An Assortment of Mukuro Quotes I May or May Not Use in Despaircest Fic at Some Point
"Shut up. You don’t understand her. You don’t know anything about my sister, or me."
"I wish everyone would stop. Junko-chan wasn’t a big part of my life—she was my life.”
"I believe my sister loves me. I have to."
(someone else): She tried to kill you!
"Yes, that’s how I know she loves me."
(someone else): What?!
"Junko-chan loves despair. Being betrayed by the person closest to you is one of the purest forms of it; she wanted it badly, but knew I’d never be strong enough to give it to her. So she tried to give it to me. She tried to give me something she wanted desperately for herself."
(someone else): No, she tried to kill you to throw suspicion off herself. To make sure her identity as the mastermind stayed hidden.
"If that were the case, why try to surprise me? If that were the only reason, it could’ve easily been part of the plan."
(someone else): But—
"You don’t think I would’ve died for her if she asked?"

Despair is a Wonderful Thing - Drabble #5
ooc;; I was bored so I decided to write a despaircest fic. Hopefully you guys like it. Please tell me what you think.
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And there it was. The despair she oh so craved, in a ball in front of her. This current embodiment of despair was…. Whimpering? It’s pathetic pleas for help had died down quite some time ago. Well of course, hope can only prevail for so long before despair come bounding in to take over. The “Super High School Level Hope” everyone had hyped about was off in the corner, chained to the ground. Most of “Hope“‘s limbs were shattered, bones peaking from here and there. He was still alive, though barely breathing.
Is this what I wanted? She second guessed herself a lot. Those second guess went by, ignored, every time a cry or murmur of despair could be heard. She let out a laugh, amusement something she found more often recently. Oh, but why might this unaveragely beautiful gyaru feel such amusement at the sight of her “friend“‘s mangled bodies before her? The answer to this is obvious! Even though she assumed the title of “Super High School Level Gyaru”, her true title which she coined herself was “Super High School Level Despair”. It was a title no one expected from such a perfectly perfect super model, such as Enoshima Junko — not like she gave a hell what anyone else might have had to say on the matter.
The absolutely adorable girl walked through the room, nudging at limbs, deliberately splashing in puddles of blood, and cackling at the distorted bodies before her. This room alone was enough to keep her relatively amused for a few minutes. Right when she thought she was about to despair into her deepest desires, a voice rang out.
"Sis…!" The voice came from the direction of the door she swore she had locked. The Gyaru’s face contorted into one of anger and she was about to yell at the top of her lungs. She spun around about face before letting out a light gasp, taking a step back. Just for that little touch of detail, the girl’s pointed high heel landed right on the back of Mr.Perfect’s hand. It wasn’t like Junko didn’t get a kick at the hall monitor’s weak attempt to get her to move; in fact, she was sure she was wetting her lacy undergarments at the thought.
For a moment, the flawless heroin forgot the situation as her arousal took hold, until her sister’s gaze caught her own. She let out a sigh, almost as of her high had been barely scratched at then left to dry. “Mukuro, Mukuro, Mukuro~! Mukuromukuromukuromukuromukuro!” She repeated her sister’s name many times, like the name tickled her tongue. It sounded like a five year old that had just made a friend.
The newcomer of the scene, Mukuro, was still trying to drink in the absolute despair that paired its self in the room’s rose coloured blood. “W-what have you done…!?” Her voice shook as her eyes watched the half conscious looks of her peers.
"Muuukuro…~" The blonde said, taking a few steps toward her sister. She had blood painting her hands, bits of her hair, most of her clothes, and her boots. "Isn’t this the best~? Watching the despair on our friend’s faces…. Watching as they cry and plea for some sanction…. Mmm~!" Junko’s eyes were glazed over and it looked like that arousal was being rekindled.
Mukuro watched her sister, worry stirring in the pit of her stomach. She though she could understand her sister, but her face of sheer terror told the darling model that Mukuro’s assumption was wrong. Mukuro, “Super High School Level Mercenary”, who also had claimed “Super High School Level Despair”, was Junko’s own flesh and blood; the two “Despair Sisters” were twins, destined to share a fate of shared existence. Like that matter at all to the “Queen of Despair”, Enoshima Junko. She, obviously, would do anything for enriching, whelming feeling of the ultimate despair. If she got annoyed with her goody goody twin, she could always dispose of her just like she had her beloved classmates.
Mukuro was used to seeing casualties; this should be nothing to the mercenary. But Junko could see it on her slightly paying face, the solder’s dark freckles began to stick out more on her otherwise fare skin. Junko could see the sheer horror planting its self on her twin’s features — despair was overcoming Ikusaba Mukuro! Moreso than any battlefield could have granted her, this despair was fresh and straight to the point.
Before Mukuro could muster any more words, she felt hands dance across her torso. A warm bust pressed against her back, arms held her tight. “My Mukuro, isn’t this what we wanted? The most despair inducing despair… Something that might even send us into eternal misery…?” Her voice was smooth, barely letting a light rasp across. Her hands ran along the muscular figure of her sister, not hesitating as her thin fingers touched places she was sure Mukuro let no one else touch. “This despair…. Is perfect.” Junko let out in a whisper.

despair (⊙‿⊙✿)

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Big Bro’s Home
Fandom: Dangan Ronpa
Pairing: Despaircest
Kinks: Genderbend, Non-con
Word count: 906
To say that Mamoru Ikusaba hated his brother Jun Enoshima would not be true, but not entirely inaccurate either.
Mamoru was a tough young man who worked with a mercenary company called Fenris. He’d seen combat in many foreign lands and knew his way around about every small arm imaginable. He’d personally slit a man’s throat and watched him die.
And yet, Mamoru was scared of his brother Jun Enoshima.
Jun was a fashion model. He was as popular as some of the female idols, even appearing on several covers of high profile magazines. He was a rising star, as bright as Sirius Major compared to the Suns of his peers.
No, Mamoru did not hate his brother, but he did not trust him completely either. On the contrary- Mamoru loved Jun. He felt like he had to- they were family. But Jun was involved in several shady deals, and they made Mamoru nervous.
It had been a while since he had been back home. Jun was waiting to greet him. Mamoru could hear his heavy boots clomping on the floor as he opened the door.
“Hello, brother! Long time no see.”
Mamoru stood in the doorway, holding his bags. Jun hugged him and invited him in.
When it came to things like this, Jun was a normal boy. Maybe a bit too friendly with his brother, but nothing to be concerned about. It was only when they were alone that Mamoru was truly afraid of his younger brother.
Mamoru was putting his bags down in his room when Jun rested on the doorframe.
“I’ve missed you, big bro.”
Mamoru turned around slowly, seeing his brother smiling widely.
“Me too.” Was all that he managed to say.
“Don’t be so shy, big bro. You know you’re glad to see me too.”
Mamoru turned around. As soon as he did, Jun pressed his lips against his. Mamoru gripped Jun’s tie, but Jun was determined. That was another thing that scared Mamoru- whatever Jun wanted, he got.
Jun pushed Mamoru back easily onto the bed. Mamoru quickly sat up to see Jun giggling.
“You’re so fun to tease. I’ve missed this.”
Jun got down on his knees as Mamoru started to sweat.
Mamoru noticed, for the first time, his brother’s long nails. They were painted red- probably fake, too. Mamoru didn’t understand his brother’s fashion style. He was ultra conservative when it came to wearing clothes, whereas his brother was used to being in glitz and glamour.
“You’re weird, Jun.”
Jun looked surprise to see his brother talking. He looked up as his fingers delicately gripped Mamoru’s zipper.
“Weird, huh? Are you talking about my fashion sense again, Mamoru?”
Mamoru wondered if Jun was psychic or if he simply had good intuition.
“I’ve never seen a boy have nails like that. It’s… unusual.”
Jun smiled wickedly.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t like it. Now, sit back and let your younger brother take care of you.”
Mamoru’s pants came unzipped slowly. Jun used his hands to force open Mamoru’s jeans, sending the flaps off to the side. Mamoru’s underwear was revealed. Mamoru hated to admit it, but he was pulsing underneath the cotton fabric. Jun’s long nails pulled down his last defense and Mamoru’s cock flopped out.
“You’re such a horndog, older brother.” Jun smiled again. Mamoru hated it, but then Jun put his hands around his shaft. His brother used lotion to care for his hands, and he could feel his smooth touch on his skin. Jun began to stroke up and down slowly.
Mamoru was sweating. He looked down at his brother, performing such a lewd act so freely and easily. Mamoru wasn’t sure how he’d react to his crush suggesting something like this (if he was able to tell his crush that he liked him, of course).
“Just pretend I’m Naegi.” Jun said, his voice practically dripping with acid.
Mamoru gave Jun the thousand yard stare. His brother loved to pick on him about Makoto Naegi. Once, under duress, Mamoru had told Jun that he liked Naegi. Unfortunately, Mamoru was almost certain that Naegi liked that girl, Kyoko Kirigiri…
Jun licked Mamoru’s tip, and then slowly slid his cock inside his mouth. Mamoru gripped the sheets tightly and whimpered.
Jun took him out of his mouth and laughed. Then, he licked all the way up Mamoru’s shaft, looking him in the eye. Jun really loved it when Mamoru actually showed emotion. He reveled in Mamoru feeling despair over doing sexual things with his brother.
Jun held his brother’s hand, and Mamoru squeezed it hard enough to almost cut off his circulation. Jun, meanwhile, took all of him inside his mouth and Mamoru gasped.
Mamoru had poor resistance. Soon, he’d cum all over Jun’s face.
Jun used his hand to wipe cum off of his face, and then he licked it off his hand and smiled.
“That was fun. I’m so glad you’re home, big brother.”
Jun got up and ruffled Mamoru’s hair. Mamoru remained motionless.
Jun got up to close the door, but whispered to his brother, “Let’s have some more fun soon.” The door shut and after that all was silence.
Mamoru hadn’t moved since Jun left the room. He was an elite mercenary that had killed more men than he could count. And yet, a tear ran down his cheek. He was lonely and afraid of what his brother might do to him next.

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Zetsubou Twins Masturbation Styles
Mukuro: Looks at magazine photo of Junko or holds an item of clothing to her face (panties, shirt, tie, whatever), closes her eyes, leans back—usually against a wall—and touches herself. Doesn’t make much noise.
Junko: Has Mukuro hold a loaded gun to her head/hold a knife to her throat/stand on a chair with a noose around her neck and tells her to pull the trigger/stab herself/jump if Junko can’t come within a certain time limit. Sometimes she mixes it up and has her point the gun/knife at Junko instead. Could wake the dead with her moans.

we’re ready to despair at Carolina Anime Day
are you?

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i have so many headcanons FOR NAEGIRI AND MUKURO AND JUNKO

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Bad instagram pic sorry

Someone write a huge epic fic about Mukuro helping Junko rehabilitate. No one even knows if that’s possible, but she refuses to give up. All her other friends (with the possible exception of Naegi because he’s so optimistic) tell her that her sister is hopeless, and beg her to break ties.
That doesn’t sit well with Mukuro though. She dutifully goes to visit whenever she can, enduring a torrent of verbal abuse and sometimes thrown projectiles. She works side-jobs to afford the cost of keeping Junko in a top-tier institution. She keeps a detailed journal about her sister’s condition, and reads up on mental health often to find out anything that might help. She answers the phone in the middle of the night and immediately leaves the house or work when the center calls her to let her know Junko has been hurt, accidentally or by her own hand.
The years-long process emotionally destroys Mukuro, but she keeps pushing forward because she truly believes that Junko can be saved the way she was. When the day finally comes that even Naegi suggests that she move on, she loses it.
Where is all their talk of hope being indomitable now? They once told her that there is always hope, even in the face of the darkest despair, but now that suddenly doesn’t apply to Junko?
They’re just worried about her. Her life revolves around her sister, and she isn’t making time for herself. Her health and personal relationships are suffering. They just want to remind her that there are people in her life that care about her, and will treat her better.
We just want you to realize that it’s possible Enoshima-san will never get well.
Angry, Mukuro cuts ties with most of her friends after that. She feels lonely, frustrated, and terrified that they’re right and Junko won’t ever improve.
Finally, finally, after more than a decade since first getting her twin help, Junko apologizes during one of Mukuro’s visits.
She’s been nothing but selfish all this time. Mukuro should have found someone to date by now, if not marry. She should focus on her career and her friends, maybe even start a family, instead of toiling away for her sister’s sake.
Mukuro has heard similar words before, but they’ve never been sincere. They’ve always been tinged with acidic resentment, an accusatory edge just barely concealed. But this time is different—this time Junko doesn’t seem to be fishing for anything. She’s just sad.
Tentatively, Mukuro reaches across the table. It’s been several years since she’s had physical contact with her twin; adrenaline is humming in her veins and making her arm tremble.
Her fingertips brush Junko’s knuckles.
I want you to stop coming, Nee-chan.
That night, Mukuro calls her friends.