumors of the old building next to the laundromat with a basement. Password protected. A secret sex speakeasy of sorts, different than most brothels since this one allowed for same sex mingling. Vivian had called Samuel crazy for believing it, but after paying closer attention to the building and the people going near it, it didn't seem so far-fetched. She wouldn't ever admit to Samuel that he was right, though. She hated "I told you so's."

Finding a brothel and... what, working at it? An ultimate sin, selling your body for pleasure, let alone for other women to touch. Vivian's literacy in sex was limited, but what she did know was that asking if it was normal to want to kiss girls had gotten her slapped silly, yet it didn't disuade the thoughts, far from it. Second, she found that the thought excited her. Working in a pleasure house, it made her stomach flutter and her lower regions tingle. Besides... she needed the money and she had no other way to find employment. What a shame.

Vivian dusted off her skirt and slunk behind buildings, paying close attention to the streets and surrounding areas. By now it was probably close to midnight, yet Vivian was the furthest thing from tired. Even after resting, her adrenaline was still pumping.

Forty minutes later, she rounded the back of the laundromat and found her destination. A brick building, two stories high with one singular window blacked out by paint or a curtain. The sign above it advertised as being a secondary entrance for the laundromat, but please use the main entrance.

Vivian studied the door, looking somewhat normal save for a mail slot being close to eye level for her. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door.

The supposed mail slot slid open from the side and a pair of green eyes greeted her, looking her up and down curiously.

"Yes?" A voice asked her. No turning back now.

"I-I... My name is Vivian and I'm... interested in employment... here?" She replied. The eyes narrowed.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty... I've been thrown out of the house and I don't have any means of supporting myself or other options." She said. The eyes looked at her for a moment before the slot slid shut and the door unlocked with a click. Vivian slid inside, finding herself in front of a larger man with a broad build. Handsome, if a little scruffy.

The space was small, mostly consisting of a stool the man likely sat on and a stairwell leading to another door, well lit. She could hear faint sounds coming from the other side. Talking, music, perhaps... moaning? Vivian's pulse quickened again.

"Miss Jenevelle is who you need to talk to. Down the stairs, to your left, door's hard to miss, 's got lilies on it." The man told her. Vivian nodded.

"Th-thank you." She said, running down the stairs and pulling the heavy wooden door open. Immediately all her senses were assaulted. Dim yellow lights illuminated everything, music played from unseen speakers that Vivian could almost feel in her chest. It smelled of perfumes and sweat, and people mingled and chattered with each other. Her eyes flicked around, seeing nearly naked women in red lacy underwear either clinging to poles, dancing sensually, or getting close with patrons. Vivian saw one with blonde hair and brown eyes sit in a ginger woman's lap, licking the side of her face as she guided the woman's hands to her barely covered breasts. The display sent an explosion of feeling in Vivian's core, excitement and... perhaps arousal? She saw a few mostly naked men here and there, wearing red underwear that left little to the imagination. She blushed, turning left and quickly locating the door decorated with lilies.

A woman with dark hair in two braided buns on top of her head sat at a desk, writing on some papers and mumbling to herself. The office wasn't overly decorated, about as bright as the rest of the brothel with plants and a stack of vinyl records on a shelf. The player sat next to it, a record of what Viv somewhat recognized as Phil Collins played. The woman looked up at her, wearing a thin yet warm smile.

"Can I help you, sweetheart?" She asked.

"I-I... I'm Vivian, your... doorman let me in." Vivian stuttered.

"What a pretty name. I'm Miss Jenevelle, I run this place. You must have had a good reason for Damon to let you in." Vivian blushed at the compliment.

"W-well... I've just been thrown out of the house. My parents are... very religious, you see, and I... it's complicated. But I have no way to support myself and no connections... a friend of mine mentioned this place and I was hoping to... seek employment?"

Jenevelle chuckled, standing up. "Quite the leap for you, I see. You're of age, I assume?"

"Twenty as of April."

"This is truly a last resort for you?"

"I don't know where my friend lives and I'd suspect he'd be forced to distance himself from me. It's a small community and my parents have labeled me as a sin, demon spawn..." Vivian's eyes turned down to her still healing arm. Jenevelle seemed to notice, but didn't push the issue. She seemed to understand the whole story then and there.

"I assume you're... untrained in this type of work?"

"I'm a virgin if that's what you're asking. Although I've... heard little bits and pieces. I-I like men, but I find myself more drawn to... women..."

"I figured as much. Most places wouldn't offer that option, so you had to come here."

"Sure."

"You do realize what this line of work entails, right? It's not as glamorous as you may think. Things can happen and I can only protect you from so much of it."

"I know. But I figured this would be better than most of those other places. I just need some... training and then I'll do whatever I need to do."

"Right." Jenevelle pulled out a tape measure from her pocket. "Dress off, please."

Vivian blushed and undid the buttons of her dress, sliding out of it and letting it pool around her ankles. Her underwear was entirely unremarkable, almost embarassing. Jenevelle started taking measurements around various parts of Vivian, waist, torso, thighs, bust (Vivian felt butterflies again at that point), shoulders, neck, among other places.

"No hesistation, huh?"

"No use hesitating in a place like this."

Jenevelle smiled, putting the tape measure away. "Would you need lodgings?"

"Please."

"Any allergies?"

"No... but tomatoes make me squirm."

"Squirm?"

"It's a texture thing." Vivian whispered sheepishly. Jenevelle chuckled.

"I can't handle bananas, it's fine. Any perfumes you like?"

"I never had any, but I like vanilla, lavender, and the smells of a campfire. Wood, fire, smoke... Cigarette smoke is nice, too, although I don't... smoke..."

"I'll see what I can find, maybe I'll let you sample some I have and see what you like. I assume you don't know how to do makeup, so I'll have someone else do it for you." Jenevelle paused, inspecting Vivian's face. "Although you do look pretty without it already, especially with that beautiful hair of yours."

Vivian blushed hard enough that it could have matched her hair.

"I can already tell you'll be a favorite here. Now, you have a smaller bust but wider hips and shoulders, so I'll give you this for now." She passed Vivian a set of red underwear identical to the ones the girls wore outside. It was lacy, decorated with roses and shiny from the satin material underneath. Jenevelle also passed Vivian a red satin robe that went to her knees.

"Go ahead and get changed, sweetheart. Do you want me to turn around?"

"N-no... it's okay. I'll have to get used to this at some point."

"Good girl." Jenevelle purred, making Vivian blush even harder, making her feel even more fluttery and made her lower area even more tingly. As if on autopilot, Vivian stripped out of her underwear and slid the lacy red set on. The cups were slightly too big, but it was comfortable otherwise. Very comfortable. Vivian almost felt even more confident in it, perhaps spiced by a lingering feeling of shame knowing the list of sins she'd comitted in the last ten minutes alone.

She didn't find herself caring anymore.

Vivian slid the robe on and tied it closed, picking up her old clothes and unceremoniously tossing them in the trash by Jenevelle's desk. They spilled over the edge, but neither cared. Jenevelle rested her hand on the small of Vivian's back and guided her back to the office door.

The crowd seemed as lively as ever, the music still beating and the smell only growing thicker. Viv wasn't sure where exactly Jenevelle was taking her, but she did catch a few peoples' eyes as she passed. Two men eyed her with small smirks, three women watched similarly. One of them Viv was close enough to hear call her a pretty little fox. Vivian blushed at the praise, staying close to Jenevelle while hiding her smile. The attention, she liked it. Far more than she expected. She was never considered anything close to cute, let alone pretty or beautiful. She could get drunk on this feeling, she was sure of it.

Jenevelle sat Vivian down in a booth similar to that of a restaurant in tbe back corner, a smile on her face.

"See? Favorite. Let me go get a few things and then introduce you to the other girls." She said, kissing Vivian's forehead and blending back into the crowd. Vivian blushed, observing the crowd eagerly as the fluttery feeling refused to go away. She sighed contentedly, leaning back against the booth's seat.

"Charming place." A new voice said, feminine. Vivian opened her eyes and looked to her right. She was greeted by a pretty young woman with pale skin, glasses, tattoos, and pale purple hair. Viv's heart started thudding again.

"I-I'm... I..."

"It's all right, sweetling, I'm not expecting any services. You're new here."

"Do you come here often?" Vivian asked.

"No. This is my first time. It's a shame, though, I'm sure the others would love it here. Especially Kit."

"Others?"

The purple haired woman smiled. "Vivian, do you believe in witches?"

"You know my name?"

"Yes, and I know you've recently been kicked out of the house after a last straw incident with your hyper religious and controlling parents. You made the house shake and the lights flicker. It was practically a beacon you set off." The fluttering stopped, replaced with disbelief mixed with curiosity.

"How did you know about that?"

"Like I said, that was practically a beacon you shot out. We'd heard that the last witch had been born and we've been waiting for the right time to come and find you."

"Witch? We? What are you talking about?"

"You, Vivian, are a witch. The last of the seven witches in our coven. We live in a village called Paradiso, protecting this world from demons and other dark forces. My name is Nora, and I've been tasked to find you, as I was the others."

"Miss, have you had too much to drink?" Vivian asked, concerned. Nora just laughed.

"No, I promise. I know this sounds insane. It sounded insane to me, too, at first. I was the first witch to be found all the way back in the 1400s."

"You don't look a day over twenty-five."

"We're immortal. So, too, will you be. Vivian, shaking the house was only a fraction of your potential, and so potent so soon, too."

"Are... are you asking me to just drop everything and go with a total stranger to a witch coven several states away?" Vivian asked.

"You have nothing to your name, Vivian. As charming as it would be to be in this line of work, it's not for you. You have potential for greater. Something more than you ever expected to be. Just... please, at least allow me to explain to you on the way there. It's a long journey and it's more comfortable than in here."

Vivian pondered the strange woman, Nora, for a moment. She was by far the most unique woman she'd ever met. In looks and her knowledge. Vivian's outburst was something she was willing to take to her grave, not take as a sign of latent witchcraft abilities...

Then memories started to flicker in her mind. Mixing things like flowers and lotions in bowls, trying to bring home pets she found in the park, mumbling incoherent things that just... came to her. Vivian was punished for these things, of course, but even despite that, she continued to do it.

And, truthfully, she trusted Nora. More than she trusted Jenevelle, certainly. The warmth in her chest here was different than the adrenaline and excitement from earlier. Nora made her feel at ease, calm, like she'd found a missing piece.

And, really, it sounded like fun. Worth a shot; she'e be no worse off than if Nora was lying. Vivian suspected she wasn't, though.

"Miss Jenevelle will be back soon. We'd better go." She said. Nora offered Vivian her hand, which she took eagerly. She felt a spark at the contact, beyond normal static electricity. Vivian smiled as Nora pulled her out of the seat and through the crowd. Out the door, up the stairs (Damon didn't even seem to notice them), and into the abyss of night, guided by the full moon.

[secretly-sirens]

Love all bats. They're unique and beautiful in their own ways.

[affront2god-affectionate]

So, the fandom calls the guy Baptiste, imdb lists him as Babtiste, wikipedia lists him as Babiaste.

To address this situation, we in this here company held a meeting and proposed the following alternatives (in the order of admission) :

(s) Alexander Bingbong (f) Alexander Barbenheimer (a) Alexander Baddaddy (s) Alexander Bangbang (m) Alexander Beguiler (s) Alexander Baguette (m) Alexander Bon Appetit (m) Alexander Boutique (m) Alexander Boulevard (m) Alexander Boutiliers (m) Alexander Bouillabaisse (m) Alexander Boutonnière (m) Alexander A Baby (this one was from autocorrect) (n) Alexander Baklava (f) Alexander Balaclava (n) Alexander Big Booty Bitches (s) Alexander Banana (n) Alexander BOY HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND CAUSE I'LL HELP YOU FIND IT (a) Alexander Bodyslam (a) Alexander Benefactor (a) Alexander Bat lover (aka us) (s) Alexander Batman (n) Alexander Boytoy (n) Alexander Babadook (f) Alexander Baba-Yaga (s) Alexander Badminton (s) Alexander Bamilton (s) Alexander Baddydaddy (f) Alexander Bumcheeks (a) Alexander Become My Baby Daddy (n) Alexander Bussy (s) Alexander Bonk Go to Horny Jail (a) Alexander But What If I Don't Want To Go To Horny Jail (s) Alexander Ash is Being a Brat (a) Alexander Brat Tamer (s) Alexander Be a Good Boy/Girl (n) Alexander Bitchslap (a) Alexander Blow My Back Out

Credits go to: (s) @secretly-sirens, (f) @affront2god-affectionate, (a) @bowersbubbles, (m) @moonlitdark, (n) @nebulousfishgills

[secretly-sirens]

To my mutuals,

I love you.

Reblog if you think it’s okay to platonically say “I Love You” to your friends

[secretly-sirens]

Birthday party with my mutuals!!!

[moonlitdark]

💌⭐️ Send this to your emotional support mutuals, who make your day brighter ⭐️💌

You are a beautiful person, and I'm so glad to know you! 🫶 @secretly-sirens

[secretly-sirens]

Hex? Hexing time? Tiny hex?

me, whenever my friend experiences the most minor inconvenience or slight: kill? I kill them? I kill for you? kill? yes? murder? kill? bite? kill?

[al-ghoul]

Hi, Frank!

Stopping by to say you're a badass and I hecking love you, friendo!

Heeeeey, back at you, friend! <3 Stay strong!