#notre dame au
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What’s this??? Another AU drop??
Say hello to the Hunchback of Notre Dame AU! You can kinda see who’s roles each characters filling.
The story so far is that Stan and Ford are born to a Romani woman and a Jewish man. Both targets of 14th century persecution, the parents split up while running from Paris lawmakers; Caryn taking Ford and Fillbrick taking Stan. Caryn is murdered on the footsteps of Notre Dame, and her son is taken in by the Cardinal and raised to ring the bells. Meanwhile Stan is raised in Gravity Falls; an underground sanctuary for the outcast of Paris to hide in should they need to (this AU’s equivalent of the Court Of Miracles). After his father’s death, a seventeen-year-old Stan performs in the streets (while running the occasional scam) to earn the money needed to support his family and make life better for the people hiding out in Gravity Falls. A chance encounter leads to the twins meeting, which changes both their lives forever.
Researching period+cultural accurate clothing is a task and a half, let me tell you. But mixing what I found with something stylized is super fun. I like these designs, and I hope they do both the characters and the roles they take Justice! If anyone has tips on how to improve these designs, I’d love to have them!
#gravity falls#stanley pines#stanford pines#stan pines#ford pines#bill cipher#the hunchback of notre dame#esmerelda#quasimoto#judge claude frollo#notre dame#notre dame au#human bill cipher
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*Evan followed a few steps behind. He kept glancing over his shoulder, but there didn't seem to be anymore footsteps. Good. The staircase looked unusually long, and Agonia looked like he might need help, but Evan didn't know if he'd be allowed to do so.
Agonia looked behind. The boy still seemed uneasy, though that was understandable. They were in new territory, after all.
But, not wanting to be uncaring, he stopped and waited for Evan to catch up. He put his fists together, then waved his hands. “How are you doing?”
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Huh. Not sure why it tinted so red :/
Anyway, this is my version of @ponds-of-ink's DTIYS featuring Agonia. I know Pond said to try taking care of the purple boi but we don't do that here >:)
I must admit I was a little disappointed to find that Agonia has no shadow since I love lighting effects but compensated with extra glow and Judge Glitch being ominous :3
boi i think i overdid ur cheekbones, uh, bone... a little but that ok bc theyre fun to draw
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My entry for @ponds-of-ink dtiys of Agonia for their Notre Dame au.
I know I messed up the thing because I didn't read the post properly I just saw the 'draw this in your style' and just went for it without carefully rereading it, so apologies for that.
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French TV journalist having a hard time trying to get woman in the street to comment on Macron's latest speech yesterday
Protesters organised casserolades (aka banging on pots and pans) in front of city halls across the country at 8pm, when Macron was speaking, to symbolically drown out his voice. Later that evening, Macron was filmed singing a song with some 'random people' in a street in Paris, trying to show he can go out and meet people and have fun because protesters don't exist. The people he was singing with (members of a choir, some of whom are 'alt-right-leaning') were using a folk song app created by far-right activists that was criticised a few months ago for hosting a Spanish fascist anthem & Third Reich military marches.
The government's response was that the President "couldn't know the background of the people he met that night." Maybe if he wants to avoid being associated with the far-right (that's a big if, I know), Macron should keep in mind that with the kinds of strategies and positioning his government has adopted lately, people in the street who welcome him with open arms and are proud to be filmed with him have a higher than average likelihood of supporting fascism.
#genre hier darmanin qui dit qu'il faut sanctionner les gens au RSA et aujourd'hui le maire pour qui fraudeur = maghrébin...#also the far-right ppl who made that song lyric app got 40K€ of public funding from the ministry of culture#our government is 'questioning' public funding for the human rights league but not this#so yeah this is just 1 thing out of the avalanche of bullshit the government keeps unleashing these days#i could have made a post about the minister of the interior; a known rapist; saying#that french people are angry about the reform but ''they swallowed it''#that was yesterday; this week is going well so far#cool thing that happened last week is that the film director who won the césar des lycéens award#made a speech in the presence of the minister of education in which he said#''it must be hard to be minister of education for a president whose words and actions reflect the opposite#of the values school is supposed to teach the youth: contempt rather than respect; dictating rather than dialoguing'' (etc)#also last week when macron went to notre-dame and of course forbade protests in the area#so protesters hopped on a boat and protested on the seine next to notre-dame#frpol
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Seeing you use a Hunchback song for the comic is making me lose it bc I started reading RnS right as I saw the musical for the first time (local theater production) and so I've been imagining Welsnight and Helsnight as sounding like Frollo and Jehan (from the official cast recording) respectively the entire time.
You can't just say things like that to me
#spazzcat doodles#allatorguard#welsknight#helsknight#good voice claim for these two i dig it#vaguely related but i've been spinning a Hunchback of Notre Dame AU in my brain for the past two days and it's killing me actually#also shh shhhh i only just realized i gave them the wrong voices for what you said#but i just love the mental image of Wels calling Hels out on his bs and Hels being shook about it#what do you mean my devotion to a code of conduct that transends everything else to the point of cruelty#bred resentment in my other half who rightly found those standards impossible to live up to?
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Quick drawing of my Hunchback au where Quasi was never taken from his mother. He gets to grow up in the court of miracles and be an older brother to Esmeralda. Clopin acts like an older brother to them and plays hide and seek a lot.
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Disney Knowledge Yuu: Masquerade edition
[BASED ONLY ON THE TRAILERS AND NOTICES]
(When Rollo appears)
Yuu: Oh fuck, that’s Judge Frollo… *movie flashbacks* …OH FUCK THAT’S JUDGE FROLLO!!! D8
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Rollo: (eyeing up Malleus)
Yuu: ...?? ... (realization hits) Oh...Oooh no, no no no no (starts shoving Malleus away) No no no no no NO, we are NOT doing this! Not today, not in THIS house!!
(Later)
Yuu: Sebek, Silver, do NOT let Malleus ANYWHERE NEAR THAT GUY! *points to Rollo*
Silver: Why not?
Yuu: Because he is looking at him like he's a piece of meat, and if I know the movie, that can either mean one of two things and I hope to god it's not EITHER OF THEM!
Sebek: Movie-?
Yuu: JUST TRUST ME ON THIS!!
((TLDR, I am VERY scared for Malleus, I know he can take care of himself, but I am still CONCERNED cause Frollo is a nasty, fucked up, piece of shit))
((Also, I will definitely add more once the event begins and the translators spill the deets >:3c))
#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst yuu#disney knowledge yuu#twisted wonderland au#twst wonderland#yuu#twisted wonderland masquerade#twst rollo#judge frollo#masquerade#glorious masquerade#the hunchback of notre dame
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RadioJoy Hunchback Au
Small Sketch dump!
Lucifer x Emily is always a win, change my mind.
🎼Like fire, Hellfire... This fire in my skin. This burning... desire...🎶
Just some funky lil' sketches for fun. I showed them to a friend of mine, @owlofnonsense , and after thinking it over, I've decided to post this. I shouldn't horde my art if I want to bring more people aboard the crackship.
Shippers, LEND ME YOUR EARS!
COME JOIN THE CRACKSHIPS, YOU'LL HAVE FUN I SWEAR!
#hazbin hotel fanart#traditional art#radiojoy#angelicsmile#Alastor x Emily#Lucifer x Emily#hunchback of notre dame au#nun alastor#Pride and Joy#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin emily#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#crackships#come join the fun#Shipping for silly fun is the gateway drug to shipping for real#Please accept this content in these trying times
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Phoebus and Clopin from Hunchback of Notre Dame dating in a modern setting. :D [Watch Me Edit]
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FNAF Notre Dame AU Chapter 14: “The Judgment”
(AKA “The second half of Chapter 13, I guess”)
So this turned out to be shorter than I expected, but I hope this was still worth the wait. [And isn’t too rushed…]
Now, let’s see what went down after last chapter’s revelation… Hopefully, it won’t be too brutal?
-
Nevertheless, he slowly climbed back to his feet. “‘Agonia’,” he said with a breathless laugh, “surely you can understand my intentions! I was only trying to follow in your footsteps!”
Agonia only muttered under his breath. His fury remained intact.
Glitch’s ears drooped past his shoulders. “What else was I supposed to do?” he stammered out, carefully maneuvering away from his listener. “I had no idea what you looked like! You gave me no indication!”
Another round of indistict muttering. The rage was starting to no longer look tranquil.
Glitch’s foot bumped the knife handle. His ears twitched, but everything else focused on his opponent. “And, even if I did know, would anything I taught you really change?” he asked with a trembling smile. “Given your reputation, I think my lessons have only gotten more valuable. After all, you are a wretched, rotten beast— One that I made more useful.”
Agonia picked up one of the medical kits and threw it over the rabbit’s head. “The only thing you taught me is to ‘live’ in shadows and obey your every word!” he yelled, gnashing his teeth. “What good is such a lesson when the only thing to hide from is monsters like us!?”
Glitch ducked, taking the opportunity to snatch up the knife. He locked eyes with Agonia, then twirled the blade by the handle. “It aids you in fighting for your life,” he answered, inching closer with every syllable.
Agonia retreated in a similar manner. His body fought the urge to cower. His mind darted between tactics and self-admonishments. Yet he continued to back away. Still staring at the threat made crystal clear. A threat that now seemed like a twisted reflection of his old self the more he looked at it. The near-identical demented grin. The careful, yet carefree approach. The exact sensation of a mad “man” about to succeed in his schemes.. All of it was present in the rabbit Agonia once called his sole defender.
And yet, in that moment, Agonia did not feel distraught. He knew what happened when he fell into that sort of trap. All he had to do was spring it at the right time.
He backed into the first step, then fled up the rest of the staircase. Glitch followed close behind. They rushed into the main entrance of the castle, only halting to catch their “breaths”. The southern windows still cast a murky red glow upon the room. Muffled voices broke the silence, though their words were indistinct and distant. A sense of emptiness filled both the outside world and the main hall. A void Glitch determined to fill with deathly cries.
He tightened his grip on the knife. His stride quickened. All he could see was a reddish blur as he charged towards the hunchbacked wretch. His knife slashed through the air. No sound of impact reached his rabbit ears. He twisted his body around, then lunged again. Another near-miss— Punctuated by a harsh tumble onto the floor. He gingerly rose from the floor to his knees. The only sound he registered was someone ascending the tower staircase.
“A..gonia…” the judge thought wearily as he stumbled to his feet. “He’s… going to cry for help.. That has to be what he’s planning.” He steadied himself, took a moment to slowly, then whipped his head around. “I will not stand for it,” he snarled as he charged towards the staircase. “If I am doomed to have authority over one soul alone, then ‘Afton’ will be that soul.” With this as his new drive, he bounded up the stairwell.
Agonia peered over the Princess’ Balcony. The fire was contained, yet still burned with fury. Roxanne and Cassie were nowhere to be found, as well as Vanessa and Gregory. Only the firefighters and a few brave volunteers remained on the premises. Whether it was to put out the fire or to save the mysterious bell ringer, Agonia could not tell. Regardless, the nightmare down below was nearing its end.
The nightmare high above, on the other hand…
Agonia shut his eyes. His body tensed.
The door on his left opened with a creak.
Glitch strolled to the railing, then placed his hand on the ghost’s shoulder. “You want to call out to them, don’t you?” he asked in a cold, steady tone.
Agonia nodded.
“So you want to repeat what happened at the Festival of Tomfoolery, ‘Mister Afton’?”
He shook his head.
Glitch clicked his tongue. “How many times must we go over this?” he questioned as he twirled the knife in his other hand. “You will not have recognition without replusion— Especially now that we know who you truly used to be. Why invite more calumny and consternation?”
“Because it would be better than staying here!” Agonia rasped before grasping the rabbit’s knife-wielding arm. As soon as he felt the wooden handle, he opened his eyes. His brows furrowed. “But if I am to stay here forever,” he continued slowly, shifting his gaze to the bell tower, “then there is one thing I must do first.”
“And what is that?” Glitch scoffed.
Agonia’s expression turned somber. His pupils stopped darting to and fro. “I must fulfill one of those lessons you’ve taught me,” he answered in a strange monotone.
“There have been many lessons I have taught you, onus meum,” Glitch remarked with a chuckle, trying in vain to pry his arm from his listener’s grasp. “Which one are you referring to?”
Agonia moved his hand from Glitch’s arm to his wrist. He pulled his master closer to him, then stared him dead in the eyes. “Impius non erit impunitus,” he said in a low, bitter tone. Without any other warning, he led them both to the repaired lantern.
“Agonia, let go!” Judge Glitch protested, pulling at his fist-clenched arm. “Let go of me this instant! William!”
Agonia stopped in front of the lantern. His hand slid off the judge’s wrist, but snatched the knife as it let go. He switched to the judge’s other wrist, restraining him once again. They moved to the railing, then climbed over it— One after the other.
Glitch peered over his shoulder. His code-created heart pounded. They were practically dangling over the fiery abyss. One wrong move and... “Agonia,” he sputtered, his tone dancing between false warmth and despair. “You don’t want to hurt us both, do you?”
Agonia paused. He stared at the ever-flickering candle. His mind sifted through the decades he had gone through. All the murderous torment he inflicted on others. All the agonizing terrors he inflicted on souls both strange and familial. All the influencing he must have done to create the monster that corrupted the lingering threads of his humanity in return…
He spun the knife in his hand. With one quick movement, he stabbed the lantern straight through the center. His entire body weakened, as did Judge Glitch’s balance. They fell off the edge together— One screaming for mercy and the other practically unconscious.
A few firefighters rushed to catch them, but all they could retrieve was the ghostly chill the specters left behind.
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Asha and Esmeralda
(I messed up on Esmeralda's design help)
Idk if TKoRaT!Asha in my AU would look like that in the beginning, I am still playing with her design and how that would play into the story (yes her outfits shows the progression of her arc in my version)
They would be bsf tho :3
#they would start a dance club and Asha would#do art to promote the club#:3#disney wish#fypage#tumblr fyp#explorepage#art tag#foryou#art#artwork#asha wish#princess asha#asha#wish asha#wish 2023#the hunchback of notre dame#esmerelda#TKoRaT#TKoRaT!AU Wish#star wish#hehe :3#digital art
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I can't hold in my silence
This ver of Frollo is VERY goofy
Why did Disney make him a twink. Keep his old grandpa age. The older, the better. ROLLO??? LIKE SAY HIS NAME. IT'S FROLLO.
FROLLO.
I SOUND RLLY RUDE (and I don't wanna) BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHO THAT IS ANYMORE.
If you took away his entire outfit (like in the art) I wouldn't be able to remember him.
And I've heard people say this ver is hot but say regular Frollo is ugly. IF YOU'RE GONNA SAY THAT BUT EXCUSE THEIR ACTIONS THEN DOUBLE STANDARDS. Y'ALL ARE SO CRUEL. OLD MEN ARE HOT. STOP CALLING THEM UGLY. STOP DE-AGING THEM FOR YOUR TWINKY TASTE.
#claude frollo#judge claude frollo#frollo#the hunchback of notre dame#rollo#rollo flamme#im saying all of this in the mind of where i have this au where frollo is well...ya know#Im NOT excusing his actions#i simple changed da story since disney's a bootyhole#if they gave maestro forte this treatment if they were to ever put him in twisted wonderland#I would take ketamine and cry#rollo fans dni/hj#if you come near me with like “erm auctslly hes super hot” when refering to rollo instead of frollo#i WILL skin you#if you find rollo hot but not frollo#just say you're scared of big noses#oh and if you do#i'll block you#:3#Frollo >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> R*ollo#idc if i get hate i said the truth#say anything horrifically bad and you're blocked
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ALRIGHT ALRIGHT HOLD YOUR HORSES FINE I'LL POST THESE ON MY MAIN TOO. /lh
(Took a better picture of the first drawing too since the one on my other blog was kinda blurry💔)
Context: I was messing around with a character ai of Frollo, one thing led to another and I ended up creating this. It's a beast au, one where Frollo is punished for his crimes by transforming into a snake/sheep-drake (land dragon) kind of monster. His outsides finally matching his insides, a creature of his own making.
The more I thought out the universe for this AU the more I found myself joking about this being an alternative version of Beauty and The Beast (the fucking coincidence too that Frollo is french 💀💀) except there is no happy ending for the beast (not in a fairytale-esque way anyway) and there is no breaking this 'enchantment' because it's a full-on curse. And this only accentuated the minister's self-hatred and internal turmoil, since now his every desire comes bubbling out along with his animalistic instincts.
#I genuinely did not expect anyone within the frollo fandom to sniff out my rp blog and find my silly au#long story short i turned my fave into a furry/scalie oc pretty much.#its VERY complex summarizing it in a few sentences doesnt do it justice#my art#my ocs#???#i guess. since he is VERY divergent from canon in this state#the hunchback of notre dame#claude frollo#thond au: beast of lust
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frollo burns all of quasimodo’s letters. no matter how long he’s lived away from his uncle, no matter how much he’s healed from that trauma (or at least, he’s working on it), there’s some things he can’t shake. and so he writes frollo letters.
claudine watches her father burn them. he never tells her who they’re from. she never asks. one day, she asks jehan. he tells her they’re from quasimodo. she didn’t know you could communicate between auradon and the isle, but gil told her about people he knows who have family in auradon who they write letters to.
she asks jehan why he doesn’t stop frollo from burning them and replies. “he has gone this long without me,” he says. “i do not think it would be welcome.” claudine isn’t sure she agrees, but she says nothing.
jehan suggests she try writing him. they are cousins, after all, he knows better than anyone what she’s going through. claudine figured it can’t be the worst thing she’ll ever do. she’s already begun sneaking out. besides, it gets lonely with just her uncle and gil around.
i don’t know if this will be welcome, she writes. but father burns all your letters, and that doesn’t seem fair, so i figured i’d write you. it gets lonely anyway. i have uncle jehan, and gaston’s son gil, and sometimes i find the pirates trailing me through the market, but father does his best to keep me isolated. what was it like for you, in the bell tower, all alone? i don’t live in a bell tower, but sometimes i think father is considering it. i hope not. i hate small spaces. anyway, i’m sorry for rambling, and i’m sorry if you don’t want this letter. if you don’t want to reply, that’s fine, but if you do, address it to gilbert legume. he’ll make sure i get the letter.
she gets a response a week later.
#new au idea lads#claudine frollo#disney descendants#quasimodo#hunchback of notre dame#claude frollo#jehan frollo#gil legume
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What if…Quasimodo had a Sister?
皿
REPERCUSSIONS
Claudette stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror as the rain pattered against the window, a soothing melody that did little to calm her troubled mind and heart. She released her braided hair, allowing the waves to fall loosely around her face. As she prepared for bed, she hoped to find some solace in sleep, but Claudette knew it would be an unlikely escape from the events of the day. Frollo had not spoken to, let alone looked at her since they left The Festival. She fixed her gaze on her reflection, noting the similarity to her father, and felt a sense of disgust. With a grimace, she turned away from the mirror. The thought filled her with a sense of anger and frustration, the memories of the day's events clouding her mind and leaving her feeling numb.
Her thoughts raced as she pondered her Father's unwarranted treatment of The Jester, who had sought only to entertain, and the Hunchback who had suffered only because of his physical appearance. She was haunted by the memory of his wounded gaze, the deep pain behind his eyes pulling at her heartstrings, making her realize that her inaction had made her no better than the crowd who had treated him so harshly. The weight of guilt made her question the very fabric of her morality and values in life.
Claudette's mind strayed to Phoebus, The kind and brave Captain of the Guard who had protected her from the crumbling stage. His strong arms encircled her, pulling her close to his chest, his concern for her wellbeing and safety evident in every move. Claudette blushed at the memory and tried to dispel her growing romantic feelings for him, The Sin of Lust was a sneaky and insidious one, and she refused to give into her romantic desires for him. Even so, fighting against the natural pull of attraction was proving to be much more difficult than said.
Matthew 5:28 - But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.
There was an ominous knock at the bedroom door, filling Claudette with a sudden sense of dread. She stood up, brushing out her dress before inching toward the door. With trembling fingers, she reached out to open the door and was met with the disturbing presence of Claude Frollo. With a sickening calm, he entered her room, the chill of death in his steps. Claudette's stomach turned as Frollo paced around the bedroom, his eyes wandering across the furniture before settling on her nightstand. She watched him with mounting unease, sensing the evil that radiated from his presence. When he finally looked up, he locked eyes with her, unblinking and unmoving, as if he could read every thought inside her head.
“How did you enjoy the festival?”
Claudette's heart raced as her father's gaze burned into her, his expression impossible to read. His words, spoken for the first time since the events earlier, only served to further unsettle her. She looked down at the stone floor, unable to hold his gaze, and clasped her hands together in an attempt to quell her nerves. Frollo continued to stalk closer to her, his movements slow and deliberate. She could feel his presence looming over her like he were sizing her up and judging every move she made. His facial expression remained indecipherable
“It…was wonderful,”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she answered his question.
“Until it wasn’t.”
Frollo stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickering from her hands to her face, studying the small movements she made.
“Hm…”
He hummed pressing her to continue, Claudette took a breath trying to stay calm as her father pressed her for more information.
“That man-“
“That monster.”
He corrected her in a harsh tone, his brow furrowing in disgust. Claudette finally looked back up at him, her expression wide with fear as he continued to stalk towards her. As he encroached upon her personal space, she felt her stomach drop and tried to inch backward away from the man.
"No... he was just— something must have…"
She stammered, but Frollo cut her off, his voice growing louder with each word.
"What you saw was a pure example of the ungodly truth in this creation," He spat, his face contorted with an unhinged fury.
"It's been bestowed upon people such as myself to cleanse the world of such evils. They do not follow the word of our Lord like you and I."
Claudette felt her breath catch in her throat, her fear mounting with each passing moment. Frollo continued to speak, his words filled with a conviction that only fanned the flames of her terror.
“But—If God created us all in his plan, then why would he create someone that would have to face such cruelty? How can that possibly—“
Claudette felt a surge of fear as Frollo's fist connected with her nightstand, sending her handheld mirror crashing onto the floor. The sound of broken glass echoed throughout the room, Claudette's heart raced as she watched Frollo push the contents onto the floor with a sweep of his arm. The room filled with the sound of clattering objects, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she watched the remnants of her personal possessions scattered across the floor. She pressed her body against the wall as she struggled to find words, her throat becoming dry as she fought to find her voice.
“You question your Savior!”
He snarled, his fists clenching tightly as he grabbed Claudette's wrist and shoved her into her desk chair. The sudden movement took her by surprise, and she stumbled, landing hard on the seat with a jolt. Her Bible was shoved into her vision, and she stared down at the open pages in a state of shock.
“Thou shall not put your lord to the test!”
Frollo's grip on Claudette's shoulders tightened as he forced her to face him. Staring into his face, The man before her became a stranger. He was no longer her father, but a vessel for anger that was now being unleashed on Claudette.
"You disobey your father's word!"
Frollo roared, his voice echoing through the room. "Manipulating the Captain of the guards to invite you to the festival, not only that but the complete adultery you committed, That Gypsy man, Captain Phoebus! You've been possessed, and if you wish to avoid the fiery depths of hell, you must repent! Repent your sins!"
His fingers dug into her shoulders, shaking her body and forcing the air out of her lungs. His face was twisted with anger, his grey hair disheveled. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. As he opened them, Claudette looked into his dark and soulless lenses. As he raised a hand to touch her face, she shrank back, trying to escape his grasp. His fingers were icy as they stroked her cheek. For a moment, she thought he was going to slap her, and her heart was racing so fast she was afraid she would faint.
Then, just as suddenly as he had raised his hand, he let it fall to his side. His face was composed, but his stare was still dark and unsettling.
"I do this because I love you"
He purred, his voice a harsh, unnatural growl. She felt that she was in the presence of pure evil, and yet, there was a part of her that wanted to believe that he meant what he was saying and that everything would be okay.
As he continued to stroke her cheek, she could feel his stare move from her eyes to her lips, heart-shaped, just as her mothers had been. His fingers moved down her face, his eyes lingering on her mouth. He leaned closer to her face, his breath hot against her skin. His fingers moved to touch her lips, and Claudette immediately recoiled.
Frollo's anger was tempered this time, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze that seemed to pierce Claudette's very being. He watched her every move as she stood up from her seat and moved across the room to her bedside, scanning her up and down before turning away to make for the exit of the room.
“Repent yourself Claudette.” His words were laced with warning. “If you know what’s good for you.”
The silence of the room was suffocating as the door clicked shut behind Frollo, leaving Claudette alone to confront her thoughts. She leaned against the wall, her breathing shaky as she tried to steady herself. She struggled to keep her emotions at bay, the tears wouldn't stop falling. Silent sobs choked her as she sat on the edge of her bed, staring into the nothingness of her bedroom. The weight of her sins crushed her, Claudette knew that she had brought this all on herself. She should have never gone to the festival, She had strayed from God's path, and she knew that her father was right - she had to repent, or risk facing the eternal punishment of Hell.
The night sky above Paris was a dark canvas, the rainstorm from earlier had passed, leaving only the residue of puddles on the wet streets and dampness in the air. Claudette walked with her head bowed, her breath visible in the cold night air, holding her Rosary in her hand. Her cloak was a patchwork of shadows, hiding the tears that stained her cheeks.
She entered the church, Its towering walls illuminated by the warm glow of candlelight. The church was empty, as she expected it to be at this hour of the night, she walked down its center aisle, the sound of her footsteps echoing on the stone floor. The stained glass windows cast a mystical glow over the walls, and the smell of candle wax and incense hung heavy in the air.
Her eyes fell on the image of the Virgin Mary, and she crossed herself, kneeling in prayer.
"Dear Mother of God," She murmured.
"I come to you in supplication, asking for salvation and forgiveness for my sins."
Claudette's voice echoed in the silence of the Church, the only sound save for the soft crackle of the candlelight. She lowered her head, her heart filled with humility and a sense of shame for the choices she had made. Her attention was taken by the gentle voice of the Archdeacon, who stepped forward to meet her. His face was turned to one of concern as he took note of her tear-stained cheeks.
"My Child... what troubles you?" He asked softly.
"I've strayed from God's path, Father. I've questioned the Lord's decisions, and I'm afraid I'm being tempted by - "
She couldn't finish her sentence, tears already choking her words. The Archdeacon frowned softly, rubbing her back soothingly as he led her to a seating section and lowered her down onto a pew. His large, bear-like paws wrapped around hers, holding her hand in a comforting grip.
"Claudette, my child... what makes you say all this? What happened?"
Claudette struggled to meet his eyes, wiping away her tear-stained vision. With a heavy heart, she spoke her story.
“I went to the Festival today…and there was a man—he was…different from the others and he was being abused and everyone just stood by laughing at him, engaging. I’m—I had to ask why God would create someone who he knew would face such torture. I should’ve never asked such a thing!”
He watched her with a sympathetic expression, and as he listened to her speak of her doubt in God, he whispered to her, his voice soft but firm.
"Claudette, my child... that's the beauty of this life, of this faith. God wants you to ask questions, what is life if not to ask why?"
Claudette listened to the Archdeacon's words of wisdom, twisting the prayer beads in her hand as she digested his message.
"Even if it's asking his motive to create a life of someone that faces such ridicule?"
She asked, her voice soft and laden with uneasiness. He paused to consider her question, she raised her head and gazed at the beautiful decor around them, searching for an answer. His eyes were fixed on the decor as well, and he hummed thoughtfully.
"Perhaps he is here to teach the People of Paris a lesson of acceptance."
Claudette tilted her head, peering up at him with a thoughtful look on her face.
"Leviticus 19:18 states, 'You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people…”
“...But you shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" She said, finishing the verse in unison with the Archdeacon.
He smiled kindly to her, his eyes filled with admiration.
"It seems that's a lesson for all of us to learn"
Claudette sat silently, she gazed up at the intricate decor of the building and contemplated her thoughts. She sighed deeply, her eyes settling on her lap.
"I don't understand my father," She finally spoke, her voice low and filled with frustration. "He's taught me to follow the word of God like himself, yet I can't help but wonder if he has lessons he still needs to learn."
The Archdeacon listened intently, his expression gentle and understanding.
"We all have lessons to learn, my child.” He confirmed, his voice tinged with wisdom.
“Some more than others, no one is without sin, not even myself."
As the midnight bells tolled through the church, Claudette turned to the stairwell where the bellowing tones emanated. Her thoughts went back to the Festival, to her encounter with Quasimodo, the way the tragic figure of The Hunchback retreated into the relative safety of the church after being scorned by the crowd. The town told tales of his solitary life in the Bell Tower of Notre Dame, controlling the bells that rang throughout the city, but she had never heard much beyond that. She rarely had the opportunity to get out and socialize, leaving her out of the loop when it came to the whispers and idle chatter that went on. She knew very little about The Hunchback, but she couldn't help feeling a sense of resonance with him and a desire to know more about his life in the tower.
The Archdeacon watched with a knowing expression as Claudette observed the stairwell
“You should see them.” He encouraged, his voice soft as he gestured towards the Bell Tower.
"They glisten in the moonlight, it's a sight to behold." He whispered, praying that she would take his suggestion.
As the final bells tolled through the church, Claudette stood, her feet faltering as she made her way towards the stairs. Carefully, she began to ascend the winding stairwell, her eyes fixed on the upper floors, where the Bell Tower rose into the night sky.
The darkness shrouded her as she made her way up the narrow staircase, guided only by the flickering candlelight that illuminated the path forward. As she reached the top of the stairwell, Claudette hesitated, examining her surroundings. It was desolate, void of life, save for the enormous bells that loomed above her like a massive, imposing giant. She pushed forward, the moonlight streaming in through the open doorway, bathing the room in a soft, blue glow. Claudette peered upwards, seeing the sheer size of the bells, marveling at their size and power. They were bigger than she had ever imagined, their metal glimmering in the night glow, reflecting the beautiful hues of blue.
She stepped closer to the ledge, seeing the breathtaking view of the city below, Inhaling the scent of freshly fallen rain, she took in the peacefulness of the moment, basking in the moon.
As Claudette turned to continue her exploration, her eye caught a small table in the center of the room, adorned with a scale model of the village below. She examined it, admiring the intricate wooden carvings of the characters that resided in the town. The Sheperd, The Fisherman, The School Teacher, and even her father, Judge Claude Frollo. But one figure in particular stood out from the rest. Claudette let out an inaudible gasp as she saw her likeness, standing proudly among the others. She gently caressed the figure, admiring the handwork.
There was a creak in the darkness, She quickly lifted her gaze scanning the room warily. The dimly lit space made it difficult to see, but as she looked up, her eyes met those of a shadowy figure clinging to the railing. Claudette froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her chest as the darkness stared back at her. The shadowed figure leaped down, causing a loud thud that echoed in the room. Her Rosary slipped out of her hand and she stumbled backward, falling onto the wooden floor as the figure approached. She raised her arms to shield herself, a silent cry escaping her lips. The shadow suddenly stopped, reaching out with gentle care and picking up the Rosary.
“You dropped this…”
Claudette’s face softened, her fear slowly subsiding in the face of the figure's gentleness. She reached out her hand, taking the Rosary from him, feeling the warmth of his touch as he gently placed it in her palm. As Claudette took the Prayer Beads, she saw his face illuminated by the moonlight, revealing him to be Quasimodo. Her body relaxed, her tension dissipated and a hint of relief showed on her face.
“I don’t usually have visitors…especially so late at night,” His voice was soft and solemn, his face betrayed a tinge of regret, as he bowed his head in apology. “I didn't mean to cause you any distress.”
“I came to see the Bells…” Claudette admitted, looking up at the towering structures before them. ”The Archedon said they’re beautiful in the moonlight.”
Quasimodo's gaze followed hers
“They are beautiful.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, both lost in thought until Quasimodo spoke again.
"What's your name?"
Claudette smiled, a feeling of warmth rising within her chest.
"Claudette"
"That's a beautiful name" Quasimodo said, his voice full of genuine admiration.
For a moment, she felt a strange sense of connection between them, A feeling of comfort and safety, as if she had found a kindred spirit, as if they were both bound by the same thread of fate.
“This is beautiful, did you make it yourself?”
Claudette's eyes wandered back to the scale model, admiring the meticulous detail put into each building and its miniature inhabitants. Quasimodo hesitated for a moment before answering, still feeling somewhat abashed by his appearance. He had grown used to being the object of fear or disgust, and yet this girl, Claudette, had not responded with revulsion at the sight of him.
“Oh—Thank you—I did make this” He said slowly, his voice laced with a hint of pride.
“You must have worked a long time on this”
Claudette continued, noting the intricate details and the care that had gone into its creation.
“Well, I have a lot of free time…”
Quasimodo mumbled a response, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the thought of the endless hours he had spent crafting the perfect miniature version of the city. But Claudette did not laugh or dismiss his work, instead, she continued to admire it and asked more questions about the process and the stories behind each building. Quasimodo felt a sense of contentment wash over him. Claudette found herself wanting to know more about Quasimodo. He was intriguing and mysterious, and she couldn't help but feel drawn to him in a way she had never felt before. She knew there was more to him than met the eye, and she was determined to find out what it was.
“Do…you like living up here?”
Quasimodo turned to face her, for a moment, she could see the longing beneath his disfigured features, a longing that spoke of a life that was cruelly denied, but then he turned away, staring at the miniature town as if it were a bitter reminder of what he could never have.
“It’s safer here, People don’t see me.”
He said simply, but there was a depth to his words, a depth that spoke of a pain that she knew all too well.
“I’m sorry about today”
He didn't react, instead, he moved to rearrange the three stone Gargoyles he had placed at various points along the walls, as if her words had fallen on deaf ears. He murmered to them while Claudette watched him move the figures, trying to decipher his words, but she couldn’t understand him
“Did you make those too?”
Quasimodo paused, He rubbed his arm self-consciously, a small sign of vulnerability
“No…these are—My friends…”
The words hung in the air, and Claudette felt a lump form in her throat as she realized the extent of the isolation that had consumed Quasimodo.
“What are their names?”
She asked, trying to break the heavy silence. Quasimodo was surprised to hear her ask this, he didn’t think she would look too fondly on the fact he was friends with Stone. He smiled shyly, looking at the three stone figures.
“Well—This is Victor,” He said, pointing to the first figure. “And these two are Hugo and Laverne”
It was almost unbelievable that he had been able to create such life-like creatures out of stone, and yet there they were, standing proud on the ledge. Victor was a lanky creature with massive wings that were stretched wide open as if he were mid-flight. Hugo was a round and tubby gargoyle, with wings that were far too small to support the creature's weight. The last gargoyle, Laverne, was a mixture of the two, with a lanky body and a round belly that gave her a playful quality.
“It’s nice to meet you”
Claudette greeted the gargoyles, She knew that they were more than just sculptures to Quasimodo; they were his companions, his friends. She couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the way Quasimodo took care of them, making sure that each one of them was kept clean and well-maintained.
“They like you” He said softly, afraid of how she might react.
“I’m glad, I like them too”
She extended her hand as if to shake hands with The Gargoyles. Quasimodo watched, a sense of tranquility washing over him. As Claudette took her seat beside Quasimodo on the floor, The Gargoyles watched over them, their stone faces looking out into the night, like they were protecting them from the outside world. They looked out at the open ledge, watching the stars as they twinkle like little jewels in the night sky.
“How did you end up here?”
She hoped that her question hadn't been too invasive, that she hadn't crossed any boundaries.
“The Archdeacon…He saved me when I was a young child, if not for him I would’ve been drowned by my mother”
Claudette frowned, feeling her heartache at his story. With a sense of compassion, she put a hand on his shoulder, offering him a touch of solace.
“He’s allowed me to live here in the Bell Tower…It’s my sanctuary” He said, his voice filled with a sense of gratitude
“Having all this space to yourself must be nice” She said, looking into his eyes with a smile, seeing the kindness in his heart.
“Well it’s not just me, there's the Gargoyles–Oh, and of course the Bells” He waved his arm to motion to the Bells, as if they were a part of him.
She leaned in closer to him, their shoulders touching.
“I’m glad I got to meet you, Quasimodo”
“Really?” He asked, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.
“Of course. It’s not often I get to talk to people, especially those who are as kind as you”
She knew that Frollo had been wrong about Quasimodo, he wasn't the monster that he had portrayed him to be. He was a man who had been isolated from the world, a victim of circumstance. Her Father had been influenced by his own prejudices and beliefs, a man who lived in fear of what he didn't understand. She had always struggled with his presence, the way he had controlled her every move and word, constantly leaning over her, never giving her any room to breathe. But now, sitting here with Quasimodo, surrounded by these ancient stones, everything seemed different.
“I’m glad I met you too Claudette”
Quasimodo admitted, As he looked away, she knew there was something on his mind, something that he wanted to tell her, but couldn't bring himself to do it.
“It gets lonely up here”
She thought of her upbringing, how she was forced to stay inside, and how the only outside interactions she had were under the observation of her father.
“It gets lonely at home too”
Claudette looked at Quasimodo, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair. She knew in her heart that what she was about to propose was a risk. She reached out a hand to Quasimodo, inviting him to stand.
“Come with me, we can run away from here, and make a better life for both of us.”
She studied his features, desperate for him to understand, to see that there was a life for them beyond the confines of Paris. However, Quasimodo shook his head, denying her idea. He had been isolated for so long, that he couldn't fathom the world beyond the walls of the cathedral. The idea of starting over, of leaving everything he knew behind, was too much to bear.
"I can't," He said, his voice heavy with sadness. "This is my home. I belong here."
Claudette's face fell at Quasimodo's rejection, but she quickly tried to conceal her disappointment, hoping that he would see the value in their newfound friendship.
"Then I'll visit you," She said, her voice filled with determination.
His eyes widened.
“But–You could get in trouble—It’s not safe for you”
“If it means we can talk again like this then it would be worth it”
Quasimodo was torn, He enjoyed Claudette's company, and it wasn't often he got to talk to others like this. He sighed in defeat, knowing that he was making a terrible decision, but one he was willing to take.
“Okay…Just—you have to be careful, you can’t let anyone else see you”
He muttered, his voice apprehensive. He knew that he was putting himself at risk, especially under the particular circumstance.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Quasimodo”
She promised, and as she turned to leave, he handed her a torch to allow her light as she made her way down the dark steps.
“Goodbye Claudette”
He whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and appreciation for her kindness. She had vanished into the shadows, her form lost in the darkening steps that stretched away from the flame. As its illumination grew faint, he leaned against the wall, lost in thought. How had it happened that in a day, he had been introduced to not one but two beings who saw past his exterior? The beautiful Romani woman, Esmeralda, with her kind-hearted nature and intelligent mind, had captured his heart without even trying. He was torn between the conflicting emotions, as he grappled with the realization that his life had the possibility of being so much more than what his Master had always led him to believe.
Then came Claudette, a sister that he had known for the duration of his entire life, but he was forced to observe her from afar, refraining from ever interacting or speaking with her. Despite their apparent connection, this bond was unbeknownst to her.
The burning desire to reveal the truth to her consumed him, the revelation that though they were not blood-related, they shared a familial bond. However, He knew that such a revelation was not plausible. Claude Frollo, their father, would no doubt bear a grudge against him—and worse, for revealing such information, and Claudette would face punishment for seeking Quasimodo out without permission.
It was for the best that she remained oblivious to the extent of their bond, a decision he felt was far safer for her.
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