Inspired by a Tumblr RP between smolderingeyesravenhair and thisfireinmyskin. People, go follow them, they're awesome!
TW for this chapter: sexual abuse
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Esmeralda clings to Quasimodo's large palm, but her eyes are affixed on the man towering above her, sword in hand.
Then, the unthinkable happens. Her hand slips.
"NO!" the woman shrieks, fingers clawing at empty air.
But the rescuer is rescued. Esmeralda watches as another hero below catches her brave defender.
She hears the laugh, that sinister, mocking laugh. Her gaze darts up to the dark figure that now hoists a sword above his head.
His eyes burn with the need to destroy, to kill. The monster stares at his hapless prey, about to leap across the divide, plunge the sword into the temptress's neck and spill her crimson blood over the steps. The blood of a demon on the floors of a church. How poetic.
But... fate had other plans.
Both parties hear an alarming crack. And Frollo's bloodlust is interrupted by his own fear as his balance, his own center of gravity, tips.
His gaze snaps up to the very thing he had sought to destroy. Her gaze, her emerald gaze burrows into his own, as the very knowledge of his precarious situation flashes through both their minds as momentary as a lightning bolt splitting the sky.
She has done this for sure. He is certain that her treachery has led him here, and that she had planned this demise all along. And now he would die. He would fail, and die.
The epiphany of his situation only takes mere milliseconds in both their minds.
But mere milliseconds are all it takes to change the course of events entirely.
He topples back, arms flailing in such an undignified way... when a hand grasps the front of his robes, and yanks him back.
Instantly, Esmeralda lets go of the black velvet, horror flooding through her system. Questions blaze through her head-the most prevalent being, why save him?
She stumbles back, tripping over her own tired feet. Her body slams into the stone floor, knocking the wind out of her.
Frollo stumbles back onto the ledge, the utter shock of the events that had transpired still fresh in his mind. As he falls beside her, the succubus, the witch, the cold stone does not register. No. Instead all he can think about, all he can see is the witch sprawled on the floor, her green eyes so wide, so consuming.
She saved him.
She saved him.
And now, she tries to scramble away, run away like a frightened child. But his hand claws at her arm and slams her down into the ground.
She lets out a cry of pain as her head connects to the stone ground. Stars blink before her eyes, dancing before his leering, approaching face. He's on top of her, pinning her down.
Frollo sinks his nails into her skin. Her act of mercy... is it simply a need to keep him alive because of her spell? Because she needs him alive in order to torment him?
Well, then he shall teach her the price of such schemes.
She struggles valiantly, her hoarse voice screaming for help. It is time to silence her wicked tongue once and for all.
Before he can think, his lips are upon hers, crushing, violating, tasting. Her sweet flavor hits his tongue, and heat courses through his veins. A muffled shriek reverberates against their lips, their intertwined lips, oh! She tastes too good to be human.
Dread crashes on her as ecstasy soars within him. She wriggles and squirms, only to realize, her movements are satisfying the carnal hunger he possesses, the one he's always possessed since he groped her within this very cathedral. Tears sting her eyes as he pants and moves against her, the hard rod of his erection grinding into her. Stop, stop, stop!She inwardly screams, trying to bite him, pinch him, do anything to get this monster off of her. Disgust mingles with her own horror as the beast ignores her struggles, and simply presses harder. Her skin crawls, and a crushing weight presses on her chest, and not just his body pinning her down.
He yanks his head off, only to resume pressing his scalding lips to her neck, his cunning fingers pulling at her dirty, singed prison shift. Esmeralda opens her lips scream, only for hoarse, broken cries to leave her mouth. He leers at this, and groans into her neck. "Mine, mine, mine forever," he mutters over and over, branding her with his acid lips. She struggles, repulsed by him, frightened by him, angered by him. "Get off me! Now!" she says, jerking beneath him.
"Your spell no longer will have hold on me, gypsy," he sneers. For a moment, he stares into those glinting eyes, those luscious, swollen lips... and is absolutely bewitched. He shifts, pinning both of her wrists down with one of his own large hands. As he drags his hand down her body, Esmeralda is paralyzed by repulsion and fear. No, please, just stop! She inwardly screams, the hand now akin to fire in her mind- to be avoided at all cost.
But he ignores her pleading, forges on. His hands grip at her shift and begin to pull upward, revealing her squirming, smooth legs. His breathing hastens and he can barely hold himself up as her luscious expanse of flesh is revealed.
"You wished to let me live, to keep tormenting me with enchantments. I shall teach you the punishment for such heathen folly!" he spits out, his voice rough with arousal. His own loins swell, and there is nothing she could do but scream weakly for help as he grasps at his robes to push them away and reveal his arousal.
If he had been his usual, meticulous self, he would have heard the footsteps behind him.
But he didn't. Which is why both Phoebus and Quasimodo are able to wrench the Minister from the fallen gypsy, and slam him into the stone-wall behind him.
A cry of infuriation tears from his lips, before an agonizing blow connects to his face.
Blinded and reeling from the hit, he strikes out with his arm but hits no one, as someone wrenches his hands behind his back.
The next exchanges were rapid fire, so much so he hardly knows what is occurring as handcuffs are clamped on to his wrists.
"Stay away from her!"
"Arrest him!
A tall, imposing man dressed in the crown's colors, now stands before him, reading from parchment.
"Minister, by royal decree, I hereby relieve you of your duties..."
Frollo snarls and spits in return, protesting against the charges. He does not hear the rest of the attendant's pompous words, for he instead attempts to fight his way out of their grasps, only for more men to hold him down.
His gaze snaps up to the very cause of his downfall.
The gypsy girl is pulled into an intimate embrace, with the Captain. She trembles, oh; the witch is such a good pretender, feigning her innocence.
"Have you all gone mad?!" Frollo bellows, deep voice echoing in the high rafters above as he is dragged away by the very men who once feared him.
Not one soldier speaks to the ranting, raving man that fights and struggles against his arms.
As he is dragged down the stairs, Esmeralda clings to Phoebus, trembling.
Quasimodo slowly takes her hand. "Esmeralda, it's okay, you're safe."
No response.
"He's being arrested. The king sent out a decree that he'll be imprisoned. He won't hurt you again," the hunchback says, gripping at her trembling hand.
I saved him, Esmeralda thinks, and disgust fills her to the brim.
"Esmeralda? Esmeralda?!"
Why did I save him?
Both Phoebus and Quasimodo turn to the pale, quivering woman, concern etched on their faces.
"Are you all right?"
Esmeralda never answers their question, clinging onto them.
As one woman barely speaks to her rescuers, a man below bellows curses at his sudden enemies.
While one is saved, the other is damned.
And yet both worlds now shatter, irreparably damaged by the fire that once burned in the square.
xxx