CORPSE WAR BLADE

WELCOME TO A WORLD OF WOLVES, CORPSES, HOPE, DESPAIR, BLADES AND WAR... WELCOME TO THE ABYSS... RULE ONE: DO NOT FUCK WITH JUNKO ENOSHIMA OR MONOKUMA.

[inxabyssalxdespair]

Starter for @bxredxmbrxke​               | THE WOLF IN HELLA CUTE CLOTHING |

“HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLOOOOOO!!!”

Overly dramatic, AND ENTIRELY UNNECESSARILY INTENSE, strum of electric guitar strings (especially when one considered Ibuki WASN’T EVEN PERFORMING TODAY -- ...At least... Not yet...) signalled the arrival of one Ibuki Mioda. The ALWAYS LOUD & EVER PROUD bundle of manic energy drawn to the crowd like a MOTH TO THE FLAME.

“AND WELCOME TOOOOOOOO HOOOOOPE’S PEAK ACADEMYYYYY!!!”

Another hard strum sent a seeming SHOCKWAVE of energy resonating through the very atmosphere itself -- Sure to UNSETTLE the newbie students. No way could a single one of them be IGNORING HER NOW!! All dressed to the nines in mismatching attire. No matter which way you creased her she stood out as an ASYMETRICAL PARADOX of black, pink, white and blue.

“IBUKI CAME HERE TODAY BECAUSE SHE’S SUPER DUPER MEGA CURIOUS ‘BOUT ALL YOU FRESH MEAT BABYFACES!!!”

Bright magentas scanned the newest class of Hope’s Peak -- THE 78TH, to be precise -- With a not-so-quiet resonant hum of contemplation resounding as she chewed VISUALLY at her inner lip. Those SCANT few seconds were the closest anyone got to PEACE & QUIET as, before long, those same pink eyes lit up like CHRISTMAS TREES MADE UP OF LAVA LAMPS.

“YOU! YOU!! YOU!!! YOUUUUUUUU!!!”

Barging past several of the seventy-eighths, including, to Ibuki’s OWN surprise, an actual JAPANESE MUSIC IDOL, she speared her attention straight toward someone who captured her interest in her SECOND favorite thing of all time: FASHION!!

“OH MA GOD!! YOU!!! JUNKO ENOSHIMA, RIGHT?! PLEEEEASSSEEE TELL ME WE CAN TALK!!!”

And, with a single bound, she’d grabbed Junko’s wrist and gave an EXCITED TUG. Junko Enoshima had been a world-renowned fashionista who had made her fame and fortunes based ENTIRELY around her rather... OBSCURE-YET-EFFECTIVE choices of style. Ibuki, who hand-prepared her very own costumes from needle and thread, just so happened to VALUE that level of creativity and originality.

“COME ONNNN!!! DONTCHA WANNA HAVE SOME FUCKIN’ FUN?!”

[inxabyssalxdespair]

Starter for @bxredxmbrxke​               | WHERE THE WILD THINGS WENT |

Mukuro honestly had no idea what to expect. Another day, another difference. Both twins had a tendency to be very... errr... IMPULSIVE. Sometimes Junko would vanish on a three day bender with whatever random hot dude she’d last modelled with and return with HICKIES & BRUISES but starkly WITHOUT HIM. Sometimes Mukuro would go join a secret private military organization and return with a freshly doubled body count and an extra one-seventy-k in her bank. Othertimes Junko would get lost for days in her CHESSBOARD MIND -- Meticulously planning the next grand narrative that might just finally give the younger sister a sense of MEANINGFUL & FULFILLING EXISTENCE. Or Mukuro would take up a flight of fancy and become super obsessed with the utmost mundane... Like kidnapping a WORLD-RENOWNED HAIR STYLIST and ransoming them for their tutorship in the most random bid to become a HAIRDRESSER. However, all roads led back to the same place: HOME. Nothing ever truly engaged either girl WHOLLY & COMPLETELY -- No matter how desperately they wanted it. And before long...

WELL...

“Long time no see, sis.” Mukuro didn’t have a CLUE what kind of plans she’d presently been crashing in showing up out of thin air fresh from another spell in the underground. Would Fuyuhiko and Natsumi Kuzuryu ever figure out that their father was paying HER of all people under the table? “You still got that spare room?” OF COURSE SHE DID. (Unless she blew it up.) Junko lived lavish and rich -- Bitch had limosines to spare. Or... Well... LIMOSINES TO TURN INTO SPARE PARTS VIA UNSPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. And her penthouse estate had MORE than a few rooms to spare. “I’m not interupting anything, am I?” Could’ve been any number of things. A hookup? A date? Some bullshit masquerade of a SCHOOL HANG OUT designed to gather information. Some big social celebrity party. Or maybe she had a girl tied up in the backyard with a lit barbecue spit in the distance and a PAINSTAKINGLY SLOW drip of alcohol EVER-SO-SLOWLY BUT OH-SO-SURELY painting itself a trail from fire to woman. “Got you a souvenir.” Or rather, brought her the SPOILS OF WAR.

[ozzymemes]

toxic relationship sentence starters

“Didn’t I tell you not to smile at other people?”

“You’re just asking to get hit, aren’t you?”

“Who are you texting?”

“That outfit is too revealing. Go change.”

“All of my exes were better than you.”

“Do you like your friends better than me?”

“Put your phone down and pay attention to me.”

“If you try breaking up with me again, I’ll kill myself.”

“You were really friendly with them. Were you flirting?”

“Delete those selfies. They’re getting a lot of attention.”

“I don’t even know why I’m still with you.”

“We’re having sex tonight and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“If you want your phone back, you have to to delete every contact except for mine.”

“You look good with bruises. Should I give you a few more?”

“They were flirting with you. Did you like it?”

“Did you tell ( name ) that you want to break up with me? How could you do that to me?”

“You can’t do anything right.”

“Get out of my face, I can’t stand seeing you right now.”

“You’re the reason my life is ruined.”

“If you hate being with me so much, why don’t you just kill yourself?”

“Nobody else will love you the way I do.”

“Stop screaming. Somebody will hear you.”

“Did you just try to hit me?”

“You know I love you, right? That’s why I’m doing this to you.”

“If someone asks what happened, what do you tell them?”

[inxabyssalxdespair]

@bxredxmbrxke​

“Hey… Junko?” Words cut through the tense night air with a LETHAL PRECISION. Mukuro wasn’t one for words. And Junko liked two things: Her own voice. And the screams and cries that made up the SWEET MELODY OF DESPAIR. However, their louder nights had… grown few and far between ever since Mukuro betrayal during the KILLING SCHOOL LIFE. “Do you remember when you asked me… What else there is to me wanting to have sex with you, if not PURELY for the fact that you’re attractive?” Mukuro hadn’t the nerve at the time to ANSWER. But now she knew EXACTLY how she wanted to respond. And,, it’d be curious to see Junko’s reply. “Umm… Okay. Let me ask you this: Why do you always want ME to be involved in all of your Ultimate Despair plots?” (Did? Was it DID? The duo still hadn’t fully cleared the air – Why else do you think it was so THICK tonight.) “It can’t be just because I’m the Ultimate Soldier. There’s a lot of healthy candidates if you’re just looking for some MUSCLE. You could’ve brainwashed Sakura, or Pekoyama, or Akane, or Nekomaru, or any given elite within Fenrir. And you had Izuru Kamukura. And not even I could hope to put up a fight against him. So… Why is it?” (Was? God, she hoped it was anything but WAS.)

                                                                                                                         “Please answer honestly…”

[fgoxicons]

          “Whadd’ya want, dumb-ass?” Why was this conversation even happening? Why couldn’t she just cut the bitch out? Or better yet, why couldn’t the two of ‘em just go back to how shit USED TO BE? Ya know, before her big sis developed STUPID “feelings” for that lame-ass loser Makoto. Before she decided she needed “friends” — Truth is, Mukuro was EVERYTHING to Junko & there had been a time it had felt…RECIPROCATED. Perhaps she’d deluded herself into thinking it was — Perhaps her twin had never actually felt that way toward her? Maybe their bond was all just a BIG FAT FUCKING LIE!? Chest tightened painfully at the thought. Like there was someone squeezing the very life outta her heart. Wasn’t the fun kind a’ despair. Hell, this wasn’t despair at all. This was something Junko liked to call…DISAPPOINTMENT. “Duh, I remember! We’re not all morons here!” Eidetic memory had made it virtually impossible for the analytical fashionista to forget anything — Even the things she wanted to. (Including her sister). To this day, the girl could recall (in vivid detail) taking her FIRST BREATH after being pushed outta their mother’s crusty vagina! Was in that moment, being birthed into this HOPE-FUELED CESSPOOL of boredom, that Junko regretted being born at all! 

          Next question left her GENUINELY STUMPED — “What’s any a’ this gotta do with fucking each other?” Emotionally inept psychopath had never tied affection to the act of intercourse. So she couldn’t really understand what the heck Mukuro was gettin’ at! “I dunnoooo! Guess, cuz, like, I friggin’ wanted to?” (WANTED; Past tense). “Prolly shoulda’ just brainwashed ‘em! They woulda been way more loooy-aal.” HUH? Her own words STRUCK A NERVE Junko wasn’t even aware she had — Chaos ricocheting off the insides of her skull was all coming together & starting to make some sense. “If ya want me ta be honest, I think that’s why! Cuz, like, I coulda totally had an army of brainwashed bee-otches! Who just did whatever the fuck I wanted cuz I said so! But it wouldn’t be REEEEAL. Ya know? Guess ya weren’t real either, thooooough.” Shrug of emaciated shoulders & a roll of faux-blue eyes while she began looking over her nails. As if the bomb she’d just dropped hadn’t COMPLETELY SHATTERED her sister’s world. 

[inxabyssalxdespair]

                                                                               FLINCH.

Harsh words lacerated in the most CONFLICTING of ways. Mukuro preferred, no... She NEEDED for Junko’s insults to be far more visceral and toxic than they’d ever been before. She needed to HURT -- TO BLEED -- Cause anything LESS than that, well... Well, in all honesty, the Ultimate Soldier just couldn’t QUITE convince herself that her baby sister meant them... ‘DUMBASS’, for example, seemed kind of tame. No, in fact, it WAS TAME. But was it TOO TAME? Fuck. She couldn’t TELL. And thus, therein, the conflict lay. If only Junko had called her a WASTE OF SKIN! O-Or--Or... Or a SINGLE-CELLED BRAINDEAD NEANDERTHAL!! There’d be no disputing that Junko had chosen such words to WOUND -- To bring DESPAIR. Ergo: JUNKO. STILL. CARED. Instead, Junko might just have not given a damn anymore. And words once intended to hurt her sister, had now become truths that lumped Mukuro in with the REST OF SOCIETY. A society Junko had never once so much as been able to gather up an OUNCE of shit for. Still, a small smile graced that hard-angled jawline. Whether born of HOPE OR DENIAL OR DELUSION, remained to be seen... “True. You are leagues ahead of my intellectual comprehension.” Something STUNG about such conformity: The ECHOES OF MELANCHOLY for the good ol’ days... DAYS LONG PAST. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to literally question your memory or intelligence. I merely intended to segue into the topic at hand.”

Aaaaand the TOPIC AT HAND didn’t seem to be making this talk any EASIER. Lashings like that of a NINE-TAILS cracked their way through Mukuro’s body and bones, scarring up her very SOUL, not to mention her SENSE OF SELF & SELF-WORTH. Junko definitely still harbored her fair share of volatile despisal. In more than a few ways, Mukuro -- TO THIS VERY DAY -- Had yet to truly understand WHY, however. Despair had been all Junko had EVER claimed to want in life. ...Had she not done that? -- HOW HAD SHE NOT DONE THAT?! “Just please answer the question...” Words floated... Weightless in the pensive midnight air. Barely croaked from the paralytic throat of the single most NATURAL DANGER in all of human history. Sure, her sister proved smarter. And would pose a greater, MORE RUINOUS, threat than Mukuro ever could. And Izuru Kamukura would forever be bred to be BETTER than ANYONE. But... But that was just it... Junko had a mind for chaos. But not the BODY. And Izuru’s body had been GOD-GIVEN. God, in this case, being MAN. But Mukuro? The kind of physical monster she proved, continuously, to be, had been dictated at that same moment of birth Junko claimed so stubbornly to REGRET. In fact, one could very easily argue that the traits split collectively across both sisters, had they been born a singular entity, may just have proved to be the very thing HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY had been so HOPING to forge. No further fight came forth. She couldn’t. In fear that it could only get WORSE. So instead, she took her licks, and awaited for the diatribe to reach its VISCERAL CRESCENDO. Only...

                                                                                                     “WAIT, WHAT?!”                                                                           IT DIDN’T...                                                                                                                      “WHAT... THE...?!”

Fists balled up tight, knuckles glowing like bleached bone bared from flesh itself. The kind of purlescent white that populated this GODFORSAKEN EARTH with IVORY POACHERS. “What the Hell do you mean by REAL?!” Seriously. Words weren’t spoken in FURY. No. No. No. Mukuro wasn’t FURIOUS. Mukuro was just... LOST. Real? How could what had been BEFORE Junko made an attempt on her life have been any more REAL?! HOW DID SHE FUCK IT UP?! What had Mukuro done to prove her loyalty and dedication FAKE -- So fake that her own goddamn sister attempted to BRUTALLY MURDER HER?! “Don’t you fucking say that and just look at your nails!!” Rare aggression from elder to younger sister. One hand pressuring at Junko’s UNHEALTHILY THIN shoulder, twirling the evil genius back to FACE HER. “Leave your goddamn nails alone and LOOK AT ME!!” Pale lilacs met fake seas -- HARDENED IN CONVICTION. “Where did it all go wrong? When did I lose your faith? Why did you try to kill me? If you wanted something REAL?! Why did you try so hard to get RID OF ME?! After everything I did -- You really think that not a SINGLE SOLITARY SECOND of it was REAL?!” Mukuro was shaking now, looking down... The rain had started to fall... But it was her TEARS making the most prominent marks upon their shared roof top. “I thought we WERE real... I-I thought... I thought I was the ONE PERSON you wanted to KEEP AROUND... Guess you’re not the only one who feared they’d got it WRONG...” Lilacs refused to meet that gaze she’d so violently DEMANDED that moment just before... “And yeah...” Weak voice trembled. “That about covers it...”

. . .

                                                                                                                          ...Weak voice DIED.

[assortedrpmemes]

Thought-Provoking Headcanon Meme

Send a symbol and I’ll answer the question about my muse. (Or answer in character. Whatever works for you!)

⛔️ - How does your muse react to others breaking the law? If they would do it themselves, what is their reasoning? 🚑 - If your muse was the only person around and someone was injured, would they help? Would they have the experience needed? 💸 - What does your muse think of wealthy people? Do they resent them, or do they believe they earned what they have? 🆘 - What does your muse think of poor people? Do they think they’re a waste of space, or do they want to help them? 📩 - Does your muse prefer to physically write letters or send them online? What is their reasoning? 📢 - Does your muse have a loud personality or a quiet one? Do they enjoy being the center of attention, or would they rather watch and listen? 📊 - How does your muse feel about the state of the world? Could it be better? Could it be worse? 👨 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their father? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👩 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their mother? Is it good, bad, or complicated? 👧 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their siblings? Who do they get along with best? 👶 - If they have any, what is your muse’s relationship like with their children? Do they feel like they’re a good parent? 👻 - Does your muse believe in an afterlife? What do they think it’s like? ⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time? ⌛️ - How often does your muse think about death? Do they think about it at all? 🔗 - What are your muse’s standards for meaningful relationships? How quickly do they form relationships like these? 🚹 - How would your muse react to losing their father? How would they cope? 🚺 - How would your muse react to losing their mother? How would they cope? 🚼 - How would your muse react to losing a child? How would they cope? 💧 - How would your muse react to losing a best friend? How would they cope? 💔 - How would your muse react to losing a romantic partner? How would they cope? 🐜 - How does your muse feel about animal lives? Do they treat them the same way they’d treat a person, or do they feel they’re inferior? 🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it? 🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel? 💋 - How does your muse feel about people who cheat? Do they see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral? 🌠 - Would your muse make a wish on a star? If so, what would they wish for? 🎁 - Does your muse celebrate their birthday? If yes, how do they celebrate? If no, why not? 🍟 - How does your muse feel about their body? Would they change it if they could? 💅 - How does your muse feel about gender roles? Do they conform to them, or do they play by their own rules? 🌺 - Does your muse have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

[starlitmemes]

A series of headcanon asks to delve more in-depth with what makes the muses tick! Questions range from the obscure to the obvious so as to dig further into a muse’s life and habits.

Be sure to specify muses for multi-muse blogs!

Coral Fragments: How well does your muse deal with stress? Do they do anything in particular to help them deal with it, and if so what do they do? 

Rosy Fog: What are their immediate views on romantic love?

Rosy Haze: Do they react well when they develop feelings for someone and if not why?

Rosy Touch: How do they show affection nonverbally? Are they likely to show affection with their words as well?

Apatite Chatter: Are they the friendly sort or do they prefer to let others start off interactions with them?

Apatite Tic: Does your muse have any sort of verbal tics or impediments?

Garnet Shadows: Is your muse apt to stab someone in the back in any way? If so, would they admit to doing so or would they lie to cover it up?

Garnet Shine: How devoted are they to their loved ones? Would this devotion delve into the obsessive side?

Garnet Core: What sorts of things would they be willing to do for friends? For family? For their significant other(s)?

Amethyst Terrors: Are their nights plagued with past memories or nightmares in general? What do they usually entail if so?

Amethyst Calm: How do they usually sleep, in what position? Do they like plenty of pillows, blankets and/or plush toys?

Makeshift Stone: What does their internet search history usually include? Are there any parts of their searches that they’re embarrassed by?

Cracked Cement: Are they adept at using technology of any kind or do they typically need help with it?

Brickwork Shadows: Is your muse good with their hands, or do they tend to be fairly clumsy?

Sapphire Depths: Do they prefer to think ahead or to leap right in and wing things?

Sapphire Beacon: What kinds of things inspire your muse and does your muse tend to inspire others?

Selenite Pillars: Does your muse think they’re mentally or physically strong? Is this belief true or only something the muse believes to be true?

Aventurine Calling: Do they believe in luck? If so, would they consider themselves lucky or unlucky?

Fluorite Cloud: If they had the opportunity, would they prefer to know what’s going to happen in the future or not? Why?

Fluorite Bearings: How strongly do they listen to their intuition? Is their intuition usually correct or incorrect?

Peridot Ghosts: What kind of things get them frazzled or anxious? Do they tend to handle them well or get swept up in the moment?

Moonstone Luster: Are there are any items they own that have sentimental value to them?

Diamond Kiss: What kind of clothing and accessories do they prefer to wear? Are there are any particular reasons outside of general comfort that they like wearing these?

Coal Dust: Can they withstand manual labor? Do they avoid manual labor as much as possible, and if so, why?

Prehnite Memory: How good is their memory? Has it always been like this or did something happen to make it this way?

Bismuth Hue: Are they sickly or get sick often?

Bismuth Aid: What sort of medication, if any do they have to take, if any? Do they refuse to take it, forget to take it, or do they prefer to keep on it?

Quartz Cluster: What kind of textures (e.g. silky, rough, slick, etc) do they prefer?

Jade Ambition: How ambitious is your muse and what are their current goals? To what ends will they go to to make those wishes a reality?

Jade Gain: How well do they manage their money?

Amazonite Comfort: What sorts of things bring your muse comfort in trying times? Are there any habits they have when things get difficult to help cope?

Amazonite Shade: Are they pessimistic, optimistic or somewhere in the middle? Was there anything that happened to them in their life that caused them to think in this way?

Topaz Storm: Is your muse the creative type in any way? How do they usually express their creativity?

Topaz Tears: Do they have any sort of outlet they use as a means to cope (e.g. writing, drawing, playing music, etc.)? How’d they get into it if they do?

Topaz Calling: Do they have anything that they have natural talent in? If so do they enjoy doing it or is it something they tend to forget about?

Ruby Craze: Are they a passionate person or do they tend to be more down-to-earth?

Ruby Light: Are they the sort to wear their heart on the sleeve? If not, why?

Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time?

Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?

Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts/daydreams?

[dangerous-pastime]

A SERIES OF HEADCANON PROMPTS INSPIRED BY DISNEY MOVIES

Hercules - Is your muse more physically strong, or emotionally strong? 

Cinderella - Did your muse experience any childhood traumas? Did they overcome them?

Bambi - What is your muse’s relationship with their parents like?

Pinocchio - How honest is your muse? What is their moral stance on white lies?

Fantasia - Does your muse believe in magic? What is their view on it?

Dumbo - Has your muse ever been bullied for a physical difference?

Mulan - Is your muse secure in their gender identity? Have they ever experienced sexism or transphobia?

Aladdin - If your muse had 3 wishes, what would they wish for?

Zootopia - Would your muse enjoy living in a utopia, or would they feel out of place?

Tarzan - How did the place your muse grew up in affect them?

Moana - Does your muse believe in fate or destiny? What is theirs?

Atlantis - Is your muse adventurous or do they prefer to seclude themselves?

101 Dalmatians - Does your muse have a large collection of any particular thing?

Frozen - What is your muse’s relationship with their siblings like?

Beauty and the Beast - How has your muse changed as a person over their life? Have they changed for the better or for worse?

Sleeping Beauty - What is the worst possible curse your muse could face?

Pocahontas - How does your muse deal with being exposed to unfamiliar cultures? Are they open and accepting?

The Jungle Book - Is your muse happy living off of the bare necessities, or do they need more in life?

Oliver and Company - Is your muse more street smart or book smart?

The Hunchback of Notre Dame - What is your muse’s religious beliefs? Have they ever experienced oppression at the hands of religion?

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs - How trusting of strangers is your muse? Would they accept a gift from a stranger?

The Princess and the Frog - Would your muse accept someone else’s help in fulfilling their dreams, or would they want to earn it for themself?

The Emperor’s New Groove - What animal would you associate your muse with? Why?

The Lion King - Is your muse prepared for the responsibilities laid out for them in life?

The Little Mermaid - Would your muse change themself for love, or would they wait to find someone who loves them for who they are?

Peter Pan - Is your muse a child at heart? What is their mental age or maturity?

Wreck-It Ralph - What does ‘being a winner’ mean to your muse?

Lilo & Stitch - Does your muse have any pets? Do they want any?

Lady and the Tramp - What are your muses romantic standards? Would they ever fall for someone of a lower class?

Alice in Wonderland - What does your muse often dream of? Do they have strange dreams? Pleasant ones? Nightmares?

[caeboa]

A pair for despair.

Since it’s Junko and Mukuro’s birthday on the 24th, here they are, here to cause all sorts of trouble.

[asaihara]

[fgoxicons]

@inxabyssalxdespair​ | VIOLENT MEME

                                                     “Oooooooh! Bay-Beeeee!” 

          Junko Enoshima wasn’t A FUCKING MORON — In faaaact, there was a very real possibility that she was the most intelligent being to ever grace this godforsaken planet! ANALYTICAL PROWESS made her quick to pick up on, memorize, & manipulate behaviors — She was more than aware, that when the NEANDERTHAL of a girl, Ibuki Mioda, BIT HER, it wasn’t intended as a sexual advance! Oh, no, no, no! The crazy bee–atch actually wanted to sink those canines in & do some serious damage! Unfortunately for her, the agent of DESPAIR got off on that kinda shit! Addiction to CHAOS would forever be the genius’ UNDOING! Extending her throat, she gave the feral bitch access to her jugular! She could rip it wide open if she wanted! Swollen clit THROBBED & TINGLED with anticipation — What a wonderful way to go! “Oh Em Geeeeee! Straight past the foreplay and in ta the juicy stuff!? Hells yeah! HARDEEER!!!” 

[inxabyssalxdespair]

Ibuki hadn’t counted on Junko Enoshima ENJOYING the way teeth attempted to RIP FLESH CLEAN FROM BONE. She was just SERIOUSLY PISSED with the blonde bitch upon learning from Mitarai that Mikan had been BRAINWASHED. (Well, she’d known that SOMETHING WAS UP with her bestie, but now she knew WHY IT WAS UP.) A growl resonated in her throat as Junko whined out in pain -- IN PLEASURE -- And straight up invited her to do MORE. Offering up her pulse point; Wanting her to bite her HARDER -- FLIRTING WITH HER. Ibuki shook with anger and wrapped hands around Junko’s bared throat, crashing her into the stage and SQUEEZING FOR DEAR LIFE. (Ironically.) “Wha’ do I need ta do to make ya NOT ENJOY LIFE?!” Rage trembled through manic veins. Ibuki was a powderkeg headcase at the BEST of times. But it was rare to see Ibuki actually have a violent bone in her frail body. Then again, Mikan had been the CLOSEST THING TO HOME that Ibuki had ever felt. And now she was GONE -- Twisted beyond any kind of recognition. All because of THIS BITCH!! “Ibuki ain’t doin’ this for YOU, you psycho! Psycho! Psycho! Psycho! Psycho! PSYCHO!! Ibuki wants you to take back what ya did to her friend and then DISAPPEAR OUTTA EXISTENCE!!” Ibuki’s brain had skipped a few beats at some point. Everything had sort’ve blurred outside of her words. She couldn’t feel her hands anymore. Was she still strangling the CUNT BITCH? Had she relinquished hold? Or had Junko wriggled free? Too much to think about. She was ANGRY!!

[fgoxicons]

inxabyssalxdespair :

There really wasn’t any two ways about this… Mukuro had been TERRIFIED. The girl had left home at twelve. Slept rough in the worst kind of middle eastern NIGHTMARES. Had a wolf tattooed on the back of her hand. And traversed three years of battlefields, healing more wounds than she’d ever taken. And fighting back against IMPOSSIBLE ODDS, on more than one occasion. Hell, the very reason she rose through the ranks so quickly had been because she’d often return a SOLE SURVIVOR from the mercenary band’s more SUICIDAL missions. Point was: None of that shook her. Not even a little bit. But THIS? This had Mukuro feeling like an atomic bomb had just gone off right in her very core. Left her TREMBLING, SICK TO HER STOMACH & FEELING LIKE HER ENTIRE LIFE WAS SLOWLY MELTING AWAY. – WHY? Because Junko Enoshima had always been her EVERYTHING & MORE. The core principal and direction of her life. She’d kill for the girl – HAD KILLED FOR THE GIRL – And had been a key accessory to helping trigger the APOCALYPSE. She’d been so prepared to LIVE & DIE by her sister’s SIDE, but she had never once expected to LIVE & DIE by her sister’s HAND.

Did it really count for nothing? All her servitude? Everything she’d given up and done for her baby sister? Was all that despair STILL not enough? Why did her sister have to MURDER HER like she’d MURDERED THEIR PARENTS?! (Because she wasn’t bringing Junko enough despair in LIFE.) And why the hell did a nobody loser like Makoto Naegi need to SAVE HER LIFE? Why was he so KIND to her? Why couldn’t he just JOIN THE ULTIMATE DESPAIR? Why did he have to be the counterbalance to everything her sister stood for? And why did THEY have to choose her side for her? How was she supposed to sacrifice Makoto after everything that had happened? To kill the boy who had saved her life and entrust her sister once more with her SPINE? She’d be lining herself back up like a LAMB to the SLAUGHTER – SO SHE HADN’T. Rather, she chose to push forward in her denial. Rushed headstrong into a boy who had eyes elsewhere. And left nothing but REMNANTS of her sister’s plan in her wake. No surprise then, that she honestly wasn’t holding her breath that Junko would at all SHOW. And breathed the heaviest kind of relief once she heard those oh-so-familiar voices. In a way, each of Junko’s personalities were like INDIVIDUAL FAMILY MEMBERS to her. So distinct and unique. She’d missed hearing them… Missed hearing JUNKO.

                                                                                                     FUCK.                                                                                              (HER HEART HURT.)

Brow knitted in INSTANT AGONY when Junko called her a LEECH, claimed she’d been so glad to finally have her OUT OF HER LIFE. But it wasn’t an UNWELCOME AGONY. Again, Mukuro had MISSED THIS – SO FUCKING MUCH. And the fact that Junko was even wanting to bring her DESPAIR right now. To make her feel such DEBILITATING SELF-LOATHING, WORTHLESSNESS AND REGRET. Well, there was a topsy-turvy COMFORT in that, that only aspects of DESPAIR would ever truly understand. And despite her ever-softening heart, Mukuro Ikusaba was, never-the-less, an aspect of despair. Plus… “I don’t recall asking you–…” HARSH SWALLOW. Such a strange sensation: Feeling her hands tremble that is. Again, in all her life, fear – ANXIETY – Was not something that came easy. That tremble of her hand right now? It felt foreign – ALIEN. And yet it was the only evidence that Mukuro Ikusaba was even human at all. “Thank you for coming…” Voice had a certain lilt to it, too. The self-same weakness that had echoed through that infirmary on the day… ON THE DAY SHE BROKE HER OWN SISTER’S HEART. “I kept my promise… I saved Makoto’s life. I put a stop to your plans. I… I hope I brought you despair… I hope I proved that I can still be USEFUL. That I can bring you more despair in LIFE than I would in DEATH…”

Had that really been all that this had been about? It was true, Mukuro had been hiding out with the Future Foundation. Mukuro may have saved Makoto and found a loophole in the KILLING GAME. But the damage – THEIR DAMAGE – Had already rendered the world irreparable. And with Mukuro also ensuring that JUNKO lived to fight another day. So, too, had she consciously chosen to further expand the army of DESPAIR. “I never said I liked him more than I liked you… It’s, umm… Complicated… I-I’m sorry… D-Did I… Do something wrong?” JUNKO was the one who originally went off script. Betrayed the rehearsal. ATTEMPTED TO DESTROY MUKURO. No amount of denial by this point could hide that fact. “If you don’t need me then why are you here?” A harsh question, but one that cut straight to the matter at hand. PROVIDED Junko had been truly meaning all of her words right now, then… Then she wouldn’t be here at all. Or she’d walk away this instant and never again look back. But Junko wasnt the type to do things HALFWAY. So she’d never have come back just to leave again of her own free will. It’d be INEFFICIENT. Unless secretly some small oasis of hope existed within her sister that just SHOWING UP would lead to Mukuro saying something that would then MAKE HER WANT TO STAY. “Hm. If you really were done with me, you’d never have cared enough to meet me here. And if I was truly done with you, I wouldn’t have asked.”

                                                                They were SISTERS.                                                                                          REMNANTS OF DESPAIR.                                     (AND MAYBE MORE THAN THAT.)                                                     And they were OH-SO-FAR from EVER being OVER. 

                             THUD. CLACK. THUD. CLACK. THUD.

          Heels of designer boots crashed across corroded brick — Over & over & over again! Harder & faster with each word that tumbled past her big sister’s thin lips & traitorous tongue. Undoubtedly scuffing leather. If it were any other day, Junko mighta BITCHED about it — Mighta demanded that Mukuro buy her a new pair! This was HER FAULT after all! Fat. Stupid. Ugly—”Oh my friggin’ gaaaaawd. Don’t flatter yerseeelf! Not like I came for yer rank ass!” (Why else?) — “Seriously! After all this time, ya still don’t know how ta take a friggin’ bath!? Surprised yer STENCH isn’t, like, what lit this damn city on fiy-er!” Why was she even bothering to deliver her sister into EXHILARATING DESPAIR? Did she want to hurt the soldier? Did that mean she still loved her? Or was she just falling back into the same ol’ same ROUTINE? “S’cuse meeee?” 

                                       BITCH. HAD. SOME. NERVE.

          “Uuuugh! Shut the fuck up!” With that, Junko had SNAPPED & tossed Monokuma to the side — She couldn’t believe her big sister was JUSTIFYING her betrayal! & Worse, claiming that she didn’t like Makoto more than her? BOLD-FACED LIE! If she hadn’t liked the lame-o more than her, then miss prissy-pants woulda killed the asshole on the spot! EZ PZ! She’d given her an ultimatum & Mukuro had made her decision! That was all the PROOF the younger sibling needed! “That is such complete and total BULLSHIT! And we both know it!” Pushing herself into a standing position, the fashionista wobbled recklessly on the edge — Part of her (ironically) HOPING that she would trip & fall & plummet to her death! What a sweet release from this hideous world it would be! A world she was never meant to be a part of. A world that had never WANTED HER. A world where someone like her didn’t…FIT. The last puzzle-piece that you try & try to SMASH IN. Until you realize it belongs to a different puzzle altogether! 

          “Complah–cate–ehd? Ya gotta be friggin’ kiddin’ me!” There was no LAUGHTER in her tone — Only a cold & bitter emptiness. Lips curved down into a frown, as she started across the roof in her twin sis’ direction — Palms flattened & VIOLENTLY CRASHED into the other’s emaciated collar. Shoving her back until shoulder-blades collided with the wall behind her. SCRAPING & BRUISING on impact. “Like, ya think I’m THAT stupid? Seriously? Y’gotta like him more than ya like me! Else why’d ya not just kill his ass? Like, it woulda been soooooo easy! Guy was barely even breathing. Coulda just let him bleed out! You’ve killed like, five zillion people for me, for fuck’s sake! What’s so special about HIM?” Yeah, she was definitely sounding like some pathetic, JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND. Ugh! Her body was trembling against her will — Long sharp blood-tipped daggers she called nails SHOVELING into her sister’s shoulders. Excavating for BLOOD. Feeling sticky crimson pool. 

          “What’s it about him, huh? What’s that lame ass loser got that I don’t got!? Huh!? Huh!? Huh!? Answer me damn it!” Voice heightened & quavered AGGRESSIVELY — Heart hammering painfully against eardrums. Blood THUNDERING through veins. & The scariest part of it all? Junko hadn’t used any of her “moods” in the last minute — This was just HER. All of the pent up & confusing emotions. Bursting out in a wave of…WHAT—EVER! She couldn’t even begin to TRY to understand it! “Stop usin’ logic and shit! I didn’t wanna see you again!” LIAR. They both knew Mukuro was right. If she hadn’t wanted to see the girl again…She wouldn’t fucking be here. She coulda been off doing any other number of things! Truth was, she’d…MISSED HER. Ugh. Gross. Even just thinking something so damn sappy made her wanna slice her own belly open, rip out her fucking intestines & HANG HERSELF with ‘em! 

                       “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” 

[inxabyssalxdespair]

Man, in her current state, Mukuro may have finally been getting a taste of what it truly meant to be NORMAL. Thus far, as the ULTIMATE SOLDIER, her life had been defined by FULL METAL JACKETS, AN IRON WILL, AND NERVES OF STEEL. Now, hypersensitive, war-honed, hearing, had her heart thumping against her rib cage at every last clack of boot against brick. Felt like any second could be her final one. “Then why DID you come?” Thank GOD for those insults. Ironically, the more Junko lashed her with that cruel whip of a SNAKE TONGUE (in both the literal and metaphorical sense), the more those thuds of anxieties slowly twisted over into thuds of... EXCITEMENT. “I DO bathe...” Did raise another question entirely, however: If Mukuro was still bathing as much as ever, AND was now going on several weeks without actually committing a MURDER, then why the Hell WAS she still stinking? Or maybe she’d never stank at all, and this was all just another ploy by Junko: A LIE TO INCITE DESPAIR. “I don’t think it’s physically possible to light an entire city on fire with one woman’s atrociously rank stench.” Would such wording TRIGGER her sister? If so, it wasn’t Mukuro’s inten--

                                                                                                               -----WELP...

SOMETHING triggered her alright, but it had NOTHING to do with the choice phrasing. (Though maybe that storm was still PENDING.) Instead, Junko had screamed and tossed Monokuma away, and in doing so... That once ensaring dreadroot had ONCE AGAIN coiled around every aspect of Mukuro’s exist. Was it possible to STRANGLE A HEART? Cause it damn sure seemed as if that was happening. “W-Wait, b-bullshit?” And all over again, Mukuro Ikusaba -- THE ULTIMATE SOLDIER, AND THE GUN USED BY JUNKO ENOSHIMA TO END THE ENTIRE WORLD -- Had found herself reduced to a quivering mess of cold feet, guilt, fear, self-loathing, tears, and anxiety. “Uh-, Uhm--... I’m... I-I’m sorry...” Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. SORRY. SORRY. SORRY. That word played on repeat in Mukuro’s mind, brain obsessed in equal parts MEANING and CONTEXT. ...Why... WAS Mukuro apologizing? Like, she KNEW, of course she KNEW, like, it made perfect sense. She’d made a mistake in believing that destroying Junko Enoshima’s plan would bring her DESPAIR and make her HAPPY. But... Therein lay the ANOMALY. It all made SENSE. Rational. Rational. Cognitive. Rational. Logical. Logical. SENSE. Such emotions were the kind of emotions that she’d attach to ANYONE BUT JUNKO ENOSHIMA. After all, Junko had wanted to murder her to bring her despair... Right? ...W-Wasn’t this the same thing?

“I-I promise it’s not bullshit. I promise!! It’s just like when you made an attempt on my life!! You wanted to bring ME despair!! The despair of being murdered by my very own sister!! I didn’t get it then. But I learned a valuable lesson!! And I PROMISED YOU I’d do it properly this time!!” Body shook and one gloved hand reached over to wring round her opposing wrist -- STEADYING HERSELF. Or, at least, that’s what COULD have happened had palms not CRASHED into her collar and--... The world became STILL. Mukuro Ikusaba now had to face two very real realities. The first? That her own sister had triggered her FIGHT OR FLIGHT instinct. That Mukuro Ikusaba, in this very moment, had a flash of doubt, that maybe, just maybe, Junko Enoshima would MAKE THAT NEXT ATTEMPT ON HER LIFE. And had went into full survivor mode. The second? Well... The second came in an absence of response. Here Mukuro was, ready to be crashed into concrete by her PSYCHOTIC SISTER. One, whom, had a HISTORY of trying to murder her. And now had the BIGGEST MOTIVE OF ALL. After all: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned. And how did the Ultimate Soldier, who had always been the physically superior of the two -- WHO HAD DEFTLY REPELLED MULTIPLE ATTEMPTS ON HER LIFE FROM THE OTHER IN THE PAST WITH NARY A SCRATCH AND NON-LETHAL TACTICS -- Respond to such a threat? She... Did... NOTHING. Not a SINGLE GODDAMN THING. Almost as if, no... EXACTLY as if Mukuro had accepted judgment from her jury of one. And if that meant EXECUTION, well... Maybe then she’d finally do something RIGHT for once.

                                                                                                         CRASH!!

Time kickstarted all over again, and Mukuro whimpered out in pain as shoulder blades scraped against concrete -- SURE TO DRAW BLOOD. And, oh... Oh... Oh, if only blood on her shoulders had been the LEAST of her problems and pains. ...If only Junko Enoshima HAD tortured her to death -- EXECUTED HER. Because the questions that followed cut deeper than even the most vile of horror movie ends. “I-, I--...” Tears -- TEARS -- Pricked at the corners of pale lilac eyes. Hands had raised up as if in SURRENDER. Still trembling, they’d made at least ONE THING clear: Mukuro was not going to fight back. Not tonight. Not if she could help it... “I’m sorry... I just... He... He-- PHSS, ARGHH!!” Nails burrowed themselves into Mukuro’s shoulders. But fight or flight dulled any PLEASURABLE SENSATIONS such a fantastical scene could bring. Keyword: Dulled. Her feet still shuffled in the slightest way, making thighs SUBCONSCIOUSLY BRUSH. Mukuro had long DREAMED about such scenarios as this. But they’d all been with the idea that Junko had ACTUALLY WANTED to bring her older sister that beautiful sense of SEXUAL PAIN. Something told her this wasn’t that. “He-, He--... He hasn’t got ANYTHING that you haven’t got, Junko!!” Girl had gotten ever more battering in her harsh storm winds. Tossing big sister’s emotions from PILLAR TO POST.

“It... It has n-nothing... NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT EITHER OF YOU HAVE!!” Scream out signalled a breakage in Mukuro’s sanity. “You tried to kill me!! He saved my life!! No matter how much PAIN I went through in the name of DESPAIR, I could never ONCE feel the weight in your smile being placed their by ME. And yet, he smiled at me JUST FOR SURVIVING!! THAT’S IT! THA’TS IT! THAT’S IT! THAT’S IT!!” She screamed those words, again and again, like a CHANT. “I just wanted for one second to feel like my existence made a DIFFERENCE to someone else!!” And honestly, that truly was the ROOT & STEM of all of this. Mukuro didn’t LOVE Makoto. She just loved the way he treated her when life and limb were at stake. Conscious mind new that if Junko would ever CARE ENOUGH to value Mukuro’s life over the despair that taking it would bring. Then, with zero doubt or hesitation, Mukuro would be back by Junko’s side. In her lap. FIGHTING HER WARS. But... That just wasn’t how Junko worked... OR SO SHE CLAIMED... “Then why DID you come?!” The first question asked, and the last one raised. What happened NEXT would depend entirely on her ever-breaking sister’s response...

                                                                                                           “...Can you FINALLY tell me that?!”

[recaption]

[inxabyssalxdespair]

@bxredxmbrxke​

“Hey... Junko?” Words cut through the tense night air with a LETHAL PRECISION. Mukuro wasn’t one for words. And Junko liked two things: Her own voice. And the screams and cries that made up the SWEET MELODY OF DESPAIR. However, their louder nights had... grown few and far between ever since Mukuro betrayal during the KILLING SCHOOL LIFE. “Do you remember when you asked me... What else there is to me wanting to have sex with you, if not PURELY for the fact that you’re attractive?” Mukuro hadn’t the nerve at the time to ANSWER. But now she knew EXACTLY how she wanted to respond. And,, it’d be curious to see Junko’s reply. “Umm... Okay. Let me ask you this: Why do you always want ME to be involved in all of your Ultimate Despair plots?” (Did? Was it DID? The duo still hadn’t fully cleared the air -- Why else do you think it was so THICK tonight.) “It can’t be just because I’m the Ultimate Soldier. There’s a lot of healthy candidates if you’re just looking for some MUSCLE. You could’ve brainwashed Sakura, or Pekoyama, or Akane, or Nekomaru, or any given elite within Fenrir. And you had Izuru Kamukura. And not even I could hope to put up a fight against him. So... Why is it?” (Was? God, she hoped it was anything but WAS.)

                                                                                                                         “Please answer honestly...”

[inxabyssalxdespair]

bxredxmbrxke said: @Mukuro, who would you rather see naked? Makoto or Junko?

@bxredxmbrxke​

Questions like this almost seemed like a... TRAP... To Mukuro. She wasn’t sure why because, well, who even asked her these questions APART from herself? (Junko... But we’ll get to her in just a second.) First Mukuro had to tackle what that ever-organized, clinically precise mind she liked to believe was her own called: PROBLEM A. She was in massive denial and bordered on insane, not to mention LAUGHABLY DELUSIONAL, when it came to the concept of LOVE, LUST. CODEPENDENCY, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, EMOTIONS TO BEGIN WITH & HER OWN INDIVIDUAL NEEDS. Lately, she’d found herself living in this proposed reality where she had feelings for Makoto that surpassed the boundaries of friendly affection. Because even during her time with Fenrir, Mukuro lived a KILL OR BE KILLED mentality: SURVIVAL INSTINCT AT ITS PURIST. In all honesty, the only human she ever thought she might just be able to trust... Had been JUNKO. But... then Junko attempted to take her life... And Makoto had saved her. Associative reasoning -- QUOTE. UNQUOTE. -- Had convinced her that maybe, JUST MAYBE, she could like Makoto like that, too. But... Welp... Now would probably be the time to rewind and deal with PROBLEM B, and that problem was:

ANY GIVEN TIME JUNKO HAS EVER ASKED THE QUESTION, ITS BEEN PAIRED WITH THE PROMISE OF SEX, AND THE ANSWER IS REALLY FUCKING OBVIOUS AND MUKURO SLEEPS WITH HER SISTER, THEN IS ALL THE MORE CONFUSED BECAUSE DOES JUNKO WANNA BE WITH HER OR NOT?! AND IF NOT DOES THAT MEAN JUNKO STILL WANTS HER DEAD?! AND HOW THE FUCK DOES SHE EITHER DISPLACE THE GUILT AND SEVER MAKOTO, CONVINCE MAKOTO TO JOIN THEM AND JUNKO TO BE OKAY WITH IT, OR GET JUNKO TO NOT SEE MAKOTO -- WHO WAS THE JOKER TO HER BATMAN -- AS AN ENEMY, AND NOT IMMEDIATELY WANT MUKURO TO MURDER HIM?!?!? AND ALSO WHY THE HELL DID SHE WANNA FUCK HER OWN SISTER  WHO CONSTANTLY PUT HER DOWN AND ATTEMPTED TO MURDER HER OVER THE GUY WHO SAVED HER LIFE AND WAS TRYING TO GIVE HER A NEW LEASE ON LIFE?!

Yeah. So to answer your question: It’s Junko. But Mukuro is a fucking psycho and I just can’t deal.

[melancholyoftruth]

Source: https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=14868720

※Permission was given from artist

[inxabyssalxdespair]

@bxredxmbrxke​​

Where did they go from here? Who did they become? Honestly. Mukuro just DIDN’T KNOW. One thing for sure: THEY WEREN’T ULTIMATE DESPAIR ANYMORE. Of all the relationships that Mukuro knew she’d have to burn in the flames of despair. Of all the bonds of loving affection she expected to BREAK APART AT THE SEAMS under the vindictive will of her PSYCHOPATHIC SISTER… Never would Mukuro have guessed that THEIR relationship would be at the very top of the list Mukuro would be mourning… This was all wrong… ALL WRONG. It wasn’t ever supposed to BE like this… They were SISTERS: ULTIMATE DESPAIR. Mukuro Ikusaba was ALL & EVERYTHING that Junko had left in the world and they’d planned on bringing an end to it TOGETHER. But something had changed… What had changed? And was it far beyond any chance of CHANGING IT BACK? She supposed all these questoins and more that filtered through war-hardened brain cells – FEW AS THEY MAY BE – Had been what brought her to the roof that started it all. That almost holy place where Mukuro, Junko and one Izuru Kamukura bore witness to The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History. Question was: WOULD HER SISTER SHOW, TOO?!

                                                                          “JUUUUUUUUUNKOOOOOOO!!”

It was a rare anomaly of emotion from the older twin… But you know what they say: Desperate times… Desperate–…

[fgoxicons]

                                               DISAPPOINTMENT. 

          Truth be told, it wasn’t until the very moment that her big sister chose that dull, HOPE-FILLED boy over her, that Junko realized just how INTEGRAL Mukuro was to her plan — No, not just her plan. (To her life). What was it about Makoto that made her sibling SWOON? Like some pitiful bitch outta a romcom. He was just some ordinary guy. Nothing special. He wasn’t HER. So, why couldn’t she just KILL HIS ASS? That was all the bottle-blonde had asked for! Just a teensy-weensy sign of LOYALTY! More importantly, why did Junko feel so…NUMB? It was like all the fun that came with ending the world POOFED AWAY with her sister. She fucking hated it! She hated that she was perched upon the edge of the rooftop, heels of her boots kicking away at brick as she watched the world BURN & CRUMBLE, & she couldn’t even crack a friggin’ smile! 

                                               HOW. ANNOYING. 

          Muscles tensed & tightened when she heard the familiar voice — Screaming out to her. (Rarity for Mukuro). Was she worried she was gonna jump? Cause she TOTES had thought about it! Or was this some PATHETICALLY DESPERATE attempt to prove she cared now? TOO. LATE. “Ugh. And just when I thought I gotcha outta my life forever! Ya really are like a friggin’ leech, huuuh?” Monokuma doll was held up to her toned abdomen & eyes were HOPELESS. (& Not in the typically pleasurable way). “Whatd’ya want? I gave ya yer stupid boyfriend! Go be happy with him or whatevs! Clear ya like him more than ya ever liked me!” Did she sound like a JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND right now? “Already told ya. I don’t NEED yer dumb-ass anymore!” 

[inxabyssalxdespair]

There really wasn’t any two ways about this... Mukuro had been TERRIFIED. The girl had left home at twelve. Slept rough in the worst kind of middle eastern NIGHTMARES. Had a wolf tattooed on the back of her hand. And traversed three years of battlefields, healing more wounds than she’d ever taken. And fighting back against IMPOSSIBLE ODDS, on more than one occasion. Hell, the very reason she rose through the ranks so quickly had been because she’d often return a SOLE SURVIVOR from the mercenary band’s more SUICIDAL missions. Point was: None of that shook her. Not even a little bit. But THIS? This had Mukuro feeling like an atomic bomb had just gone off right in her very core. Left her TREMBLING, SICK TO HER STOMACH & FEELING LIKE HER ENTIRE LIFE WAS SLOWLY MELTING AWAY. -- WHY? Because Junko Enoshima had always been her EVERYTHING & MORE. The core principal and direction of her life. She’d kill for the girl -- HAD KILLED FOR THE GIRL -- And had been a key accessory to helping trigger the APOCALYPSE. She’d been so prepared to LIVE & DIE by her sister’s SIDE, but she had never once expected to LIVE & DIE by her sister’s HAND.

Did it really count for nothing? All her servitude? Everything she’d given up and done for her baby sister? Was all that despair STILL not enough? Why did her sister have to MURDER HER like she’d MURDERED THEIR PARENTS?! (Because she wasn’t bringing Junko enough despair in LIFE.) And why the hell did a nobody loser like Makoto Naegi need to SAVE HER LIFE? Why was he so KIND to her? Why couldn’t he just JOIN THE ULTIMATE DESPAIR? Why did he have to be the counterbalance to everything her sister stood for? And why did THEY have to choose her side for her? How was she supposed to sacrifice Makoto after everything that had happened? To kill the boy who had saved her life and entrust her sister once more with her SPINE? She’d be lining herself back up like a LAMB to the SLAUGHTER -- SO SHE HADN’T. Rather, she chose to push forward in her denial. Rushed headstrong into a boy who had eyes elsewhere. And left nothing but REMNANTS of her sister’s plan in her wake. No surprise then, that she honestly wasn’t holding her breath that Junko would at all SHOW. And breathed the heaviest kind of relief once she heard those oh-so-familiar voices. In a way, each of Junko’s personalities were like INDIVIDUAL FAMILY MEMBERS to her. So distinct and unique. She’d missed hearing them... Missed hearing JUNKO.

                                                                                                     FUCK.                                                                                              (HER HEART HURT.)

Brow knitted in INSTANT AGONY when Junko called her a LEECH, claimed she’d been so glad to finally have her OUT OF HER LIFE. But it wasn’t an UNWELCOME AGONY. Again, Mukuro had MISSED THIS -- SO FUCKING MUCH. And the fact that Junko was even wanting to bring her DESPAIR right now. To make her feel such DEBILITATING SELF-LOATHING, WORTHLESSNESS AND REGRET. Well, there was a topsy-turvy COMFORT in that, that only aspects of DESPAIR would ever truly understand. And despite her ever-softening heart, Mukuro Ikusaba was, never-the-less, an aspect of despair. Plus... “I don’t recall asking you--...” HARSH SWALLOW. Such a strange sensation: Feeling her hands tremble that is. Again, in all her life, fear -- ANXIETY -- Was not something that came easy. That tremble of her hand right now? It felt foreign -- ALIEN. And yet it was the only evidence that Mukuro Ikusaba was even human at all. “Thank you for coming...” Voice had a certain lilt to it, too. The self-same weakness that had echoed through that infirmary on the day... ON THE DAY SHE BROKE HER OWN SISTER’S HEART. “I kept my promise... I saved Makoto’s life. I put a stop to your plans. I... I hope I brought you despair... I hope I proved that I can still be USEFUL. That I can bring you more despair in LIFE than I would in DEATH...”

Had that really been all that this had been about? It was true, Mukuro had been hiding out with the Future Foundation. Mukuro may have saved Makoto and found a loophole in the KILLING GAME. But the damage -- THEIR DAMAGE -- Had already rendered the world irreparable. And with Mukuro also ensuring that JUNKO lived to fight another day. So, too, had she consciously chosen to further expand the army of DESPAIR. “I never said I liked him more than I liked you... It’s, umm... Complicated... I-I’m sorry... D-Did I... Do something wrong?” JUNKO was the one who originally went off script. Betrayed the rehearsal. ATTEMPTED TO DESTROY MUKURO. No amount of denial by this point could hide that fact. “If you don’t need me then why are you here?” A harsh question, but one that cut straight to the matter at hand. PROVIDED Junko had been truly meaning all of her words right now, then... Then she wouldn’t be here at all. Or she’d walk away this instant and never again look back. But Junko wasnt the type to do things HALFWAY. So she’d never have come back just to leave again of her own free will. It’d be INEFFICIENT. Unless secretly some small oasis of hope existed within her sister that just SHOWING UP would lead to Mukuro saying something that would then MAKE HER WANT TO STAY. “Hm. If you really were done with me, you’d never have cared enough to meet me here. And if I was truly done with you, I wouldn’t have asked.”

                                                                They were SISTERS.                                                                                          REMNANTS OF DESPAIR.                                     (AND MAYBE MORE THAN THAT.)                                                     And they were OH-SO-FAR from EVER being OVER. 

[amourmemes]

❥     𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   .

another meme inspired by devotedecay’s format !     tw  for  violence, blood, mature themes. send  in  one  of  these  for  my  muse’s  reaction  to  … (  add  ❝  reverse  ❞   if  you’d  like  to  see  how  my  muse  would  preform  the  action  !  )

[ deck ]   your muse decking mine in the face.

[ punch ]   your muse punching mine anywhere / or specify.

[ pin ]   your muse forcibly pinning my muse beneath them.

[ straddle ]   your muse forcing mine to the ground and straddling them.

[ scratch ]   your muse raking mine with their nails / claws.

[ bite ]   your muse biting mine.

[ turn ]   your muse rolling from beneath to atop my muse.

[ wall ]   your muse pinning mine against a wall.

[ snarl ]   your muse snarling / growling at mine.

[ curse ]   your muse cursing at / cursing mine out.

[ tug ]   your muse gripping mine’s hair.

[ kick ]   your muse kicking mine anywhere / or specify.

[ point + gun ]   your muse holding mine at gun point.

[ point + knife ]   your muse holding mine at knife point.

[ mock ]   your muse mocking mine.

[ sweep ]   your muse knocking mine off their feet.

[ grab ]   your muse grabbing mine forcibly.

[ shoot ]   your muse shooting my muse anywhere / or specify.

[ stab ]   your muse stabbing my muse anywhere / or specify.

[ break ]   your muse breaking any of mine’s bones / or specify.

[ strangle ]   your muse choking mine out.

[ shove ]   your muse shoving mine forcibly.

[ bruise ]   your muse making mine bruise.

[ under ]   your muse shoving mine underwater.

[ attempt ]   your muse attempting to kill mine.

[ bare ]   your muse baring their teeth at mine.

[ threaten ]   your muse threatening mine.

[ spit ]   your muse making mine spit blood.

[ bleed ]   your muse making mine bleed.

[ burn ]   your muse burning mine.

[ corner ]   your muse cornering mine.

[ throat ]   your muse wrapping a hand around mine’s throat.

[ challenge ]   your muse challenging mine.

[ cut ]   your muse cutting mine.