"Just when you'd think they were more malignant than ever Hell could be, they could occasionally show more grace than Heaven ever dreamed of. Often the same individual was involved. It was this freewill thing, of course. It was a bugger." - Good Omens
I have an account at deviantart and fanfiction.net under the same user name. I am also the mun for an Esmeralda Tumblr account called smolderingeyesravenhair (ha... sorry, I had no idea what to call the Esme account when I created it. So pretentious).
His master advised him that he was the older child, and therefore ought to set an example and be the more sensible of the two. He should forgive the younger for any transgression, and guide him, as the younger one did not know better, just as his master’s duty was to watch over the both of them and show them the path of the virtuous.
But, Quasimodo thought bitterly, his master did not know the magnitude of Jehan’s wickedness. Jehan, his master’s pampered brother, was artful, even at the age of six. Before his master, Jehan played flawlessly the part of the cherubic angel, who could do no wrong. His poor master, blinded by familial adoration, indulged him. When left alone with Quasimodo, Jehan was a scamp.
Quasimodo loathed Jehan. But he loved his master more and was devoted to him. So while he was superior in strength, he let Jehan have his way. When Jehan kicked him, he received the kick without qualm. When Jehan and his friends threw stones at him, he calmly returned to his room to clean his wounds. When Jehan called him names, he turned a metaphorical and, subsequently, literal deaf ear to them. On the rare occasion when his master caught Jehan in the act, his master would scold his spoiled child, and Jehan would appear shamefaced and utter something witty. Jehan remained unrepentant thereafter.
But Jehan’s deceit could not be concealed as he grew up. There was no longer need for Quasimodo to tell on him, even if he so wished. Numerous reports from all over of Jehan’s wickedness reached his master. His master, wary and morose, became more and more dejected.
Years on, as Quasimodo battled and fought the masses at Notre Dame with all the rage and ferocity of a giant, in the mistaken belief that he was protecting the woman he loved, he faced Jehan again. Jehan had forgotten, but Quasimodo remembered. More importantly, he had witnessed his master that day throw a pouch at Jehan as the latter was walking at the cloister. He had seen his master’s expression; he had read his master’s lips. His master had given up on Jehan. There were no further obligations owed.
Picking Jehan up, Quasimodo swung him onto a wall at the parapet, and killed him with a single crushing blow.
there is a gif in my folder named “marius in a cowboy hat trying to be smooth” and i was not disappointed
Ok ok ok but how did the Phantom swankify his lair? Like imagine him having a mail order catalog addressed to “the Lair Under the Theater” and him laying on the foot of his bed circling all the things he likes (and
double triplequadruple circling all the things he really likes) in an exotic pen and writing the special delivery instructions: oh yeah it’s not that hard. Just go through the mirror in Christine Daae’s dressing room, down the stone spiral staircase, across the foggy river (please provide your own boat), and yeah, in case I’m out watching my beloved, destroying chandeliers, or buying new stationary (I’m an avid note-writer), you can just set my stuff between the wax figurine of my love and the pile of nooses. Many thanks!!
Sometimes I wonder if Victor Hugo is looking down at the world and saying: “They made my novel about the student revolution in France and my novel about rape and the French judicial system…into musicals!?”
in defense of the musicals (the stage show notre dame de paris, not the disney movie) they’re both pretty on point and still very tragic.
Speaking of musicals, well, operas, Hugo the man himself wrote a libretto for Notre Dame that deviated from the story. Like Phoebus wasn’t so much a douche as his book version, and actually saved Esmeralda from being executed, and then died in her arms.