Fuck it I’m bored so I’ll elaborate a little bit, as a treat https://twitter.com/sushib0mb/status/1299813925765230604

Arahabaki finds him...intriguing. Dazai—this boy, donning his ill-fitting black suit and a cold, calculating mind belied by his boyish smile and child’s temperament and immaturity, he’s so far removed from the realm of these other mortals that his vessel keeps company with—

Arahabaki is nothing if not grateful when he frees Chuuya of their hold. They were beneath him, nothing but writhing maggots at the feet of a higher lifeform, trying to take advantage of a power they didn’t have the slightest understanding of.

But this one, he’s /different/.

He’s clever, manipulative, ruthless... and he understands his vessel in a way that no before has ever managed to.

They are bonded from the moment they meet—in one heated exchange, their fates are indelibly intertwined; Arahabaki sees their souls merge in that instant, watches

them crash together like the waves of two great bodies of water crashing and pooling as one.

And in that moment, Arahabaki gets its first true taste of an energy that is so sublime, so undeniably otherworldly—so different, even from his own vessel, the god finds itself courting

a desire that is laughably human in how primordial it is, how basic.

A desire that only grows, festers deep within the deepest recesses of his vessel as the years quickly pass, in the service of killers and conquerors.

In those three years, his vessel, and this man, Dazai, they only grow more powerful, both separately and together.

And closer, too.

Their nights, especially those after hard assignments, are spent in each other’s arms, talking in hushed whispers and their moving together—

it’s a dance Arahabaki is all too familiar with and yet not familiar with at all. Humans and their carnal needs...Arahabaki finds sex amusing most of the time, particularly between these two. They don’t necessarily know what they’re doing; they move purely on instinct, going with

what feels good, what feels right.

But to their credit, they’re both exceptionally quick learners. Clumsy fumbling in backseats and beneath bedsheets soon gives way to truly beautiful, erotic exchanges; passionate affairs in which the heat seeps deep into his vessel’s core and

strokes Arahabaki’s metaphorical chin, tantalizing, /urging/.

Pleasure thrums through his vessel’s body each time, but that’s not what really draws the god to the surface. Through the eyes of his vessel, he can see dark hair fanned out on simple white sheets, flushed cheeks

and parted, panting lips that are quickly assaulted with more kisses when the two young lover’s mouths collide yet again.

And that is the first time Arahabaki decides that he wants to experience the human mechanisms of sex, to learn firsthand what an orgasm feels like—it must

good, given how often his vessel and Dazai seem to chase it—
Arahabaki wants to be more than just a cogent spectator nestled deep within this young, sweating, furiously pumping body.

Arahabaki wants to touch the body writhing beneath them, to be the reason those noises keep

falling from Dazai’s lips.

But they finish long before the god is able to fully spread through Chuuya’s body, to overlay its disembodied form into his vessel’s limbs and really ease into the rush of human sensations.

It’s utterly disappointing, to say the least.