#Not to mention her history of being an abuse survivor causes her to be drawn to his behavior

[sumechiayuu]

Society if Danganronpa fans realized that Toko isn't in love with Byakuya more so that she's in love with the idea of him, proven in how she straight up imagines things Byakuya would not say in any circumstance and Ultra Despair Girls where she fantasizes just that. A fantasy of how she wants Byakuya to be: the ideal man of her dreams:

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Lemon Squares || Sauveuse et Bourreau

@klarosummerbingo

Sorry, I was late, but this is my latest entry to “My-Brain-Needs-to-Chill” a memo to myself. 

Warnings: brief but graphic depictions of gore and mentions of abuse.

Klaus narrowed his eyes listening to the fearful and angry mutterings of one of the corner tables. He traced the edge of his brandy glass, not particularly impressed by its strength. Gulping the last mouthful, he set the glass on the bar and sauntered over to the table.

“Why so glum?”

They eyed him warily, noting the higher quality of his clothes. Wondering if he came from the lord’s castle, if he was there to question their recent lack of tribute.

To their noticeable surprise, he instead snagged a nearby chair, pulling it over to sprawl in, knowing it would make him seem less threatening. He could compel the answers from them if he had to, but compulsion was a blunt tool, made far less effective if he didn’t know precisely what he wanted.

And in fact, he didn’t. Klaus had only recently arrived in the little hamlet, intending to pass through on his way to a larger city. But the stench of fear and hate had been near palpable, and he couldn’t help his curiosity.

What manner of monster was tormenting this little town?

---

He raised his eyebrow, allowing his face to portray an air of curious concern. Waited patiently as the table shifted with unease. The silence stretched as the men exchanged a series of looks, before one of them reluctantly started to speak.

“There’s been trouble recently, sir. And if you are wise, you’ll heed our advice and leave this place as soon as you can.”

“Is the concern truly so great that you would advise travelers leave?”

Klaus’ curiosity and intrigue only grew as the men simply nodded solemnly at his words. Little hamlets like these needed some manner of foot traffic to sustain themselves these days, as the exchange of goods became ever more prevalent.

They literally should not be able to turn away strangers, and yet that was precisely what they were attempting to do.

His eyes dilated as his gaze carefully locked with each man in turn, knowing they would close ranks and refuse to divulge whatever secret this town held. Likely afraid that whatever horror had visited them would deter strangers forever. A true death sentence.

“Tell me, what is this cause for concern?”

Klaus felt his eyebrows creep steadily higher as a wild tale unfolded.

---

Three Months Ago

A scream tore through the still morning air, dawn’s first tendrils of light only beginning to creep over the land.

Nearby farmers that had already started their morning stilled in their fields and barns, clenching their pitchforks and hoes as they ventured toward the source of the noise. 

It had been a feminine cry, a woman’s hysterics they were all hoping, even as uneasy shivers crawled down their spines. Even for a woman, that shriek had been terrible, invoking sparks of primal fear.

And they didn’t like that. 

They should have no need to fear anything. Strong and capable as they were, protecting and providing for their women and children.

Yet when they came across the source of those screams, most shouted out themselves. One of the younger ones, only just out of his boyhood years, wretched into the grass, spiting up bile onto the dirt.

For there in the entryway of a small two-person cottage was a man.

Or the remains of a man rather, his body cut into more bloody chunks and ribbons that any of the men could count. The rest of him was smeared across the floor in pools of blood, offal such as intestines and stomach and liver intact, but gruesomely displayed just out side the door.

And just beyond the open door, the wood left open from where the woman had coming charging out the house, was a head. Standing on its bloody stump and smiling a too wide grin, lips peeled back to reveal rotting teeth. His eyes seemed to bulge from the graying flesh, eyelids similarly removed.

By God, none of them had seen anything like it.

--

More and more bodies were found by panicked villagers, many ending up near catatonic after seeing such horrors. No display was alike, each corpse cut and desecrated in new ways.

With the townspeople panicking, hostilely eyeing neighbors and strangers alike, it was no wonder that it took several weeks to realize one other fact.

Children were going missing.

And it was always a child related to one of the dead...

Then, whispers and rumors starting circulating. Of strange women being seen with the newly departed not long before their demise. Sometimes fair of hair and other times black. A few times red of hair even, a mark of devilry if there ever was one.

But no matter how cautious, people kept dying and children kept vanishing.

---

Now, Klaus wasn’t one to care for the concerns or problems of humans. More often than not he may have even been the cause of them himself. That being said, such elaborate and macabre displays weren’t really to his taste. He could appreciate the gruesome creativity he supposed, but that was really more his brother’s style. 

What did actually upset him was the children. Cruel as it sounded, death was often the kindest fate that awaited those in the clutches of monsters. And such things were not tolerated by him or his siblings when a child was involved.

A second compulsion blurred his table mate's memories of his appearance and questions, as he blurred away a moment later. Hunting for the creature whose death he would relish.

---

Somewhere deep in the woods a beautiful blonde woman smiled at a tiny, slip of a girl. Her frock a bit dirty and worn, her face drawn and tired.

The blonde extended a hand to the little girl, waiting patiently as the child considered.

Small fingers eventually reached out to twine with the blonde’s her eyes large and hopeful as she followed the woman inside, lured by promises of warmth and comfort and food.

---

Caroline paused, brow furrowed, lemon rind still pressed against the metal grater. She had conned Klaus into helping her with the Mystic Falls Bake Sale, an annual charity drive that donated its funds to Families Forward Virginia. And as always, Caroline was on a spree, making batch after batch of the famous Forbes Lemon Squares.

A baking spree, Klaus just disrupted with his disturbing choice in storytelling.

“What the hell, Klaus?! Why would I want to hear your creepy recounting of personal history?” 

She whirled around to make sure he could properly see her angry gesturing, her pointed stares as she glance between his eyes and the abandoned mixing bowl on his side of the counter.

He offered a dim half-smile, his normal amusement from her reactions quelled by an odd, uncharacteristic sadness. Though he obligingly returned to his designated mixing, staring into the batter as he whisked.

“Apologies, sweetheart, I find I’m in a bit of a mood today.” He shook his head, tone returning to the normal soft and weird affection he spoke to her with. “What you’re doing though is admirable, Caroline. We both know monsters will continue to exist for eternity, but you’ve found a way to aid the survivors.”

The two lapsed into silence, the kitchen filled with only the sounds of their baking.

“I never found her you know?”

“...What?”

“Whoever was terrorizing that town. She disappeared not long after I started hunting for her.”

“Why were you? Hunting her, I mean?”

Klaus whirled to face the blonde, a little hurt despite himself at her continued low opinion of him.

“Caroline,” he stated quite seriously, voice low and a bit harsh, “there are lines even I do not cross.”

She didn’t look at him, pouring mix over the prepared sugary crust, though her voice was soft when she finally replied.

“I know.” She paused. “But what if you were wrong?”

He stilled, confused by the shift.

“I mean think about it. You just told me she suddenly stopped and the children’s bodies were never found. After her rather,” Caroline’s nose wrinkled, “colorful displays she certainly didn’t seem to be ashamed of her actions. So, perhaps she wasn’t harming the kids, Klaus.”

He shook his head. “Your faith is misplaced, love.”

Caroline finally turned to him an odd expression on her face. She cocked her head looking thoughtful.

“Is it? I think La sorcière de Pierre,” the French easily rolling off her tongue to Klaus’ utter shock, “was just dramatic, not evil.”

Caroline left to relax in the living room, the squares set to bake in the oven, Klaus stood stunned still for several long moments before he bolted after her.

“What did you just say?” He whispered hoarsely.

“They were the monsters, Klaus. Molesters and brutes all.” She spoke this calmly, Old French elongating the vowels of her words.

And Klaus stared, mouth slightly agape, at the woman he had failed to find all those centuries ago.

---

Author’s Note: To my irritation several words in English translate to French with the same spelling which ruins the point. Anyway, this one is “Savior and Executioner” in French. I already used German so despite some Hansel and Gretel similarities it’s French. Apparently there was a similar tale from France circa 1697 so good enough for me!  Plus, I set it in France. So there lol

La sorcière de Pierre = The witch of Pierre

FYI that’s a real charity to aid children, I don’t know how reputable that particular one is, but considering donating to such funds if you have the means.