Maybe Mukuro has short hair because Junko cut it all off in her sleep, just to see her face when she woke up in the morning

AU where Kirigiri is trying to solve this string of serial murders. She can’t find the culprit, which is driving her crazy, but when her father becomes a victim, she goes into overdrive. The case consumes her; it becomes an obsession.
Eventually she finds some evidence that the culprit went to high school with her. Desperate to solve the case and put her conflicted feelings about her father to rest, Kirigiri narrows the suspects down to Junko (who has a history of violent behavior and attempted murder). Kirigiri has her (and Mukuro, as an accomplice and someone experienced with killing) arrested.
I don’t know if you know anything about the Japanese justice system, but it has a very high confession rate thanks to brutal interrogation tactics. Usually Kirigiri detests this perversion of justice, but this case has driven her to her limit, so she essentially tortures the twins to get them to admit to the crimes.
It doesn’t exactly work. Mukuro stays stoic the whole time and Junko just can’t stop laughing. Eventually, Junko’s giggles subside long enough for her to tell Kirigiri “Sure, go ahead. Execute us.” Once Mukuro hears that, she agrees to the punishment as well.
The execution day arrives and the twins are woken up and hauled to where they’ll be hanged. Kirigiri, Ishimaru, and a few other government types (a few from their high school class, some not) are watching from behind the observation glass.
The twins remain mostly unperturbed by their impending deaths (Mukuro’s visibly agitated about Junko dying, but other than that they’re fine). Just before the final moment, Junko stares at Kirigiri and grins, shaking with laughter. She mouths “Sore wa chigau yo” and then is hanged.
(Junko dies instantly; Mukuro asphyxiates after several minutes because poor girl never gets a break.)
With that over, Kirigiri feels spent. She goes home feeling strangely empty and unsatisfied, despite her bloodthirsty rage having abated. Something feels wrong, and Junko’s final taunt bothers her.
A week after the execution, another murder occurs, identical to the previous ones, down to details no one but the killer and Kirigiri would know. It can’t be a copycat.
Meanwhile, the real culprit sits comfortably at a clean, orderly breakfast table, eating toast and reading the newspaper article about the twins’ execution.
Maizono likes the way the toast crunches between her teeth. It’s like a thousand tiny bones being ground into dust.

reminder to self: never draw wings again.
also, fuck shoes.
and sorry for the crappy background, I was tired as hell when I got to it.
edit: i forgot to mention, i drew this because @kirigiri-and-the-diamonds told me to draw them crying. Also because I have this idea that Junko regrets having killed Mukuro.

There were times when Junko almost regretted killing Mukuro.
Not truly, of course. The rush of despair she’d felt watching the spears pierce her twin’s body (her body? it was so hard to tell when they were dressed the same) had been unparalleled. She’d been overwhelmed by the elation the despair brought her and the pain of losing something so precious; she had scrambled to make it to the bathroom in time to vomit. Clutching the cold plastic of the toilet bowl, shaking, she’d repeated Mukuro’s name over and over, riding the undulating tide of nausea. It had been beautiful.
Junko had lost count of the number of times she’d replayed the footage. Slowed down, sped up, set to music, volume turned up to the maximum so she could hear the breathy, desperate tone of Mukuro’s final words. She’d pressed her face against the television screen, zoomed in on her sister’s face, and slowly dragged her tongue across the glass. She’d filled every monitor in the data processing room with Mukuro’s death, wrapping it around herself, the way an animal would build a nest.
But there were still times when it would’ve been preferable for her sister to be alive.
It would have been criminally easy to dispose of Kirigiri, for example. Just issue the command and the detective would have turned up in one of the rooms as nothing more than a puddle of gore and a few errant hairs left for identification purposes. Junko knew what Mukuro was capable of. She chuckled quietly and remembered the things her twin used to whisper to her in bed: about the men she’d killed for Fenrir; about the corpses she’d stacked high for her sister’s sake; about what she’d do to Tsumiki if Junko ever withdrew her protection.
Despite how alluring the idea of executing Mukuro would be, though, it couldn’t compare to what had actually happened. Mukuro would know she was about to die, and how; she’d been instrumental in the construction of her own execution apparatus. No, things had gone down the most favorable path.
That left Kirigiri as Junko’s problem. As she considered her options, Junko leaned back in the observation chair and tapped the envelope in her hand against the desk. It was a shame this particular item didn’t get to be used as a motive. Mukuro was already tucked away in the biology lab by the time it was issued, along with Kuwata and Maizono. (The last was a shame to lose as well; Junko had really enjoyed selecting the photos that best emphasized how much blood and semen Maizono had dirtied her hands with on the path to becoming an idol.)
It would have been delicious to see her twin open the envelope. Surely she would have been expecting her secret to be an outing of her talent, or her identity, or her relationship to the mastermind, or perhaps an attempt to pin Junko’s crimes on her.
She smiled as she slid the delicate paper out and rested it on her lap.
The mastermind’s only weakness.
Without pausing to think, Junko navigated to the folder where she saved surveillance footage.

Mizpah (Despaircest) - Dangan Ronpa
Well, let’s say I have this feeling that Junko regrets what she did to Mukuro.
Rating: Teen and up.
Spoilers: Yes.
Note: slight necrophilia warning maybe? No big deal but well.
AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1019237
From Hebrew, Mizpah: (n.) the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.
—————————————————————————————————————-
She had to make them see that hope was not an available path – that was the only way to make them commit a murder in that situation, otherwise, filthy human beings like them would keep relying on each other to find comfort from the beloved despair Enoshima Junko was so determined to make them achieve. The absence of hope was essential for her plan to work, and sacrifices demanded to be made. She needed to give them a demonstration of what she could do to them.
That’s how she justified the killing of her sister.
Mukuro wouldn’t mind, and Junko was convinced of it from the start. The soldier herself told her countless times during midnight love confessions about how she’d give her own life for Junko: how her body, her heart and her soul were hers to keep, and how everything she did was for the sake of her younger twin.
Pathetic.
Devoting yourself to somebody like that could only lead to death, it was obvious – clear like water. Ikusaba Mukuro didn’t mind being used and thrown aside, she was a mere puppet of Enoshima’s wishes, and yet… Junko did love her. The sick kind of love, demonstrated by violence and abuse, which could mean deeper scars than the skin can show – but you couldn’t expect much more from growing with a sociopathic, homicidal and sadistic twin sister.
Or could you?
A grin covered Junko’s perfect face and her blue eyes were carved on the screens that monitored Hope’s Peak Academy. She had headphones on and listened to the conversation going on between Sakura Oogami and Aoi Asahina.
‘’I can’t take this anymore, Sakura-chan!’’ Aoi cried – the mastermind could see behind the screen tears streaming down her cheeks as her knees failed her and she fell on the floor of the corridor in front of her own room. ‘’I’m so tired of this place. I don’t want anyone to die anymore.’’
Sakura kneed in front of the girl and placed her hands on her shoulders. ‘’Be strong, Asahina, my girl. We’re going to find a way out… it’s a matter of time.’’
‘’No, it’s not! Nobody is coming rescue us, right?! I miss my life, I miss swimming, I miss things how they are supposed to be! I’m sick of this endless nightmare!’’
‘’I know.’’ The fighter sighed. ‘’But we have no choice now. We have to be strong and patient. And as long we are together, I’m sure we can beat whoever is doing this.’’
‘’I’m in so much pain right now!’’ Aoi hugged Sakura. ‘’Whoever they are, they’re getting what they want!’’
‘’We can’t let them win…’’ murmured the other girl.
As she watched the scene, Junko’s grin became wider and wider and turned into a giggle that developed into a maniac laughter, which filled the whole room in high tone.
‘’Do you see that?! Isn’t that beautiful? She’s succumbing to my Despair!’’ She turned her head to look back, way too quickly. ‘’Hey, Muku, did you see that? Our plan is workin-‘’
Junko stopped. The smile disappeared from her face and she stared into nothing for what seemed to be ages, wondering why she did that. Why did she call Mukuro when she was dead? Enoshima herself killed her. The model narrowed her eyes, feeling a bitter taste on her tongue and a scratch of angst in her heart with the realization.
No, Mukuro didn’t see that, because you killed her.
Getting up from her chair, she left the room like a rocket in lightspeed, walking quickly up to the morgue. Her noisy high heels knocked the floor rhythmically, ticking into her head like a clock and making her running thoughts faster with the seconds. She pushed the door, struggling, and shivered with the cold of the room. She knew what compartment to open – she’d been the one to put her there in the first place.
The sound of the tracks echoed in the room as the metal drawer revealed a white body sack. She unzipped it and stared at her mirroring face.
You killed Mukuro. You killed your own sister.
Carefully, she removed the wig from her sister’s head and threw it aside – now it looked like Ikusaba Mukuro, except for the clothes. Closed eyes, peaceful expression —Junko had seen her like that many times that she could simply be sleeping. But the thing is, this time she wasn’t going to wake up – her eyes would never open again. She would never tell Junko how much she blindly loved her anymore.
Never.
‘’Oi, come back.’’ Junko murmured into the cold air, and a white cloud of breath left her mouth with the words. Nothing, however, happened, so she continued. ‘’Oi, Mukuro. I’m telling you to come back. Now.’’
That face. Those disgustingly ugly freckles. That carelessly dry dark hair. And her skin was even paler than usual. Junko grifted her teeth with anger. So annoying – Mukuro was so annoying – and all the little things about her that were so annoying began to show for a second. She was so useless, pathetic, desperate, attention seeking, stupid… The rage made the model dig her long nails into the palm of her hands so deep that blood drops started falling on the floor beside her.
‘’I just told you to come back!’’ she yelled at the top of her lungs. ‘’Come back now, Mukuro! Didn’t you say you’d do anything I told you to?! Then come the fuck back here!’’
Falling on her knees on the floor, the younger twin finally did what she had never done since the other girl’s death: genuine grief tears burned from her eyes across her face and down her neck as she sobbed Mukuro’s name. The older sister would usually hold her as she cried when she had sudden breakdowns, but now she was alone and it was her own fault. The only thing she managed to get from killing Mukuro in the end, was…
…Despair.
Gradually, Enoshima’s sobs evolved into a disdain laughter – so deeply sarcastic you couldn’t tell what that was a reaction of. She threw her head back, holding her stomach to contain her enthusiasm. Tears still rolled down her face, a warm contrast against the coldness of the morgue atmosphere.
She struggled to get on her feet again, still giggling, and leaned over to Mukuro’s face. ‘’You see, Muku? I’m in so much despair right now, isn’t it beautiful? I’m so happy for this!’’ Junko cupped her sister’s cheek, and kissed her lips softly. ‘’I’m going to make them all feel this beautiful despair as well, I promise, my soldier.’’
After leaving the body as she first found it, the model left the morgue, wiping the tears from her face.
Maybe it’s a sick kind of love, if you even can call it like this, but there are things beyond human understanding. Love, adoration, lust, passion – maybe these are just different ways of naming the same thing? That all really just depends on how you see it. And through two certain pairs of blue eyes, that was what it was.

HHAHAHHAHHA I’M WRITING A NEW DESPAIRCEST FIC FINALLY I FEEL MY HEART BREAKING
its so not that about Junko forcing Mukuro to please herself at gunpoint nope nope

Wow yeah ahahah I have no idea how to continue this fic or if I should any suggestions? hell even roleplay would be per for this.
i’m going through a few of my old half finished fics THERES LIKE 30 UGH in order to get better ideas for the despaircest gunplay thing so yeah /.\ heres one of them I had based off Angel Eyes by New Years Day/ Chris Motionless
Name: N/A
Rating: idk yet probably just T
Chapter one-
'perhaps i should tell him now….' she thought, her thin fingers tapping restlessly upon the desk as she stared ahead of her, at the back of a young boys head. Mukuro had almost always had a small crush him, Makoto Naegi, ever since he started to show her kindness. It was difficult to work up the courage to speak to him however, whether it be due to his lavender locked companion or her own overbearing younger sister whom practically thrived off attention; she only seemed to talk with him when he required help. This practically drove her crazy, all the distractions preventing her from spilling emotion forth like an overturned cup.
Letting out a small sigh as the final bell rang, she quickly gathered up her belongings before retreating out the open door in a crowd of other students. ‘How odd…’ she thought, ‘that Junko didnt come to class today… i suppose shes still back in her door… hmph… she’ll start failing at this rate…’
Frowning at the thought, she quickly made her way back to their shared room, weaving effortlessly between the crowds of students as she approached the destination.
Once reaching the door, her curiosity got the best of her “Junko-chan…?,” she called out softly, knuckles rapping against the wooden frame “are you there? I’m a bit worried… I dont want you getting behind in your wor—”
Abruptly cutting her off, the door swung open, revealing a very irritated Junko, “What the hell do you want?” she hissed, rubbing her tired, aquamarine eyes, “Mukuro you useless bitch I was trying to sleep! This better be important!”
"A-ah… my apologies sister but your absence from class worried me a bit so i thought i’d come see if you were okay…" she looked away, a bit unsure how her sister would react. She was used to the strings of profanity and insults that would almost aways follow her speaking, but would always take them to heart. Her sister was the only person she really had left, the only one whom she could talk to and give her ‘life bettering’ advice about herself. Oh how she idolized her, the perfection, the ones who practically worshipped the very ground she stood on, the global recognition…. it was all desirable. Sure, it changed how she acted, going from a slightly deceitful young girl into a borderline psychotic domineering persona, a fake shell to protect what was left of her real self, but hell no matter what she would forever adore her.
"I’m completely fine. Now unless you wish to relieve me of my boredom, get out of my sight." Turning to shut the door, a small smirk formed upon her pale cherry lips as she felt Mukuros boot block it from closing.
"A-ah wait..! Sister I wanted to ask… for a bit of advice…" she held her breath as soon a sthe words escaped her lips, she could never be certain how Junko would take her when she wished for something to help. Occasionally she complied, yet other moments she essentially got kicked to the hypothetical curb, abandoned with her problem as her sister practically basked in the faint bit of despair brought on with her cruelness.
Amused, Junko kept her back facing the freckled girl, her smirk growing wider as she took in and analyzed her every word, “Is that so? Now what do you need help with, hm?” she could care less as her elder sibling quickly slipped past her and into the room. Watching her perche upon the edge of her bed, her eyes held a playfully innocent gleam, “Is it something despair worthy~?”
Sitting up straight, Mukuro played with her fingers nervously “I…wanted to ask if you could help me talk to someone….” Letting out a small sigh, she hesitantly continued her sentence, “..Naegi… to be exact… I’ve had a bit of a ehm.. well…”
Taken aback as Junko placed a hand on either side of her legs, she leaned a bit away from her, her siblings piercing blue eyes practically drilling holes through her.
"…You like him…" Her smile immediately faded into a cold scowl, her pale eyes growing into seemingly endless pits of jagged ice as she stared down into her soul, "…don’t you… Mukuro…

id=39404549

*SMASHES GLASS*
i SHIP DESPAIRCEST NOW IDF DSFMS SO FUCKIGNS FHDON WITH MYSELF

id=32563961

id=37305462

id=38721773

hello friend we r despir twons

there are days when i forget i ever even watched dangan ronpa
and then there are days when i think of mukuro as junko and despaircest and it leaves me in crippling pain for hours

dance now, just like the idiot you are ☆