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ratatatastic · 2 months ago

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beauty in scrums. beauty in immediately mobbing the man nearest forsy while he's down on the ice because ekky and maffhew would rather die than see anyone so much as touch forsy

ekky bearhugging noesen while maffhew helps by sticking a glove up in his face as they both push/pull him back so forsy has enough space to get up. babes thats what we call double teaming!!! special mention the ref trying to get maffhew to let go off his quarry because ekky already has a hefty hold of em but he hasn't learned the drop command yet so he's resource guarding.

honestly by the power of a ref and meier does benny also not get involved but brother he was 5 seconds away from jumping noesen. jesper is just here to oversee his feisty teammates. he's here in spirit.

the ref giving up and instead just trying to get maffhews stick out of the way as ekky calms down and let's go of his hunt

and the most beautiful part of all is bobby immediately vacating the area as his teammates muck it up because that is not in his job description!! it may be his circus and those may be his monkeys but if he looks the other way they sure as hell aren't.

new jersey devils @ florida panthers | 11.14.24

#gustav forsling #aaron ekblad #matthew tkachuk #sam bennett #jesper boqvist #sergei bobrovsky #florida panthers #2425 #love language? scrums #no ill never get over ekky detaining noesen on sight and maffhew immediately jumping in #dont touch forsy!!!!! dont touch him!!!!!!#forsy there are two men who scrum in your honour like they are peacocks showing off their tail feathers #ooooo look at their fighting abilities oooooo look how they show off their colourful feathers oooo theyd be such good mates #nico trying to join in the maffhew ekky noesen mess so its 2on2 instead but ref said no and he had to pair up with jesper #personally very funny to me #also forsy knocking into maffhews arm as he tries to stand up girl i know you think youre helping but-#ekky always defaults to the bearhug yeah girl you really arent a fighter #i need to know how maffhew got his stick stuck between ekky and noesen #they would all die for forsy and i completely understand that #its preseason all over again #dont touch our girlfriend #the forsblad + maffhew is very intricate so good for them #maffhew can really “but what about me :( ←girl with fomo)” himself into everything

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journey-to-the-attic · 9 months ago

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3rd anni req 13: satan, lucifer / sick

ao3 link

note: i don't have much to say i just think this one's real cute! takes place post-jtta ^^

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

…something’s not right.

I open my eyes groggily. I find myself staring at a ceiling that - albeit familiar - should not be there.

“Ah.” Something yellow pops into the corner of my field of vision. “How’re you feeling?”

“Bad,” I mumble hoarsely, forcing down a cough and cursing my stuffy nose. “What’re you doing here?”

“What’re you doing here, you mean.” Satan passes me a glass of water with an encouraging smile. “Lucifer brought you down a few hours ago.”

That’d explain the ceiling. I've woken up in the House of Lamentation, which is definitely not where I went to sleep. I’d be happy if I had the energy.

“Your dad called.” Satan nudges me until I take a sip from the glass. “Said we’d better take care of you while he was still down.”

He presses the back of his hand to my forehead, then hums a little worriedly. “...your fever hasn’t gone down at all. Your dad gave Lucifer some medicine. I’ll go get him - don’t move, okay? Back in a second.”

It’s not the worst cold I’ve ever had, at least, I decide as he hurries out. But definitely not the best, eitherI hadn’t expected it to get this bad so quickly - colds always hit Dad harder than me, so I thought I’d gotten away with a tickly throat.

It’s so warm in here. I kick off most of the covers, then immediately regret it as a chill passes over me. The duvet’s landed in a heap on the ground.

“What have you done now?” sighs someone from the doorway.

I blink at Lucifer, then hurriedly attempt to fix things, as if he hasn’t already seen it. As soon as I sit up and attempt to reach over the mattress, though, the entire world tips sideways, and—

“That’s enough.” Lucifer’s by the bed in about half a second. “You need to be resting.”

He very pointedly sets me back in place, then stoops to drag up the blankets as well. I grumble something indistinct and allow him to tuck the corners in, even though I’m already starting to overheat again.

“I’m not convinced your dad gave us the right thing,” mutters Satan, trailing behind with a brown bottle in hand. “IK, take a look.”

I squint at it. Hydrogen peroxide. Must’ve gotten it mixed up with the Calpol.

“...well, I can manage without,” I mumble, waving the bottle away. “Just have to wait it out.”

“I’ve had Solomon on the phone,” says Lucifer, watching me carefully. “Mostly unhelpful. He’s suggested vinegar and onion.”

When was the last time he got sick? The Middle Ages?? I scrunch my face in response, too tired to come up with a verbal one.

“I didn’t think so.” He brushes some hair out of my eyes, then holds my face still and peers intently at me. “...we’ll manage. What would you like for lunch?”

“Nothing,” I mumble, pressing my cheek closer to his hand. It feels nice and cool. “Mrgh. Feels like my head’s full of bees.”

He thinks for a moment. “...some fresh air might help. Satan can take you around the garden.”

“It’ll be chilly,” says Satan a little anxiously. “I don’t want to make it worse.”

Lucifer lets me use his hand as a pseudo ice pack for another few seconds, then gives my cheek an unusually affectionate rub and stands up again. At the same time, he shrugs off his jacket.

“You can use this,” He says, handing it to Satan, and sweeps back out the door. “I’ll make some tea. Don’t take too long.”

Satan pulls a face at his back. Then he turns to me with a much gentler expression. “Alright, how are we feeling? Are you up for a walk?”

“Dunno.” I prop myself a little further up, then press my eyes shut as the room flashes in and out of focus. “...give me a sec…”

Satan’s already crossed the room when I open my eyes again. Without a word, he wraps Lucifer’s coat around me like a cocoon, tying the sleeves to fasten it, then picks me up like an unwieldy parcel.

“...thanks.” The more I speak, the more I realise how bad I sound.

Satan chuckles and presses a quick kiss to the side of my head, then starts moving. I don’t know if he’s going extra slow because it’s harder to manoeuvre with me in his arms, or if he’s noticed how much everything makes my head spin, but the rocking is more soothing than it is dizzying.

It feels like my head’s about to pop. That’s kind of overpowering everything else right now. Though it’s all still just as miserable. Ugh.

“Everyone else’s at school,” Satan says as he walks steady circles around the garden. “Your dad called early this morning, but Lucifer thought it’d be better if they left the house quiet. I’m pretty sure Mammon clocked him, but…”

The sound of his shoes clicking against the brick path is like a metronome. I follow the rhythm with my breathing, trying to ignore the congestion. “What about you?”

“I overheard him on the phone, so I bothered him until he let me stay as well.” He pauses. “...we’ll go back inside in a bit. You’re not cold, right?”

I murmur a no, gazing around at the hedges for a moment, then dropping my head back onto his shoulder when my neck gets tired. Lucifer’s coat smells a little like that woody incense Dad puts out when we have guests over.

“Well, you’re in no condition to go to school, so you can just stay with us until you’re completely better,” He says, partly to himself. “Lucifer can’t say no to that.”

My head does feel less fuzzy when Satan heads back inside. Instead of taking me back to my room, though, he heads to the library.

“The fire’s going,” He says, transferring me to one arm and using the other to select a book. “I’ll read to you until you’re sleepy again. How does that sound?”

“Nice,” I mumble, managing a little smile when he tilts his head down to look at me. His eyes are warmer than the fireplace.

Lucifer joins us just as Satan is starting on the first chapter. He doesn’t interrupt - he sets a tray on the table, then picks up one of the three mugs and sits down on my other side.

He listens, blowing idly on the tea, then hands it to me once he’s deemed it safe. He waits for Satan to finish the chapter to speak up.

“Feeling any better?” He asks, touching a hand to my forehead. He isn’t wearing his gloves today. “...hmm.”

“It hasn’t been that long. I’ve read that humans run warmer, anyway…” Satan lowers the book and glances at the tray. “Is that one mine?”

“You need to actually eat as well,” Lucifer says as Satan clicks his fingers and floats his own tea over. “I’ve asked Barbatos to drop something off. Is there anything else you’d like?”

The prospect of forcing anything really solid down already makes my throat hurt. “Not hungry.”

He sighs. “I know, but it’s important. How about some soup? Could you manage that for me?”

I resist the urge to simply turn away in protest. My head’s clearer, but it feels like I’ve gotten grumpier because of it, now that I can register everything else that sucks in higher definition…

“...maybe later,” Lucifer decides, almost unnervingly patient, and taps my mug. “At least drink your tea.”

It tastes sweeter than usual. I wonder if he added honey.

Satan starts on the next chapter. He keeps his voice low and even, but affects a funny voice for the dialogue - especially when it’s punctuated by French, which I’m not entirely sure he knows how to read. Lucifer stays through it all, tapping a foot silently on the carpet and adjusting my mug for me every time it starts slipping out of my grasp.

Some way through chapter four, the doorbell goes, and Lucifer quietly excuses himself to answer it. Satan stops reading without being asked, marking his place with a thumb, then glances down and asks softly if I’m feeling much better.

I hum an affirmative. As long as I don’t move too much, and as long as I don’t try supporting too much of my own weight, I can just about stay comfortable.

I hear Barbatos’s voice from down the hall, but it isn’t long before the front door closes again, and Lucifer returns alone. He resumes his spot on the sofa, then opens the paper bag that he’s come back with.

Satan carries on from where he left off. I glance up at Lucifer to see if he noticed him waiting. Sure enough, there’s a particular twinkle in his eye.

I don’t get to contemplate that for long, though, because then he pulls a pastry from the bag, and very determinedly holds it in front of my face until I take a bite - it’s soft and fluffy, and tastes of ginger.

Then he pats me on the head, as if to say ‘well done’. He doesn’t try pushing me any more than that, but I don’t doubt things’ll change later. Lucifer gets antsy whenever any of us miss a meal.

As Satan reaches the end of the first act, I start wondering how long it’ll be until everyone else gets back. I can’t decide if I’m excited to see them, or if I’m just anticipating the inevitable increase in noisiness.

“...‘Is the murder the work of some rival gang whom Cassetti had double-crossed in the past, or…?’”

Something brushes over my hair. I glance up at Lucifer. He keeps gazing ahead, eyes barely open - looking closer to sleep than I am. In fact, the only indication that he’s still awake is the hand on my head.

“...they left the compartment.” Satan finishes, then clears his throat and drains the rest of his probably-cold-by-now tea.

There’s quiet for a while. Lucifer flicks his wrist, and the sputtering fireplace roars back to life.

Eyes still closed, he says, “Don’t stop there. We don’t know who did it yet.”

“Sure, if you want me to rip my throat to shreds,” Satan scoffs, then holds the book over my head. “You do it, if you want to know so badly.”

Lucifer sighs, but opens his eyes and does as he says. Flicking to the right page - Satan’s deliberately shut the book without marking it - he starts reading aloud from where he left off, at the beginning of the second act.

Satan swings one leg over the other and leans over so that he can vaguely see the page, and nitpick whenever Lucifer misses or misreads a word. If I lean back a little, I can set my head on his chest.

Every now and then, he cranes his neck down to peer at my face. I’m past caring, but part of me wants to tell him that, if I wasn’t already sleepy, he’d definitely put me off with the constant checks.

I am, though, which means that Satan quickly notes the look on my face with apparent victory. He leans down a little further and whispers, “I’ll tell you what happens later. Get some more sleep, okay?”

Lucifer keeps reading (I note that he isn’t doing Satan’s funny voices), but almost imperceptibly nods his head. I haven’t said anything in a while, and I have a feeling it’ll hurt if I start again now, so I just nod as well.

I’m not used to being passive in the House of Lamentation. It’s hard to sit around and let everything happen around you when it’s all so much fun - I don’t know how Belphie does it.

I feel a little spoiled. But it feels really nice, too.

I close my eyes and let it all wash over me. Hopefully I’ll feel better when I wake up, and we can all spend some time together - it’s been a while since I’ve been able to visit. That’d make it even better.

#3rd anni event #your honour they mean everything to me #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #jtta ik #writing

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