IM SO MAD CAN ANYONE FIND THE ORIGINAL PIC OF MUKURO WITH THE JUNKO WIG?? ? LIKE IF YOU HAVE THAT PIC SAVED ON YOUR COMPUTER CAN YOU SUBMIT IT TO ME BECAUSE I LIKE IT A LOT

Rating:Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:F/M
Fandom:Dangan Ronpa
Relationship:Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Characters:Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko Pekoyama Peko
Additional Tags:Angst Hurt/Comfort
Stats:Published:2013-08-04Words:1151Chapters:1/1Comments:2Kudos:22Bookmarks:2Hits:48
There's No Use Crying Over Spilled Blood
Chiara
Summary:
When she's gone and you're too late
When she's gone and that's her fate
Don't yell at a closed door
It won't even listen to you anymore
It's over for the both of you
And you know it to be true.
(Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Chapter 2: MAJOR spoilers)
"When do you ever learn, Peko?" Fuyuhiko sighed, looking down with a frown. Eyebrows knitted together, a solemn expression, and a serious face; it was unlike him. He was usually snarky, arrogant, mean... he was the kind who threw harsh words towards people even if he did care about them. Tough love.
Pretend you're a normal high school student just like everyone else. Pretend like we don't know each other before we got here. No relations whatsoever. Don't call me Young Master in public, only Kuzuryuu. He recalled the words he told her; maybe not word for word, but they were still his words, nonetheless.
Was it really his fault she felt that way? She kept on telling him that she was merely a tool. A tool, not a person, or a human being with feelings and weaknesses. Just a tool. A tool doesn't feel anything; not fear, pain, sadness, nothing. When a tool is damaged, it can be fixed. When a tool is destroyed, it can be replaced. A tool only exists to protect, nothing more, nothing less. The words she uttered from time to time stung Fuyuhiko whenever he hears them, or whenever he remembers. How could she even think of herself that way? She was brainwashed by the family. Fuyuhiko doesn't need a tool. He never did. He didn't need someone to rely on. Not his family, not her. All he wanted was to stand on his own, and Peko couldn't see that. She kept on pushing that she was his tool, spouting those words whenever he protested. It hurt. He just wanted her by his side as a person, not a possession for his own benefit and use.
"Why did you have to live your life thinking that way...?" His soft voice seemed so alien to him. Bitterness tinged his words. "You... you're a human being too... You didn't have to go through all that for me, 'cause look at you now..."
His fingers clenched, hand balling up into a fist. He was mad, mad at his family for what they have done to her, mad at himself for not being able to change her view of herself and her life, angry at his situation, angry at Monobear, and angry at her, too.
He hated things about her, too.
She was kind in her own stoic way. Even when her face doesn't show much, she does show him her concern in little ways. Meanwhile, Fuyuhiko was coarse, like sandpaper. He was not used to expressing things like that. If Peko couldn't properly show him how much she cared, then Fuyuhiko was worse.
Her voice was soothing, reassuring. Her words made him braver so he can face his fears. When they were children, he would sometimes get scared. He would open up to her about his fears.
Sometimes it would be something as silly as some urban tales, or horror stories. Supernatural beings that kids were normally scared of. But Peko wasn't. That's why he looked up to her a lot; she was strong, and she didn't let anything get to her. She would be there to tell him that she'd protect him until the very end, and that he would have nothing to be afraid of.
Sometimes, he would tell her about his fears for the future. He would soon be the boss of the Yakuza. Everyone keeps on telling him he couldn't. What? Lead the yakuza? You're still a kid! They would laugh, and make fun of his face, and his stature. He grew to become rough in speech and in gestures. He hated people telling him those things, making fun of him just because they can, so he didn't let them have their chance. The moment he arrived on the island, he made it clear that he was not to be messed with. He told her these fears, and she told him that she would bring down whoever opposed him. She reassured him that he would become a fine boss of the family, the best boss the yakuza ever had. And he believed her.
When he grew up, he gradually distanced himself from her. I don't need tools for me to have my way in my own life. I can handle things on my own. He felt bad about it. He wondered how Peko felt about it. She would sometimes slip, and let her sadness show. She never cried though. Never lamented about it. Unlike him.
He hated her sometimes, because sometimes he told her to leave him alone, to go away, but she refused to leave his side. I need to always be with you, and be prepared. She never let him slip past her eyesight, in fear of someone trying something funny. He kept on telling her to get off his back, but she refused to. Then she would say that she only responds to his orders. Contradiction.
Even so, deep inside he truly cared for her. How can you not learn to care for someone you have been with your whole life? This was painful for him to face. Now it's just too late. Too late to make things right between them again. No more second chances. It's all over. She was strong, but why was she not strong enough to last?
"I didn't need a tool, Peko. I didn't need you to be my tool. I just needed you to be there for me... Why did you have to... I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry!" Tears welled up in his eyes, as he pounded his fist angrily against her cabin's door. He screamed, yelled, kicked, thrashed. He let it all out. He hoped Peko would open up, to tell him that things would be all right, and there was no reason to panic, or to despair.
But that door will be opened no more. It's over! It's over, and there's nothing left! No wake, no funeral, no burial! Nothing. Not even her ashes, not even something tangible to remember her by. Only the memories they both shared, even if most of it was bittersweet.
She's dead, and she's gone; taken away to God-knows-where. All he have now was his damaged eye, forever unable to see. It was a small price to pay, for contributing to Peko's death. Oh, how he wished they were together again! He didn't even care how anymore.
He had to face the coming days on the island on his own now.
"I'm so... sorry..." He dropped to his knees, sobbing on the doorstep. People passed him by, but they all knew it would be wiser to leave him alone. He spent a great deal of time there. It was long before he was ready to go back and leave.
"I'll forever carry you in my heart, and you'll be with me until this fuckin' thing ends. I'll get us both out of here, I promise you, Peko."

its not nudes sorry
hey claire this is ur birthday present so i hope you like it!!!! ive never written despaircest before even tho i think its cute so….go easy on me yeah cries
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Mukuro Ikusaba loved only one thing in the world.
She was the most elite soldier in Japan, if not the entire world, but she did not love the rush of adrenaline on the battlefield, the feel of cold, deadly metal in her hands, or the admiring congratulations of her fellow soldiers after she had led them to yet another victory.
No, Mukuro Ikusaba loved Junko Enoshima.
As a soldier, she was well used to the concept of loyalty to the death. She would go that far for her men, yes, but that paled in comparison to what she would do for Junko – to what she was about to do for Junko.
Mukuro tried to drive all the memories of the last two years from her head. In a way, she almost envied her classmates – they at least would be spared the true horror of the situation. Though, Mukuro thought as she applied the finishing touches of lipstick, she was sure Junko wouldn’t be able to keep their memories from them for long. There was too much potential for complete and utter despair. Nothing, she knew, could compare to despair in Junko’s eyes. Not even her.
Junko often reassured Mukuro of her love during their nights together, both with her words and her touch. But Mukuro still knew that no matter what love Junko felt for her, it was completely and utterly eclipsed by her love for despair. That was why, Mukuro told herself, straightening her wig, it was so important that they participate in this…project…together. She hoped that by doing this she might be able to understand her sister better, and that maybe her sister might even come to love her a bit more. That was really all that mattered.
As if on cue, Junko threw open the door and strode over to Mukuro, throwing her arms around her sister’s waist. “You look gorgeous,” she cooed, trailing her delicate fingers slowly down from Mukuro’s waist to her thighs. Mukuro murmured something unintelligible in response, her cheeks hot. “God,” Junko continued, and Mukuro could feel her smile, “they are going to be in so much despair.” Mukuro smiled silently. She placed her hands gently over her sister’s – they fit together perfectly – and led them higher up her thighs, under the hem of her borrowed plaid skirt —
Junko pulled away abruptly. “It feels weird watching yourself do this, doesn’t it?” She gestured to the mirror and averted her eyes demurely. She was in one of her moods again. Mukuro sighed softly and brushed her skirt back down, but Junko immediately perked up. “So that’s why I think we should take this somewhere else. What do you say, Sis?” She winked and outstretched her hand to her sister like a symbol of camaraderie.
And Mukuro Ikusaba, who would be killed by that same hand in a matter of weeks, took it.
There was no turning back now.

The akward moment when you realize Junko got off to killing her sister

id=37710139

i’ll eat you whole, i love you so, a despaircest fanmix
音乐在线播放及下载地址：
http://pan.baidu.com/s/1h7TjN

Here, Have Some Despaircest
Mukuro didn’t understand why Junko refused to address the fact that their mother had died in childbirth. Given her zeal for despair, one might think she’d dwell on it, salivating while her fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt. Yet instead, Junko only referred to the incident in vague terms, explaining her mission statement away by saying she’d been born into despair.
Was it guilt that drove her to develop in such an unorthodox way? Mukuro understood that. She’d been burdened with the same feelings of responsibility her entire life. Had she been the more reflective type, she might have associated her own interest in developing survival skills with the fact that her mother had lacked the physical resiliency to survive birthing twins.
Perhaps part of it had also been their father’s barely concealed contempt. He had demonstrated on several occasions that the only motive he had in raising his daughters was loyalty to his dead wife. She and Junko hadn’t spoken about him in years, not since they’d disposed of him, and even then, it had only been shop talk related directly to the murder.
It probably didn’t help that Mukuro had disappeared for three years, either. The betrayed, usually passive aggressive disgust in Junko’s voice when she referred to her stint in Fenrir was enough to indicate that she resented Mukuro’s absence, even without the fact that her sister had forced her to hunt down and kill every member of the operation once they’d stopped being useful.
There were days when it was difficult to bear, knowing that Junko would never forgive her.
But then again, her sister’s dedication to negativity had begun long before that night when Mukuro had decided to explore the European wilderness.
She had a clear memory of being fifth-year elementary school students: Junko had broken a picture frame containing their mother’s portrait, and they’d huddled together in the corner of their bedroom, holding the glass shards against their wrists. They’d had matching hairstyles then, long and black and straight. The most boring, predictable haircuts. Mukuro could remember how it felt to have their bangs pressed together when Junko rested her forehead against hers.
At the time, neither of them had said anything. Junko’s expression had oscillated between excitement and resignation—it had reminded Mukuro of looking into a mirror while being deliriously tired. Breathing heavily, they’d slashed their wrists, watching their own blood in awe.
(She had often thought about this moment during her time in Fenrir. It usually came to her when she was busy carving Junko’s name into her inner thigh, a process that had taken her months to complete. She wondered if Junko had the same thought during their current sessions when Mukuro would cut her own name into her twin’s flesh.)
Of course, the wounds were superficial; upon being discovered, gauze and bandages were sufficient in foiling their suicide attempt. While Mukuro had been quietly relieved, she remembered how strangely Junko had acted. It had been as if her plan not working had elated rather than disappointed her.
"Maybe I just don’t want a tragic back story."
Mukuro looked up from the manila folder sitting in her lap, containing the profile of her next mark. Junko stood next to the bed, wrapped in a short red silk bathrobe decorated with a white sakura petal print. It looked like something they’d sell to tourists in one of those duty free shops in Akihabara. As usual, the robe was arranged in the way most conducive to showing off Junko’s impressive cleavage.
"Welcome home."
"You were thinking about it again, weren’t you, Nee-chan? Don’t lie; I can tell."
"Thinking about what?"
"Oh my god, you are such a terrible liar. I don’t even understand how we’re related sometimes."
Junko took a short hop up onto the bed. The reverberations from the mattress springs mussed the papers in the file.
"Look, I don’t want anyone pinning my despair on some childhood trauma, okay? How lame and cliche is that?"
Mukuro nodded. It was a fairly well-known trope.
"It’s bad enough I have a twin sister. At least in this case it’s not ‘good-twin, evil-twin’ since we’re both evil, but ideally, I’d rather not have you around."
"You always know what to say, Junko-chan."
"Gettin’ fresh, are we?" With a smile, the younger twin leaned forward and kissed Mukuro. It might have been mistaken for tender if Junko hadn’t added a sharp bite to her lower lip as she pulled away. "But yeah. Dead mom, daddy issues…that’s more Kirigiri’s deal, not ours."
"All right then."
Seemingly satisfied, Junko shifted so that her head was in Mukuro’s lap.
"Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m home early?"
"They way you’re touching my knee gives me a pretty good idea."
"You are the WORST," Junko said, rolling so that she faced away from Mukuro. The excess weight on her shins was extremely painful. Mukuro wondered if it was intentional.
She sighed. “Why are you home early, Junko-chan?”
The blonde jerked her body upright, grinning. She turned to lie down next to Mukuro on the mattress, spreading her legs.
"Upupu, isn’t it obvious? I want you to work on my mark!" She gestured to her right inner thigh, where the faint outlines of むくろ were traced into her skin. It would take several more sessions before the scars were as distinct as the ones on Mukuro’s right leg.
"Okay," Mukuro said, reaching for her knife. The thought of hurting her sister turned her stomach, and these marking sessions were almost unbearable for her. Watching Junko squirm in arousal was one thing, but feeling shudders of pain go through her sister’s body (even if she was enjoying it) was uncomfortable and awful. Junko knew that, of course, which was probably why she’d suggested the matching scars in the first place.
But orders were orders.
When she touched the tip of the blade against her twin’s thigh, handkerchief ready in her other hand to wipe away the blood, Mukuro wondered what their mother would think.

id=37796681

It’s a Despaircest kind of night so I’m reposting some of my favourites from my little minishoot at ACen. I can’t wait until next year because we’re totally going to do even more Despaircest and it’ll be absolutely, wonderfully despair inducing. (๑・ω-)～♥

I want to work cryptophasia into my despaircest fanons, but I’m not sure how.
Haha, now I’m imagining Mukuro and Junko having a conversation totally composed of 绝望 and 绝望的, while the other kids look on in confused horror.

id=33516179
an 8-track despair sisters fanmix
listen @ 8tracks
art credit
tracklist below the cut!
Paradise Circus- Massive Attack
Oh well, the devil makes us sin// But we like it when we’re spinning in his grip
Two Against One- Danger Mouse Ft. Jack White
And if your foot soldiers, sycophants, and yes men// plan to break into the middle of this little plan// Then they should plan to hear me say// that I won’t play around the way, anyway// I plan to plan around them
No Consequences- VersaEmerge
Drink it up and be so mad and wild along with me till the ending// Pray to set you free ‘cause I’ll give you the hurt// They gave it to me
Black Sheep- Metric
Our common goal was waiting for the world to end// Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend
Cassie- Flyleaf
"Do you believe in God?"// Written on the bullet// Say “Yes” to pull the trigger// "Do you believe in God?"// Written on the bullet// And Cassie pulled the trigger
Secret- The Pierces
I have something I want to tell you but you have to promise never to tell anyone// I promise// Do you swear on your life?// I swear on my life
Don’t Mess With Me- Temposhark
'Cause all your heads are gonna roll// I’ve made your misery my goal
Daniel in the Den- Bastille
And felled in the night// By the ones you think you love// They will come for you
音乐在线播放及下载地址：
http://pan.baidu.com/s/1eQdnG

I was thinking about my Mastermind Mukuro AU the other day, and imagined the scene where Mukuro’s prepping Junko’s body to be found by the other kids.
Since it’s almost morning, she has to hurry, stripping her sister’s corpse so they can switch clothes and carrying it to the cafeteria (entering it at night is forbidden and Mukuro’s too upset to think of a better rule to break). She then takes a small bomb, the same kind used in Monokuma, and places it in Junko’s mouth. Putting her fingers under her chin, Mukuro shuts Junko’s jaw and pauses, looking down at her dead sister and feeling grief well up again.
She kisses her and touches their foreheads together.
"Don’t worry, Junko-chan. I won’t let you down."
Then Mukuro rushes back to the control room, presses the detonator, and then plays the morning announcement.

and i think to myself
who will rp despaircest with me…………………………

DESPAIR…..ingly gross sketches of my OTP