anon-chan i am so so so sorry for the wait it completely slipped my mind. i hope it being 200 words makes up for it.....

Kitaro didn't bat an eye at his unexplainable return, not that he expected the boy– or, well, man, now– to, though he was insistent on establishing rules, (“humans like those, yeah?”).

They were brothers.
Kitaro was the older one.
When they had sex, he had to be on his front.

“You can’t expect me to get a hard-on from my own face," he said.

"I feel sorry for you," he said more often, thin, bruising fingers digging into his pale hips. "Lookin' like me of all people."

He learned not to speak, it made Kitaro less angry, but his–... brother always left his mark, tooth, nail, fist.

"Girls don't look at you." They do, but not the way Kitaro means.

"People think you're a freak." With what they did in the dark of their filthy apartment, he couldn't argue.

"You're lonely." He knows it's not about him anymore, Kitaro's only vulnerable when he's dick deep in a giving hole, glaring daggers into a bony, twinning back. "And you only have a spitting image in your corner."

Such an unforgiving god, bringing him back to comfort a cruel, crying breast with nothing but an ugly face and an eternally damp corpse.

thank you so much!! so sorry for the wait. i hope you enjoy! thinking about mizuki boobs and pussy made me very unwell (in a good way).

Mizuki didn't realize her own beauty.

She claimed that scars and age stole it from her, though Kitaro couldn’t understand. The quirk of her lip, the dip of her curves, the sky in her eyes– what would it be besides beautiful?

It was worse when they bathed; Mizuki was hardly shy about her body then. They were family, and Kitaro kept telling herself that as the weight of Mizuki's bust pressed against her narrow back. Where Kitaro was thin, Mizuki was soft, and she wanted to sink her teeth, dig her nails, envelop herself in giving flesh to become one.

i'm interpreting this as a drabble request and if it's not i'm so so sorry i'm stupid.... i hope you enjoy!!

They're awful at hiding it. Mizuki tries, hushes and gentle shoves whenever Kitaro intruded, but his father couldn't care less about subtlety. Affection dripping off every word, nuzzles and faux kisses to Mizuki's cheek, so sickeningly sweet that nausea usually won over– bile, spit, and bitter resentment down the drain.

It had to be grief that led to this– why else would he think of taking a human lover, especially one so ugly and pitiful?

They're happier for it, finding new meaning in each other, and Kitaro couldn't understand why the remnants of his father deserved more love than him.

let's pretend i didn't forget to do this!!!!! and let's pretend too that tenki and doi are twins <3

Calloused hands, unkind strokes, a carelessness to Rikichi's pleasure that begets disdain, annoyance, and deep-rooted jealousy, maybe. He doesn't need his vision to know who it is.

"T—Tenki?" he half moans, half calls, eyelashes fluttering against his blindfold.

A low, unamused hum, and he's rewarded for his efforts with two pairs of lips against his quivering throat.

"That's right," Doi sounds so warm, gentle, but Rikichi's conflicted; he's all too reminded of how Doi speaks to his students.

"Stop spoiling him," Tenki is frigid, mean, always has been, yet it's by his hands that Rikichi spills much too early.

so sorry this took so long!!! please forgive me!!!! tw for transphobia.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a woman?" Kitaro cackled, letting curious fingers carefully part Mizuki's slit.

Because he wasn't one, and deep down, he knew something would happen if Kitaro caught wind of... this. No matter how hard he struggled, Kitaro kept Mizuki's legs high, spread, gazing down at what lied between his thighs like Mizuki was meat on display– a ripe corpse and a hungry butcher, to be ripped apart and devoured. Nausea bubbled in Mizuki's throat, threatened to spill.

"You're an ugly thing," Kitaro whispered, sickeningly giddy, "but I know how to treat a lady right."