jigokulogs | [Closed] Just Ydris learning how much food people eat

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[Closed] Just Ydris learning how much food people eat

Who ⬤ Ydris & Junpei, Ydris & Artemy, +Yuuji Also
What ⬤ Moving in and Making Lunches
When ⬤ Very Start of May
Where ⬤ Sutoku Alliance Territory
Content Warnings ⬤ It's Ydris, so NSFW talk will probably happen fair warning.

We* won't have to be alone again. For

moondregs

[After balancing their combined, very modest rookie budgets, Ydris came up with a suitable place to share with Junpei. It was about what they expected to get for their money- a slightly better part of the city than they had each on their own, a smaller space to share, but better amenities. The studio apartment was high up in the building- the elevator not always working, sorry Junpei, get fit- but with an all told attractive view. At least at night, with lights on. During the day it was mostly just overlooking dingy rooftops.

The main draw was it had a modest sized kitchen to work with. It wasn't too far from Junpei's theatre... if you didn't count the stairs. At least moving what they owned was easy, because they scarcely had anything between them. Ydris' tentacles easily float their few bags up the long climb to their door, the dragon unlocking it and standing aside for Junpei to go in first and take a look.]

The bed by the window is for you. I have that couch to settle on.

[just a few furnishings, but it was cozy enough. No kitchen table, but there was a counter with barstools to sit at. The main space has the bed shoved up beneath the window on the far end, fold up divider tucked against the wall. There's a clearly second hand couch and coffee table, nothing that would be comfortable for a person to sleep at long term, but this is Ydris. They won't mind it one bit.]

Just stopping by, no burdened emotions here For

pathofsacrifice

[With the new spot settled in to, Ydris stocked the kitchen as best they could plan and afford. It had become their goal to be as efficient as possible at preparing meals for those they cared about. It was absolutely necessary that anybody they looked after was well fed.

What kind of a miracle are they, if they can't do that much?

... They miss Artemy.

Had it been long since they'd seen him last? Not really-? Didn't matter. They gave him a call and gave clear directions on how to find their new apartment. The door would be left open for him. Ydris would be cooking, trying to perfect a few filling meals which easily fit into the boxes they had found for easily portable lunches. That can keep them busy. That can keep them from focusing on how eagerly they wait for him to appear. Just staying busy, absolutely not thinking about their own, ridiculous, fluttering anticipation whenever he said he was on the way.]

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The way you see me is too kind.

[ Yet he can't help but want to drown in that kindness. He is happy -- happier than he thought he would be -- when they take his hands back. Artemy can only stare at how their fingers interlace with one another; at how it feels and looks when they squeeze their fingers between his own.

He wishes his hands were free, but it is good that they were not. He thinks he would wrap Ydris up in his arms, hold them close and tight. He isn't sure what he would say, but knows that he would not want to let them go.

A joke comes out instead of all the warmth he feels: ]

I'm also a brute and a fool. Are you going to denounce those things about me, as well?

Hmmm... No! I won't deny that you've proven both those to me. [considering how they met, those sound right. They squeeze Artemy's hand all the more playfully, their strange tone not usually matching their emotion, but that bit of teasing was clearly being more cute than biting.

Which, speaking of, they food is done! Ydris slips their hand from Artemy's to reach over and grab the finished bowl of steaming hot food. They gleefully present it to him with a spoon stuck into it. It's nothing complex, but it smells divine and this time they've prepared more than enough for a man Artemy's size. They're improving!]

Omelette over stir fried rice and vegetables. I cut a hot sauce down with soy, so it's hopefully not too much heat mixed in. [heat is their specialty, so it should have juuust enough]

Good. I'd worry if you didn't notice those points, at least.

[ Again, he tries to smile. It's getting better; he finds that his face is softening the more that he is with them. The strain and stress of those days during the plague will hang on him; those hurt soaked too deep into every part of him to be able to let it go, but he finds himself able to smile thanks to Ydris. ]

Ah.

[ The noise comes out first; he's glad they slipped away. He wasn't sure what he was thinking or implying with his thoughts. It certainly almost sounds like love, but that isn't right. That isn't right for me. The smile becomes a little more wry, as he carefully takes the offered plate. ]

This would keep me from feeling hunger for half a day at least.

[ Grand praise, indeed! ]

We'll share some together, right? [ Even if they don't really need to, he'd feel better if he shared the feast with them. ]

Then I will make you another meal for the other half of your day. One to take along with you. [they will insist! And further, they will insist he return each morning to have breakfast and pick up a lunch to go, if not also a dinner if needed-

Is Ydris being excessive? Overprotective? Likely both. It's how they show they care, they don't know many other ways...]

It's a waste for me to burn up food, all I get from it is some idea of taste. You need the energy.

[Oh, but... idea. Idea that they immediately fall for the temptation of. They settle arms at their sides, hands looped over the edge of the counter where they're sat on, leaning forward just slightly with a coy smile]

You're welcome to feed me a spoonful, though. Just one, a taste test.

So long as you are giving me food, I will always take it. [ His head drops as he chuckles; laughing at his own food-motivated actions. Yet even still, he never feels like he is safe with what he has. He always fears that the next day will come and he will be scrambling for a piece of food.

It has happened so many times during those long days. He had enough food to feed his belly one day and the next he was eating lemons from the garbage. But still, from Ydris, he feels like he could believe that the next day would not be so harsh. ]

Some idea is better than none.

[ So, if they are willing; he does use the spoon to make a spoonful of the omelette. He thinks to blow on it, but decides against the gesture. Instead, he holds one hand under the spoon as he lifts it up for Ydris. ]

Do I ask you to say 'ah?'

[The impulse to cool it down first is hilarious, given Ydris' whole deal.

At the question they give their cutest open mouth smile, sure their form is actually in place to like... be a whole mouth and throat situation. If they aren't paying attention to the details of the illusion, such inner workings need not manifest. Doing their best to appear human in body is a bit important for this.

Though the sharp tusks flaring out from their bottom row of teeth don't perfectly imply human all that well]

Ah!

[ He breathes out a little laugh; there is a distinct desire to kiss them on their nose. The feeling comes and goes. He wonders what prompted it in the first place.

But the thoughts are dismissed as he carefully places the spoon into the offered mouth. They really are beautiful. They really are perfect. Yet even as he thinks this; he is vaguely aware that his impression of Ydris brings some level of something to them.

Artemy isn't sure what it is, but -- ]

Did you get a feel of the taste of it?

[Catching the spoon on their tongue, they accept that offered taste with that impish smile of theirs. Food is less something they chew on and more thing they breath in, so it's gone just like that. Maybe a slight smell of burning, don't worry about it. They let Artemy take the spoon back, subtly pleased it will taste something of them now, if he uses it rather than demanding a new one.

Call it a hunch, Ydris doubt he will...]

I deem it acceptable for you,! Now eat your fill. [One leg extends and prods at the man's thigh, as if he needed to be egged on to... well, eat eggs.]

If you don't like it, be truthful. I can try another recipe.

[ Watching them eat, it leaves a warm feeling in his heart. He can acknowledge it now; it is a feeling of being home, of being somewhere safe. There is a sense that nothing bad can happy, and he basks in it with a small level of caution.

He hopes that he can repay them for the security that they give.

Taking the spoon back, he laughs at the appraisal of their own meal. ]

What other recipes have you got cooking for me?

[ Artemy can't help but make the slight joke; he settles down where he is and begins to take a large bite of what is in front of him. Sometimes, he remembers how he should eat; he remembers they should be small, careful bites. The food was just finished cooking. He breathes in to accept the heat; he thinks it tastes of Ydris and the tips of his ears burn a little.

But overall, it's good; he has no complaints. Then, again, he is someone who would readily eat lemons and peanuts out of the garbage. He probably is not judge of taste, yet he smiles. ]

I like it. [ He says, after he swallows. ] I like it a lot.

I have many variations on the same ingredients, really. Eggs and rice are the cheapest and most filling items I can find in bulk. Anything on sale I can grab to add on is a bonus. I need to get a lot for a little, in order to feed as many as I like to.

[So long as I cook using different methods and spices, nothing should get too tedious to eat-

They chatter on as Artemy eats his bowl of food, kicking their legs idly back and forth, still sat on the counter. Extra hands float and clean up meanwhile, the Dragon excellent at multitasking and very orderly. What might usually be a more dingy apartment is notable spotless, Ydris hardly letting a thing fall out of place.

When he's eaten all he can, Ydris reaches out for him to pass the bowl back to them. If he does, they catch Artemy by his wrist rather than just taking the dish, nudging him forward to stand in front of them at the edge of the counter. Their legs are shifted open to accommodate, of course, because Ydris can't just do things not suggestively. That's asking too much...

A look up to him with those pretty, burning eyes of theirs]

All done?

How many people are you hoping to feed?

[ Laughter wraps around his words, but it’s a fond sounding merriment.

Yet as he eats, there is a worry that builds up inside of him. A tingling sensation in listening to Ydris talk about the expense of food and how much that they want to ensure others have some sense of food security.

It makes him think of Dear Gravel; she wanted so much to take care of others. She did so much for others; he wants her to feel some sense of healing after what happened, too. All her struggling and he wonders how much she will be able to heal.

So, he wants to tell them that they don’t need to give everything of themselves for others; little things like helping to ensure bellies are filled can become more and more obligations.

But, but … Ydris was created to look after humanity. That is their purpose in life; he has no right to tell them that their purpose may drain them dry. He has no right to tell them that their purpose is wrong. Everything about them is perfect; the most that he will be able to do is watch and heal them when they grow tired and weary.

The meal goes down without incident. Incident being that sometimes when he tastes food, he forgets himself. He ends up devouring the meal in front of him without any sort of manners or restraint. He acts like the food in front of him won’t be there tomorrow, because it might not be. It really might not be. But he’s able to eat slowly, savor the food.

It’s because he’s only thinking of Ydris and it slows everything else down.

When he finishes, he looks up when they take his wrists. He looks at them, then; he really looks at them instead of thinking about all that he could do for them; all that he wants to shelter them from. He lets himself be moved as they want him to be moved; settles in the way that their legs allow. Artemy feels conflicted by the question. He doesn’t know why, but there is a conflict there in his heart. ]

For now.

[ He says, in a whisper. ]

Ydris… [ There is a promise in the way he says their name. He doesn’t quite know what that promise entails, but he knows he is making it in just how he calls to them. ] … Nothing.

[ Nothing for now; sacrifices are for later. ]

[With Artemy stood so tall and firmly in front of them, Ydris wants to keep up a smug and satisfied front. They do take the bowl from him and set it aside, so nothing is in between the two of them. The man answers, Ydris' attention likewise snapping to be on him and absolutely nothing else.

He says their name and it's so quiet and heavy. Ydris' immediate reaction is to anticipate some kind of confession. Of what, the dragon doesn't quite jump to consider, just something... something about them? They don't have a stomach to know what that tritely described feelings of butterflies is- but their emotions do a flip! Something like hope and then worry- What is he going to say-?

"Nothing."

H, how dare he-!]

Artemy, you tease me... [they wanted to sound scolding, but it's completely toothless, escaped them more flustered than anything- instead of a condemnation it's just a statement of fact-

So, clearly, they need tease him back. They reach a hand to rest on one of his arms at the bicep and the other puts a thumb to his chin before it delicately sweeps back along his jawline, settling back near his ear. They muster the confidence that he seems to admire in them, to speak this time]

... are you going to offer me another taste? [the food is gone so there's only one way to accomplish that, right?]

No more than I should.

[ He tries to make a joke of things, but it is difficult. There is so much that he wants to say, but he can't bring himself to say it. There is certainly a part of him that desires to place Ydris on a pedestal, but that isn't right; they are walking with him and it would spit on those actions to not keep walking with them.

His heart does skip a little as they touch him; he stares at their face as their fingers trace over his muscles, over his face. He watches them carefully with warmth and acceptance filling his gaze. ]

I would offer you anything you ask. [ There is something terrible in that confession, and he knows it isn't completely true. If Ydris asked for too much, he would tell them, but he believes in them. He believes they would never ask more than what he could give.

He does as they did, like it is some ritual. He rests a hand on their bicep; he traces the path they took on his face with his thumb on theirs. Artemy smiles; it's a weak and tired one, but it is always getting better in their presence.

And leaning forward, he captures their lips in a kiss. ]

[Ydris' awkward grin softens at the joking along, before Artemy makes his claim. A dangerous claim, indeed. That's certainly more the confession Ydris had been anticipating, or fearing, or both. Anything- oh, they can think of so many things-

They can think of all the more things when Artemy mirrors their gestures and leans in, kissing them. Ydris smiles into that kiss, glad it wasn't something the man hesitated over or withheld. He probably should do the latter, Ydris should probably not want this so much, but their lips meet and Ydris breathes him in.

This is probably an objectively better kiss than Ydris' first jumping onto the man. Ydris won't choose favorites. They'll let their arms slide over the man's chest and then down, to ribs on either side...

Until one presses directly into the still healing bullet wound.]

[ Their body against his own is a comfort. He wants to wrap himself up against them, but is not able to do so.

Not for any theological reason that he could come up with, but instead it is a physical one. Their hand presses against a healing bullet wound and he has to pull back involuntarily.

He hisses through his teeth as his body shudders in pain; he realizes what he's doing and has to pause to look at them with an apology painting itself obvious on his face. ]

It's all right. It's just a bullet wound.

[Artemy crumples away from them and Ydris is quick to let him go, not wanting to hold onto him if he regretted-

Oh. Wait. What!?]

When did you get shot!? [not even a full beat] Who must I burn the life out of-!?

When I went to chase those that killed our leader--

[ His eyes widen a little at their declaration. ]

-- you need not kill anyone for me. [ A beat passes. ] In fact, I would not want you to stain your hands for a person like myself.

Luckily my hands don't stain- No! That's beside the point.

[pointless pointless- they focus up on the spot before back up to Artemy's face]

Are you okay-? Did you see a healer about that or patch it yourself? Are they supposed to hurt that long-? [they say mostly to themself, quietly]

How bad are bullets for people...? They seem quite bad...

I feel it is part of the point --

[ His dry joke probably is not appropriate for right not, but he tries it all the same. ]

I am all right. It's not the first time I have been shot. [ There is a weary resignation to the way that he admits this to them. ] A healer mended the wound with magic. I did not ever meet someone truly touched by God and able to do such healing.

[ Though, there was a strange girl that said she had such power. He muses over what Clara did, and while she claimed to have healed so many, he never saw it once himself. Does he need to see it for it to be true? He closes his eyes and shakes his head; he believed her in the end so why should he suddenly talk as though she never had that gift. ]

No, I only met one person touched like that, and she never did explain how it was that way.

[ And so he corrects himself, before pausing-- ]

They can hurt for awhile.

[ How comforting. ]

But being with you, I always forget the hurt that is there.

[Ydris has to really fight to not interject and fuss and bark at the man- how about you STOP getting shot!! -that's a silly thing to say. He probably tries his hardest not to. Well. Ydris can hope he does.

They give a few very deliberate blinks when the man's tone turns so tender towards them. How quickly that can shrink down Ydris' overreactions, like a flick of the wrist to turn a stove burner to low. Frustration suddenly simmering as Ydris flusters]

U, until I go grabbing at you. Tell me when and where you are hurt, Artemy! I won't paw at you so... ingraciously- [they paw at you more graciously-! Wait. No. Yes? Probably, even if they shouldn't.]

When and where...

[ Artemy thinks honestly on this request. His expression shifts to a quiet resignation. He reaches out to take the wrist of one of their hands so that he could place it over his chest. ]

I do not know when but my heart has always been a rotten thing. It's diseased and ruined through actions not entirely my own, but still my own doing. [ He offers a slight smile -- the same sad one that he always gives. ] A metaphor, yes, but this is where the real hurt lies.

All other things can be bandaged and healed. You can paw as you like at me... I've always been a bit of a bear and can take all those things.

Your... heart- Your heart is not rotten! [trust in Ydris to defend Artemy even when he says otherwise. They press their hand to the center of his chest, before moving it away. Ydris leaning in, turns their head, and places an ear to the spot instead. They listen to the man's heartbeat, wishing their hearing wasn't their dullest sense... but it's Artemy's heart.

Artemy's heart is not rotten. They reach both their arms up and embrace beneath his arms, tucking in so to avoid that wounded spot beneath his ribs.]

Your heart is strong, Artemy. Resilient and kind. You have a good heart, I know that for absolute certain. [is this assuring? Can they assure the man with brute force will alone? They believe it, themself, Ydris sure it's true, but they don't know how to convince the man, so... They just say more quietly to his chest.]

A good heart cannot rot. Trust me.

[ It's a surprise to hear such denial of what he knows to be the truth.

He lifts a hand to rest on top of their head, gently stroking their hair as they listen to his heart. He smiles, despite himself, as they defend his honor and person. It makes his chest hurt to hear, but the pain he feels isn't completely unpleasant. ]

I trust you.

[ It is what he manages to say. ]

You have so much faith in me. How can I not trust it?

[Ydris' hair remains strange as the rest of them, something like a sculpture at first touch, only to become more like actual hair. They need to be paying attention to making the illusion more detailed and hair is so very detailed! Pleasant, though, to allow Artemy's hands to trail through the strands.

They keep their ear to his chest, just enjoying listening to the heart of the man they've been falling in love with...]

It's not faith, I know it's true. [faith is a silly thing for a god to have, isn't it? They can only know... or should only know. Ydris has to fight their youthful insecurity quite often. It's easy to put forth confidence with Artemy, though. The man trusts them and Ydris can believe in themself when he's around.

They finally turn their head and look directly up at him, giving a playful squeeze, avoiding that tender spot ever still]

You must trust me in the same way you cherish me, Artemy. I shall do just the same to you!

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pathofsacrifice - 2022-07-10 06:56 (UTC) - Expand

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enterthe - 2022-07-10 13:42 (UTC) - Expand

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[Closed] Just Ydris learning how much food people eat

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