Chapter Text
Glisten was a very good demon of lust. He was very good at the art of seducing, perfect at it.
He’d be better at it lately if there weren't so many demon hunters these days. It felt like every single one of them was on his tail.
Thank goodness they were so easy. Half the time Glisten could simply seduce them and strip them of their souls for himself.
Still, for every soul he took, it felt like there were double the hunters, Glisten swore ( to Hell ) they were multiplying!
As entertaining and occasionally useful as the hunters could be, it was starting to get dangerous.
Still - regardless - Glisten needs to take souls.
And where is the best place to take souls but a dishevelled old bar?
Glisten shivered off the cold on his skin as he walked in, a bell jingling lightly above him to announce his entrance.
He is immediately met by the warmth of a half-active, half-dying fireplace that warms him to his bones. It feels delicious.
Glisten takes the time to observe for any potential prey or danger. There are few in the little bar, which makes it more difficult to find anyone, let alone draw them away without being spotted.
The old wooden floorboards creak under his feet with every step, like he just trampled over an elk. One of the customers eyes him tiredly from his seat, a glass of whiskey in his palm.
Good enough, Glisten thinks. Even if he can’t draw him into seduction, he can at the very least pull out some information about this town.
“Hello,” he greets, striking up conversations was perhaps the easiest step to capture souls, Glisten was absolutely perfect at small talk. “My isn’t nearly as busy as I thought it’d be,” as I hoped it’d be.
The customer shook his head, tearing away his gaze. “I’m discovering this town isn’t exactly alcohol-adoring,” he replied, moving to start swirling his drink lazily in his glass. The golden liquor washed over itself like a slow river.
“Ah. You’re new here too,” Glisten giggled. That was great for him. It meant no one would notice - or care - if he went “ missing ”. “That’s good, I was worried I’d be like a black sheep in this town,” more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but sure, same thing, right? “My name is Glisten,”
“Rodger,” he hummed. Sighing as he resigns to completely submit the conversation. Turning back to Glisten with now full attention. “What brings you here,”
Now, the easiest way to be convincing is to be true. Glisten learned that a long time ago. Glisten also learned to have a single story unless he was caught.
He’s had the same one for a while now - he’s a travelling tailor, venturing for a wedding to fix up a wedding dress. On the way, he spends a few weeks in whatever village or countryside he lands on for a break because he’s travelled so much and whatnot.
So. He said just that.
“I’m a tailor, heading up for a wedding North, the brides got a traditional dress passed down and whatnot, but it has a few holes here and there. I’m going up to fix it, but I’m a bit early, so I’m going to spend a few weeks here to relax and replenish supplies.” He smiled. He had a very convincing act by now, he was sure it was perfect. “How about you?”
“You won’t believe me,” he sighed, shaking his head solemnly. “But I’m a demon hunter.”
Ahahah…
What. The. Fuck.
Naturally, Glisten tensed up.
Was he after him? Should he be worried? Glisten knew he made an extra cover with that spell that hid him - and thank goodness he did - but it didn’t exactly calm his nerves to be sitting right there, in front of a hunter.
Also, Glisten needed to cover up why he suddenly got so alert and anxious. Quick
“Is there a demon here? Should I be worried?” He blurted out. Huh. Not a bad question when he was in mid-panic mode.
Rodger blinked in surprise at Glisten believing him, fixing his horrible posture to sit more upright. “I suspect so,” he said. “Or, at least, I have reason to suspect so,”
Reason to support so.
Could he tell?
Did he have intuition on his side?
Glisten had to force his body to relax. Make it obvious. Just a humble travelling tailor, nothing more nothing less.
“You believe me?” Rodger asked carefully.
“Ah, well,” Glisten tensed again. This time he couldn’t hide it.
Hopefully, he already got on the hunter's good side. Hopefully, he wouldn’t raise alarm bells.
“As a traveller, you have to be careful of everything, no?”
Rodger took the bait, nodding carefully, a sheep walking willingly by the wolf’s side, mistaking it for their sheepdog. Sheep was an understatement - he was more like a ram.
Sure, Glisten had the advantage , but Rodger wasn’t without his ability to defend himself if it came to it.
“Sir, your milkshake,” sighed the grumpy-looking server. The name Shrimpo was sloppily scribbled on a piece of paper clipped to his chest, with capital letters in random places and one letter never remaining in the same font.
“Thank you,” Rodger smiled.
“You drink… milkshakes with your whiskey…?” Glisten asked, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t judging- no. No ,actually he was. He was judging.
PRodger laughed at that. A genuine laugh. He had a deep, raspy voice, and his belly puffed up like a bird trying to prove how big they were when he did so. “No, no, of course not, this is for my assistant, wherever she is,”
Rodger started to look around for whoever his assistant was. Eyes trickling around the dusty broken-down bar. Glisten quickly realised they were now the only people there, since the server snuck off to the back of the shop, hidden by a curtain as he did whatever.
As if on cue, the side of his cloak was tugged by a pair of tiny hands, a small girl hiding behind him. In her arms resides a small plush toy of a small black dog with white spots dabbled across its fur.
“Oh!” Glisten said. “ Oh… ”
A child. Probably his child. Fuck. Glisten didn’t harm kids. It was against his morals. Because, yes, he, a soul-capturing demon, did have morals.
There was a sinking feeling in his gut. The kind that felt like he was a bottomless pit where every ounce of shame and guilt could be poured into like some kind of dump.
“Hello, little one,” he said.
Suddenly. Her shyness seemed to fade. Fade was the wrong term, more like she had just been hit by a wave twice her size.
Honestly, Glisten hadn’t just seen her shyness; he wouldn't have believed anyone, not a single soul, that this was the same kid.
“My name is Toodles! I like hunting demons! Do you know what a demon is? Have you seen a demon? Ooo, milkshakes! I like milkshakes too, and pancakes. Pancakes are my favourite, but I still really like milkshakes. Do you like milkshakes? Oh, I like the shiny stuff on your eyes!”
Rodger sighed loudly, trying to hush her billions of questions. Glisten didn’t mind though. He crouched to the kid to meet her height. “It's makeup, I can give you some if you’d like,”
Her eyes widened and twinkled like it was the stars above themselves. Honestly, those eyes could be the key to unlocking the world and everything that inhabited it if it contained a thought, which it didn’t appear to do.
“Rodger, may I, may I!” It sounded more like a demand, especially as she tugged aggressively on his clothes. He rolled his eyes- er - eye.
“Erm, not right now, maybe later,” he said gently. “We have to find the incubus, remember? Now, hurry up with your milkshake and leave the poor man alone.”
Well. That was awkward. Oh well.
Toodles, now with her mouthful, was once again quiet. The whole empty pub was quiet. Rodger and Glisten didn’t keep on with their small talk.
Glisten just fiddled with the bow around his waist to distract himself. His signature, pink. The edges of the silk were starting to fret, yet he kept wearing it.
“I’m afraid we shall be off then,” Rodger said as Toodles finished with a loud slurp. Both disturbed the silence, not that Glisten minded, it was awkward, most certainly. “If you ever get new information, or simply feel alarmed, don’t be afraid to call me, I’ll assist you in whatever way I can,”
Glisten forced a smile. “Thank you, sir,”
“Please, Rodger is perfectly fine, no need for formalities if we may form a friendship,”
Glisten smiled for real this time. Perhaps the hunter would be easy prey. Besides, once he stripped him of his soul, he could simply toss Toodles into an orphanage, right? No harm done! See, the bottomless pit of shame and guilt was just temporary, it's always just temporary!