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.

caput lupinum
Rating: Explicit (to be safe) (incest, cursing, dubcon, some graphic junk, ye)
Pairing: Despaircest (Ikusaba Mukuro/Junko Enoshima) and some one-sided Mukuro/Naegi
She carries the weight of the world and it is so very heavy.
________________________________________________________
She carries the weight of the world and it is so very heavy.
She had sworn herself into it. A world of closed doors, a world of locks with no keys.
Shut, shut, shut. Everything is shut and empty and it echoes, it echoes into ambiguity and void and it becomes soundless. She swims in it, drowns in it, it engulfs her and she’s suffocating. But she had promised, she made a promise to feel nothing. She made a promise and she couldn’t go back on her word.
youdon’tbreakpromises,sis.
gotit? yougotit,sis?
She makes herself something of worth. Hundreds of battles, no marks. Not a scratch on her. People notice, people talk. But she’ll still feel nothing; emptiness, apathy, indifference. Things like love and happiness and hope serve her no purpose. She’ll say those same words one hundred times until they become jumbled incoherence in her mouth, noise patterns with no value. Emotions are a liability and she dreams of tearing them out of her chest-
her crooked nails wrapping around
her heart, digging into it
thump-a thump-a thump-a
pulling- it-
ripping it out of her chest and handing it to
her sister (la la la lov-el-y sister of mine)
her ribs make a sickening
crack-
there’s some, some, some disorientation but
it’s okay because
her sister is hap-p-p-py-
just don’t get any
bluh- bluh- blood on her shirt
Ikusaba Mukuro snaps out of her daze and sputters as she feels the long, acrylic, ruby red nails from behind as they wrap around her throat-
fluidly
she kicks her heel back into the attacker’s shin and
the nails are gone and she
drives her elbow back behind her
into their kidney and they’re yelping now
ow ow ow ow ow-
“Ow! Fucking Christ Mukuro, I was just messing with you!” Enoshima Junko’s face winces in pain as she slumps into nearby chair, still gripping her side.
"Junko!" Her heart races. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-"
"Stop apologizing, you’re making me sick." She rolls her eyes, and begins to massage her shin.
imsorryimsofuckingsorry
She bites her lip, worrying about her sister. She acted on impulse, on reflex, she didn’t mean to. She wants to apologize again, but it would just annoy her sister even more. So she shuts up.
"What I was going to say, before you decided to ruthlessly beat me into a pulp, was that something wonderful happened today." She brings her hands together in an excited clap.
The soldier looks up from staring at her worn out sneakers with frayed laces, she pauses, trying to find the appropriate response.
"What happened?" She finally manages to say
"I tripped that Naegi kid- fell flat on his face. So much for Super High School Level Good Luck, huh?" She lets out a laugh and it sends shivers down Mukuro’s spine.
"Why would you do that?" She begins, her voice faltering as the words escape her lips. She knows why Junko did it, she didn’t need to ask.
"Because I could," She answers disinterestedly, eyes dulling, not even caring or giving a second thought to who or what she hurts. "Besides, it was only interesting for a few minutes. Everything got boring again after Kirigiri-san helped him up." She twirls a strand of strawberry blonde hair in her fingers. "Girls like her are really quite a bore, she almost reminds me of you because of that."
Another loud laugh.
Mukuro pauses and breathes and she stares at her feet again.
"You shouldn’t be so mean, Junko. I mean, after you execute your plan- they won’t even remember." Her eyes stay downcast, not wanting to meet her sister’s icy stare.
"Boring Mukuro," She tuts. "You’re never any fun, always tryin’ to rain on your lil sis’ parade, eh? How lame, how disappointing. Remind me to never tell you anything exciting again."
imsorryiloveyou
"You’re right, Junko. I’m sorry-"
Her words are cut short when Junko stands up and tightly grips the collar of her shirt.
"How many times have I told you, stop apologizing. Your talent is killing people and you shrivel like a weak little mouse when I so much as look at you! God, it’s like you always manage to find new ways to disappoint me every day. How is that even possible? Explain that to me, I’m absolutely dying to know why.”
The soldier droops her head, adverting her sister’s eyes. She draws a blank, everything Junko says is right. She can’t disagree.
"I don’t know." She finally mutters after what seems like minutes.
Her sister lets go of her and exhales loudly. “It’s like I’m talking to a fucking wall, Mukuro. You’re so stupid sometimes, no- oh my god, you’re stupid all the time.” She groans. “Oh hello, I’m Ikusaba Mukuro, nice to meet you! I can kill you with my bare hands, but I sure as hell can’t spell or write nicely like my cute little sister does.” She mimics in a snide tone. “You’re definitely a charmer, sis.” She follows her remark with laughter.
Bitter, dry laughter; it scrapes against the soldier’s ears as her sister’s hands curl around her shoulders.
She detaches herself from Junko’s words. Emotions are a liability and she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care-
"How sad," She hears when her sister pushes her on to her bed, pulling open the buttons of her shirt. Mukuro closes her eyes. "Not a scratch on you." The blonde whispers low into her ear as her nails claw against her sister’s skin. "How worthless you would be- if I-"
"Junko, no."
"How worthless you already are." Her eyes lower, her expression grows dark.
she fights back the
bile rising in her throat
she feels sick
"i d o n t f e e l s o g o o d"
she mutters
she thinks she mutters
she withdraws and she’s
thinking about naegi-kun
and how he smiles at her
as her sister’s nails
dig- into-
her thighs
i don’t feel so good
i don’t feel
i
She feels Junko pressing her heat against her knee and her fingers pressing against her own. She says nothing. She retreats. Like a soldier- she retreats and she thinks about Naegi’s smile and the way it makes her f-
except you don’t feel, right?
you’re a killing machine.
you couldn’t care less about what foolish little boys say or do.
She couldn’t care less. That’s right- she doesn’t care. Her breath shudders as she feels Junko’s lips against her ear.
"I love you so much, sis." She whispers, it vibrates low inside the soldier’s eardrum.
"I-I love you too."
She bites her lip again as she comes quietly, silently.
She feels the model slide off of her, clicking her tonuge in distaste. “Boring.” She mutters and Mukuro hears the door slam.
She jumps up and runs to the bathroom, breaking into a cold, clamy sweat. She leans over the sink and retches, sweat plastering her dark hair to her forehead; bright pink lipstick stains the collar of her uniform. She looks at her ugly reflection and retches again.
How she would kill and destroy and die for her sister’s love, her sister’s approval, oh- it hurts.
It really does hurt- even for the emotionless monster Mukuro disguises herself as.
She finds the bed again and wraps herself in the bed sheets, immersing herself in her sister’s perfumey scent; everything feels cold and silent and still. She prays that her efforts will not be in vain, everything she does is for Junko after all.
How she longs for her praise, her affection; a touch that doesn’t sting her-
she imagines
the stupid fucking look
on her face
as she hands her sister
her heart
thump-a thump-a thump-a
and she tosses it on the ground and
steps
on it
her heel d-d-digging into the
dying muscles
s h e f a d e s o u t
She thinks of Naegi’s smile again and wonders if her idea of love has been distorted.
Outside, she hears rainfall.

this is how i contribute to the fandom

Junko invites Tsumiki to spend the night with her in her private quarters. At first, Tsumiki is thrilled—at least until she gets there and realizes that Mukuro also sleeps in the same bed.
Things get awkward pretty quickly.
Tsumiki can’t sleep, paralyzed by fear because Mukuro is glaring at her fiercely while protectively spooning her sister. Junko of course is loving every moment of it; she giggles and reaches back to ruffle her twin’s hair like she’s a dog.
"Don’t worry. The Big Bad Wolf here won’t hurt you. Not while I’m around, anyway." Junko turns her head to kiss the side of Mukuro’s face. "If I deem someone off limits, Nee-chan won’t even touch them."
Tsumiki isn’t stupid. She recognizes that both twins are telling her the same thing: she’d better see that she stays in Junko’s good graces.

Junko leaned back against her twin without warning. Instinctively, Mukuro caught her, arms around her middle, her chin colliding with one of the bear-shaped hair ties—the black one—her back now flush against the wall.
Her sister tugged at the sleeves of her uniform jacket before picking up one of her hands and examining it.
"It’s strange, isn’t it?" she said.
"What’s strange?"
Junko’s long red nails trailed across Mukuro’s palm. The older twin tensed; she hated the suspense of trying to decipher Junko’s current mood.
"Nee-chan," she said suddenly, "how many people have you killed?"
"I don’t know."
Mukuro felt her twin shiver. She was turning her hand over now, scrutinizing each finger, tracing the tattoo, then moving on to the left.
"Very, very strange," she said.
"What’s strange, Junko-chan?"
"These hands have killed so many people you can’t even count them, but they’ll never hurt me."
So this was the mood she’d slipped into. Mukuro would have to tread carefully. It was better, in these situations, not to say anything.
"No, they can only do this to me." Junko firmly gripped Mukuro’s hand and slid it down her torso, under her skirt, and into her panties. "Even though I ask you—beg you—to hurt me.”
Mukuro pressed her face into Junko’s hair. She could feel the heat of the blood rushing to her face; it was embarrassing how easily her sister could excite her.
"I’m sorry," she said, her voice quiet, further muffled by the bleached hair.
"I want you to kill me, Mukuro-nee," Junko said, her hips beginning to move against her fingers, "I fantasize about it all the time."
The older twin emitted a low, needy whine. It was not a sound a wolf would make.
"I can’t."
"I know. It’s because you don’t love me enough." Junko’s nails drove into the back of Mukuro’s hand, holding it firmly in place.
"But don’t worry. Because I do love you…so, so much."

Ah yes my completely stable and healthy ship.

id=23287383

id=37280097

spreading despair on stardoll xoxoxoxo
they made us play this weird game where you have 30 seconds to dress up and you have to vote for your favourite outfit idk
i was junko and mukuro was helgie

listening to “Hey Brother” by Avicii while reading Dangan Ronpa IF really hurts my feelings

Craving You - Drabble #9
This one is another despaircest drabble, dealing with necrophilia and non-consensual sex. It’s not as bad as some other things I’ve written, but it’s still pretty… well… gross. Anyway, I hope you like it and please give me feedback.
__________________________________________
Blood. Blood was all the eye could see. She had planned it this way. The lovely model of despair had planned it perfectly. There was blood decorating her perfectly proportioned torso, dropping from her long, styled hair. The grin on her face was comparable to that of a Cheshire Cat. Her hands were out, yet curling in as if she had just hit a peak one could only reach from the best sexual stimulation.
Enoshima Junko, at the centre of it all, wasn’t even sure if the blood she was bathed in belonged to her. She knew that some of it belonged to that useless corpse of her sister. She had played with her sister like a cat would an injured mouse; she hurt her first, then batted her around, slowly tormenting her to her death. Junko literally drooled on her sister’s face in ecstasy as she watched the light fade from the girl’s eyes. What more could get a Super High School Level Despair off more then killing her own sister? The answer was simple: Nothing.
She collapsed to her knees — a scene no one would expect to see; a moment of sincerity. “M-M-Mukuro…!” Junko struggled to get her own sister’s name out. But what an act this was! She was simply acting like this for a moment’s despair to come waving back through her, arousing her once more. “Why did you have to die!” Fake tears rolled down her face, smudging her perfect mascara. More despair rushed through her veins in the form of adrenalin.
Her heart began racing and the sweet spot between her legs began throbbing again. Junko leaned down to be face to face with her mangled sister. The corpse’s eyes were still open, capturing her last glimmer of hope. Junko felt another wave of pleasure rush down her spine, causing her to become even more wet. She ran her fingers through Mukuro’s tangled, short hair. It was still damp with her own blood. Junko pulled her hand away and licked the still warm liquid from her finger tips. She let it a moan as she swung a leg over her sister’s body, straddling the hips of the corpse. She leaned down, getting within a few inches of the still face. “Mukuro, you were perfect for me, start to finish.” She said, before capturing the chilling lips with her own. Despite her sister’s lips being a little cold, her skin was still holding on to the temperature her sister last was.
Junko’s hands ran down her sisters chin, to the top of her blouse. Her fake fingernails caused her no problems as she plucked each button off. She slipped her hands into the bra and began touching the non-erect nipples. Junko unintentionally rode her sister’s hips, her panties wet enough that she was sure she would leave a wet spot on her sister’s skirt. She pushed the blouse down to each side as she kept Mukuro’s cold lips for her own. She pushed the bra up before freeing the motionless mouth. She kissed down the flesh, feeling the temperature difference right away with her hot lips. She sucked on Mukuro’s clavicle, right where she knew the solder liked it before continuing down to her breasts. Before violating her sister’s body further, she took note of how undignified her sister’s corpse looked. It gave her the chills, causing her toes to curl a little. Seeing her sister, who was always so stiff and uniformed, mangled and so exposed turned Junko on more then she ever could have imagined.
Junko took hold of the mercenary’s nipple with her teeth and bit down, quite hard. She sucked on the flesh for a while, before switching sides. She messaged both of the breasts with her hands as she did such, letting out loud moans and bucking her hips and against her sister every so often.
Junko eventually got bored with that and moved herself down, to sit on the ground in front of her sister’s legs. She pulled the girl closer by her ankles and began kissing, licking, sucking and biting up and down the leg. She got to mid though before pushing the pleated skirt up and taking the sexy camouflage thong off of the girl. Junko took a moment to wonder why exactly her sister was even wearing such a thing. After the moment was over, Junko felt a rush a pleasure take over her cunt as she stared at the perfect, more sacred spot of her sister.
Junko crawled forward a little before letting her tongue reach out and lick her sister’s entrance. She felt a shock of that previous pleasure tremble through her once more. She felt as though her sister’s pleasure was shared between the two of them — which was probably her own delusion. She pushed her face against her sister and ran her tongue up and down the area, not even fazed by the fact that she was eating out a dead body. She had wanted to do something like this to her sister since she had become Super High School Level Despair, but her sister had always been shyer, more reserved. Well, Junko wasn’t going to let that follow her to death.
Junko’s tongue moved faster the more pleasure she felt. She was massaging her own core as she let her tongue work her sister. The cooling temperature of the body as she worked only made her more aroused. Junko nibbled on the area in front her as she felt everything around her tense up. She let out a rather deep, loud moan before the white, perfect high came to an end. Junko pushed her sister away, removing her hand from her underwear. She licked her own juiced off of her hand, sucking it off like a porn star. She forced herself off the ground before grinning at her sister’s disrespected body. “I think you look better this way, sis. Maybe for once you weren’t a useless disgrace.” She stated before turning away.
She felt a small ping of regret as she left her sister’s body, but even that was interpreted in her mind as the perfect despair and she let out a light moan from it. Everything was for despair. No one could change that. Not even her sister.

id=38785690

The other morning I woke up and my first thought was “I bet Junko probably masturbated over Mukuro’s corpse at some point.” (I’m perfectly well-adjusted, I assure you.)
Lo and behold, a few days later, a fic about that very subject appeared.

Wait a second, hang on.
There’s that part in the original Dangan Ronpa where Monokuma shows up pissed as hell because someone stole his “treasure”. Half of that “treasure” is the skeleton key Kirigiri uses to throw you/Naegi under the bus in the Chapter 5 trial.
The other half is the first page of Mukuro’s profile.