A/N: This is a very special story. It is inspired by a conversation on POL, where I have volunteered to create a series of stories that are well known to all phanfic writers and readers. It will provide you with all the knowledge and information that one requires to write 'Badphics'.
However, these stories will be written purely for entertainment value and I hereby take no blame if you should write such a story and have the BEEP flamed out of you by outraged phans. Also, just to keep it all happy and cheerful, there is much censoring involved.
The Very Best of Badphics
Chapter One: Saga of an Abusive!Raoul
Raoul de Chagny – May also be written Raol, Raul, or the Fop. (de Chagny may also be spelled Changy or Chagney)
Christine de Chagny – Christen, Kristine. (if still Daaé – Daee, Daayee)
Erik – Eric, The Phantom, Sex-bomb.
It was a bright, sunny, shiny day in Paris. Christine Daaé was sat in her bedroom of her wonderfully marvellous mansion where she now lived with Raoul. They were to be married the very next day. It had been a whole week since Christine had left poor Erik down in the cellar. And in that time she had quickly realised that maybe he wasn't such a bad guy after all, once you got past the craziness and murderous tendencies and she'd much rather be living in his damp cellar than in this fantastic house.
"Oh, my Angel/Angle of Music. How I miss you." Christine sighed heavily, but ever-so-prettily. She began to brush out her long, shiny, gorgeous, curly hair as she sang. Which song? Well let's pick one… hmm, yes, I think we'll go with:
Angle of music!
Guide and guardian
Grant to me your glory!
Angel of music!
Hide no longer
Secret and Strange Angel!
(A/N: Any song from the musical may be substituted, as well as a variety of modern day ones – we recommend 'My Heart Will Go On', 'Bring Me To Life' or anything by Kelly Clarkson or Green Day.)
"Christine?" She turned to see Raoul standing in the doorway, his girly-hair tied into a ponytail with a bright pink ribbon. He did not look happy.
"Christine, you must not sing anymore! It is not fitting for someone who will be my future wife and it might remind you of that horrible, horrible crazy man. You know, the one who tried to kill me."
"I am sorry, Raoul. But I miss my Angel/Angle so much." Christine said, her enormous eyes filling with tears. Raoul hugged her.
"Oh, my poor Christine. I'm sure you will feel better tomorrow when we are married and you will never be able to escape my evil clutches."
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing." Raoul kissed her.
Neither of them saw the masked face in the window. Perhaps because they were so busy smooching.
"So do I."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." The priest said. It had been a lovely, if brief ceremony.
Raoul and Christine spent a lovely honeymoon somewhere. I don't know where, let's say Italy. That's romantic. Anyway, they returned to Paris as happy as a pair of happy sheep. And for quite a while things were very happy and shiny.
And then, for no apparent reason, Raoul began to drink. Whiskey, scotch, vodka, beer, you name it, he downed it. Christine noticed, of course, but could do nothing about it. She was sure that he would get better soon.
One night Raoul returned from a night of heavy drinking and saw Christine sleeping in bed. He climbed into bed beside her, as was customary, and began to grope her. Christine woke up and was righteously outraged.
"No, Raoul! That's bad!"
"Oh, shut up you BEEP. You're such a BEEPING BEEP BEEP. BEEEEEEEEP."
And so they made love, which was not entirely consensual on both sides. However, Raoul was not particularly bothered.
It carried on this way for a while. Things got steadily worse – there are a number of things that may have happened. Further non-consensual love-making, verbal abuse, physical abuse, any other abuse, kitten abuse, more drinking and quite a bit of name-calling (which was just uncalled for).
Finally, Christine decided she had had enough.
"I'm not going to let you push me around anymore, Raoul!" She announced. "I have come to realise that you are not a very nice person. I am going to go and live somewhere else where kitten-abuse is not allowed and you can't get to me anymore!"
"Like BEEP you are!" Raoul said angrily. He then proceeded to beat her silly until she was left quite sore and with several nasty bruises and cuts (A/N: It's important that there are cuts, for reasons that will be explained. And it's also quite alright to have a broken wrist. As long as she can still walk.)
Once Raoul had finished with his rather unwholesome activities, Christine got to her feet, clutching at her various cuts and bruises. Without anyone noticing, she managed to get out of the house and wandered the streets, sobbing and regretting having forgotten to put on any shoes.
By pure magical coincidence she ended up in front of the Opera Populaire.
"Hmm, maybe my Angel will take care of me. I'm sure he's totally over me abandoning him." She mused. She sneaked in and found her way through the mirror, along several stone corridors and then reached a large lake. Without hesitating she jumped in, screamed at how cold it was and then remembered that she couldn't actually swim.
"Oh poo." She cried.
Erik looked up from his truly magnificent organ. He could have sworn that he'd heard Christine's angelic, delicate, delightful voice say the words 'oh poo'.
He sighed, shook his head and decided to lay off the morphine for a bit.
"Angel…" Christine's weak voice floated across the lair, hitting him in the back of the head. Erik swore, turned and leapt to his manly feet at the sight of Christine clinging pathetically to the gate.
He jumped into the water, his wet, white shirt clinging to his muscled chest. Christine collapsed into his arms and delicately coughed up half a lung of water. Erik didn't mind. It was Christine, after all.
With Christine barely conscious, he proceeded to dump her on his sofa and went to fetch bandages, salves and water. He began to tenderly clean her wounds, wiping the blood (from necessary cuts) away and binding her injuries.
"Who did this to you? Was it the Viscount?" Christine nodded and Erik clenched a fist.
"I shall kill him!"
"No, leave him. I am safe with you, my Angel." Christine said dreamily. When Raoul had beaten her, all memories of his murderous nature had vanished. Which was incredibly convenient for all involved.
And so Christine lived beneath the opera house with Erik. She even began to call him Erik, once he had told her his name. They were happy and smoochy and sparky and singy and a whole variety of other optimistic phrases. Until, one day, for no apparent reason, Raoul showed up.
"Christine, you BEEPING BEEP! How dare you BEEPING BEEP off like that! I swear, I'm gonna BEEP your BEEP until you BEEPING BEEPITY BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEP!" He announced in a chauvinistic manner. Erik drew a sword.
Raoul drew a gun.
"Oh, BEEP." Erik said. There was a shot and Christine screamed in a womanly fashion. But Erik, totally unharmed, dived at him.
"Die, Fop, Die!" He cried and ran Raoul through with a sword. "You shall never again abuse my beloved Christine or any innocent kittens!"
"I once saw him kick a puppy." Christine added. This drove Erik over the edge and he stepped Raoul again. Raoul staggered back, clutching at his wounds.
"No… NO! I'M TOO PRETTY TO DIE!"
Too late. He died.
Suddenly Erik collapsed from some random wound he had procured in the fight. Christine ran to his side and the chapter ended on a terrible cliff-hanger, not knowing if Erik would live or die.
The next chapter began and we quickly discover that Erik is alive and well. He and Christine are living in a perfectly charming house, perhaps by the sea. Needless to say they get married, have amazing love-making sessions (which are consensual on all sides) and have kids. Probably twins, neither of which shall be deformed. They also get a cat.