#a much younger Frollo

[cheeseburger443]

🕯️📚...

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

catra reminds me of frollo from the hunchback of notre dame, with her whole “if this person i’m attracted to doesn’t choose me over everything else, then they must die”

[yuyudoyu-posts]

Foolish Captain…

A sketch featuring younger frollo. Didnt have that much difference from his older self tho lol.

[avavkh]

Can we get some more young-ish Frollo crumbs plssss

Thank you for sharing all of your art, everything is spectacular!

Aww, thank you) It's funny, cus I wanted to draw his younger version some time ago, but didn't have much time. I believe, he was born with disgust on his face.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Picture an Angel

warning : obsession, using of ropes, innocent/naive reader, older man/younger woman, Frollo being Frollo

Info : Our lord and savior has a hold on me and I wanted to write more for him and his way to corrupt the innocent reader. I see you guys liked my first One-Shot with him here is more have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His angel. She was his angel, his sweet angel in the church that was almost completely in his hands. He knew exactly that as soon as either her father died or another man came he had to strike. He had to finally have her, the golden ring on her finger that he had bought her specially would be given to her by him.

He would own her as his wife. Knew that it would only take a few more steps until they would be united under God and he had her all to himself. But until then he still had time to play his game and would do so. Because like every lord, every man with influence and power he wanted to show this.

Wanted to see and show the beauty of his love at all times. A work of art. He wanted to hold her beauty, wanted to have her hanging on his wall until he would finally have her. A picture of temptation in his bedroom and to dream about his physical desire to finally give satisfaction.

He would not entrust this work of art to any artist too much he was afraid that the one would take her away from him. Artists as beautiful as art could be were free spirits and could enchant such young, delicate beings as his angel was.

But he himself had strength he knew he would exploit their piety and naivety. Because he was the church and would thus protect them from evil. The evil that was everywhere and only his angel was the light in this damned world.

,,My angel" he murmured and his ringed fingers ran over the stained glass window in his room. A creation that spoke even more for his wealth. The light of the rising sun the red of the glass flaming sun punished him the cave called for him and would eventually fetch him.

A cave that surrounded him and the church the home of his angel. He saw the church, saw Notre Dame and knew that she was lighting the candles. How beautiful she looked as she lay down and prayed before the Blessed Virgin.

How her hands were clasped together, her head bowed, or sometimes looking up at the statue. He watched her as if she were his holy virgin the gesture went from pious in his eyes to lustful. Kneeling before him she would either way.

His horse Snowball was already saddled and made ready at his door. And with the ringing of the church bells he got on his horse and rode through the dirty streets of Paris to get closer to the church.

He rode faster and faster, the people he did not care and rushed or jumped to the side. They were unfair and were only unnecessarily in his way. The mob turned away and only moments later he had arrived at his angel.

His pretty holy angel he would wait for him in the church. Descending and straightening his clothes, he opened the heavy church door made of the old wood before the cold of the stones gave way to him.

The torches and candles were burning and yet no one seemed to be here. No one except himself and his pretty angel. Where are you, my love? he asked himself, stepping forward and after a few minutes he heard the soft singing. The bright voice of his love seemed to call him and he followed.

He followed her up to the church tower where she had her room. The big room with the view of the city she loved. The city where she stayed only with her father or a few guards, otherwise Frollo would always be at her side.

The thought that she might come to harm had made the judge a little crazy. But the possibility that he would lock her up in such a way that the people would hate him even more did not occur to him. He listened to the singing for a few more minutes before knocking.

,,Who is it?" she asked and he thought he heard her startled gasp. You will sing for me, my heart, went through his mind before he announced himself and entered her room. The light of the sun shining on her through the window, the colored glass showing an angel with a white rose made her look even more beautiful.

The light dress she wore was pretty and yet chaste it was perfectly fitted to her. But he could see exactly her ankles, her tender hands and wrists and her neck and guess what her body looked like underneath.

Her beauty would still belong to him. ,,My Lord, you have come for the picture," she said, and he heard her uncertainty, knowing that her father knew nothing about it. She had told Frollo that day that the Dean of Paris would visit the orphanages in the city.

The elder nodded, looked in the corner of her room and saw under the large white cloth the canvas and the easel, the colors her father had given her for her twentieth birthday. A day on which Frollo had also given her something.

A golden ring with an amethyst inserted, he had put it on her finger. A look at her hands told him that she still wore it. She belonged to him, respected and only because she did not know the world as he knew it. ,,Am I really suitable for this...there are more beautiful women" she murmured and looked at her hands on which the ring was.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, seeing her looking up at him as his hand came down on hers. ,,Not my flower," he started and ran his fingers over her cheek, turning her head towards the small mirror which was another gift from him to her. He saw her looking at herself and saw the small discoloration of her cheeks.

,,You are the image of the Virgin Mary, you are true piety and beauty," he finished telling her before detaching himself from her and instructing her to sit on her chair while he set up the easel and placed the blank canvas on it. ,,I'll adjust it a little for the perfect picture," he said after setting up the oil paints knowing he was the only one who could paint her perfectly. It was his.

Separating himself from the painting, he went over to her and took a rope from his coat pocket. ,,It is the ribbons of faith that have made Mary consort with the angel...as you blossom here, you too will live up to the angel, won't you?" he asked and the rope slowly tightened around her wrists holding her hands in the praying position folded on her lap.

His long thin cold fingers were adept at tying the knot, taking his time before lightly grasping her chin and making her look up.

There was uncertainty in her gaze as he knelt down and lightly lifted the fabric of her dress. ,,Frollo!" she said in surprise and wonder, and she wanted to pull away, but he just put his hand on her thigh and placed the ruffled fabric in her hand.

,,Always one step at the sin...the flesh of the body and the beauty is what the devil wants isn't it?" he asked and saw how she seemed slightly overwhelmed her voice that could sing so beautifully fell silent for a moment before she nodded and turned her gaze towards the picture. Goosebumps appeared on her body as his fingers stroked up her ankle and he withdrew.

Even her good faith only went so far as she could interpret a man's desires. ,,Is everything done so far?" she dared to ask, looking at him hopefully, still knowing that for a woman of God's house she must look lewd. But for Frollo she was everything.

She was the angel of innocence and the fire of sin on which he would and should burn himself. ,,It's ready, I'll start, don't move my dear" he demanded and she complied with his request. Frollo took the brush and began to apply the first colors to the painting.

While his fingers knew exactly what they were doing, his eyes kept going over her body and he saw her either avoiding his gaze, not holding it, or looking at the window with the angel. His eyes held on the ropes at her wrist, imagining how her body would look when he tied her to the bed.

The rope would leave marks on her hands, legs, thighs, arms and breasts. The marks he would caress to make up for it. Would she cry? The tears in her eyes dripping onto the pillow he would wipe away and kiss away, reassuring her that it was his will.

She would be good to him. She had to. As she held up her dress he saw more and more of her skin and enjoyed the warmth and softness as he stroked over it. He imagined what it would be like to have her next to him, warming his bed and keeping him warm. She would become his angel. His wife.

His until the sun threatened to set in the sky and he knew they would have to continue it another day. ,,It's time...Father will be back soon" she said and he saw how the position was starting to hurt her and she tried to move a little. But he calmly put back the colors and the canvas.

He let her take her time before returning to her, letting the fabric fall back over her ankles and twisting a strand of her hair back and forth between his fingers. ,,We'll finish it, I promise, my flower," he murmured and after a time that was almost too long he opened the rope and took it with him.

He helped her up from the chair and in an act of lust kissed her wrist prints. He heard her surprised gasp but she did not pull away. ,,For your effort, I'll bring you a rose next time, it goes with the picture," he said and saw her nod a little before she lowered her gaze again and shut up. But by the time the dean arrived, his daughter had already put on her gloves and was reading again.

But the shot and the kiss still seemed to burn like the cave fire that would await Frollo after he landed in the grave. But as this would still have time, because first the devil would go to the flower sooner or later. Sooner or later she would be his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@ria-coolgirl , @hesperia24 , @aliensthegreat , @strangecrowd133 , @her3ge , @fantadym @ranminfan , @siwucha , @cat-lover-nile

[juliusceasersblog]

Mea-culpa

Warning, this is the first fanfiction I've written since 2021.... anyway!!

In this story, y/n is a not so innocent nun. She and the "beloved" Archdeacon of Paris are close. *Extremely* close.

Kinks ( innocence, degradation, sadism, masochist, size difference, breeding, orgasm control, age play )

Click, click, clack

The noise vibrated through the Cathedral as she walked. Pushing through the doors of the kitchen where Reverend mother Jaqueline was waiting.

"Those shoes of yours are absolutely far too loud, sister y/n." The stout woman replied as she walked over to younger girl.

"My apologies, Reverend mother..'' she spoke with a slight whimper at the end of her sentence. "They were given to me by my late sister. She passed of the pox." Y/n spoke with a shutter.

"I know child. You told me when you were in your novice training." The greying lady spoke. "I did?" Y/n shrugged. "I must've forgotten about it." The nun shrugged again.

"Archdeacon Frollo is requesting your presence in the hall of justice. Questions about the orphans singing at the Christmas mass." Reverend mother explained.

The Young nun sighed. "He couldn't call on sister Margaret?'' Y/n called out as she busied herself with pulling a cloth off rising sour dough. "He told me he'd like to talk to you in specific." Reverend mother explained.

"Alright. I suppose we did Have a rather interesting conversation at Thanksgiving mass." Y/n explained with a smile.

"Oh goodness. I suppose I should get going if Archdeacon Frollo would like to speak to me before the midnight bells begin to ring." Y/n laughed. "I'll see you in confession Reverend mother." The young girl smiled as she walked out of the kitchen.

The walk to The hall of justice was a cold one. Frost had accumulated around the windows of the Cathedral and as y/n threw her dark wool coat on. A ring of fur was around the collar of the coat. Another gift from Claudette. Y/n's late sister.

Y/n exited the Cathedral and the cold air of the parisian winter hit her in the face. The walk to The palace of justice was not a lengthy walk by any means.

But as y/n walked up the steps of the hall. Raising her hand to knock on the door. But before her fist could meet the door. A young soldier opened the door.

His blonde hair was rested against his head as a halo would rest against a angels head. "Hello, sister. I don't believe we know eacho-'' the young man was inturrupted ny the sister.

"Captian, we have met on several occasions. At Thanksgiving mass and at the children's benefit last week. Phoebus. Am I correct?'' Y/n said with a small smile spreading across her face. A light blush across her cheeks now.

"Oh- yes- your the one who I pulled under the stai-" the capitan cleared his throat as a hand was pressed to his shoulder. Spindly fingers that were adorned with rings and such.

"Ah, capitan Phoebus. Nice to see that you've found the woman of the hour." The Archdeacon snapped. "I've been waiting well over an hour for you. Sister." Claude clapped quickly. Escorting her up to his office.

The Archdeacon pressed the door of his office shut. Humming and handing y/n a paper. A large scroll of parchment with 3 unsigned signature marks. "Here.'' He said.

Pointing at the spot where the sister had to sign. "I need Reverend mothers signature as well." Claude explained as y/n dipped her quill in ink and Began to write her name.

"Of course, these things must be in order for the matron of the orphanage. She expects everything in pristine order. Although she is paying for none of it.'' Frollo laughed stiffly.

"Thats unfortunate. I suppose they don't have much money.'' Y/n shrugged as she handed the parchment back to Claude with a small smile.

"I do have to wonder. Sister. About something I over heard.." the Archdeacon started out. "With your novice training, you are not supposed to be having any sexual relations. And as I've seen on several occasions. You clearly aren't following any of your training." Claude smirked as he stalked towards the young lady.

"Excuse me? How dare to talk to me like that. This is highly inappropriate conduct." The sister shuttered. Had he seen captian Phoebus on his knees. Eating her out as the churchgoers got the holy communion.

"If you don't want you and your .. sun-god to be exposed to the entire church. I suppose you give me what." The older man smirked. Standing behind the sister.

"Your just like the rest of them aren't you? Men, you all want the same thing in the end.'' Y/n snapped.

Before the young woman could tell what was happening. Claudes arm had traveled up to y/n's face. His hand colliding with the nun's face. Earning a yelp from the sister.

Her face became quickly red. Her hand had sat upon her cheek. Whining softly. Y/n took her hand from her face. Putting them on Claude's chest. Resting against frollo with a whine.

Frollo took her face in his hand. Her chin in his forefinger and middle finger. His thumb resting against y/n's jaw. Bringing his lips to brush against the sisters own.

Frollos kiss was soon inturrupted as y/n bumped against his desk. She sat down and the Archdeacon yanked her skirt up. Kissing up her thigh. Nipping at the inside. Drawing blood.

Y/n let out a groan of pleasure as she pulled her habit off. Her hair sliding around to frame her face and shoulders. "Just- please fuck me already." The sister begged.

Claude brought his hand to cover the young woman's mouth. "Don't have such foul language in the house of justice.'' Claude said sternly. Standing up and undoing his robes. Black pants and a black shirt adorned his body.

Unbuttoned his pants quickly. Opening his hand. "Spit in it." He said quickly. Lathering his cock in y/n's spit. Groaning and taking her undergarments off quickly. Pushing into the girl as she put her hands on claudes shoulders.

Moving so y/n threw her head back. Moaning loudly and biting on Frollo's neck. "You certainly don't sound like a virgin.'' The Archdeacon taunted.

Y/n scoffed. "How many anatomy books have you looked at to know how sex works?" The sister taunted in response. Watching as claude growled lowly. Feeling his neck being bitten.

Claude let his hand move lower. Circling y/ns clit with tight and hard circles. Smirking as she bit down on her hand to draw blood.

The sister nearly came then and there. How was he so good at this? Was he a virgin. His movements inside of her said otherwise.

Frollos cock was large. Longer than it was girthier. Looking upon the girl as he felt her thighs began to shake. The soft flesh of her thighs shaking as she came around his cock. "F-fuck-'' the nun cried out.

"That was fast. Shall I cum inside you? On your ass? Your bosom?'' Claude called out.

"Inside of me- please?'' She begged. Claude was close himself. His age had been catching up with him snd he could tell he couldn't last as he used to.

Frollo came deep inside her. Spilling his seed all over her womb and kissing her as he did so...

_________________

That's it... #Yolo

[flowerandblood]

The Doubt & The Delight

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt ]

[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]

Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Epilogue

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

This is the last part of this story. Thank you all for such a nice reception of this entire mini-series, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as usual it turned out to be something more! This is probably one of my favorite works here and I can't wait to hear your opinions.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous chapters: Masterlist

_____

That night, after what had happened between them, he sobbed silently for the first time since the day of the accident in which his parents died. He didn't know what else he could do − he felt helpless and couldn't sleep, despair completely possessing his heart and mind.

Don't ever touch me again.

We are even.

He clenched his eyelids, letting the tears run down the sides of his face onto the pillow lying under his head.

Some part of him wanted to go to her door, to fall to his knees and beg her to open it for him, to let him hold her close, to fall asleep in her embrace.

He needed her so much, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her.

She was doing more than she had to anyway.

He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening; stupefied by the sedatives and painkillers for a moment he had no idea where he was or who he was − he raised himself up on his elbow and hissed, feeling his head ache incredibly.

He opened his eyelids and immediately closed them, blinded by the light from the windows − he gave up with a sigh laying back on the couch, trying to calm himself down.

"Daeron?" He called out loudly, trying to remember what had happened, whether he had drunk too much alcohol the evening before or overdosed on sleeping pills.

He heard someone's footsteps and froze when he saw her frightened face; she came towards him with her eyes wide open as if looking at a ghost, stopping at a safe distance.

"− I'm just helping him change, we'll come soon − God, how pale you are, should I call the doctor again? −" She muttered clearly genuinely horrified by his condition, but he shook his head quickly.

"− did you call the police yesterday? −" He asked lowly, thinking with horror that no one at the prosecutor's office could find out that he was still struggling with his trauma and had almost caused a car crash.

She shook her head quickly, playing with the fingers of her hand in a nervous gesture.

"− n-no − the man we almost collided with wanted to do it at first, but when we got out of the car and said you'd fainted he called an ambulance and let it go − he apparently decided you'd just had some sort of attack and didn't want to add to our problems −" She replied once looking him in the eye, once looking away − he could see that she clearly wasn't coping with the situation or what had happened between them.

He sighed in relief, running his hand over his face, thinking about the fact that securing Daeron's fate was now his priority and he needed to pull himself together.

"− I'm going to go help Daeron and we'll make something for breakfast soon −" She said quickly and turned away, moving down the corridor towards his little brother's room, disappearing behind the door.

The two of them had tried not to look at each other all morning, heartbroken and horrified by what had happened between them − they both felt that their lives had slipped out of their control and he resented himself for dragging her into it all.

The doctors advised him to stay at home for a few days and rest, so he called Alys to ask her to bring him his documentation.

"− sick leave? − something happened? −" She asked concerned, and he sighed heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, not having the strength for this discussion.

"− I've been overworking lately, I need to slow down − can I count on you? −" He asked matter-of-factly, hearing her snort of amusement on the other side.

"− sure − I'll be there in half an hour −" She replied calmly and hung up; he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and put the phone down on the table top.

He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sizzle of the pan and shuddered meeting her gaze − she lowered her eyes immediately as if caught in the act, concentrating on not burning the pancakes, Daeron wheeled around her in his wheelchair placing clean plates and cutlery beside her.

They ate breakfast together, both of them really only talking to Daeron, passing cups and juice to each other out of politeness only. He felt a pleasant shudder when his fingers touched hers, looking her straight in the eyes − her lower lip twitched a little, only a quiet, sad thank you came out of her mouth.

As they ate Daeron said he would do his own homework and then change her to look after him, as if he was now the one to take on the role of his caretaker.

As he left his Esmeralda stood up, picking up the dirty dishes from the countertop − he took his plate from her hand, swallowing hard.

"− no need, I'll do it − I'm better now, I don't want to force you to stay here any longer than necessary − thank you very much −" He said in a low voice, getting up from his seat and stepping around her, opening the dishwasher with a light movement, tossing in the cutlery and other dirty dishes she'd held earlier.

He felt her looking at him, his heart pounding like crazy, for some reason he wanted to cry again.

"− I'm sorry − for what happened yesterday −" She muttered in a whisper and he raised his shocked gaze to her, frozen still.

She stood in front of him covering her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the loud, ragged breath that shook her body along with the sob that wanted to break from her throat, tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes one after another.

God, she was remorseful.

"− no − no, stop − you didn't do anything wrong, I wanted it −" He said quickly, but she shook her head.

"− I couldn't sleep − I felt awful −" She uttered with difficulty, choking on her own tears, and despite her telling him never to touch her again he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one sure movement − her body did not put up any resistance to him, her fingers tightened on his sweatshirt in a helpless gesture.

"− I-I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out and burst into quiet sobs.

He thought with despair that he had broken this poor girl, brought her to a state where she felt like an abuser.

He embraced her tightly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, stroking her back reassuringly − her wonderful scent and the warmth of her body had a soothing effect on him, he thought he wanted to remember this moment for a lifetime.

"− I'm the one who hurt you − I took something away from you and you tried to get it back − you asked me if I wanted it and I made it clear that I did − easy − breathe deeply − it's all right −" He whispered in a trembling voice, running his large hand through her back and hair. She snuggled into him so tightly that he felt tears under his eyelids himself − he pressed his lips together not wanting to let them flow out but it was no use.

"− thank you for everything − I'm feeling better now, I'll be fine by the time Helaena arrives − go home and get some rest − I'll think of something and explain to Daeron why you can't work for us anymore − I'll send you your pay by transfer so you never have to see me again − hm? −" He asked softly and she only nodded, her whole chest trembling in convulsion as she drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her.

He wanted to tell her that she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.

He wanted to tell her that if she ever needed help, she could always count on him.

He wanted to do that, but he only flinched when he heard the doorbell ring, reminding himself of Alys − they moved away looking at each other in pain, the sight of her wiping her cheeks red from tears broke his heart.

He realised that he was a monster.

As soon as he opened the gate for her, Alys walked into his house with thick folders of documents in her hands, looking elegant as usual in her jacket, long trousers and high heels. She smiled at the sight of his Esmeralda, and she pressed her lips together realising with horror that she stood dressed only in his hoodie.

"Good morning. We don't know each other yet." Alys said to her and held out her hand to her − she, not knowing what to do, herself embarrassed by the situation and how it looked shook her hand, squeezing it firmly.

"Good morning." She muttered and just threw to him that she was going to go see how Daeron was doing with his homework − Alys led her away with her eyes looking at her with a calm, curious expression on her face.

"Who is this beautiful little flower? In addition wearing your hoodie I think." She asked amused, a note of mock accusation in her voice, as if she had solved the equation. "Is it because of her that you can't concentrate lately?"

He threw her one warning, sharp look, which did not deter her, however − he sighed heavily and shook his head.

"She's Daeron's caretaker and she had to stay here to help me take care of him after I fainted yesterday. They were at a carnival ball together and she had nothing to change into." He replied coolly, wanting to end the subject quickly, frustrated.

"Is that why you both cried?" She asked lowly raising an eyebrow, the piercing look in her bright green eyes told him clearly that she felt the tension that hung in the air between them. He swallowed loudly, looking away, not wanting to look at her smile full of satisfaction.

"Thank you for bothering to come all the way out here. I'll be gone for a week, we're in touch." He replied dryly − she threw over his shoulder that if he needed her for anything he could count on her and smiled at his Esmeralda heading for the exit, saying it was a pleasure to meet her.

As the door closed behind her there was an awkward silence between them. He saw that she was wearing his hoodie and shorts that were too loose on his brother but on her they fit perfectly despite the manly cut, in her hand she held the bag with her costume.

She was leaving.

He will never see her again.

"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked uncertainly, not looking at him. She seemed pale to him, he thought that for some reason Alys' visit had saddened her, but he didn't even dare assume it might have had anything to do with him.

At most, she might have thought he was a bigger bastard and pervert than she suspected.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Thanks again." He muttered, trying not to look at her, but to poor effect, thinking only of how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, how tightly she snuggled into him seeking refuge and comfort.

He realised that he craved such closeness from her as much as the touch of her naked body.

He wasn't just about sex.

She, however, merely nodded, raising her sad, tired, embittered gaze at him once more, and after a moment she turned and disappeared behind the door.

The hours leading up to Helaena's arrival he spent with Daeron, playing together FIFA'23 and other games that his brother thought would distract him from all the unpleasant events of the past weeks.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine. You just need to rest. It's good that you and Esmeralda have reconciled." He said clicking beside him on his pad, trying to win a race against him on the big space track. He swallowed hard, thinking with pain and shame that they hadn't reconciled at all, that they weren't even.

What she did was a desperate attempt by her to regain what he had taken from her, the feeling that she had power over her own body.

It didn't bring her any relief though − it seemed to him that it made her feel even worse.

She wasn't like him − she'd probably never behaved like this before, and she was horrified to find that she didn't recognise herself.

He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence, devoured her.

He pressed his lips together, trying to stop the burning tears that forced their way under his eyelids from flowing and grunted loudly, trying to focus on the game.

As he prepared the room where his sister was to sleep, and where his Esmeralda had previously spent the night, he noticed a purple cloth lying on the floor. He reached out and picked it up, realising after a moment that it was a scarf she had worn on her head in the form of a headband.

He pressed it to his face and closed his eyes, with a squeeze in his throat thinking that the material was permeated with her scent.

He kept it.

Helaena had arrived straight from the airport in a taxi for which she had paid crores − as soon as she stepped inside she dropped her suitcase, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms. He burst out sobbing, feeling her familiar, tender closeness.

He wasn't sure when was the last time someone had hugged him, stroked him, told him everything was going to be alright, that now he was the one being taken care of.

Taking the opportunity that Daeron was playing in his room on his laptop, they sat side by side on the living room couch to discuss what had happened.

"I think I've stopped coping. I'm slowly losing my self-control." He muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he needed to at least partially throw off what was going on inside his head − he felt his sister stroking his back comfortingly.

"Me and Aegon left you alone with all of this, sinking into our own grief. We all focused on Daeron because we decided you were older and better able to handle it all." She said with pain and some kind of regret, as if she only now realised that he wasn't a fully formed adult then either.

He let the air out of his lungs, feeling like a small, clumsy child again, embarrassed that he wasn't coping, that he had chaos in his head, that he was stuck and unable to get out of the mess he had sunk all the way into.

"I thought it would be good for you to have a change. For you and Daeron to fly with me for a few weeks, get some rest, during which time we can work together to find you some sort of therapist, someone to help you get over all this." She said warmly, and he shook his head quickly, terrified of her suggestion, of having to reinvent himself somewhere, of not being in his home, of not having his things and activities.

"No, I can't do that. I need a rest, but here, at home. I do think, however, that it will do Daeron good to spend time with you, to get away from it all. Maybe when I have a bit of time to myself I can somehow…sort it all out." He muttered, feeling her worried gaze on him.

"You shouldn't be left alone."

"I haven't been alone with my thoughts for five years. I need this." He said regretfully, realising that he had devoted all his strength to his younger brother, leaving himself with nothing.

He felt empty.

"And he needs a change of environment. He sees me gloomy and tired every day. You will help me the most if you take care of him for a week or two so that I can get myself in order."

"You have to promise me that you will go to therapy. You're taking on too much on your shoulders." She said cautiously, and he nodded to her, wanting everyone to finally give him a break.

Daeron was at the same time happy about the sudden unplanned holiday, but on the other hand very worried that he was going to be left alone at home.

"But who will take care of you? Esmeralda?" He asked hesitantly, and he replied that he would manage on his own, that they would talk on the phone every day, that he just needed a bit of rest to think things over.

As they packed to leave he was with them in body, but not in thoughts which drifted far away to her, to what had happened between them.

Despite the fact that they had sex with each other twice, it was the memory of that morning in his kitchen when he held her in his embrace that he remembered most, the innocence and tenderness of that gesture, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the fact that for a moment she had allowed him to get close to her.

He knew he would never see her again.

Waving them off, already seated in the taxi, watching them drive away he wondered what the point of living such a terrible person like him was.

He cleaned the whole house, sorted the papers in his office, put up the laundry and emptied the dishwasher, doing everything unhurriedly with complete silence all around him, only the sound of the wind outside the windows and the quiet pounding of raindrops against the windowsills.

He finally sat down on the sofa, staring dully ahead, before lowering his gaze to the small container of sleeping pills he'd been taking for days to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He wondered how many he'd have to swallow to not wake up.

He didn't know why his hand reached for his phone − his fingers tapped out a question on Google and, to his surprise, many different topics on forums about how to commit suicide painlessly popped up.

He read statements from some young, desperate, frightened people who couldn't cope with life and responses from others, some encouraging them to commit the act and explaining how to do it, others asking them not to do it, that they would be happy to talk to them, to support them through this difficult time.

He thought of Daeron, of how if he had done it, his little brother would have completely broken down, that it would only add to the pain of his whole family, and that Helaena would never forgive herself for leaving him alone.

That it would have been selfish of him.

On the other hand, his mind reminded him of his aggressive, merciless interrogations, the way he approached witnesses, the way he approached Alys, what he did to his Esmeralda when she recognised at once his malicious, dark nature.

How was someone like him supposed to continue to take care of Daeron? How was he supposed to pretend that he was a good man who could advise him on anything, be his authority?

He thought that his little brother should have stayed with Helaena − she was the calmest of them all, surely she would have handled his parenting much better, given him what he needed.

He reached for a small container of pills and stared at it, turning it between his fingers with a loud rattle, wondering dispassionately what he should do with himself.

He hummed as if he remembered something and slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a thin, purple folded cloth − he looked at it, feeling the need to call her.

He didn't know why he would do that when he was sure she didn't want to see him and couldn't even look at Daeron, to whom he would have to explain why she would no longer be taking care of him upon his return.

He guessed that she would only pick up out of politeness, and he would again flood her with his problems, his suicidal thoughts, forcing her to worry about him, to feel sorry for him even though he didn't deserve her sympathy.

He didn't even know when he unscrewed the container, when he tilted his head and poured its entire contents into his mouth, taking a deep sip of water after this, letting his judgment of himself run deep into his stomach.

He seemed to regain his sanity only after a moment, staring at the empty vessel wondering what he had actually done.

Oh fuck.

God, what had he done?

No, no, no, no.

He went into a complete panic, his heart started pounding like crazy − he didn't know how much time he had before he lost consciousness, so in a gesture of helplessness he dialled her number quickly, wondering if she would answer from him this time.

He thought he was pathetic, but he was scared, there was no one else to turn to − his body was shaking all over from stress and terror, his breathing quick and raspy, tears of fear in his eyes.

Biip.

Biip.

Biip.

Biip.

Biip.

Biip.

Biip.

"− hello? −"

He heard her uncertain voice on the other side and drew in the air loudly, shocked, swallowing hard, taking a deep breath, running his hand over his face.

"− fuck − I − I − I did something very, very stupid − I took a whole packet of sleeping pills − I don't know what came over me − oh fuck, what have I done −" He muttered in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, like a helpless child who had broken a vase and realised what his parent would do to him when they found out.

"− what? − oh God − are you home? − I'm calling the ambulance −"

"− n-no − no, fuck, they'll kick me out of the national prosecutor's office − please −"

"− go quickly to the bathroom and try to induce vomiting − give me the code to your gate, I'll be right there −"

He seemed to act in an amok, as he rose from the couch everything around him swirled − she told him to take his phone to the restroom, so he did.

He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers down his throat − after several attempts he finally threw up, whooping with his tears, coughing loudly, his whole body shaking in convulsions, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

How could he do this, how could he be so selfish?

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled, sliding slowly to the ground, feeling his mind begin to envelope in a blissful peace and quiet, her voice coming from the speaker of his phone seemed to him only a distant whisper.

He thought he would take a nap for a while, rest and when he woke up everything would be fine.

It seemed to him that minutes, hours or years might have passed when he felt someone move his body − he shuddered as someone's fingers forced their way between his lips, his numb body powerless to resist.

"− come on, please − get it out of you − God, what have you done − please, please, come on −" He heard her crying beside him, the tips of her fingers pressing against the back of his tongue, until finally his stomach convulsed with a powerful spasm, and his body threw it all out with his throaty cough of exertion.

He heard her sobs, smelled her scent, her closeness, how her hands washed his face with water, how she stroked his head as she hugged him to her breasts, mumbling in despair that he was a fool, something warm and soft enveloped them.

He fell asleep, recognising that this was what heaven must have been like.

When he woke up he felt everything around him spinning − he muttered in displeasure, another cramp squeezing his stomach.

He pulled himself up, in the dark looking for the toilet, at the last moment leaning over it and vomited again, panting loudly, everything around him blurred, it seemed to him that it was morning.

He heard movement beside him − someone's hand touched his back and stroked him with a gentle, affectionate gesture as convulsion again shook his body, which was trying with all its might to rid itself of what he had swallowed the day before.

Nothing more than a mumble left his mouth, his head drooped involuntarily − he felt someone pull him back to keep him from sliding down onto the tiles. He lay down, something soft enveloped him again.

"− it's okay − sleep −" He heard her whisper and thought that the pills he had taken were causing him to hallucinate, that he was probably dreaming it all, and since he was and she wasn't really there he could embrace her, his arm grabbed her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts again with his loud purr of contentment and exhaustion.

He felt her hands embrace him, stroking his head and back − he thought, feeling the hard floor beneath him, that they were lying in the bathroom and she must have brought the duvet and pillows from his bedroom, sleeping in that room with him.

He fell asleep and woke up hearing someone walking around his house, once in a while someone touched his head − he heard her voice asking him some questions that he was unable to focus on − she was only answered by his frustrated sounds indicating that he just wanted to sleep on.

Finally when he opened his eyes he managed to see anything − the bathroom door was open, the light in the room was off. He had a perfect view of the corridor and part of the living room lit up in the sun − he heard someone's footsteps, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.

"− hey − hey, how are you feeling? −" She muttered walking up to him and kneeling beside him, her loose hair in a slight disarray, she was wearing shorts and a plain white Tshirt. He looked away from her breasts when he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, swallowing hard.

He didn't reply, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame, remembering what he had done, how disgusting and selfish he had acted, that he had forced her to help him again despite having caused her such harm.

"− I − I would like to talk to some therapist −" He choked out with tears in his eyes, not looking at her but somewhere in front of him, his breathing shallow and uneven − it seemed to him as if his lungs had completely clenched.

"− alright − alright, I'll look for someone nearby − okay? −" She asked tentatively and he just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. He heard her get up quickly, and a moment later she was back, sitting down next to him with her phone in her hand, typing something quickly on her screen, apparently scrolling through the accounts of doctors who had offices in the same town.

"− there's a Dr Smith, he's got a free appointment in two days at one o'clock in the afternoon, or a Dr Morgan, but he… −"

"− anyone − as soon as possible −" He said dispassionately, looking blankly ahead, heard her swallow hard and click something quickly, heard his phone vibrate beside him on the floor.

"− I've booked you an appointment and sent you details via message −" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"− thank you − you can −"

"− I spoke to your sister on the phone while you were asleep and told her everything − we agreed that Daeron will stay with her and I'll watch over you until your first appointment −" She said coldly with some kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling his body tremble and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.

He shuddered, looking at her in disbelief as she slipped her purple scarf out of the pocket of her tracksuit shorts, the same one he'd found on the floor and kept. She tied her hair with it, combing it into a ponytail, staring straight into his eyes.

"I found this on your couch. Did you think of me before you did it?" She asked, with soft, sure flicks of her fingers arranging her curls as she saw fit. He swallowed hard at her question, feeling a burning sense of embarrassment.

"− yes −" He sighed. She let out a quiet breath at his words, placing her hands on her thighs.

"− are you able to get up? −"

With her help he managed to rise with difficulty − he brushed his teeth feeling the still disgusting taste of vomit and acid on his tongue and then lay down on the sofa, grabbing his head. He watched her silhouetted in the kitchen as she opened the cupboards one by one until she found his first aid kit.

He saw her throw away all the packets of sleeping pills he had.

"− hey −" He threw to her wrinkling his eyebrows, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without them.

"− you'd better not speak −" She said warningly, without giving him a single glance, so he gave in, sighing heavily and closing his eyes, figuring there was no point in arguing.

To his surprise she moved around the rooms as if this was her home, sat down next to him at the other end of the sofa with an apple in her hand and turned on the TV as if nothing had happened. He looked at her, wondering if she was really going to sit here for days, but then decided it didn't matter.

When he finally got the phone call from Helaena he listened to almost half an hour of a litany from her about how irresponsible and selfish he was, only to hear a moment later that she loved him very much and that he needed to start taking care of himself − he assured her several times that he already had an appointment with a therapist, and Esmeralda wouldn't leave his side.

"− is that what you call me? −" She asked quietly after he had hung up, looking at the TV screen on which the news had just been airing. He looked at her surprised, realising that it wasn't actually her real name after all.

"− yes −" He replied lowly, playing with his phone between his fingers.

They didn't talk much to each other apart from the usual basic politeness. After a couple of hours he felt well enough to get up − he was still dizzy and still had no appetite, but he drank plenty of water and thought with relief that the danger had passed.

Evening finally fell and, tired after all that had happened, he simply headed upstairs to his bedroom, wanting to give her some solitude and privacy.

Changing into his pyjamas, which consisted of a simple t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms, he shuddered and looked in disbelief at the door to his room when it opened, her figure stepping inside as if nothing had happened, climbing on his bed, lying under his duvet, turning her back to him.

What?

He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should say something or not, but in the end he couldn't resist.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to sleep. I'm tired. Could you turn out the light?" She asked quietly.

He grunted and, as she requested, walked over to the switch, flicking it, complete darkness fell all around them.

The thought that she was going to sleep in the same bed with him, even if only to keep an eye on him, made him instantly hard.

He lay down at a safer distance behind her, looking at her back and neck, knowing that she could feel his breath, but not daring to touch her.

He wondered if she was punishing him this way, showing him that she was at his fingertips, but after what he had done there was nothing else he could do but watch.

It would have been enough for him if he could have just jerked off looking at her, concentrating on her scent and the fact that she was next to him, but he felt he had no right to bring himself relief after all of this.

He didn't deserve it.

That's why he was just dying in agony, writhing − without his pills despite his fatigue he could not fall asleep, on top of that he was too aroused, her closeness was driving him crazy.

"− will you stop squirming? − I can't sleep −" She muttered at last, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He felt his lips part involuntarily in desire at the sight of her face, at the thought that she didn't have a bra under her shirt, that there were her lovely breasts under that material that he could caress all night.

"− sorry −" He just choked out, trying to calm his breathing, his cock pulsed painfully swollen under the material of his sweatpants.

He made big eyes and flinched, embarrassed as she pushed back the duvet that covered them both, her gaze going to his trousers and what was going on inside them.

A tense silence fell between them − he could feel his whole body quivering with desire, grief and shame.

He wondered if she would mock his state and his desperation.

"− we can do it if you want − like civilised people − I'd like to experience some sleep tonight −" She said softly and he looked at her in disbelief, the bulge in his sweatpants twitched hard at her words.

"− are you sure? − I wouldn't −"

"− make me feel good −" She said quietly.

He drew in the air loudly as she said this, grabbing the material of her t-shirt and lifting it, pulling it over her head, revealing her lovely breasts to him.

She sighed loudly when his face immediately pressed against her nipple, alternately sucking and licking it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her back. She moaned quietly, surprised when he pulled her to him, her palms sliding into his hair, holding him close.

They lay on their sides, embracing each other in a tight grasp. He wriggled in disbelief and delight, willing and eager to show her how much he regretted it, how much he desired her, how much he loved her − his hand grasped tentatively her other breast, kneading it with his fingers.

"− so soft −" He gasped, listening to her quiet sighs of pleasure. He felt her throw her leg against his waist, which he grasped confidently, clenching his fingers on her thigh and pulled her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbed impatiently beneath his trousers, hitting her stomach.

"− how −" He asked between flicks of his tongue licking and sucking her hard, puffy nipple like a little child, stroking the soft skin of her hips. He slipped his hand under the material of her shorts, tracing his fingertips over her plump buttocks, wanting to be sure that this time he would do everything the way she needed it, give her pleasure and reassurance, at the pace and the way she wanted it.

She stroked his hair at his question and placed a short, warm kiss on his forehead − he murmured lowly as he felt her begin to rub against him, encouraging him to do the same, his lips letting go of her nipple with a loud plop to look at her.

"− you on top − but touch me down there first −" She whispered embarrassedly, turning onto her back, pulling his arm behind her, looking at him with a gaze hot with desire and affection.

He leaned in, letting his swollen lips brush hers, which responded immediately to his caress, her fingers cupping his neck, deepening the kiss.

"− mmm −" She hummed, squirming beneath him. He ran his hand down her body, in a tentative, unhurried motion slipping his hand under the material of her shorts, wanting to give her time to react, but she sensing this spread her thighs wider, easing his access, his fingers finally running over her swollen, hot, wet womanhood.

"− God, little one − I want to use my mouth here −" He gasped appreciatively, thinking only of the fact that he had been dreaming of this for weeks. He smiled involuntarily when he saw her nod quickly, her sweet, full lips parted in an accelerated breath.

"− okay −" She whispered quietly, letting him slide the material of her shorts and underwear off her − he marvelled at the sight of her naked body, thinking with some kind of emotion that he felt like crying.

"− so beautiful −" He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, on her womb, on her hip, on her thigh, knee and calf. He looked at her and noticed that she was watching him intently, her breasts rising and falling in uneven breaths, her hands on either side of her head.

"− come here −" He murmured softly, in a gentle motion pushing her hips closer to him, spreading them in front of him − he heard her gasp loudly as he leaned over her bared flesh. He let his hot breath envelop her skin before his nose ran over her hot, soft womanhood, his lips lazily clinging to her folds, placing a lingering, sticky kiss on them.

He tightened his hands on her thighs when he felt her throw her head back with a sweet, surprised moan, her fingers traveling to his short hair, stroking it in impatient motion, pressing his face close to her body.

"− please −" She mumbled, and he huffed with amusement, trailing his lips up to her puffy clit, sliding then down to her leaking, swollen slit, teasing her barely, not giving her what she needed.

"− no − we're going to do this very, very slowly − with due respect to you −" He hummed contentedly, feeling some kind of pride that he could do it this way, could give it to her and be what she needed.

She whimpered softly, writhing before him, her breathing quickened and shuddered, her body trembling in his hands, thirsting for fulfilment.

"− don't be cruel −" She mumbled resentfully, as if she thought he was teasing and taunting her. He sighed quietly, placing a warm, hot kiss on her sticky skin − a surprised, loud moan escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue suddenly forced its way inside her, deeper and deeper with each stroke, imposing an intense, fast pace on her.

"− o-oh fuck, yes, lick me −" She mewled, clenching her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips against his face, trying to find a more intense source of rubbing. He smirked under his breath as he discovered after a moment between her fleshy muscles the spot he was looking for, her whines increasingly pathetic and helpless, her walls beginning to throb around his tongue.

He heard her whimper his name, her whole body tensed as if she was trying to break away from him, but he didn't stop, letting her come on his face.

He purred contentedly as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her tight entrance, determined to make sure he licked every drop and not let anything go to waste despite her cries.

He surprised her when he didn't pull away, but repeated all the steps from the beginning, slowing his pace again, merely teasing her with his lips, her body twitching at his every move, overstimulated and delicate.

"− n-no more − I want you inside me −" She mumbled softly, and he looked up at her, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling her words in his trousers.

Even though he planned to spend the whole night between her thighs, he couldn't refuse such a request.

"− it's okay − there you go −" He hummed, rising to his knees, slipping his sweatpants down just enough to release his swollen, hard erection leaking from his precum. He placed one hand next to her head, the other guiding the fat, pink head of his cock between her widely spread thighs.

"− such a good girl − hm? − my sweet little baby, am I right? −" He cooed and she nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes hazed with desire − it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, that she didn't believe he was the same man she had met then.

He didn't believe it himself, but it felt wonderful.

They both sighed loudly when, with one slow thrust, he opened her wide on his swollen length, leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers, her trembling hand rising to stroke his cheek, her lips pressed to his in a warm, innocent kiss.

He murmured contentedly, forcing her to fit all of him inside her with an impatient thrust of his hips − he heard her quiet cry of discomfort and surprise and swallowed loudly feeling his manhood pulsing intensely inside her, so hungry for her closeness.

She closed his waist between her legs, crossing them over his back, and he lay on top of her, pulling his t-shirt off quickly, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her, feeling her little, puffy nipples on his naked chest.

She sighed sweetly, looking up at him dreamily, trailing her fingers down his face and neck as he slipped out of her only to sink into her again a moment later with a loud click of her moisture − she was all wet and warm inside after her intense orgasm, her muscles squeezing him wonderfully from all sides.

"− that's it − just like that - it's okay −" He whispered tenderly, letting himself sink into the taste of her sticky, plump lips again, her hands trailing down his sweaty, muscled back as he involuntarily sped up his pace, pressing his nose to her cheek, slamming into her with more and more sure, brutal thrusts of his hips, groaning low along with her.

"− oh, fuck, baby −" He gasped, listening to her moans of pleasure, her insides wonderfully warm and tight, quivering all over in sensation, soaking him wet. He began to root aggressively into her weeping cunt panting hard, all around them only the loud sound of their moist, naked bodies slapping quickly against each other.

"− please − please − please −" She mumbled out looking up at him with her mouth wide open, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his back − he could feel her walls clench around him tighter, sucking him inside. He shuddered hard at her words, focusing now only on rooting again and again into her warm, fleshy interior.

"− I don't know if I'm going to let you sleep tonight − I think I'd rather do this with you instead −" He breathed out into her mouth, pushing his tongue deep into her throat − he felt her body shake as she convulsed, her hands clenched painfully hard on his body as she came a second time with sweet mewl of effort, panting loudly as if she couldn't catch her breath, her muscles began to throb greedily around his cock, sucking him inside.

He tilted his head back and sighed in relief, a few sloppy, rough thrusts prolonging the inevitable − his warm cum spilled deep inside her, a hot wave of pleasure surging through his lungs.

He crushed her with his body, feeling their bodies quivering and twitching all over, both of them panting hard as if they had run a marathon, their hands running blindly over each other's naked skin as if they wanted to calm and soothe each other.

"− I love you −" He muttered, lying with his eyes closed, his nose snuggled into her hot, soft cheek. "− you know that, don't you? −"

"− yes −" She answered him quietly, and he sighed heavily, snuggling into her like a small child.

That much was enough for him.

He didn't expect anything from her.

He just wanted her to know it.

He spent that night as if in a frenzy, holding her close, embracing her from behind tightly with his arms, their legs entwined together in disarray. He fell asleep with his face pressed against her hair, completely overwhelmed by her wonderful scent, the warmth of her naked body, one of her hands placed on his making sure he didn't let go of her soft breasts.

They hadn't said much to each other after they awoke − when he turned her face towards him and he just sank into her swollen lips in a sticky, hot kiss. She purred sleepily at this caress, her fingertips running over his jaw.

She let him take her a second time then, from behind this time − she was so wet from their shared moisture that he slid into her without much difficulty, stretching her wonderfully tight walls with a sigh of delight.

He rooted into her with lazy, slow thrusts of his hips, making sure that each time the fat head of his cock rubbed her sweet spot, one of his hands playing with her puffy, little nipple, the other sunk deep between her thighs, teasing her swollen clit.

"− do you want me to stop? −" He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head, digging her fingers into his arm with which he embraced her at the waist.

"− n-no − it feels good −" She muttered in embarrassment − he kissed her hot cheek with a sticky click of his saliva seeing her lips parted in accelerated breath, her dreamy, warm gaze.

"− so I'm afraid I'm going to fill you a second time, sweet girl −" He hummed, running the tip of his nose over her pretty face. She moaned quietly at his words, feeling him suddenly speed up, slamming into her with more confident, brutal pushes − she tilted her head back, his lips immediately pressed against her neck.

"− d-don't − don't leave marks −" She mumbled out, quickly clenching her hand in his hair − she whimpered softly as she felt his fingertips dig harder into her fleshy folds.

"− I won't, baby − shhh −" He hushed her, running his lust-swollen lips over her soft skin, feeling her weeping walls squeeze him greedily at his words, forcing him to thrust into her more aggressively, his fingers sinking into her plushy thigh, holding her in place, panting along with her.

"− ah, G-God − She babbled, responding helplessly to his movements with rocking, both of them groaning in pleasure and relief as her muscles began to clench against him in a sudden orgasm, his thighs all sticky with her wetness.

"− yes, that's it − oh baby −" He muttered, letting go, with the last of his strength thrusting into her for a moment more before his seed filled her to the brim.

He hid the tip of his nose in her hair with his eyes closed, panting loudly with pleasure, holding firmly her body trembling in fulfilment in the tight embrace of his arms.

"− can I stay inside you? −" He whispered into her ear and she only nodded, falling into slumber again a moment later.

For the first time in many years he didn't have to get up at dawn, he didn't have to focus on work, on Daeron, on anyone or anything more than himself and her.

He couldn't believe it was really happening.

He lay thinking only of the fact that he was deep inside her, that he could feel her and smell her − he placed one of his hands over her heart wanting to feel how it beat, how her chest rose and fell in calm breaths.

The days before his appointment with the psychiatrist he had spent between her thighs.

She walked around his house wearing nothing but his T-shirt and it was enough for him standing behind her to lift its fabric a little to see her lovely, plump buttocks.

"− stop − we need to eat something −" She muttered as he knelt on the kitchen tiles while she was trying to prepare dinner for them, so that he could kiss her hot, soft skin with a murmur of satisfaction. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, his fingertips collecting her moisture mingled with his semen, a reminder of what he had been doing to her all day.

"− I adore you −" He gasped, sliding his lips lower, placing warm, sticky kisses on her thighs and calves, he heard her quiet sigh.

"− does your friend know that you have a second lover? −" She asked quietly, and he froze, quickly lifting his gaze to her, understanding immediately that she was talking about Alys.

He didn't want to make a mistake and lie, but he also didn't know how to present it so she would know that it was a done deal for him.

"− I stopped seeing her after what happened between us −" He said softly getting up from his knees, looking down at her, putting an unruly lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "− I didn't see the point in it, because all I was thinking about was you −"

He confessed with a kind of pain and weariness, and she lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes looked at him piercingly, warm and gentle. He leaned in placing a long, drawn-out kiss on her forehead.

She snuggled into his chest as if seeking refuge, and he embraced her kissing the top of her head devotedly, running his large hands down her back in a reassuring, tender gesture.

"− I can't promise you anything −" She said at last, and he swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.

"− I know − I don't expect it −" He whispered, cuddling his face into her fragrant hair, closing his eyes, her closeness and her scent calming him in some strange, incomprehensible way.

"− I will always wait for you −"

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

I finally got to play Glorious Masquerade (I had to miss it last year because of college finals) and I love it so much! Hunchback of Notre Dame is one of my top Disney movies and seeing all the references made me so giddy. Also, I know they didn't do Claude for Rollo Flamme's first name since reading his name with surname first (Flamme Rollo) sounds like Frollo, but my head-canon is his younger brother's name is something derived from Joannes/Jehan because we need more acknowledgement of Jehan Frollo. Reading about Rollo's younger brother in the event made the book nerd in me so excited!

[francis-writes]

Love you to Hell and back

Reader is gender neutral

A/N: inspired by my s/i. I don't know what it is but I was bored.

Summary: Frollo discovers that his spouse of many years is the incarnation of a very powerful demon of lust. He wants to forget about them but it’s hard to bury old love. Especially when the old love is immortal.

You were sitting on your throne and sipping wine. With the last of your willpower, you decided not to check in the vision, what your husband was doing. Or rather ex-husband.

You should know better than this. He left you, he cursed you. Why were you missing him? Sure, you spent many years together but there were many men in the world more handsome than him. Smarter. Kinder. Better for you. Unfortunately, you didn’t like things that were good for you.

The door opened and your counselor entered the chamber. You showed him a comfortable armchair nearby but he only shook his head.

“You have a visitor” he informed. You raised your eyebrow, wondering what they now want for you. Deciding to help people with your powers was probably one of the worst ideas you had because you could afford a moment of peace anymore. You felt like a hellish social care: overworked, understaffed and underpaid (okay, you had your palace so maybe there weren’t so much to complain about).

“Who are they?”

“Your husband”

You almost spat out your wine. What was HE doing there? Of course, you expected him to end up in Hell, but not so quickly.

“Tell him to wait a few minutes” you quickly ran to the bathroom. Waiting will make him more humble. And you couldn’t meet him again after a few years, being sweaty, stinky and in loose clothes after work. Claude needs a reminder of what he lost. Your main specialization was lust after all!

When you finally got out, bathed and in your most luxurious, sluttiest clothes, trying to act as if it was your natural state, you found your unofficially-ex-husband walking around your chamber. He looked at everything, but you could notice that he wasn’t actually paying attention to what was around him; he was too nervous for that.

You cleared your throat. Frollo looked at you and he was clearly stunned. Putting aside your clothes, you took on your human look, the one he knew so well after 20 years of marriage (though you decided to look a bit younger than the last time he saw you).

“It’s a surprise” you said in a bit hoarse voice. You cleared your throat again and asked: “what brings you here?”

“Well, I decided it’s the best moment to talk” he straightened up, trying to show all his power and confidence. Which is hard when you stand in the middle of Hell.

“About what? I thought we already cleared everything between us” you tried not to show how nervous and excited this moment made you. Oh, you tried to forget about Claude but the mere sight of him made you feel a familiar heat in your groin. He was dressed in his everyday robe but you remember every detail of body hidden under it, every inch of skin you used to caress with your fingers. Only thing that comforted you was the knowledge that he missed your touch as well. You wouldn’t admit it but for some time you liked to spy on his dreams and you were pleased to discover that many of them include you two getting naked and wet.

“I realized that when we last saw each other I might have acted… too emotionally”

“It’s a little understatement” you stated calmly “You called me a devil’s spawn, a whore of Babylon and the curse of your life”

Frollo shifted, uneasy.

“I am utterly sorry for my behavior, you must understand that I was in a state of shock. Not everyday you discover that your spouse is a demon. I came here to ask for forgiveness”

You stepped closer and took his chin in your hand. Frollo looked in your eyes and didn’t move away even when your sharp nails dug into his skin.

“And why do you want this? I suppose you didn’t come to Hell just because you felt guilty for one argument”

For a brief moment, his gaze rested at your lips.

“I- I miss you. And I would like you to come back”

Your eyes sparked like a flame, enjoying both his desire and his submission in that moment. For all people of Paris, he might have been a despotic cruel judge. They probably thought you were trapped in that relationship. But you loved him in your own twisted way, and you admired his wickedness, all the darkest and most obsessive parts of his soul. And you had your ways to stay free under his eye. His lust was a weapon you learned to use to keep him in line. He desired you so much, he became your little puppet, ready to do everything to please you, believing the whole time that he’s the one giving orders in your relationship. Oh, how you missed having him at your feet.

“Do you want to forget the past… and be together again?”

You smiled and pulled him closer to yourself.

“Of course darling” you put your hand on the back of his neck, leaning over as if getting ready for a kiss “I never left, to be honest. Since the day you took me to your chambers, you were mine. And no devil will ever pry you from my hands. Understood?”

Frollo nodded and kissed you. You pressed your body to his, your hands roamed his back and squeezed on his flesh. He was your love. He was your slave. He was your addiction and the only thing that could bring you down.

[hannahhook7744]

Disney Descendants Random Headcanons (Part 1);

(No Kids/some kids Born Pre D1 Addition since I don't have the full list yet).

Let me Know if I'm missing any characters because I'm well aware I'm missing more than a few.

------------------------------------------------------------

Akio (number 42): He is the son of Tomiko (from Elena of Avalor).

Ally: Her dad is Pinocchio, making Pin her younger brother.

Amber Dearly: She's a waitress but still does beauty pageant events when they're in season.

Anthony Tremaine: Jacob Lathyn (The Baker from Cinderella 2) is his dad.

Anxelin Fitzherbert: She's Goth.

Arabella: She's morally gray (and had ill intentions when she stole her granddad's trident).

Ariana Rose: Grows less jealous of Audrey over time and cuts contact with their grandmother. Is very popular in college.

Artie Pendragon: Somehow ends up with a pet dragon. No one knows how it happened.

Audrey Rose: Goes on to be the CEO she always wanted to be.

Aziz: He takes after his mother in looks and personality.

Bashful Jr.: He goes by Bash and is very popular in school.

Beezlebub (The Cat): Beelzebub is the Lucifer's least favorite kitten.

Ben: Likes building miniature models and wanted to be in a band with Ben and Lonnie when he was a kid.

Big Murph: He lost his eye as a kid when rough housing with the Gaston Twins.

Bobby Hood: He's Tiger Peony's boyfriend and a sports commentator at school.

Bobby Radcliffe: is a good friend of Artie Pendragon and is very shy.

Bonny: Is the medic of Uma's crew.

Carina Potts: Wears a cooking pot as a hat.

Carlos de Vil: He becomes Henry's mentor and gets Beelzebub back.

Carter: The 'nice' twin.

Celia Facilier: Goes on to be a very successful business woman (in whatever you think she'd go on to do).

Chaca: She's Li Shang Jr's girlfriend and Kuzco is very protective of her, much to her and his wife's bemusement.

Chad Charming: Redeems himself sometime after d3 and leaves to find himself.

Cheerful: Is emo.

Chip Potts: Babysat Ben a lot when he was younger. Has 13 siblings. He works at the castle.

Chloe Charming: Learned a lot of what she knows in ROAR from Lonnie.

Claudine Frollo: She had red hair and is left handed.

Clay Clayton: He's a party animal and is very hard to take out in a fight.

Crabby: is actually quite pleasant to be around.

Crocodile Descendants: They love tormenting Captain Hook and wrestling.

Cubby: He handles Neverland Academy's finances.

Danny Darling-Cooper: He's good at tourney and ROAR.

Derek: He's a selective mute and carries a bell around to get his friends' attention when they're arguing.

Derelict (Electric Eel): He's the friendly eel.

Desiree: She's one of the most wild pirate kids. Even when compared to her crewmates.

Diego de Vil: His most popular song is titled 'Kill the Beast'.

Dhandi: Is Jordan's adoptive older sister (since Eden is Jordan's bio mom).

Dizzy Tremaine: She joins Evie's business when she graduates and her jewelry becomes very popular.

Doc II: Goes by Raphael.

Doug: Evie helps him meet his favorite band (The Dragon Players) on his 21st birthday.

Dude (The Dog): He is jealous of Beelzebub.

Eddie Balthazar: He is always tired.

Eliza: She becomes more of a rebel as she grows up and is always backing Jane up when FG gets difficult (like most parents do).

Elle: She's adopted.

Emir (number 26): He's Aziz's younger brother and is a lot like his dad, personality wise. He does not like his mom's cousins.

Evie: She is Dizzy's half sister.

Finn the Mer-Boy: He works at neverland academy but also remains as Neverland's Protectors (kicking entitled tourist out when they cause too much non fun trouble/damage).

Freddie Facilier: Is banned from being alone with Jordan because those two are just as bad as Ally and Cj when alone together.

Gaston Jr.: He relates a lot to Luisa Madrigal. He also walks with a limp after a failed escape attempt he and his father attempted (he nearly drowned).

Gaston The 3rd.: He's the smart twin.

Gesundheit: Cannot for the life of him spell his name.

Gil: Has stolen a penguin from the zoo with Jay, Chad, Harry, and Carlos before.

Ginny Gothel: Is allergic to flowers. Her middle name is flower.

Gordon: Is a mechanic.

Hadie: Has a villain phase as a teen that no one takes seriously.

Hamish of DunBroch: He works with bears.

Hana: She is the royal party planner in her kingdom.

Hap: He's a hippie/hipster mixture and has a van he customized himself.

Harriet Hook: She has a hip high rose tattoo and broke Anthony Tremaine's nose once when she was 12.

Harris of DunBroch: Will not hesitate to bite people in fights even as an adult.

Harry Badun: He is a detective and has made it his job to make everyone behind the isle and every bad isle adult's lives hell. He will also make up outrageous theories to mess with people he doesn't like.

Harry Hook: Is good at art and has Dyscalculia.

Henry: He's a long lost de Vil.

Herkie: He has his dad's personality and strength but his mama's brain and kinda looks like a blend of his parents.

Hermie Bing: She has a variety of circus related skills, loves clowns, has a sweet tooth, and wears very colorful clothes.

Hubert of DunBroch: Loves reminding his sister of how she turned him into a bear all the time.

Hunter de Vil: His influencer career takes off when the barrier is brought down.

Ivy de Vil: She's allergic to hair dye and becomes a great model when off the isle.

Izzy: She's ROAR instructor at Neverland Academy.

Jace Badun: His mom was a strong woman at the Ringmaster's circus. He is the most exasperated person you will ever meet.

Jack/Korak: He prefers 'Korak' over Jack. He takes after his dad looks wise but his mom personality and fashion wise.

Jade: She has tons of scars from the crocodile wrestling.

Jake: Because of him, Princess Pirate, Finn, Stormy, Marina, Izzy, and Cubby all grew up.

James Brown Jr.: He works at a candy shop.

Jane: She's a big gossip and she and Carlos both bonded over this.

Jane Darling-Cooper: She's a teaching assistant at Neverland Academy.

Jay: He sleeps with a stuffed tiger but will deny it if asked.

Jenna: She's Aziz's oldest sibling and is the heir to the throne. She has a pet Elephant.

Jonas: He's Uma's cousin.

Jordan: She's the one who created the secret Agrabah Club at school (along with Aziz).

La Foux Doux: He's younger than LeFou Deux and loves puppet shows.

Lagan (Electric Eel): He's the mean eel.

LeFou Deux: He has a crush on Claudine and is the isle's Santa Claus.

Li (number 85): His parents took creative liberty with his name without checking to see if that spelling already existed.

Li Lonnie: She does eventually get her show. Her successful ROAR career probably helped (: .

Li Shang Jr: His music is decent but few people take him seriously because of the whole 'Lil Shang' nickname thing.

Lil Yaz: He died of appendicitis after d1. He was morally grey/apathic and had eyes for Quinlynn Hearts.

Lina: Jasmine was her favorite babysitter and she in turn, ended up babysitting the younger of Jasmine's kids when she was in Agrabah.

Lucifer: Lucifer often escapes from the saloon and gets on everyone's nerves.

Lulu Brown: She's much younger than her brother, Jim/James Brown Jr. and is a very good at ballet.

Mad Maddy: She has quite the sweet tooth.

Madam Mim's granddaughters: No one is sure how many there are or how they came to be.

Maddox Hatter: He's an inventor and is very close to Red.

Mal: She grows up a lot after the royal wedding and gets back in touch with her artistic side.

Marina the Mermaid: She's the swim coach at Neverland Academy.

Marya Rasputin: She's the doctor of Harriet's crew.

Max La Bouf: He works at Tiana's palace and often caters the events for his family and Ralphie's.

Melody: She's an environmental activist and the go-to cousin everyone talks to when they need someone who will hear them out.

Meriem: She and Korak are married now, and she's very into learning languages.

Mia: She is a sore loser when it comes to the fashion industry.

Miguel (number 44): He's a Madrigal.

Morgie le Fay: Morgie is just a nickname.

Opal: She's Freddie and Celia's aunt.

Othello (The Parrot): He repeats the things EQ used to say to Evie but is a very loving pet otherwise.

Pin: He's very smart and skipped a grade.

Pirate Kitty (Cat): It's Gil's pet cat (seen in a missing poster in d2).

Princess Pirate: Her friends now call her 'Princess' for short.

Quinlynn Hearts: She's the oldest Heart child and she had a crush on LIl Yaz.

Rafi: He gets along the best with his younger brother, Aziz, and works in the royal guard now.

Ralphie: He and Max are Pen Pals.

Rami: He's a party animal.

Red Hearts: Red is just a nickname. She's also in the school newspaper.

Reza: He is very interested in forensics and was adopted by Mozenrath and Sadira. He has two younger siblings and one older.

Rick Ratcliffe: His middle name is 'Perseus'. Yes, after the pug. And he has a habit of saving people from drowning/bodies of water.

Ruby Fitzherbert: She's shy and artsie.

Salima: She's a middle child now.

Sammy Smee: He's an inventor and a book worm.

Scarlet: She's Carter's twin and is considered the 'evil' twin.

Shy: His name is very fitting because he really is shy.

Sleepy Jr.: He's a gamer.

Snoozy: Snoozy is a night owl.

Sophie: She's Snow White's eldest child.

Spotted Hyenas: They like tormenting Gaston but not his kids.

Squeaky Smee: He's a selective mute.

Squirmy Smee: He and his brother look up to Harry a lot.

Stabbington cousins: They're only known by their nicknames by those outside of their family (and for good reason, since they're secretly Westergaards).

Stormy The Mermaid: She becomes a hippie when's older and mellows out.

The Sea witches: They're the daughters of Ursula's sisters.

The Tweedledum and Tweedledee cousins: They all have varying shades of red hair.

The Wicked Step-Granddaughters: The seven that are Drizella's are Hans' daughters as well. If any are Anastasia's, they're adopted.

Tiger Peony: She's a hippie vegetarian who's really into Tourney but doesn't play.

Tipo: He learns to cook from Kronk and helps him out with  Camp Chippamunka during the summer when he's older.

Tyrone (number 32): He's Tiana and Naveen's son. Lotte spoiled him, lol.

Uma: She gets her OWN sea phonies after d3 and she keeps her shark friends as well.

William (number 12): Wendy's oldest son and Jane Darling's younger brother.

Yi-Min: She's good at tourney as well as Swords and Shields.

Yupi: He is Kuzco's favorite 'nephew'.

Yzla: She's good at gymnastics.

Zam: He is the oldest of the kids in Yzma's family and has also caught his cousins doing weird things most often.

Zellie: She's the oldest of Flynnpunzal's kids.

Zephyr: He looks more like his mom as he grows up.

Zevon: His dad (and his siblings' dad) is Cedric from Sofia the first. His mom also accidentally turned him into a llama as a baby.

Zim: He still practices chemistry but the idea of being evil bores him.

[darkscorpiox]

TWST – Villains are the heroes who have failed and fallen (Glorious Masquerade Event)

We have analyzed the characters based on the Great Sevens, now we have Rollo Flamme.

We know that Quasimodo’s journey was to unlearn everything Frollo had abusively taught him lest he  became like him and perpetuated the cycle of hatred and prejudice. So it’s the same with Rollo.

Let’s start with his hatred of magic users. He considers them a disturbance to the “safety of the people” like how Frollo does with Romani. When he talks to the NRC students, especially Sebek, or sees something magically bad, he covers the lower half of his face with a handkerchief which shares the same color and patterns as Esmeralda’s scarf, the symbol of Frollo’s lust for said woman.

By treating magic users like a stench to his person, he falls even deeper into depravity (like overdosing on medicines). Also, since Rollo is a magic user as well, his hatred is directed inward as well. His younger brother died because he hadn’t been careful with his magic. The magic that the latter loved so much was the cause of his demise. How could Rollo see anything good about it, about that part of himself, after that horrible incident?

In the 2014 musical adaptation of the movie, Frollo’s brother was a man who sought pleasure in immoral activities (e.g.: drinking, gambling). The final nail in the coffin was his romantic relationship with a Romani woman with whom he ran off after people, noticeably his brother, found out about it. He met his end on his deathbed after Frollo promised to care for his son, Quasimodo, as if he was his own.

If the Romani woman Quasimodo was under the care of at the beginning of the movie was his biological mother, then that would mean Romani blood flowed in his veins (like in the musical adaptation). Frollo lied about the circumstances behind his orphanhood to make himself look better in the eyes of the latter, to justify the discrimination against Romani people. Quasimodo would have grown to despise them (and the Romani part of his identity) too if it hadn’t been for Esmeralda telling him that she and her people weren’t as bad as Frollo believed them to be.

However, he hadn’t been free of Frollo’s influence yet. On TvTropes, Frollo’s and Quasimodo’s respective opinions of Esmeralda are presented as an example of the Madonna-whore complex (Film — Animated folder). I’m sure you know which sees her as which. Rollo displayed the same mindset (though the factor is instead one’s magical abilities) through the way he interacted with Malleus and Yuu.

Malleus, as (one of) the most powerful magical being(s) in Twisted Wonderland, was the embodiment of everything Rollo feared and hated about magic. In the latter’s eyes, the former didn’t exercise restraint when using his magic and thus, showed no care for the safety of the others around him (after what we saw in Chapter 7, he’s not completely wrong), making him the worst kind of magic user, the kind of evil that should be eradicated for the “well-being” of others.

Meanwhile, due to their magicless status, Yuu was perceived by Rollo as someone pure. For that reason, he expressed genuine sympathy and compassion for their supposed plight of being the only one of their kind among their magic-using peers (again, he’s not too far off, in my opinion). But the moment they convey an opinion opposite to his…

…he believes another innocent soul has fallen under the allure of magic.

Next, we are told that he took good care of the gargoyles well, treating them like how Quasimodo did with his. Yet he didn’t give any of them a thought when he put his plan in motion (unless he didn’t know they can be brought to life thanks to magic).

That’s what would have happened if Quasimodo had kept listening to Frollo instead of his gargoyle friends and Esmeralda: doing the “right thing” or getting what he wanted at the cost of many (like Frollo).

In the movie, Frollo abused his authority to tyrannize the inhabitants of Paris, notably the Romani community, so that everything conform to what he deemed right. In the musical adaptation, he wanted to eradicate the Romani people because they embodied the vices which had pushed his brother into a life of depravity (the latter had genuinely loved his Romani lover and had wanted to be free from the repressed lifestyle of the church). Whether he had acted out of (self-)righteousness or grief, no one was happy with his attempts to clip everyone’s wings (his included), not even him, though he would never admit it.

While Frollo was right that the world is cruel, Esmeralda and the gargoyles showed Quasimodo that it remains so only if you keep believing there is nothing good out there (pun intended). In short, he shouldn’t isolate himself from the world just because of one or a few bad experiences (like Frollo).

Rollo must do the same. Magic can be dangerous if one is not careful with it, but he must not let that cautiousness become his (and the world’s) cage or he will never get to fly.

[frollosversion]

I enjoyed making little backstories. After the frollo and quasi one, i decided to do another 3-part series. This time it's Clopin.

"All hail little Clopin!"

The setting was held after "Frollo meets his match". This era is Marcel's last year term as king and Clopin was the king in the making, and Frollo's first 6 months as a judge.

(Better if you've read Disney's "Frollo meets his match for reference who Marcel is)

Author's note: I won't use the G-word. thanks :D

—part 1/3—

"You got him good there, Marcel!" Clopin let out a good laugh as Frollo was seen getting arrested by his own guards which—of course, was hilarious.

"Thanks kid. Say, he's really gullible, thinking he can just have the Court of Miracles on his own hands? No way!" Marcel patted Clopin's back.

Clopin giggled softly and sat down the empty bench beside the older.

"Think about it. We had more safeguard and sanctuary in the Court of Miracles than of the cathedral."

Marcel gave him a nod and leaned back the bench to relax after the rough day.

"Clopin?" Marcel asked. "Do you think I'm a great ruler?"

Clopin looked at him. Marcel was looking at the oblivion. Clopin waited for the king to look back at him but he sensed he had no intentions doing so he answered him anyway.

"Of course, Marcel. You've given us something no one else can. You've given us home. If anything, I'd love for you to be our king forever."

"But I can't do that, can I? I'm gonna get old, and before you know it, I'll be into ashes." Marcel chuckled, making Clopin furrow his brows.

"Don't talk like that, Marcel. It's not funny." Clopin scoffed to which Marcel ignored.

"I'm looking for another king-to-be.. What do traits do you think should the new king have?" The king switches the topic and looks at the young Clopin.

Clopin paused for a while to think.

"Just like you. Although I doubt that they'll be in par with you. I want them to be just as witty, humourous, and strategic as you. Believe me when I say I don't see anyone fit to be king other than you."

Marcel let out a small chuckle and shakes his head. This young boy compliments him too much. Clopin's probably just telling him to extend his term... lowkey.

"Well I see one." Marcel spoke softly.

Clopin looked at the blank space and thought about the people who are fit to be the leader, let alone a king.

"who?"

"He's 16. 5'7.. Black hair, chipped teeth on the either side, A good climber, with a bubbly personality, wears a purple hat with yellow feather, Goes by the name Cl—"

Clopin groans, cutting off Marcel's description.

"Marcel, I'm serious!"

"So am I."

Clopin could only blink in response. Marcel did sounded stern. The boy clinged to the edge of his seat and inhaled sharply. He knew himself that he wasn't capable.

To say the least, Clopin could only see himself wearing his ordinary purple hat, but Marcel could see a crown.

"You're worthy, kid. I've been looking at the potential men but you've been standing out so much. You defended the weak and you put yourself last. You're strong, you're brave, you're pure at heart— You're you, Clopin."

Clopin shook his head. He can't lead, he can't do all things Marcel can... at least to him.

"I'm just doing what's right. I've defended people before because it's what you've taught me. I'm no soldier. i love writing poems, i love performing, I am not fit to be king.." Clopin defended.

"You're a soldier, alright. You used to be one.

Right now, you are a poet... and I believe you're ready to flip your own book's page;

Be the King the Court of Miracles needs."

Clopin looked down and took his hat off, sighing heavily.

To be clear, Marcel wasn't forcing him. It was an offer because well, Marcel believed in Clopin's capabilities. He knows Clopin won't abuse the power once he becomes one.

"I'll... Just— give me a whole night to think." Clopin shrugged, Marcel smiled brightly and hugged the younger, rubbing his back as he does so.

"You're the best, kid. Don't worry, I'll guide you in every step you take. I won't leave your side til you're fully ready. Mkay?" Marcel reassured to which Clopin nodded.

"Yásha! All hail little Clopin!"

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Hunger Games & Descendants crossover

Aka me showing Descendants characters into vaguely hunger games setting because it sparks joy. Keeping one (1) Hunger Games character: Ceasar Flickerman, for the reason that Descendants Verse moderator (Snow White) would faint within a minute of having to share a stage with exhibitionistic pirates.

Also. Haymitch. I feel like he and Harriet & James Hook should meet.

Anyway.

(I hope you don't expect any plot)

The Hooks are the Fourth District. The sea side one. Uma, too, and the Smees.

James Hook is a Victor long past, and he lost a hand in his games. He had it replaced by a hook, because he's committing to the bit. Drama queen. He's a Capitol favourite and still very much haunted by the children he fought in his arena. (He's so perfect for this au, I can't)

Harriet is also a Victor, from two years prior.

She volunteered and didn't have a good time ever since. (Didn't have a good time ever ✨)

She didn't lose a hand. This does not stop the Capitol from styling her with a hook.

Both of them are rather heavy alcoholics by this point.

Harriet was a difficult Victor. Stubborn and way too happy to speak her mind. It took Capitol pointing at her siblings and going „If you don't shut up, they'll be next“ to get her to cooperate.

She shut up. She was not happy about it but she's not letting her siblings die in the arena – or otherwise.

Either way, after her, the Capitol needed a Good Victor (tm). They found their Victor in Claudine Frollo, a brainwashed career from District One.

She was ready to lie on her knife for her (District) people rebelling against the Capitol, but her Games were pretty heavily rigged. She was not allowed near sharp things by the gamemakers.

Her trauma from the arena is unsurprisingly not helping. Claudine gets unresponsive for huge amounts of time, and she's still not allowed near sharp things.

„You were raised in a fucking cult!“ „...oh.“ This conversation between Harriet and Claudine definitely happens. Harriet is this close to snapping at Claudine at live TV.

Either way, deal somewhat holds, right? Younger Hook siblings are not reaped.

... wouldn't be the Hooks if there wasn't more chaos, okay?

Next year, Uma is reaped, and there is no way Harry is letting her go alone. He volunteers before the boys are even reaped, threatening murder to career girls who didn't take Uma's place and career boys who would take his in the same breath.

This flies, because Capitol lives for drama.

Also, surprisingly, Uma's reaping wasn't rigged. And even if it was, she was not a part of any deal.

Ursula was an actress, a singer, dragged to Capitol from District four and tossed back when they got bored; when she got too old or otherwise unsuitable. She blames Uma for this. Her most famous role was that of a Sea Witch because Why Not.

Uma wasn't a career, but Harry was. He didn't graduate yet, and his older sister insisted he doesn't volunteer.

Anyway. Since this is AU, I feel like it should be possible for the Games to have multiple Victors if the people like them enough.

It's not something common, but it can happen. It has happened before.

Mulan and Shang pulled it off. Mulan while posing as her brother or male cousin all the while. It was one of the earlier games, but people loved it. (Consequently, their son got reaped the year before Harriet. Pure coincidence, you see. He survived, though.)

The other people winning together were Raya and Namaari, because I said so. They had no children for reasons called "they're lesbians, your honour."

And Uma and Harry are gonna win together too because this is MY self-indulgent AU with zero actual plot.

They're having way too much fun on the stage. Survival instinct (the bit that Uma has) gets overshadowed by the need to a) shock as much people as possible and b) drama✨

They end up making out at the tribute interview. Ceasar is having the time of his life. He hasn't had this interesting tributes since Harriet Hook and Ivy de Vil.

(they obviously make out at the Victors interview too)

De Vils now, yeah?

Third district. Technology, for Carlos. They're inovators, the driving force.

Cruella, much like Hook, is a victor of long past. She went mad in her Games. Her victor talent is fashion, obviously, and Capitol has no problems with the more unethical aspects of her designs.

Her reaping-age relatives have the unfortunate tendency to, well, get reaped. She lost a brother, two nephews and a niece this way.

You see, de Vils are rebels. They need to stand out, they need to be heard. (Much like Hooks, but in better clothes, thank you for asking.)

Ivy was the last one reaped. Now, she knew her odds – one in twenty four and worse yet. The Capitol is not letting a de Vil win again.

Consequently, she might have started riot on her tribute interview. I mean, what are they gonna do? Kill her?

Yeah, I thought so.

I'm getting lost, aren't I.

Tremaines. Officers family from District Eight that thinks themselves way too important (they really aren't). All accusations of Anthony's reaping being rigged will be denied.

Anthony is in the same games as Uma and Harry because Drama.

His stylist is Audrey Rose who got caught high in public one too many times. But hey. They're vibing. Also, this conversation:

Anthony, talking about Harriet: "... she's just so pretty-“

Audrey, an aro ace, just trying to do her job: „...I suppose? She could use to wear something different than the red, and a bit less eyeliner...“

(Ginny, barging in: „YES SHE IS.“)

(I'm projecting on Audrey and you cannot stop me.) (She isn't being mean, she's just struggling to see it.) (Struggling in general. Girl is dissociating more than not, but actually trying her best as a tribute stylist.) (She and Claudine should meet. Attend some therapy together.)

Ginny is Capitol, too. She's a medical student, a medic apprentice, whatever you want to call it. Aesthetics and cosmetics surgery specifically. She's shadowing some doctors at tribute-victor-centre.

Which, let's be honest, mainly means that she, Anthony and Harriet can meet ✨

Like Anthony, she thinks that Harriet is gorgeous. She thinks the same about Anthony.

She flatlines Anthony's medical tracker while he's sleeping but still very much alive in the arena. This goes unnoticed because Harry and Uma are kicking up too much drama. And Ginny and Anthony are pretty good at disguises.

Faciliers. They live in Capitol. With documents that are certainly both legal and theirs.

But hey. No one is gping to kick them out. They smuggle in expensive drugs and absinth and other interesting stuff.

They also know way too much blackmail.

Celia and Freddie have accidentally befriended the gamemakers while making deliveries and now the gamemakers let them play a bit and design new fun mutts!

(Stuff of nightmares, I tell you)

Mal is a way too Capitol-propaganda enthusiastic Victor from one of the poor Districts.

Jay is from District Two, a secret rebel. Jade died in the Games.

Oh! CJ sneaked into the Capitol with her older siblings despite being specifically forbidden to do so, and is now setting something on fire. Ceasar practically gave her a permission by calling her "a little firecracker" in the interview with Harry.

The Smees were supposed to watch her, but the Smees couldn't be paid enough for that.

I'm almost certain I forgot someone. Please, ask if I did or if you find something interesting and want me to elaborate?

[kickasscentral]

Tbh i don’t really understand the rollo flamme haters that hate him purely because he’s based off of Claude frollo. Like i do get why someone would be uncomfortable with the guy who’s based off of godamn frollo of all characters but then also both jafar AND frollo tried to get ‘intimate’ with MUCH younger women but yet I don’t see y’all hating on jamil so

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiiiiiii! I hope you're still writing about Claude Frollo😓

If so, then can I request some smut with sub!Frollo x an experienced!fem!reader? (This is the first time for Frollo)

thank you in advance. I love your works.💗

Teach me lust

Frollo x prostitute!reader

warning : +18, smut, dom/sub undertones, implied age gap, kissing, blindfold, drinking alcohol, rosary use, no use of Y/n

Summary : Even a religious man like him had indulged in lust at some point before he vowed abstinence. Younger, more lustful, longing for a desire that was not his own, not full of insecurity...he wanted something leading. A memory as clear as the experience of the coins he gave her ringing, the flickering of candles and the rustling of fabric as he saw a naked woman in front of him for the first time. It seemed as if he had the deadly sin in front of him personally and he simply had to give himself to her.

info : Thanks for the request anon and I'm very sorry for the months of waiting but I really had no motivation for Frollo and now I have time. Have fun reading and thanks again for the request :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Didn't every man have a need for love? A need for lust, for devotion, for sex? Questions that went on in the minds of normal inhabitants of the city of Paris, questions from uneducated people who didn't know that abstinence and finding God was so much better.

Because faith and the Bible were the only things a man needed, he surrendered to lust, he was absorbed in it and nothing more...well, that's what the aspiring young judge thought too, his dark hair always peeking out from between books and steps whenever he was seen in the library, in the teaching areas of the church and in conversations with the archbishop.

His pointed nose buried in the books, the scent of ink and old parchments surrounded him with a hint of wine when he came out of a mass and had tasted and drunk the body of Christ...but now, for some time now, he smelled something sweet.

He had to take a detour on his way back in the evening because of work in his quarter, not through the baker's quarter with its pleasant smell as usual, no, he had to go through the sweet quarter, the corrupt quarter, the quarter of sins where one pub and brothel followed the next.

,,Do not raise your eyes and the Lord will guide you safely” he had muttered to himself as he looked at the cobblestones at his feet and he hoped to get out of here quickly.

But it was this sweet smell, like a garden of pretty roses, like a wine he wanted to taste, like something he wanted to touch, he wanted to feel it and a whistle finally made him stop and he looked up.

From the dark floor past the entrances to a higher window in the glow of candles he saw her, a look half in shadow, a smile and above all a bare upper body for a moment, ,,Good evening my sweet!” she called down to him, winking and covering her body with a robe again, hoping he would come to her.

He almost dropped his bag of books before he pulled his hood back over his face and ran, ran with warm cheeks, a racing heart and a sweet tingling sensation running through his loins I could see her, her breasts he thought his inner voice playing that brief moment over and over again.

It wouldn't let him go as he hurried into his house and locked the door as he washed his face with cold water and slipped into his nightshirt.

It was that night, that encounter that wouldn't let him go, that longing he had for hours in the dark, not daring to touch, knowing he should do it but the thought insulted him, ,,Were you soft?" he finally asked the question, his hands trying to reach for her body in the void.

He imagined how she felt, how she moved, what sounds she made and his mind filled with all kinds of imaginings. Imaginations that were unholy, that resembled hell, that were flashc but made him feel so warm.

But at the same time the shame burned within him he was a man of god soon he would be judge Claude Frollo and would finally be able to pursue his destiny of justice and now? Was lust so bad?

Everyone should have tasted the cup of seduction once to realize that he wasn't missing anything, God would tell him when he went too far, right?

It was after this, when a young inexperienced Frollo, not yet disillusioned with the world, made a decision that would guide him for the rest of his life, that the next day he barely paid attention to the archbishop's teaching because his mind was only on one thing, on someone, on the one thing he would get.

The sun would soon set and he paced nervously in his home, the small leather bundle in which he had coins rang whenever he counted the coins, telling himself that there were enough, ,,Is that right? Of course not...but if I get over it I will be reborn as a purified man” he mumbled, looking at the wooden image of Mary who assured him that he was doing the right thing.

That when he closed the door to his house and the sun had set, he pulled his hood over his face and set off in the direction of the quarter, it was the first time he used his own words of faith, that he twisted the holy word, that he used what he thought was right when his gaze was not on the ground of abstinence but on the sins of lust and gluttony.

The wine and beer seemed to flow from the bars, the moans and screams could be heard coming from the brothels and his eyes looked up to see her smile at him again, almost knowing he would come in to her as he walked into the brothel.

Inside, still reminiscent of a bar, there was less of the atmosphere of alcohol and instead it was the laughter of women snuggling up to men, he swallowed as he saw the dresses, the wide necklines, the skirts pulled up and the ankles exposed, Nothing but sin his inner voice still trying to stop him just turning back around and praying for his soul.

But when he looked up from the lower floor to the stairs he saw her, even in the crowd he could see her winking at him, a movement with her fingers making her move automatically.

He had to touch himself, he simply had to have her.... he had to feel her, he had to be free from the sin of temptation through her.

Frollo walked up the stairs, hood still on, following her past the doors behind which he heard the sounds of lust, sounds he dreamed at most, imagined when he wanted to touch himself just to pray for hours until he stopped having such thoughts.

The end of the corridor where her room was he crossed the threshold and closed the door, the sinful noises stopped and he took off his hood, his decision made with his thoughts, ,,So I see you've decided to come to me,” she said and smiled as he nodded for the moment, his voice still rooted to the spot.

He looked as lost as he felt and she poured cheap wine into two cups, ,,What do you call it...oh yes the blood of Christ” she laughed at him as she seemed to recognize him, his gaze falling down to him to notice that she could see the beads of his rosary.

He was truly unprepared, like an unbeliever who had yet to find faith, ,,Do you know me?” he dared to ask, his reputation was not yet known everywhere but here in the neighborhoods he was known quite well, to commit himself to the path of sin now could mean his end.

But she just grinned again, took another sip of the wine and gave him a cup herself, looking at him through eyes made up in such a way that he swallowed, his dry throat longing for something as he tasted the wine, ,,I know each of my customers as well as a mother knows her child,” she continued, walking slowly towards him.

The dark-haired man almost choked on the wine and tensed as he saw her hand run over her dress, which was tied tighter than necessary, the fabric exposing much more than it should and the blush rising to his cheeks as he looked at her bust.

She saw his gaze, knew this inexperience, but a man of god had her here before it made it more interesting, ,,You don't need to be ashamed, it shows us what we want even if god tells us no.” She tried to lean into his face and brushed a dark strand from his face as he leaned away, not wanting her touch to go that far.

She felt his heated skin, his rapid heartbeat and the look that tried not to linger on her, ,,Will it be enough?” he asked instead, suddenly pushing past her into the room, unconsciously or consciously blocking his way out and holding out a handful of coins to her.

Golden coins, it was so many that he could stay here with her for a whole week, God wasn't interested in her, in the trade of women who had no choice, so it wouldn't interest him to take anything more than necessary from the theologian.

Taking the coins elegantly but quickly, she let them disappear into the box before turning to her client, ,,You're all mine, my pretty angel," she purred, fingers swiftly undoing the laces of her dress with each step towards him, the fabric loosening and her naked body illuminated by the candles.

Downing the last of the wine in one gulp, he hesitantly reached out for her, making a surprised sound as he touched her hips, ,,Soft,” he uttered the word, making her laugh, a pretty laugh, a laugh he wanted to hear more often and a laugh that stopped when he suddenly felt her lips on his.

Her own hands running over his robe, gently pulling the dark fabric from his body as she engaged him in one of his first kisses, inexperience meeting experience, Frollo wanting to please her, wanting that feeling and gasping in surprise as he felt her bite his lip.

It was the first time he had mixed this pain with lust, the first time it burned into him, the possession, the pain, the lust, ,,Truly immaculate as the virgin herself” she whispered gently kissing her way down his neck and guiding him slowly towards the bed.

The pillows and blankets supported his fall and he gazed into her hair-framed face as she practically sat between his legs, ,,And...you?” he dared to ask, not knowing if he was insulting her and already feeling bad about it, but she was a prostitute not a saint.

A question that made her smile again and she grabbed his hand, kissed his fine fingers and finally placed them on her breast, ,,I am immaculate, stained, old, young, holy, unholy, a guiding voice or a yielding one...I am everything you want” she gave him the options and Frollo's fingers groped her breasts as if he was afraid of hurting her.

Still unsure at first, he added his other hand shortly afterwards and she let him grope her body; she hadn't had such an inexperienced client for a long time.

But he was sweet, he was holy, still in full bloom, not ruined by the man, a thought that made her sigh and his gaze went up to her, ,,Is it good?” he asked and she nodded closing her eyes trying to push her body slightly towards his and her fingers gripped his tighter, showing him that it was okay to squeeze harder.

He seemed almost more sickly than the children in the alleys, thin, hardly any real muscle on him, more like a statue, ,,A saint in my bed truly beautiful" she admitted again seeing his gaze avoid hers, his hands come away from her and she put them back against herself and pulled him into another kiss.

She felt him gradually relax at last and she reached for the piece of fabric tied to the bedpost, ,,Close your eyes,” she told him, almost immediately, and his quick relenting was cute, someone who was so up in society down here they were all the same.

Tying the piece of cloth tightly around his head, she gave him one last kiss on the tip of his nose before he lost his sight, lying beneath her, shivering and gasping with every slightest movement, not knowing if she was leaving him here or not.

Normally she would, she would leave her regular customers here and envy him but now, he was too sweet too sacred to deform like this, ,,Relax my angel” she ordered him nodding and looking at the younger man for a moment.

Pink cheeks, a rapidly rising chest, a heart that seemed to jump out of his chest and an excitement that slowly demanded attention, ,,You will soon feel faith in a completely different way,” she said as she reached for his rosary and took it from him.

The small silver cross hung in front of her, a brief moment of thinking wanted to take over her mind, she had hardly been able to decide for this life, but a customer was a customer no matter if holy or poor.

Concentrating back on her work, she took the cross in her hand and ran it carefully over his heated skin, ,,Does that feel good?” she asked whenever she saw him pressing against her, his hips trying to get some excitement, his point of shame slowly slipping away.

Stroking the cross over his heated skin, she let her hand stroke his cock again and again, always enough to elicit a whimper from the younger man, to show him how good the pleasure could feel, ,,Ple-Please...more” he finally conceded and she rewarded him with a kiss and let the cross move a little more firmly over his body.

The little red strands she kissed and ran over him turned him on more, the pain and lust now had him firmly in their grip and she stroked another strand of hair from his face, ,,Such a good boy” her praise made him moan and a smile crept onto her lips.

Such a simple praise with such a big effect, it was exactly this power that she loved, his hasty nod was rewarded with more touches and kisses and she smeared the first drops of pleasure on his belly

After a few moments, she put the rosary back on him, took the blindfold off, he blinked several times until he met her gaze.

He probably wanted to say something but only a whimper came out as he held on to her, she understood very well what he wanted, the dilated pupils and his hasty breathing she knew what he was asking for.

Stroking his cheek, she reached for the small bottle of oil, dabbed her fingers lightly with it and felt him press lightly against her again, ,,Shh, don't get impatient now,” she warned gently, but she saw him look at her apologetically, his hands clutching the blanket and he leaned his head back into the pillow.

He thought they would turn around and he would be on top as he knew it, but when she slid down on him after a moment he just said, ,,Relax," he moaned out loud as he felt her around him for the first time and thought he had completely fallen into sin, it felt so good.

A feeling that was so different than just pleasure, so much more than just divinity, ,,Mhhh good isn't it?” she asked him, moving just a little as his whole body seemed to shudder beneath her.

Rarely had she seen such an extreme reaction, but he was still handsome, still so handsome, and she slowly let her own pleasure take over, her gasps and whimpers slowly beginning to mingle with his moans.

Her hip movements gradually began to quicken she believed he would come at any moment if she rode him fully, grabbing at his hands which clutched convulsively at the blanket and pillows she placed them against her breasts again.

This time he instinctively grasped harder, wanted to feel her, got to feel her and she gave him more pleasure, gave him more to hear, gave him more praise which made him want to swing in rhythm with her, he had finally let go of the divinity and was completely addicted to her.

The rosary moved over his skin whenever the two bodies moved, the cool silver was pleasantly cool on his heated skin, a light film of sweat lay on the two bodies, candles made the shadows of the two tremble.

She moaned as he unintentionally nipped her nipple and she just murmured, ,,Good so sweet” to him as her own understanding became more and more lost in lust, but the thought between them that she was only allowing him all this only turned him on more.

But his thrusts slowly became faster, out of sync with her and she pushed his hands back onto the bed, not allowing him to touch her again and his whimpers were punished with a scratch as she traced the red stripes of the cross, his moans almost becoming a yelp as she leaned against him.

His plea barely intelligible came out in an unanswerable whimper and babble she only answered with a “come for me” she only knew to hold onto him one last time and bury his cry in a kiss.

The trembling of both bodies stopped after a few final movements, her own climax almost better than the money she got for such pleasure.

Savoring the moment, she slowly rose from him, heard his whimper as he lost her warmth and could only grin, ,,Now you're stained my pretty one,” she murmured to him and stroked a strand of hair from his face, seeing that he could almost not open his eyes but the small smile on his lips that he gave her said everything she needed to know.

She had seduced him on the path of lust, made him commit a mortal sin, had a new follower, she would become his saint but above all she had corrupted the future judge Claude Frollo into a whimpering, pleading pretty boy.

She had taught him lust and from now on she would do it whenever he came to see her.

Lust was so much stronger than faith...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lustandrot]

Just a reply written to Quasimodo.

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As always, Frollo attempted his best at staying naive to the obvious fear and discomfort that his presence often brought the hunchback, but perhaps it had also been the very reason that he believed his method of discipline actually worked between them. It instilled a constant sense of remorse and self-pity in the boy and it was that remorse and self-pity that kept him loyal -- and pure. Not just in his eyes, but also in the eyes of their Lord, Jesus Christ.

It didn't matter if the man asked the deformed hunchback to repent for something that he had no reason to feel sorry for. If anything, it kept the boy grateful for his very existence -- and he should have been grateful. After all, he could have drowned the insolent creature in the river, and if it wouldn't have been for his God-fearing heart and the fear of being eternally damned, he would have very well succeeded. 

It didn't matter that Quasimodo wasn't Jehan anymore. He never would be. That illusion had been ripped from him many years ago when the Archdeacon finally realized and accepted the heartbreaking fact that he had been stuck raising something far worse than a profligate, reckless younger brother who simply embarrassed him and his position at the church and spent his money on alcohol and gypsy women. A brother who he had lost, regardless of to what, who, ... and when. 

To Claude, Jehan had been nothing but a failure. His failure for he had been his responsibility. None of it mattered now. He had been stuck with this...  thing that he had vowed to care for ... and teach ... and somehow... love -- though that feeling itself had never been possible for him or actually accomplished. Not in the full twenty years that the boy had lived in his care and protection .... and the absence of such a feeling never once bothered the man, either. If anything, Quasimodo served to be more of a favorite, valued pet to him than an actual human child that he might have been capable of loving. There was a sense of fondness and pleasure in the relationship for him, but not love. The disconnect, however, no matter how unhealthy or damaging, had always been natural for the Archdeacon and this was the way it had always been between them.  

With attentive eye following the boy as he obediently retrieved the bench, following their usual routine, Frollo merely gave a short nod of approval as the large, wooden piece of furniture had finally been set down before him. Sweeping his long, thick robes out from underneath him with one hand, he finally took a seat at his usual spot on the bench before setting the basket down onto the wooden surface that served as a tabletop of sorts - though Frollo never really allowed the boy to eat at the table like a normal human being would.

No. His spot was the floor and it always had been. Especially when eating. A lot of this primarily had to do with Quasimodo's constant issues regarding self-control and the art of good manners. It had been something of a struggle for the poor boy since day one and Frollo hadn't had much of a choice but to resort to unkinder methods when it came to teaching his charge proper restraint with food. 

Not being able to help but notice the apparent excitement written into the bell ringer's distinctly deformed features, the Archdeacon brought a hand forward before he opened up the basket slowly - not stopping until he held up a moist, plump blueberry in front of the boy who so desperately existed on the constant edge of craving such a thing. He would use this to hold over the other's head as often as it were necessary. Until the lessons sunk in. Then, the man finally spoke.

"Remember ... manners, Quasimodo," he reminded him with a louder voice, completely relying on the boy to pay attention to his lips and body language if he hadn't already paid attention to prior lessons, as this was a lesson the Archdeacon attempted to teach him every single day. 

Practically dangling the blueberry in front of the hunchback's face now, he cautiously but patiently waited for the other's response now, at the ready in case he had the need to recoil or pull back from the mongrel's snatching gloved hands. Giving the boy a look now that only insisted for him to make a choice and take the fruit, Frollo spoke again. This time -- louder for the primarily deaf hunchback in front of him.

"Self.........control......" he snapped very slowly. 

/ Writer's note; I would not have found such a beautiful Quasimodo if it weren't for this precious site that I still barely know how to use... but ugh. *Sobs.*