#excuse the gif quality tumblr ate it

[vanisheep]

Forgot to post but here's a little something I made for the @clansoftheshoshone 's yearly holiday gift exchange ✨️

This is old lady Hollywisp of Creekclan

[maystea]

just because we check the g_ns at the door doesn't mean our brains will change from hand gr_n_d_s

you'll never know the ps_ch_p_th sitting next to you you'll never know the m_rd_r_r sitting next to you you'll think, "how'd I get here, sitting next to you?"

— Heathens by twenty one pilots

[inhuman-obey-me]

Happy Birthday Barbatos!

Tumblr ate the quality on these so please click to see properly. <3 

HEADCANON

There are various dark shapes all over Barbatos's body, which might seem to be tattoos at first glance. However, if you really look at them, you'll notice that they are ever-shifting, gradually traveling across him or falling away. Some are dark and sharp, while others look more faded or fuzzy, but there are always a mix of them, always changing. Careful not to stare too long, or you'll find yourself hypnotized by the patterns, lost in the entrancing way they glide upon his skin.

They are not tattoos at all, he explains, but rather shadows of other worlds -- glimpses of moments from other timelines and universes making themselves known upon his form.

Accompanying (slightly steamy) fic below the cut! Or read on AO3 here.

It's late into the night already when you finally manage to shoo everyone out of the hotel room, with excuses of having to get up early for the next day of the Confectionery Expo.

Another chorus of the rowdy group shouting "Happy birthday, Barbatos!" fills the air on their way out, leaving the air feeling cheerful, if now empty.

"My apologies, MC, I should have realized that you were growing tired. Or," the birthday demon says with a politely deferential smile as he comes up behind you to close the door after them, "was there some other reason you wanted them all gone?"

Ooh, cheeky bastard. You were trying to be coy about it, but of course Barbatos is too sharp not to have noticed.

You place a hand lightly on his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt and batting your lashes coquettishly at him. "Well...I'm not the only one who was kind of excited that there's only one bed in here, am I?"

With a chuckle, he gently removes your hand from his shirt, and for a moment, you worry you might have done something wrong. You'd both been saying that you were happy for the time alone all day, but maybe you had misread things? Were you being too forward?

But no, he's removed your hand so he can undo the buttons himself. "No, I'll confess I was not particularly disappointed either. I wouldn't often have such an opportunity back at the Demon Lord's Castle, I suppose." Gloved fingers tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes. "We'll have to make the most of it."

He catches your lips in a kiss, guiding your hand back onto him. You quickly slide the silky smooth material of his now-open shirt off his shoulders, exploring his usually covered-up frame until your fingers find his and he presses you and your intertwined hands back against the door.

When he finally draws back, you gasp in surprise at the sight.

Given the modesty of his usual butler garb, you hadn't really seen much of his skin before -- and you hadn't quite been expecting to see every inch of the prim and proper servant's torso covered in darkly patterned tattoos. And are they...moving?

He chuckles softly at your surprise and steps back a bit for you to better take it all in. "Not what you were expecting?"

"I don't know what I was expecting," you answer absently, too drawn in by the way the shadows glide slowly across him. Different patterns move in different directions, overlapping and coming undone as they travel, and you yourself feel like you're coming undone at watching them. "What...are they? Tattoos?"

"Not quite," he smiles. "They're shadows."

"Shadows?" you repeat.

Without thinking, you reach a hand out to trace the designs. They're smooth upon his skin, and true to his description, they feel a little bit colder on the darkest parts. Some seem to be patterned in sharply angled lines, while others flow freely in rounded tendrils. They glide across his body at different speeds, seemingly disappearing in random places at times, as others shimmer into existence elsewhere to take their place.

"Yes, shadows. Of other universes. They are from other timelines, you see," he explains, sounding a bit amused. "That one you're touching now is from a far off timeline that long since branched, in which the Demon King never retired to sleep. As the Young Master never took power in that world, conflict is ongoing between the realms, and so a group of lesser demons has surrounded a young angel, where your finger is resting. They will soon destroy and devour the angel, for many of the lesser demons in this world often go hungry."

Now that he's explained it, you're able to make out the abstract shapes of the scene a bit more clearly. Just as he described, a figure in the center morphs, a vague shape of wings bursting out before other silhouettes in the scene pounce upon it, tearing it to shreds. You follow the lines with your fingers, brushing lightly across his shoulder until the shapes lead you to his back, where they disappear.

Gently, he tips your gaze back to his face. "Careful, my love. They'll draw you in if you don't look away," he whispers.

Blushing a little at having gotten so distracted by the shadowy shapes, you quickly close the distance between you, and he pulls you into another long kiss.

It's not long before he undoes your shirt as well, and leads you back towards the bed, sitting you both down at the edge. A tingle runs down your spine at the feeling of his skin against yours, occasional colder spots leaving chilly caresses upon your body as the shadowy shapes travel across his.

You lean down to tuck a few light kisses upon his neck, and the tendrils of another tattoo-like shadow flit down to meet your lips. It tickles a bit, and you can't help but let out a giggle at the sensation. "What's this?" you murmur, running your fingers over the spot as you take the moment as an opportunity to catch your breath a little.

"A phantombeak avocet - a rare Devildom bird - building a nest," he answers, running his fingers through your hair. "They're quite famous for their long...beaks." His breath catches slightly on the last word as you mischievously dive back in to plant another kiss upon the spot on his neck.

Amused at having elicited such a reaction from the normally never surprisable butler, you decide to continue asking him about the shapes as you travel down his body.

"What about this one?" you ask, brushing your lips teasingly over his collarbone, where one set of thin, twisting black lines disappears into another.

"A snake, slithering into a cave to find its next meal," he hums in response.

You slide your fingers further down, tracing the sharp edges of another group of lines just above his abdomen. "And this one?" you ask. The lines of this set are dark, though thin, and look like a set of triangles.

He frowns slightly. "That one is a bit of a grisly scene, in a timeline much closer to this one. Another couple staying in this same room, but one of them has just discovered the other's...indiscretions. What you see there is his hand, wrapped around a knife. His lover won't survive the night, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" Your face pales, and you quickly pull your hand back, but he chuckles at your reaction.

"Not to worry, they're far from us even if the timeline is close. But," he says, rolling you over down onto the bed, the breath of his next whispered words tickling against your ear, "let us set the shadows aside for now, hmm, my love? You've been running your lips and fingers all over me the whole night. I do believe it's my turn."