#kinda of Logan does threaten to burn him at the stake

[frogsandcookies]

Hellfire

Who ordered a Hunchback of Notre Dame au for Sanders Sides? 

Anyways, this is a song fic Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Logan is Frollo in this, Patton is Esmeralda, Virgil is Quasimodo, and Roman is Phoebus (the latter two are barely mentioned)

Warning: Minor NSFW themes(nothing explicit so don’t worry but Logan does talk about lust), Violence, Mention of death, A lot of religious stuff (Talking about hell and such)

***Edited on 3-28-21 to remove a offensive word from the writing, I apologize for using it in the original, I wasn’t aware that it was a slur. 

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Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti Beatae Mariae semper Virgini Beato Michaeli archangelo Sanctis apostolis omnibus sanctis

The sound of the congregation’s singing bounced off of the towering stone halls, echoing throughout the magnificent cathedral and the surrounding city area. It was haunting, both beautiful and terrifying though the townsfolk paid no attention to it, used to the sound by now. The usually bustling city was quiet and dark, except for one house. Logan Frollo’s manor.

The stone faced man was standing on his balcony that looked over the whole city, his hands clamped tightly on the marble railing. His knuckles were a ghostly white and his teeth clenched together tightly. The deafening cathedral bells began to ring and his eyes snapped to the Notre Dame.

“Damned bells.” He muttered before releasing the thoroughly strangled railing and turning quickly on his heel. His robe swept elegantly behind him following his spin, the wind blowing it back as he strided into his home. Just as the bells ceased their ringing, Logan slammed the mahogany doors to his balcony, his face bearing an wrathful expression.

He was restless, clenching and unclenching his hands as he thought about the events that had occurred the past couple of days.

Logan suddenly stopped and his eyes flicked up to the tall portrait of the Virgin Mary which hung above the grand stone fireplace where a crackling fire was lit. Its eyes seemed to watch his every movement and looked into his soul, reading what he was thinking.

Beata Maria

You know I am a righteous man

Of my virtue I am justly proud

“Beata Maria, Saint Mary, why must you look at me so? You have seen from my actions that I am indeed a righteous man who strives for perfection in the citizens of Paris.” Logan said, looking up to the painting who’s leering seemed to increase as he continued to speak.

“Although my arrogance may seem unjust, I think that all of the contributions I have made to this growing city speak for themselves; of which my virtue I am justly proud. Not many can say they helped exterminate the infestation of travelers that roam about our glorious city, corrupting the weak willed citizens.” Logan added, his tone sounding a bit desperate as he pleaded to the painting.

Beata Maria

You know I'm so much purer than

The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

“The citizens who make up our City of Light are vulgar and common yet I strive to help them reach salvation. Those fools in the Notre Dame do the devil’s work, protecting those wanderers and that freak of a child who I graciously raised.” Logan spat, his anger flaring.

“When I reach Heaven’s pearly gates those weak fools will claw at my feet.” He murmured.

Then tell me, Maria

Why I see him dancing there

Why his smoldering eyes still scorch my soul

There was a jingle of bells and Logan spun around, his glasses nearly falling off of his face as he looked for the source of the all too familiar sound.

“Who’s there?” He called, his hand flitting to his pocket where a silken blue scarf was housed. No one answered his call and Logan yelled once again,”Come out you vile boy!”

Only the crackling of the fire answered him  and Logan turned back around. He ignored the painting’s judging stare as he pulled out the delicate scarf, his hands shaking slightly as he caressed it.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about that witch?!” He muttered angrily. The fire crepitated in response and Logan looked into the red orange flames.

I feel him, I see him

The sun caught in his glowing hair

Is blazing in me out of all control

The dancing of the flames brought his thoughts back to the festival. Where he had met him. The man who had somehow wormed his way into Logan’s cold heart.

The boy had shoulder length caramel locks that seemed to float while he danced on the stage, a tambourine in one hand and a scarf in another. The image of him dancing and wrapping the scarf around Logan’s neck had forever been burned into his mind, no matter how hard he attempted to rid it from his brain.

He still felt disgust towards the younger male but accompanying it was a new feeling as well.

Like fire

Hellfire

This fire in my skin

This burning

Desire

Is turning me to sin

It was lust. One of the seven deadly sins that the Lord had preached not to commit unless he wanted to be damned to the fiery pits of hell.

And yet, there it was. His skin burned and a pit of fire replaced his soul. This feeling was new. Logan had dedicated himself to the church, working to eliminate the sin and the sinners accompanying it from the world. While his methods were questionable to most, he saw them as the best course of action and so he went forward, destroying homes and imprisoning countless travelers to the city.

Destroying the nomads had always been his mission; it was as though he had been birthed to do it. He never had time to take his turn with romance, always caught up in his work and never meeting anyone who caught his eye.

Until the festival. The event that had spurred an emotion in him that he had never felt before.

It's not my fault

I'm not to blame

It is the g**** boy

The witch who sent this flame

Logan snapped out of his thoughts and looked back up to the painting who’s stare was cold, much like his own.

“It’s not my fault!” He snapped before saying,”It’s that beastly dancing boy’s fault! He cursed me, got me trapped in his ungodly spell! He was the one to light this fire inside me, I am innocent!”

The fire seemed to roar at this and Logan stopped back, still gripping the scarf tightly in his hands.

It's not my fault

If in God's plan

He made the devil so much

Stronger than a man

“Maria why must I be at fault?! God created me with the intention of tempting me with this sin! But also made the devil to overpower me and damn me to hell!” Logan yelled.

“I am not to blame for this sin, the devil has come and planted this seed in my soul, one that I cannot begin to understand nor control! I am a man of God and yet he still tries to damn me! If in his plan to make the Devil stronger, why must I be included! Oh mother Maria!” Logan shrieked, hitting his fist against the cold stone wall as an emphasis for his words.

Protect me, Maria

“Mary, queen of Heaven, protect me from this sin and allow me to continue following the path to salvation!” Logan said, breathing heavily.

Don't let this siren cast his spell

Don't let his fire sear my flesh and bone

The flames continued to dance, showing him more images of the curly haired youth and Logan screamed in rage.

“Don’t let this witch, this siren continue to tempt me! Wipe him from this Earthly plain and let him dance in hell with the devil! His fire, this fire, burns; it scorches my soul and this temptation is ungodly!” He shrieked.

Destroy Patton Fairhope

And let him taste the fires of hell

Or else let him be mine and mine alone

Logan knew that while this might be a sin, he could try and reform the young male, try and redeem his soul. Without his guidance though, there was no hope and the fire within him would not be quenched until the male--Patton-- had met his own kind of fire. The ever burning fires of the underworld.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Logan spun around, shoving the sky blue scarf back into his robe pocket as the door swung open. In the doorway stood an armor clad soldier, his face cast in shadow due to the light being emitted from behind him.

“Minister Frollo. The g**** has escaped.” The soldier said.

Logan froze, rage bubbling up inside of his as he said,”What?”

“He’s nowhere in the cathedral. He’s gone.” The soldier elaborated.

Logan ran a hand through his thinning hair as a wrathful expression wormed its way onto his face and the soldier stepped back nervously.

“But how did…” He paused, collecting himself and dawning a neutral expression which was just as unnerving at the angry one. “Nevermind. Get out you idiot.” He snarled, waving the soldier back as he turned back to the fireplace, the flames reflecting his swirling emotions.

As the guard closed the door, he faced the fire, adding,”I’ll find him if I have to burn down all of Paris.”

Hellfire

Dark fire

“Hellfire. Darkfire. That idiot can run but nothing can match the troops of Paris. If he wants hell, then I shall bring it to him.” Logan snarled, wringing the scarf as he continued to talk.

Now g****, it's your turn

Choose me or

Your pyre

Be mine or you will burn

“If that witch wants to live then he will wisely choose to accept my offer of forgiveness. If he refuses then may he be burned at the stake like all of those other sinners.” Logan said, smirking as he remembered the many others who he had damned to the stake.

“Not everyone is as fortunate to have won my favor. Choose wisely.” He murmured to the scarf before casting it into the flames. The delicate fabric immediately caught flame and the garment was ash within a span of several seconds. Logan looked up the Virgin Mary painting once more, looking smug before turning away.

God have mercy on him

God have mercy on me

“May God be with him as he decides on his fate. And may God be with me and let this boy join me so we can walk the path of salvation together.” Logan said.

But he will be mine

Or he will burn!

“But let there be no doubt. He will be mine or he will burn. And may that foolish captain and that freak burn with him should he choose this path.” Logan said, staring at the Notre Dame through the stained glass windows where the monster he had raised resided.