[AN:] This was originally uploaded on my AO3 on May 1st of this year. The writing style was one of my two fics I did based on the HP fanfics of the user "An Author's Pen" with her dearest permission. This will probably be my only Touhou fic that I did on AO3 that I'll convert to FF. Enjoy.
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Serene.
If one adjective could be used to describe Junko, it was serene.
Yes, serene...Junko was a serene woman, in both her looks and personality. The ends of her blonde hair flowed up in the air beautifully, the female's locks blessed with waves like the rays of the sun, but they smelled like daisies and roses, not like a star that's been burned.
Her eyes were also a perplexity to those who saw, as they were scarlet, but not in the sense of blood, no, but red like a beautiful gem that glistens alluringly in even the darkest of shadows.
In retrospect, Junko was a serene woman even in her pose, as she was known to hold her arms out, not to conquer, but to give out a motherly hug.
Maybe the gentleness to her appearance was because she is—was…she was a mother.
Was a mother.
It's been many years since she's seen her lovely son, who bore sunny hair and gem-like eyes like her, but Junko was a mother. She loved her son and did everything she could to make sure he had an amazing life.
She was whole with her son.
But then Chang'e came.
Yes, Chang'e came.
Chang'e came and flowed down in her pretty little dress and used her pretty little face to seduce Junko's husband, and then she used her pretty little hands to string around Junko's husband so he could kill their—Junko's son, because Chang'e was a pretty little thing with a pretty big brain.
A pretty little thing, she was.
A pretty little thing.
A pretty little wrench who got Junko's husband to kill Junko's son kill Junko's son kill Junko's son.
Junko was sad. She cried and she cried and she cried cried cried cried cried cried cried for days.
But that was in the past. Now, she is calm—verrrry calm.
Junko is calm calm calm and her husband is dead dead dead to her, both literally and relationship-wise, and even though Chang'e is still on the moon, still in space, still alive, still without a scar without a scar, Junko is calm calm calm.
She'll have to fix Chang'e being unharmed, though, because Junko's son is dead, and Chang'e can still breathe. That won't do.
No, that won't do.
"That won't do," Junko said, the three words having left her mouth so much, she can say them perfectly even by silently mouthing them.
'That won't do,' Junko thought, the three words having cloud her mind so much, she sometimes feels as if the only thought she'll ever be able to have will come out as scribbles scribbles scribbles scribbles, because, well, that won't do.
That...won't...do...
That won't do that won't do that won't do.
So, to get her vengeance on her husband's harlot of a woman, in order to avenge her son, Junko will have to go high high high in the sky, so she can take Chang'e off of the moon and throw her low low low to the ground.
Junko won't make it a bloody death, though.
She'll do it with no blood out, she'll do it with no bones out, she'll do it with no muscles out, she'll do with no skin out.
It'll be a peaceful death—a serene death.
Because Junko is a serene woman.
A serene woman.
A serene woman.
Junko is a serene woman.
A calm calm calm calm calm calm calm calm serene woman.
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