bell ringers'

INKTOBER 27 -  Bell Ringer

One of Yharnam’s sinister urban legends, this crazed woman dressed in black carries with her a special bell.
It is said that the sound of her bell brings out all sorts of unsavory creatures.

Or also known as Chime Maiden (according to the book of art they are called Bell Ringer, but it seems that this name works), at the beginning they are small annoyance in the first levels invoking their minions, but in the last ones it becomes ridiculous of broken in sobrepoder that they are, especially in the Chalice Dungeon that more of a headache in had to try to advance the dungeon and just this bitch appears and ruins everything.


I’m publishing the latest inktober very late for a lot of work and I’ll upload the drawings that I have left as I have free time.

hi as the holiday season is going to start soon please remember two things:

  • don’t donate to the salvation army because it is a racist, homophobic, all around shitty charity
  • don’t yell at the salvation army bell ringers just because they volunteered to work for this shitty charity. it’s likely that they don’t actually know what they’re promoting and you yelling at someone when they believe they’re honestly doing a good deed is going to help no one.
Chemistry Class

Okay. So I was the only senior in my chemistry class. It one of the weirdest/best classes I’ve been in.

- One day we were doing notes and this kid, a theatre kid (whom I knew pretty well), asked about “the dress”. We literally stopped the lesson and had a 30 minute debate as to wether the dress was black and blue or white and gold.

- The theatre kid’s mom was the nurse. He ended up having snacks everyday. (This is second period, mind you, so he stopped by the nurse’s office during passing period, which is on the other side of the school.) One day he had Fruit Loops and he dropped one on the ground.

Girl: Eww! Don’t eat that! There’s probably poop particles from someone’s shoe on the floor!

Theatre Kid: Oh, Poop Loops! *Picks it up and eats it.*

- The sophomores and I played a game while the juniors were taking the ACT.

- Theatre Kid was banned from bringing food into class.

- For Mole Day we had a scavenger hunt around the school. The prize was dirt cake.

- We made cookies for our last lab. (I got stuck with Theatre Kid and my lab partner in my group. We ended up yelling at him because he put in the wrong ingredient. We had to dig it out.) (Trombonist in my next block class, whose never done a drug in his life, asked if I had weed.)

- We played games every Friday for our Bell Ringer. A few times desks would be knocked over. One time a kid jumped over a desk and almost fell. Another time a kid jumped over another kid.

- One time Theatre Kid knocked over a non-hazardous chemical. (I was at the lab beside him.) I kept making puns about it and he punched me. (I always give him a hard time.)

- Durning finals week our teacher gave us food everyday. I didn’t have finals one day (two out of four classes met the second day of finals), so I brought a hotdog to her room. She gave me the food for the last day of finals week because I didn’t have her class that day.

- I somehow managed to sit by this guy (both terms). This guy made puns literally every single day. One girl asked how I kept my sanity/said I needed a trophy.

- One time we were have the ‘jif’ 'gif’ debate. My teacher looked up a video of how to properly say it….. Twenty minutes later, we’re looking up pronunciations for other words. She clicks on a link that says, “Astronaut”.

Then, very quietly, we hear: ass nuts.

Everyone was dying and my teacher stopped because she didn’t want the principal to drop by and see us doing nothing.

- Teacher: *Showing us stuff in her room.* This is the Fume Hood. You’ll get chemicals from here and other things.

Pun Kid: So, you get your stuff from in the hood?

- One time Pun Kid made a joke and the teacher asked him to leave.

- One time I went home sick during chemistry. (Like I was literally bawling in front of my teacher because I was in so much pain.) I ended up taking a nap when I got home. Woke up to my dad on the phone at 3:30. Apparently my teacher called and asked if I was alright.

- Teacher wouldn’t let us leave on our last day unless we gave her a hug.

It was a really hard class (science isn’t my strong-suit), but it was actually a really fun class.

anonymous asked:

Andrew and Neil go to an amusement park where Neil gets lost and Andrew *definitely does not* panic and worry, please! You are so amazing!

So like I kind of kept to the prompt??? Amusement park became State Fair, and Andrew and Neil lowkey became all the Foxes??? I’m sorry???

The parking area is already filled to the brim when they arrive. Andrew is pretty sure this doesn’t even count as a parking lot; the large field weighed down by rows upon rows of cars. There are numerous people in reflective yellow jackets using neon orange cones to direct traffic, and Andrew follows the line of cars to the next available spot. Matt’s truck pulls in beside the Maserati, and everyone climbs out, smiles out and wide in anticipation. Families and groups of teens alike weave their way through the cars around them, their chatter and laughter carrying on the breeze. It’s almost enough to drown out the screams and music coming from the Fair.

Despite it only being early October, the air has a chill to it with the sun gone, so the Foxes pull on hoodies and jackets before heading towards the epicentre of excitement. The sky is a pale indigo above their heads, a view stars blotching the inky surface, but the bright flashing lights up ahead are quick to wash them out. With each step closer, the scent of fried dough and spun sugar gets stronger, and seems to fuel the buzz reverberating through the group.

It doesn’t take long to get tickets, and then they’re moving through the entrance gate into the fairgrounds. The lights and sounds are even worse in the mix of things. A cacophony of chaos that grates on Andrew’s nerves and twinges at his temples like the start of a headache. He briefly wonders why he even agreed to come to the State Fair, but he finds he minds a little less when he takes in Neil’s expression. The striker’s face is bright, and his eyes are wide. The start of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he whips his head around to take everything in.

“Let me guess,” Andrew starts. “You’ve never been to a State Fair before.”

“Actually, I have,” Neil says. “Crowds like these are a great way to lose someone who’s chasing you.”

“Oh my god; that’s so sad,” Matt chimes in. “You need the full Fair experience, Neil! We’ll start with the Tilt-a-Whirl.”

“The tilt a what?”

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Happy Lowman - Bell Ringer

It was three o'clock in the morning and you swore you were going to go crazy. Your doorbell was ringing nonstop as it had awoken you from your sleep.

You flung the covers off you. Of course your doorbell wasn’t one of those beautiful sounding song types. No, yours was a single pitched “ding-dong” sound. And whoever the hell was at your door wouldn’t even let the “dong” sound before pressing the button again.

You threw your robe on and stormed to the door. Grabbing your baseball bat as you made your way to the front door and flung it open.

“What the fuck is the matter with you!!?”

You screamed prepared to beat the shit out of Happy and Jax that was standing on your porch with the rest of the guys behind him. Jax’s eyes were wide as Happy removed his fingers from the doorbell.

Jax’s lips parted slowly as he looked between you and his Sargeant-at-Arms before looking back at you with a still shocked expression.

“I told him not to…”

죄라 (4)

Im Jaebum x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: Angst

Summary: “How do you antifreeze?” “How?” “Steal her blanket”

Author’s Note: Spoiler; it is a little bit of a pun fest, and I refuse to apologise for it. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

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Twilight. There is no one I want to see. It is too painful a change of gears. It is like someone who carries an orchestra inside his head being asked to play the tune of an auto horn, a trolley bell, a telephone ringer. I can’t do it.
—  Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in Trapeze: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1947–1955
This is why.

“Today I’m sharing with you something I wrote myself,” I began, as the class only semi-settled down after our rather rowdy bell-ringer discussion. “I wrote it when I was a grad school. My professor asked us to share a memory from our own high school experience and discuss how that experience plays a role in who we want to be as a teacher. It’s a true story.”

My eight period’s shuffling quieted, one by one, as they realized the meaning of my words. They were about to learn something about my life. I explained why I was sharing it. Four reasons:

  • I think it’s only fair since I ask them to share their writing with me;
  • modeling of good writing;
  • tit-for-tat about revealing vulnerabilities (as English teachers, we ask them to share a lot if you think about it);
  • the message is related to the novel we’re starting.

The story doesn’t paint me in a pretty light. In short: Christy Enders was invited on our soccer team my senior year as a “positive experience” for her after getting out of rehab for drug addiction; I wasn’t mean to her, but I also wasn’t nice. I didn’t stick up for her. She got kicked off eventually (for possibly a BS reason?) and I never thought about her again until I learned five years after graduating that she’d died of an overdose.

I know: I was a kid and didn’t understand cause and effect, the bigger picture, the relative unimportance of high school sports. It wasn’t my fault. But a regret is a regret, and this is a memory that lingers.

The story does not paint me in a good light, but I share the paper with my kiddos every year anyway. In it, I talk about that regret. I talk about how while I don’t believe I am responsible for her death, I wonder what if something that turned out to be a negative experience had actually been positive. And how I wish, in retrospect, my coaches had done more – I needed their guidance. I needed someone to tell me that I was wrong.

I ask my students three questions afterward – what are your thoughts in general after reading, what would you have done if you were me, and what would you have done if you were Christy.

This year I got this response to the second question: You know, the scary thing is that before I read this, I would have done the same thing you did. But there’s a guy on my jv soccer team now that is exactly like Christi.


This. This is why: why I teach this lesson, why I teach in general, why I exist to be on this planet. This is why everything.

[This is for Christy.]


Legitimately, these took me three or so hours to finish. I present (mostly for my own benefit) a comprehensive floor plan of the Institute!

Red is the first floor, blue the second, green the third. Either click on the images or put them in a new tab to see them properly (they’re real big; I made an effort to make them legible).

A lot of thought went into this, so I’ll put it below a cut.

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It’s that time of year to say no to the Salvation Army.

Never forget they let a Trans woman die instead of helping her.

Never forget they have tossed entire families on the street for having an LGBT child.

Never forget they tell non Christian families that unless they convert they will not help them.

Never forget that the Salvation Army is bigoted and hateful, many of the bell ringers routinely heckle and harass LGBT couples.

A Monster & A Thief

The fox wasn’t like anything Clawsimodo had ever seen (though to be fair he hadn’t seen much of anything ever). The cheetah had mistaken him as a vixen for first, accidentally tumbling into a tent to find him in a dress. Clawsimodo had felt guilty and embarrassed and hiding his face as he mumbled several apologies.
And then the fox had smiled, emerald eyes warm with friendliness. “Try to be a little more careful, hm.” And he had sent Clawsimodo on his way, leaving the cheetah absolutely star struck.
But the feeling that was both warm and fluttering had quickly been ripped away from him when he was named the King of Fools publicly humiliated after.
In the chaos of mocking laughter, the pain from being pelted with miscellaneous items, he begged for his Master Bellwether to set him free.
The sheep did nothing.
But still the laughter suddenly died, Clawsimodo looked up to see the fox standing above him and looking at the cheetah as if he had never seen him before. Clawsimodo tried to hide his face, shameful tears escaping his closed eyes.
“I’m sorry,” the fox breathed. He knelt before the cheetah, using a handkerchief to wipe the rotten fruit and vegetables off the cheetah’s face. He did so with no hesitation, no sense of disgust. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Bellwether had been furious with the fox but he wasn’t fazed in the slightest, instead escaping the soldiers that were told to sic ‘em. But Clawsimodo’s relief over his escape was overshadowed by Bellwether’s anger and the disgust of the people as he quietly vowed to never go outside again.
But not even an hour later, as he walked through the towers of Notre Dame, he heard a familiar voice. He followed it in an almost desperate manner, reaching the church floor where he quickly hid behind a column.
And there he was.
The red fox was lying on the stone floor, eyes up at the towering ceiling. Beside him was a much smaller sandy colored fox pacing back and forth with an angry expression. He was wearing a strange outfit that reminded Clawsimodo of a goat.
“What a fine mess you got us in this time, Wilde,” the small fox growled. “A real fu-”
“Ah, ah,” the red fox waggled his finger in a disapproving matter. “Remember what Cottontail said: we’re in a church, watch your language.”
The small fox snarled, “We’re trapped in here, Nick. That crazy sheep wants our heads.”
The red vulpine, Nick, sat up. His expression was one of thought with an edge of wary. “I think she wants something else.”
Clawsimodo swallowed, he knew first hand how terrifying Bellwether was. He guessed her pursuit was more relentless than he had originally thought if she had forced the two foxes to claim sanctuary.
By the big-warred one’s expression that hunch was right on the money, the poor thing looked ready to tear his fur out. By Nick’s bristling tail he was just as bothered by his friend, he was just hiding it better.
“Finnick,” Nick breathed, “Lets-” His words cut off as his eyes suddenly spotted Clawsimodo besides the pillar. The cheetah let out a soft yelp.
Nick’s ears twitched, his head tilted to the side, “Hey.”
But Clawsimodo had already whirled around and ran back up stairs.
“Wait, I wanna talk to you!”
“Wilde, where are you going!”
To the cheetah’s horror the two fox’s were chasing after him, and they were much faster than him. Still he reached the top of the bell tower before he felt something grab his tail. “Woah, hang on, hang on,” Nick insisted, releasing Clawsimodo’s tail when he stopped.
“S-sorry,” Clawsimodo took a few steps back, hugging his arms around himself.
“Why are you apologizing?” Nick’s brow furrowed. “That’s what I’m here to do.”
Clawsimodo’s eyes widened at the fox whose smile was apologetic and sincere. “I didn’t mean to drag you onto the stage like that. I mean, if I had known…” Nick’s paw started to indicate to Clawsimodo before quickly pulling his paw back. “I’m sorry.”
The feline smiled awkwardly, “It’s okay.”
“My name is Nick,” he introduce and nodded to the fox behind him. “This is my partner in crime, Finnick.”
“Hi,” Clawsimodo greeted softly, expecting the foxes to leave.
Instead they looked around the room he called his own. “Do you live here?” Nick asked.
Clawsimodo nodded shyly, feeling embarrassed by the state of the room and wishing he had tidied it up. Finnick had walked over to a table to study the figurines, “What are these?”
“O-oh, these are nothing!” Clawsimodo hurried over, his skin blushing under his fur. “Just a hobby.”
Nick had walked over to see the small statues of the townsfolk, his eyes glittered at the sight. “You made all of these?”
Clawsimodo tried for a nonchalant shrug, “I dabble.”
“These are amazing,” Nick smiled, picking up and observing the statue of a baker. “Oh boy if I could do this…you wouldn’t see me dancing on the street for coins.”
The words made Clawsimodo frown, “But you’re so good at dancing.”
Nick smiled coyly at him, “It keeps bread on the table.”
Finnick snorted and rolled his eyes at the pair before turning his attention to the tavern the cheetah had built.
“So what’s your name, Spots?” Nick asked, smoothly waving his tail back and forth.
His answer was a barely comprehensible murmur, “Clawsimodo.”
“Creative,” Nick purred. He leaned up and looked around, “So besides crafts what else do you do for fun?”
“Not much,” Clawsimodo cringed, “I mainly just ring the bells. I’m the bell ringer.”
Nick’s ears perked, “Bells?”
His interest made Clawsimodo brighten, “Yeah! Do you want to see them?”
“Sure we would, right Finnick?”
The smaller fox wore an artificial smile, “Nothing would bring me more pleasure.”
With Finnick clinging to Nick’s back like a baby Clawsimodo led them throughout the bell tower, introducing them to all of the bells.
“This is Angel…and Sweet-Sweet…and Little Junior…and Big Junior.”
They stopped before the largest bell, Clawsimodo’s secret favorite. “This is Summer, she’s the oldest.” He smiled when Nick slipped into the inner side of the bell and howled a hello, his voice echoing through the gold chamber. Finnick hissed in anger and tried to cover his too big ears.
Clawsimodo peeked out from under the rim of the bell, “She liked you.”
Nick chuckled, fangs showing as he grinned. “Got anything else?”
Clawsimodo led them away from the bells and up to the roof of Notre Dame, the sky a pleasant plum as afternoon turned to night. “My room may be small but you can’t deny the view,” Clawsimodo smiled.
Nick and Finnick had gone silent, eyes wide and in awe as they sat down and looked at the vast setting with starving expressions.
“This is beautiful,” Nick breathed while Clawsimodo sat down next to him. “I could stare at this forever.”
“Whatever, it’s okay,” Finnick muttered though was obviously very impressed.
“You could,” Clawsimodo said softly. “Stay here, I mean.”
Nick quickly shook his head, “No, no, there’s no way.”
“But you could,” Clawsimodo reminded. “You have sanctuary.”
Finnick threw out a rude laugh that rewarded him with a rude glare from Nick. “Go sit over there,” he pointed to a spot a few feet away. “Go sit and mind your own business.”
Finnick walked off with a snarky smirk.
Nick sighed and turned back to Clawsimodo, “We didn’t want to claim sanctuary, honestly it feels more like we’re trapped.” Clawsimodo pouted and Nick explained, “We’re used to the open air, to traveling. We don’t work well with a closed door and four walls.”
“You mean like the other mammals at the Festival of Fools?” Clawsimodo asked. “But they’re not anything like you. They’re evil.”
To the cheetah’s dismay Nick’s hackles rise. “What makes you say that?”
“I’m sorry-I’m sorry! It’s just… I was always told they were cutthroats and thieves.”
Nick relaxed but still didn’t look overly pleased. “I was chased out of my home town because of all the things I stole.”
Clawsimodo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “But you’re so nice.
Nick’s smile was pained, "There are mammals much nicer than me. So, whose been telling you all this evil animal talk?”
“My master…” Clawsimodo hugged himself. “Master Bellwether. She raised me.”
Nick’s snout curled in distaste, “How could that wool-wearing donkey raise someone as nice as you?”
“Oh she’s very kind,” Clawsimodo quickly assured. “She took me in when I was abandoned as a baby.”
“Abandoned?” Nick echoed.
“My parents didn’t want me because I’m a monster.”
“Did Bellwether tell you that?”
“Look at me.”
There was a long moment of silence. Clawsimodo guessed Nick was looking at him and finally realized how ugly Clawsimodo was. He and Finnick would leave and never look back and he’d be alone again. But that was nothing new.
“Give me your paw.”
Clawsimodo didn’t hesitate, offering his paw which Nick took with both of his, turning the cheetah’s paw palm up.
“Hmm…” the fox hummed thoughtfully, running his claw across the pad of Clawsimodo’s palm. “Interesting.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Well, I’m reading your palm and I see the usual things like you’ll have a long life but…apparently something’s missing.”
“What is it?” he panicked.
Nick released his paw and shrugged, “I’m sorry Spots, I don’t see any monster lines. And the paw doesn’t lie.”
He looked at his paw, feeling like he had never truly seen it until now. No monster lines…
Nick showed his paw to Clawsimodo. “Now check me, do I have any evil lines?”
The cheetah balked, “No of course not! You’re the nicest mammal I’ve ever met!”
“I’m also a fox, one that used to make a living by stealing. And I think Bellwether’s wrong about the both of us.”
The words made Clawsimodo smile softly, he couldn’t necessarily agree with Nick opinion of Bellwether but…he was pretty sure he had just made his first friend.
“Niiick,” Finnick’s groan interrupted the quiet. The small fox was lying on his back and glaring at the stars. “Can we leave yet?”
Clawsimodo looked between the two. “I can get you out of here.”
Nick and Finnick stared at him. “What?” Nick breathed. “How, the doors are all guarded.”
Clawsimodo stood up, “I know every inch of this place. I can carry you two down the wall, they won’t see you.”
Finnick’s jaw dropped, “You’re insane.”
Nick jumped to his feet, “Let’s try it.”
Judy had slipped back into the church when Bellwether had left only to see the dancing fox no where in sight. She should’ve just left right then, why was it any of her business? So what if this fox was strange, and interesting, and handsome…why did she care?
Still she found herself slipping upstairs to keep looking. She had forced those two foxes to claim sanctuary. She felt responsible for what happened to them here.
Judy’s excellent heading picked up voices from above her head and somehow found herself on the roof. Taking a moment to still her shaking legs (curtesy of the great heights), and walked as close as she dared to the edge.
Just in time to see the two foxes reach the bottom of Notre Dame. Her eyes widened as she watched the two talk to the hunchback from the festival, and then they ran off into the dark of the streets, vanishing from sight.
The deformed cheetah nearly had a heart attack when he climbed back onto the roof and saw Judy standing there.
“You saved them,” she breathed, surprised.
The cheetah than growled and moved toward her in a threatening stance. “Go away!”
Judy jumped back, several feet, “Wait, wait hold on!”
“You can’t be here! It’s sanctuary! No soldiers are allowed!”
“I just wanted to check on them,” Judy reassured him. “I don’t mean them any harm!”
He snorted but didn’t step any closer, “Go away.”
“I promise I will, but I need you to do me a favor. Please, if he comes back tell him I’m sorry. Can you do that?”
The cheetah’s eyes narrowed and he was silent for a moment.
“If you go, now.”
Judy sighed in relief and turned to walk back down into the building. She stopped at the last second and turned around, “Also tell him he’s lucky.”
The cheetah’s confusion could almost be described as adorable. “Why?”
“I have good instincts when it comes to mammals,” Judy explained. “So I can tell he’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

The Bell-Watcher’s Daughter

Status: Complete  
Word Count: 2.2K
Category: One-shot; Vignette; On the case; Fellow hunters; Friendship; Behind-the-scenes canon compliant  
Rating: Teen & Up
Character(s): Dean, Sam [briefly], Reader -or- Female O.C.
Pairing(s): N/A
Warning(s): None 
Author’s Note(s): post-story
Overall Summary: Dean meets an acclaimed hunter’s daughter, one who knows a thing or two about the business of dying.

“Checkmate, you ass.”

Sam’s sputter of the water he’d just downed briefly morphed into coughing before ending with chuckling, but by the time he’d gotten there, she’d already been hard at work.

“You handed me the Queen to King’s Rook 5, I know you did.”

“Ha! What can I say, kid? Just been doing it longer. Thought I’d throw you a bone.”

Sam paired rolled eyes with a good-natured grin as he started collecting the pieces and putting them back into the barely-intact cigar box.

“I’d beat you at darts.”

“You sure you wanna make that bet?”

“Good point.”

“You pun like your brother.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

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fic summary: It is rumored that the bell ringer of Notre Dame has skin as green as sin. Isolated from the world, Elphaba is content being left alone, until a certain Gillikinese girl enters her life. While a romance slowly unfolds so grows the societal tension within the city’s walls. How long will it take before what’s brewing underneath Emerald City will reach those high towers? 

Alternatively, twenty years before our story begins, the first stone is placed.

massive thanks to @gelphie​ for making sure no dutch-isms stayed in this fic!

Read the prologue 


Zvončari Croatian Pagan Slavic Carnival

Halubajski zvončari (ringers) are old original group from the eastern part of the Kastav. Once upon a time this region was rich in pastures and sheep. When heavy rain would fall the shepherds would run to shelter in huts made of stone,wood or straw, called HALUBA. According to the older stories shepherds in the spring were going for the sheep in the forests at the foot of mountain, strung sheepskin and hung around the waist cow bells fearing away evil forces off their animals. They believed that the bells bring happiness, do good, so constantly ringing through the thick blackness of impenetrable forests they believed that ringing clears their way of evil. The costumes and equipment preserve the zoomorphic (animal-shaped) mask with horns and a big bell on the back. 

Like other ringers they drape the sheepskin, in their hands they carry bačuka which is also suggesting their warlike origin or function because of conflicts with Tatars or Turks that took place on this territory.

When the Turks invaded the region, then men masked themselves, in order to induce the impression of massiveness, and then the shepherds themselves wore sheepskin, placed a mask on their heads, and encircled the bells and horrible bučeći to chase the enemy away.

Hence in their equipment there are some weapons elements. The bell tradition is especially closely related to the awakening of nature, fertility cult and expression of strength against the evil spirits of winter (drawing ties to Pagan Slavic God Veles).

Its terrible appearance, unbridled power of ritual movement and bells, bell ringers announce winter retreat in front of the Sun, and their masks monuments announce spring – both in Halubje and in other parts of the northern Adriatic,Croatian and Europe where there are similar traditions.

“Notre Dame de Paris” (Batfam x gypsy! Reader x Ra’s Al Ghul) Part 1

Bonjour ma little wings! Here you have the first chapter of that disney au nobody asked for but everyone deserves! 

So this au will be based mainly in Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame, with also “Notre dame de Paris” Book elements and elements of the musical with the same name and elements from my imagination.

In the image above the fic will feature the main characters of each chapter


So I’ll give you 3 options and you message or coment your choice. The most voted of them will be the one that the reader will do.

Thanks to @hamsterforlive @chipsinabox @cecedot  and @aliceinwinderland for your coment and support of this au. Also thanks to   @algentforthewin @iisingintheshower @7tharchangel12 @pinkwitch21 @imaprincess09 @lostqueen1613 @cutiedaij @bloodhoundalice @browncoatforever @axa-vega @kaylaphantomhive @roxalienqueenx @memequeen108 for liking it and giving me the suport to write this!

Hope you enjoy!

Part1 (here we are)

Character GUIDE:

    Damian Wayne - Quasimodo

    Ra’s Al Ghul - Frollo

    Dick Grayson - Clopin

    Reader - Esmeralda

    Jason Todd - Phoebus

    Tim Drake - Pierre Gringoire

Other Info

  (y/n)  Your name      

 (h/c) Hair color    

   (e/c) eye color   

    (g/n) goat name    

   (f/c) Favorite color

The loud bells of Notre Dame rang, waking all Paris up.

Rolling in Paris, the city awakes to the bells of Notre Dame. The fisherman comes with fresh fish and the baker bakes to the Bells of Notre Dame. To the big bells loud as a thunder to the little bells as a sound, and some say the soul of the city it’s the total of the bells, the bells of Notre Dame!

A man dressed with a blue, black suit with yellow feathers in his collars and a matching blue mask, sat behind a cart. A bunch of children sat before him, waiting for him to end his song.

         “Listen! They are beautiful, no? So many colors and sounds, so many changing moves! Because, you know, they don’t ring all by themselves!” He said, suddenly he got a puppet of himself.

“They don’t?!” The puppet said.

“No. you silly boy! Up there, high, high in the dark bell tower lives the mysterious bell ringer! Who is this creature?”


“What is he?”


“How did he come to be there?”


“HUSH!” He hit the puppet with a stick as the children laugh at his antics.

“oww” The puppet whined.

“Nightwing will tell you! It is a tale, a tale of a man …and a monster!”

         Dark was the night our tale was begun on the docks near Notre Dame.

“Shut it up! will you!?” The man snarled

“We’ll be spotted!” yelled the other.

“Hush, little one” The woman shushed the crying baby.

Four frightened gypsies slid silently under the dock near Notre Dame.

“Pay, If you want a safe trip out of Paris”

But a trap had been laid for the gypsies and they gazed up in fear and alarm. At a figure whose clutches were iron as much as the bells,

“Judge Ra’s Al Ghul”

The bells of Notre Dame!

Judge Ra’s Al Ghul longed to purge the world of vice and sin, and he saw corruption everywhere, except within.

“Bring this gypsies back to the palace of justice”

“HEY, YOU! WHAT ARE YOU HIDDING?” A soldier pulled the bundle the woman was carrying, she fought back.

“Surely, nothing good. ..Take it from her”

She ran!

         The woman ran the judge closely behind. His dark horse’s hot breath hit the woman’s neck until she jumped a fence. He stopped and she ran towards the Notre Dame.

“SANTUARY! PLEASE GIVE US SANTUARY!” The woman knocks fast and loud on the church’s door. As the judge approached her she tried to run away.

He got a hold of the bundle and pulled hard, she lost her hold and foot.



As her neck came in contact with the cold snow in the stairs of Notre Dame. Al ghul looked unimpressed, he decided to look what the thing the gypsy was protecting.

“A baby?…No, A DEMON!” His eyes widened and quickly covered the baby’s face. He looked around for a way of getting rid of it. Hi eyes widened as he look at the well. He approached it, holding the baby out and ready to drop it.

“STOOOP!” Cried the archdeacon. Who in his arms, hold the dead gypsye’s cold body. Dark memories flood in the back of his eyes. The archdeacon Wayne looked up to the judge’s face.

“This is an unholy demon, I’m sending it back to hell. We’re it belongs.” The judge said nonchalant.

“See, the innocent blood you have spilt on the steps of Notre Dame.”

“I’m guiltless. She ran, I pursed.” He shrugged.

“Now, you would add this child’s blood to your guilt, on the steps of Notre Dame.”


“You can lie to yourself and your minions. You can claim that you haven’t a qualm. BUT YOU NEVER CAN RUN FROM NOR HIDE WHAT YOU DONE FROM THE EYES, THE VERY EYES OF NOTRE DAME!” Wayne pointed at the statue of the Mary and Jesus, as lighting illuminated their lifeless eyes.

         And from one time in his life of power and control, Ra’s felt a twinge of fear for his immortal soul.


“What must I do” The judge said, fear written all over his face.

“Care for the child” The Archdeacon said while carrying the body of the woman. “And raise as your own”

“WHAT?” He snarled. “I must be sated with this… monstrous demon from-“He seemed to have a realization, and his face relaxed. “Very well, but let him live with you in your church”

“Live here? Where?!”

“Anywhere…Just so he’s keep locked away where no can else can see… The bell tower, perhaps. And who knows, our Lord works in mysterious ways ” Ra’s looked back  at the baby. “Even this foul creature yet prove on day to be… of use… to me.”


         And Ra’s gave the child a cruel name, a name that mean TO TAME, DAMIAN.

Now here is riddle to guess if you can sing the bells of Notre Dame, who is the monster and who is the man?

Sing the bells, bells, bells, bells BELLS OF NOTRE DAME!


Paris woke up preparing for the festival of fools. People setting up colorful tents and a stage at the middle.

Damian looked at everyone, wanting to be freed of his dread. He saw a young little robin, he’s been caring for, for a while back.

“You think you’ll fly today?” He caressed the bird’s hair “I would do it if I where you. Who wants to be trapped here?” He huffed, his abnormal eyes locking down at the ant sized humans setting up the tents.

Then a flock of other birds flew by, Damian smiled encourageously at the little bird who started waving its wings until he was flying above Damian’s hands.

“Go” He smiled at the bird who flew away with the rest. Damian sighed sadly keep looking down. Suddenly the two gargoyles next to him came alive.

“Uff, I thought that bird was never leaving!” A purple bat gargoyle said, spitting straw from the bird’s nest. “I’ll be spitting feathers for a week!”

“Stop exaggerating, Steph.” Another bat shaped gargoyle, this one with yellow and black tones.  “That’s what you get for sleeping with your mouth open!”

“Har har! So funny Babs! Go scare a nun.” Steph said as she leaned in Damian’s shoulder. “Hey, Dami! What’s going on down there? A fight? A flagon?”

“A festival” Said Babs.

“You mean the fest of fools?!” Steph said, exited as Damian nodded “Alright alright alright! Pour the wine and cut the cheese!”

“It is a treat to see the colorful pageantry of the simple peasant folk” Babs said to Damian.

“Boy, I never liked a balcony seat for watching the FOF!” Said Steph ribbing her hands together.

“Yeah” said Damian darkly. “Watch” He then went back inside.

“Oh look a mime…” Steph was about to spit the mime but Babs covered her mouth before anything went down. Obligating Steph to swallow it. She then pointed at Damian. “Het hey! What gives?”

“Aren’t you going to watch the festival with us?” Babs asked.

Damian ignored them.

“I don’t get it!” Steph said to Babs.

“Perhaps he is sick”

“Impossible” A third gargoyle said. This one was completely black. “If 18 years of listening to your arguing hasn’t made him sick, nothing will.”

“But, Cass. Watching the festival of fools has always been the highlight of the year for Damian”

“There is nothing good of seeing a festival if you can never be on it”  She scared the doves above her before following Damian. “He isn’t made of stone like us”

Damian sat beside a handmade replica of the cathedral and the square. With handmade figures of the people living there. He looked longingly at them as the three gargoyles looked sadly at him, Cass decided to approach him.

“What’s wrong” Cass asked, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“I just, don’t feel like watching the festival”

“Never thought about going there instead?” Cass asked.

“Sure, but I’d never fit in out there. I’m not normal”

“Oh Dami, Dami Dami” Cass said as Steph jumped inside his replica.

“Hey! Quit beating yourself! What do he have to do? Paint you a fresco?!” Steph grabbed the Damian shaped figure from the bell tower and put it beside the other.

“As your friend and guardians, we insist you attend the festival.” Babs said, grabbing Damian by his arm.

“Me?” He asked.

“No, the pope” Said Steph. “Of course you!”

“It would be a fantastical potpourri of educational experience.” Babs nodded

“ Wine, women, animals and so!” Steph said.

“You could learn to identify regional types of cheeses.” Babs said exited.

“A bucket of snails!” Steph said holding a bucket.

“Study indigenous folk music” Babs gestured like she was playing a guitar.

“AND DANCE!” Steph poured the bucket over babs, who glared at her.

“Take it from me, life is not spectator sport. If watching is all you’re going to do, then you’re going to watch your life go by without you.” Advised Cass.

“Yeah, you are human! With flesh, and hair and navel… We’re just part of the architecture! Right Babs?”

“Yes.” Said Babs. Before putting the bucket in Steph’s head.

“Dami, just grab a fresh tunic, a clean pair of pants and go.” Cass tried to drag Damian but he just patted her head.

“Thanks for the encouragement, but you’re all forgetting a really big problem.”

“WHAT?!” The three of them asked.

“My grandfather, Ra’s Al Ghul.” He grabbed a green clad figurine.

“Oh” said the three gargoyles.

“Well, when he says you’re “forbidden” of ever leaving the bell tower, does he mean ever EVER?” Babs asked awkwardly.

“Never ever, and he hates the Fest of fools. He’ll be furious if I asked” Damian sighed.

“Who said you had to ask?” Steph smirked evilly.

“No” Damian said

“You sneak out”

“Just once” Cass said

“Then, you sneak back in!” Said Steph again

“He’ll never know” Cass put a finger in her mouth.

“But if I get caught…”

“Better beg for forgiveness than ask for permission” Babs said, nonchalant.

“They’ll see me!”

“Wear a disguise! Just this once!” Steph put a towel over her head. “What Ra’s doesn’t know, can’t hurt you!” She hides behind Babs.

“Ignorance is bliss” Babs said, mater-of-factly

“No one wants to stay here forever” Cass says.

Damian thought it for a moment, before getting up.

“You’re right! I’ll go”

“YEAH! HURRAY!” Steph said as the three of them cheered.

“I’ll get clean”


“I’ll go down those stairs.”


“I’ll cross the doors and-”

“Good morning, Damian” Ra’s Al Ghul said darkly.


Meanwhile, under the watch of Notre dame a young gypsy woman with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, walked in between the tents.

“(y/n)! wait!” Nightwing, or best known as Dick called you. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, Hello Dick. I’m just searching for Harley, she was repairing my scarf. You know, for the festival.”

“AH! I think I saw her in the green tent, she was helping Ivy.”

“Great, thanks.” You smiled at him and went to find the clown girl.

“WAIT! I’ll go with you!” Dick shouted. He ran towards you, and then proceeded to walk next to you, talking nonstop.

“Oh, where here!” He says.” Now, I have to go back and talk with pop Haley… You think, we can, maybe, I dunno… eat together later? I’ll cook!”

“Okay, but please. Let Jon cook, you will just burn it.” You smiled at him.

“Great! See you later!” He walked away and you got inside the tent, to see Ivy and Harley talking, sitting there with Zatanna.

“(Y/n)! Coming for your scarf?” Harley smiled. Ivy and Zatanna both greeted you with a smile.

“Hey Ivy, Z. Yes, Harls, did you fix it?”

“Fix it? Heck, I improved it!” She smiles, proud of herself. She gets your scarf from inside a brown basked. It was a silk (f/c) with sequins a preset from your mom. Harley had sewed new bright little jewels than sparkled with every movement.

“Oh, Harls… I love it!” You hugged her. She laughed and patted your back.

“Great! Now go! Go practice for your big moment tomorrow! You’ll break so many hearts!” She cheered

“I saw a rather quiet street, not far away. The guards don’t drop by often.” Said Zatanna.

“Great, thanks Z!”

“Be careful, (y/N)!” Said Ivy.

“Will do, thanks!” You smiled.


You put a hat you borrowed from Raptor on the ground, your trusty goat by your side. She watched that no one robbed you.

You started dancing, the only sound that could be heard in the street has the one from your tambourine.

Almost everyone that passed by, gave you a coin. Some looked at you lustfully, some other impressed, and more often that you would like disgusted looks.

A little kid approached you and put a coin in your hat, (g/n) beeed at him, jumping, the little kid smiled and you bowed your head. He bowed back when his mom called him. He said goodbye and ran towards his mom.

At the beginning of the street were you were, Jason Todd, acclaimed knight returned to Paris, his black hair brushed by the wind, his once boney shoulders were now broad shoulders and with what seemed like a red helmet looked at a map, his brown, almost red horse following behind.        

“Hmm, you go for a couple of decades and they change everything!” He said as he wrinkled the map and threw it away. As two guards passed by he decided to ask them.

“Excuse me, the way to the palace of justice?” But the two guards ignored him. He swearer. “I guess not” Then continued his way down the street.

That’s when, after leaving 2 coins in your hat he saw you.

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, enchanted.

You bowed your head nodding, at the same time you hit your tambourine, smiling charmingly.

He smiled rather silly before recomposing himself. Coughing awkwardly, he tried to smile charmingly before going away meanwhile you had heard the call of the guards approaching and tried to run away, (g/n) grabbed your hat but the money fell over, you went back and were gathering them when a guard grabbed you hat before you could reach it.

“Alright, gypsy. Where did you get the money?”

“For your information, I earned it” You got your hat and money back from his clutches.

“Gypsies, don’t earn money” The guard said. You glared at him as the other grabbed you from behind.

“You stole it” Said the one holding you.

“You’ll know a lot about stealing” You said.

“Troublemaker” said the other guard, trying to take your hat. You kicked him in the face, the got away from the hold of the other guard. Your goat then glared at them, kicking one in the shin and kicking the other one in the face. Knocking them down, one of them unconscious. You then took advantage and ran away in the other direction, running towards your secret shortcut to your tent.

Jason, who had seen everything followed you with his eyes until he couldn’t see you anymore. He was very impress with your fierceness.

When the guards tried to follow you he suddenly put his horse in their way, knocking them back down. The one who had bullied you more fell right on a puddle.

“Arsenal, sit” And the horse sat over the guard, making him fell in the puddle.

The people that gathered around them started laughing at their misery, Jason mockingly said:

“Oh, dear I’m so sorry! Naughty horse, naughty! Really, he’s just impossible” Jason leaned over Arsenal, smiling openly and rather fake. “Can’t take him anywhere!”

You, that had stopped in an alley seeing as your shortcut was crowded by guards, had seen everything. You bit your lip and smiled. That man sure has handsome! You looked at him one last time and turned the alley.

“GET THIS THING OFF OF MEE!” The guard yelled painfully.

“I’ll teach you a lesson” Said the other one, unsheathing his sword. Jason got his own sword from his sheath.

“You were saying” Jason smirked. “Lieutenant?”

Then the guard as if he had seen the light for the first time started stuttering and acting nervously.

“Oh, eh , Oh Captain!” He hit his head with his sword trying to salute him, only making a fool of himself. “AT YOUR SERVICE!”

Jason dig his sword on the ground and it cut the other guards moustache. Then he kneeled at the same height as the guards and said:

“I know you have a lot on your mind right now, but the palace of justice?”

In a few moments, they were yelling



Jason saw a few coins on the ground and grabbed them, leaving them in the hat of a beggar in front of him and followed the guards to the palace.

When they were far, you unhooded and looked at the handsome guard who just had given you back the money that fell in your escape.


That night when you arrived back to your tent, Dick was waiting for you. Food served and a beautiful flower inside a wood glass.

“Dick, what’s al of this?” You asked surprised.

“Well, This is your first festival of fools. I wanted to make it more special. I didn’t cooked this! I swear! It was Eddie! I didn’t know he could cook but surprisingly he can. So if it’s horrible it’s his fault!” Dick rambled.

“Thanks Dick” You kissed his cheek. And Dick’s face reddened.

You obligated Dick to get his mark off for eating. You two had a great time, laughing, making jokes and Dick re-told you the story of the mysterious bell ringer.

“Dick, you’ve told me this story since I was a baby!”

“I know, but it’s very mysterious right?”

“Yeah. It is” You looked outside your tent towards the bell tower, where you swear you saw something moving.

“You know, I told you I had a little encounter with the guard earlier?” You asked absent

“Yeah, I told you they’re complete idiots! Those should be the king of fools, haha!” Dick laughed before taking a sip of his drink.

“I meet the captain” You said and Dick spited his drink.

“DID HE DO SOMETHING TO YOU?” He yelled, checking for bruises.

“No, he was very nice. He even stopped the guards of following me…He was very handsome, his black hair” Dick cheeked his black hair and frowned “his starling blue eyes” Dick’s hands touched his eyes and his frown worsened “And, OH! Those shoulders! Those tights!” You sighed. And Dick pouted.

“I have those same things!” he thought

“Hey, I heard from Z and Ivy that there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight. Wanna go with me?” Dick smiled adorably.

(What will you say?)

A)  Yes.

B)   No, I’ll stay here.

C)   Yes, but we go with the others.