Spoons: Hya, people! Welcome to a collab by Skibz and Spoons, based off of The Phantom of the Opera! Of course, one of the differences is that it's, well, yaoi-themed.
Skibz: hookay...I'M BACK! The wonderful, the beautiful the uber beautiful SKIBZ HAS RETURNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAH -evil cackle evil cackle- As my wonderful assistance explained, we are co writing a THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA fanfiction. In this particular story Spoons and I used our creative perverse skills to rape Raoul. I hate those damn Americans....(i know i'm going to be flammed for that) to bad i am American..... feel sorry for me... god bless Canada.
Spoons: ;; ahh...yes. Anyway, we do not, in any way, shape, or form, own The Phantom of the Opera or its actors...characters...music...whatever...
Skibz:....though i DO own Draco Malfoy... who is regrettably NOT in this fic... but he still MINE I TELL MINE ALL MINE... oh and JK Rollings.... but we can just kill her off.... and then he's MINE ALL MINE MUHAHAHAHAHAHA...... ahm.... sorry about that folks...
Spoons:.....AAAnyway...this fic is rated R for sexual content. ; and if you want to read the NC-17 version, it's on Under Spoons, of course. And under Skillets on
Skibz..... YERGH! I HATE THOSE CONBLASTED PEOPLE WHO HAD THE ABSOLUTE "BRILLIANT" IDEA TO LIKE BAN MOST HARD CORE FICS FROM MAY THEY BERN...LIKE HILARY DUFF..... AND THE KIDS BOP KIDS....AND MR. ROGERS.... AND THAT ONE SONG THEY PLAY SPASTICLY ON THE RADIO BY BRITTNEY SPEARS... AND NO.... SHE HERSELF CAN LIVE... BUT ONLY BECAUSE SHE'S HOT.... i'm done ranting now..... ;;;
Spoons: Ehhehe...uh...the following are annoying symbols 'cause won't let us italicize.
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-blah- = italics
'blah' = thoughts
"blah" = speech, of course
()()()()()()() = scene/time change
(Spoons): = parts Spoons wrote
(Skibz): = parts Skibz wrote.
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Spoons: Uh, I think that may be everything...oh, and we -do- own the little twists that we added to the plotline. Those we own.
Skibz: I KNOW WHAT YOUR FORGETTING! Ooooo pick me pick me!
Spoons: Uh... O.o ....Skibz?
Skibz: Ahhm: This fanfiction contains a yaoi rape scene between THE PHANTOM and urgh... what's his name again???
Spoons: Raoul.
Skibz: Oh yeah that shady Raoul character.... i never liked him anyway... umm what was i saying..... ho Yeah.. I remember... THIS IS A RAPE!!!! NON CON! DO YOU HEAR ME!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!! RAPE! RAPE! RAPE RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!!AND NOT JUST ANY RAPE.... NO A RAPE BETWEEN TWO MEN!! SO IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THE WHOLE BOYS LOVING BOYS THANG.... THEN LOOK ELSEWHERE FOR YOU PHANOM OF THE OPERA RAPE FICS... AND MAY YOU FIND HAPPINESS WITH THAT DITZ CHRISTIEN...AND IF I GET MY WAY... SHE WILL INDEED DIE BEFORE THE END OF THIS FIC....DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?????? NOT ONLY IS THERE RAPE BUT MURDER!!!! YOU HEAR ME??? MURDER! THAT MEANS THAT SOMEONE DIES!!!!!! (HOPEFULLY CHRISTINE BUT I'M NOT SURE YET....)
Spoons: o.O Ahh...let's start the fic, yes?
Skibz: i suppose if we must... i kinda liked it when we were just sorta ranting about it but... hell... i suppose we could actually write the damn thing....(and i'm swearing because anyone under 18 should NOT be reading this... and everyone over 18 is generally not offended by coarse language... but if you are... we might throw in some bad words here and there..... and... do you know what that means???? SWEAR WORDS!!!!!!! THIS FIC HAS SWEAR WORDS IN IT! SO IF YOU ARE OVER 18....OR SIMPLY ARE LIKE US... PERVERSE LITTLE TEENAGE GIRLS... THEN enjoy!
Spoons: On to the fic. Our scene opens with Raoul staying late after the masked ball to do some last-minute clean up, cuz he's just so nice. Please don't kill me for having the wrong lyrics in the song. Oh, and I refused to edit or alter Skibz's part of the fic, because when I read it over it melted my eyes out of their sockets and I couldn't see the keyboard. And my brain was liquidated, too, so I couldn't feel my fingers. Therefore even if I -could- have seen the keyboard, I wouldn't have been able to type the corrections.
The really hard-core part of the rape scene has been removed from this version, but not from the one on and DeviantArt, just for those of you who like it dirty.
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Romance pour Raoul
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((Part 1 (Spoons): After the Masked Ball))
"Goodbye, Raoul! I'll see you tomorrow!"
"Goodbye, love!" Raoul called after her, waving his hand in farewell. Christine smiled warmly and exited out the massive, double doors, along with several others who'd attended the masked ball. The spacious ballroom seemed much larger without the dozens upon dozens of costumed people dancing about in it. He smiled at the thought of the ball and his engagement to his lovely Christine- his secret engagement. He'd asked her why it was supposed to be secret. She had refused to answer.
Most of the decorations and food had already been cleaned up and taken back down to the store rooms, but there were still some hangings on the walls and ceiling next to the stairs that had yet to be taken down. He walked up the staircase and began to carefully remove the hangings, making sure not to rip them. As he worked his way up the stairs his mind ran over that night's events. For six months the phantom seemed to have vanished from the theatre, but not an hour ago he'd stood on these very stairs, demanding that his play be performed. It was, to be sure, an unusual demand. Earlier that year he'd tried to force the owners of the theatre to put Christine in the leading rolls. He stepped up another stair and threw the paper hangings he'd already gotten down over his shoulder. Now that phantom wanted his work to be performed. What did he have to gain from that? Publicity? It certainly was the wrong way to go about doing it. He'd nearly killed their lead singer, Carlotta, several times.
He reached the top of the stairs, where he'd left his water glass earlier that night, and picked it up in his free hand, taking a small sip and setting it back down on the table. He gave the decorations one last tug and they fell from the wall, fluttering slowly to the ground. There were still some to be taken down from the ceiling, but they were easy to reach. He left his armful in a pile by the table and walked a ways along the second floor until he could reach the dangling paper, leaning over the railing to tug at them.
The phantom was certainly unusual. The fact that he was homicidal had already been established, and that fact alone made him a danger. It would be better for everyone if he was caught soon and brought to justice. Part of the hangings came loose and swayed back and forth above the floor slowly. He appeared to be nothing more than a black cape with a white mask covering half of a face. And the way he was able to access any part of the theatre at will made him even more unusual and dangerous.
'Perhaps he really -is- a ghost.' Raoul thought, as the dangling paper finally came loose and drifted to the floor below. He wiped a hand across his brow and walked back to the table, picking up his water and downing about half of it. He decided that it must have gone stale already, because the taste seemed rather bitter. The hangings fluttered about in the air as he picked them up in his arms and began to descend the stairs.
As he reached the bottom step his footing suddenly slipped, causing him to lose his balance and fall towards the floor. He managed to reach out with his hands and stop himself from cracking his head on the wood floor, the paper hangings tangling around his arms and shoulders. It wasn't the first time he'd missed a step, but he was usually a lot more tired than this when it happened. Shaking his head, he picked himself up and walked towards the fallen ceiling hangings, forgetting the ones that he'd left at the bottom of the staircase. The red and yellow colors on the paper seemed almost vibrant as he approached them. He reached out and grasped it, the sensation in his hands slightly numb. The wood panels in the floor seemed to blend together when he made his way back to the stairs. Everything in the room appeared to be giving off a brilliant light that made the walls and floor swim and twist around in a very nauseating manner. He stumbled and fell to his knees, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. Everything was a swirling mass of color and light. It was difficult to make out where the stairs were, and then shakily stand up, having trouble trying not to fall again. He reached out and clutched the stair rail. The cold metal felt strange in his hands. A dull, painful sensation issued from his knees as he sank quickly to the floor, losing his grip on the rail.
He became faintly aware of someone pulling him to his feet. He grappled around until his hands met the cold rail again, and hung on as well as he could.
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((Part 2 (Skibz): Sweet Seduction))
Deftly his mysterious savior led him down a dark corridor. By this time the drug was beginning to wear off and he could faintly make out the shapes of the surrounding sets and costumes that littered the ground and walls of the auditorium. The man gripping him tightly by the shoulders turned yet another corner and Raoul's stomach lurched... 'Where is he taking me?' Raoul distantly thought before blacking out and falling onto the cold stone floor.
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Raoul woke up to the musky scent of incense and bright candle light burning through his half closed eyelids. Reaching to touch his pounding head he slowly rubbed his eyes until they came into focus once more. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying on the ground of a rather dungeon looking area of the theater that he wasn't even aware existed. Sitting up slowly he glanced around the room, fear trembling through out his veins... "Where am i?" he whispered slowly to himself.
"You are in my sanctum dear Raoul." Came a ghostly voice behind him.
Turning around quickly peering into the darkness of the candle clad room, his vision blurring in and out. Suddenly as if from nowhere a figure cloaked in black mad its way from the shadows towards him. Raoul sat stock still the fear emanating throughout his body clearly written on his face.
"Don't be afraid Raoul... my angel... i don't intend on killing you...you have poisoned me with your sweet intoxication as i have poisoned you with mine." The figure announced as he took yet another step in the direction of Raoul."Get away from me....what do you want????" Raoul screamed as loud as his bruised voice would allow him trying vainly to back away from the approaching figure.
"Only you can make the sweet music i crave reach my ears." Was the figures only response?
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Rape scene (see author's notes for location of full version)
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"Past the point of no return... no backward glances." The phantom muttered hoarsely zipping his trousers back up to hide his already hardening member.
Raoul barely heard the phantoms words as he drifted into the sweet world of unconsciousness.
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((Part 3 (Spoons): Don Juan Triumphant))
He blinked slowly and tried to sit up, only to fall back down on the hard floor. His head and back, among other things, were throbbing painfully. After a few minutes of effort, he finally managed to prop himself up on his arms and look around. He was back in the ballroom, on the second floor next to the table upon which still sat his water. Suddenly consumed by rage, he scrambled to his feet and knocked the glass to the floor, shattering it into countless shards and spilling the rest of the liquid onto the wood. He sank to his knees as his angry shouts turned to sobs.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() two weeks later ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
At last it was the night of the play, Don Juan Triumphant. Raoul sat in his usual seat in the balcony with his legs crossed, watching the opening scene of the performance, not really listening to the dissonant songs or the colorful dancers. Rather, his mind was on the trap that he and Christine, along with the two theatre owners and the local police, had set up for tonight to finally catch the phantom. He frowned. Not an hour went by that his mind did not return to that night two weeks ago. He hadn't told anyone what had taken place, not even Christine. Tonight, he thought, clutching his hands into fists, was the night he would finally take his revenge on the so-called phantom of the opera. The police were guarding every possible way in and out of the theatre. There was no way that he could escape.
Christine's duet was soon to begin. She had been rather silent around him recently, no doubt wondering about his obsession with catching the phantom. He did feel a bit bad about worrying her like that, but after tonight things could finally go back to normal. Piangi, who was playing Don Juan disguised in a black cloak, emerged from his hiding place and approached Christine, beginning his part of the haunting duet.
-You have come here
In pursuit of your deepest urge.
In pursuit of that wish which 'til now has been silent.
Silent.-
It wouldn't be long now. The phantom had to show up soon. Raoul folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and tried his hardest to relax, feeling unusually flustered.
-I have brought you
That our passions may fuse and merge.
In your mind you've already succumbed to me-
Dropped all defenses- completely succumbed to me.-
His eyes snapped open as images from two weeks ago began to flash through his mind. Were those not the exact words the phantom had said??
-Now you are here with me.
No second thoughts.
You've decided.
Decided.-
He forced himself to breathe slowly, saying over and over again to himself that it was only in his imagination.
-Past the point of no return.
No backward glances.
The games we've played 'til now are at an end.-
No. It wasn't his imagination. The phantom had said those exact things to him. The man sitting next to him stared at him oddly.
-Past all thought of if or when.
No use resisting.
Abandon thought and let the dream descend.-
"Are you alright, sir?" The old man whispered, handing him a handkerchief. Raoul accepted it and wiped his brow, then nodded and returned it. The man gave him one last look and directed his gaze back at the stage.
-What raging fire shall flood the soul?
What rich desire unlocks its door?
What sweet seduction lies before us?-
He pressed his fingers to his temples and leaned back in his chair, hands shaking uncontrollably.
-Past the point of no return-
The final threshold.
What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn
Beyond the point of no return?-
As the verse ended his willpower broke. He stood, quickly exiting the booth and descending the stairs that led to the main hall. The paintings and decorations on the walls seemed to blur past him as he made his way through the winding hallways, not really paying attention to where he was going.
At last he looked up and found that he'd walked straight to the empty ballroom. He took a moment to collect himself and walked across the dance floor towards the staircase. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs he reached out and grasped the rail, remembering that night's events. He'd been standing right here. Right on this very spot where the wood was chipped away where it met the marble rail post.
A thought occurred to him just then. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense out of the drugged images he'd seen before he'd been dragged away by the phantom. They had turned to the right. He let go of the rail and faced the entrance to the back room, walking towards it slowly.
The tiny room was dark and cluttered. The only other entrance into it was a small door on the opposite side of where he had just entered. Confused as to why he was doing this, he went out the door and found himself on an old stage, littered with costumes and props. Perhaps if he reached his destination he would have the answer. This stage seemed familiar. He must be getting closer. They had turned a corner before entering the dark corridor where he'd finally blacked out, but there didn't seem to be any other doors. Just the rows of red audience seats.
He went around the stage slowly, checking every wall and prop for a possible secret entrance. After about half an hour, when his search began to seem hopeless, a grinding noise sounded behind him. He turned around to see that a passage had appeared in the wall, leading down into the dark depths below the theatre. A faint breeze was blowing from the corridor, tossing his hair about gently. He stood hesitating at the entrance. After a minute he took a step, and then another, and was soon making his way slowly down the pitch-black passage. The door slid closed behind him with a thud, making him jump slightly. The only way to go now was down. He felt along the wall carefully, unable to see or hear anything. The passage seemed to go on for hours.
At last he came to a cavern, filled with candles and small pools of water. A gigantic lake was not twenty feet away, the water lapping against the rocky shore. The noise it made echoed strangely off of the walls, giving the dark cavern a surreal atmosphere. A familiar voice spoke, sending chills down his spine.
"I am curious as to why you've returned here, Raoul." The phantom said softly from his place by a large candle rack. The ivory mask he wore shone in the light from the candles, making it difficult to see the other side of his face clearly. Raoul swallowed and took a subconscious step backwards as the dark figure began to approach him.
"I-I...ah..." His back bumped against the rock wall. The phantom stopped a foot away from him and ran a gloved hand through Raoul's hair.
"I trust that you enjoyed my play? Don Juan Triumphant is a fantastic piece of work." The hand traced the side of Raoul's face and moved onto his neck. Raoul's throat had gone dry. He brought his hands up to push the phantom away, but found them pinned to his sides. "I admire your effort in setting that trap for me, but you and those fools should know better by now." He leaned in close, his face now an inch away from Raoul's. Despite all your efforts, I got what I wanted in the end."
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Dirty, dirty sex scene ; (the end, folks)
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