[VF fic] Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil
Also a Career Fest fic:
Title: Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil
Pairing/Characters: Feilong / Kuroda
Scenario: Feilong and Kuroda are rival antiquities dealers specializing in rare books, themselves collecting the rarest of the rare. They hear of a fabled copy of the Necronomicon coming up for sale in an underground auction, and each is determined to have it.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Feilong's arc in VF; Warnings: half serious, half crack, half insane (the halves overlap, silly)
Disclaimer: Yamane-sensei owns the human characters; Text excerpts noted in reference at the end.
Rating: PG-13
Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil
The air that night hung heavy and damp over the streets of Hong Kong, a fishy smell permeating the mist so strongly that even people who'd lived by the sea all their lives shuttered their windows and closed up shop. From the window of the small, exclusive bookshop, known as Baishe Books because of the painting of a small white snake over the door, a young salesman noted all the lights in the neighboring shops turning out.
"Master Feilong, everyone else is closing. Shouldn't we also? The books will start smelling like an old fish cart and no one will buy them."
He turned to see if there was any reaction to his words, but his master didn't even look up from the old volume he was perusing. Typical, for him to become lost in a book. They were beloved friends to him. Tao peered at the one currently occupying Feilong's attention, trying to use his training to figure out what it was from across the room: English, early 20th century, tan cloth binding -ah, the signed first edition of The Shadow over Innsmouth they'd just acquired from the estate sale in London. A creepy book. They could have bought the whole set of signed Winnie the Pooh first editions for the same amount. His mouth formed into a pout.
"I've heard mists like this can freeze a person's face. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life looking like the fish we're smelling?" Feilong glanced up at him, his face serene but his eyes twinkling. "Why, I'd imagine that even a silly old bear would run in the other direction if he saw such a thing. Have you finished inventorying the London purchases, Tao?"
Tao smoothed his face over, trying to emulate Feilong and failing. "No sir. I meant to. But the smell... "
Feilong waved him toward the back room. "I'm expecting a visitor shortly. We'll close as soon as he arrives."
Tao started to open his mouth again but Feilong simply raised an eyebrow, and he glumly walked into the back to do his duty.
Feilong picked up his lukewarm teacup and took a sip, grimacing. He glanced at the microwave, but turned up his nose. Never. That confounded grad student Mikhail had insisted upon buying one so he could eat instant noodle bowls there every day despite having a shop that made homemade just two doors down. But while Feilong had allowed it for his customers, he was damned if he'd make use of the thing. He turned back to his book with a soft sigh.
"For out of an opened door in the Gilman House a large crowd of doubtful shapes was pouring-lanterns bobbing in the darkness, and horrible croaking voices exchanging low cries in what was certainly not English. The figures moved uncertainly, and I realised to my relief that they did not know where I had gone; but for all that they sent a shiver of horror through my frame. Their features were indistinguishable, but their crouching, shambling gait was abominably repellent. And worst of all, I perceived that one figure was strangely robed, and unmistakably surmounted by a tall tiara of a design altogether too familiar. As the figures spread throughout the courtyard, I felt my fears increase. Suppose I could find no egress from this building on the street side? The fishy odour was detestable, and I wondered I could stand it without fainting."
Feilong's head involuntarily jerked back, nostrils twitching. Laughing a little at himself, he carefully noted the page and closed the book, setting it aside. Perhaps he should close shop now, expected visitor or not. After all, the person hadn't bothered adding his name to the mysterious request for a meeting.
The panes at the front of the store rattled slightly, startling him. The wind whistled a long low note as it blew down the narrow roadway his door faced. Something about it made him suddenly afraid, and he felt fear rarely enough that he knew to take heed when it arose. He quickly stepped forward and laid his hand on the lock, about to flip it into place, when the door burst inward causing him to jump back and out of the way. His years of martial arts training made him instinctively land in a defensive crouch, awaiting whatever might come through that door.
It was a tall figure, draped in a brown hooded cloak that left his face in shadow.
"Liu Feilong." A deep male voice came from within the folds of cloth. "I see you got my note. We have much to discuss and not much time."
"I got it. I found the lack of signature rude. Who are you?"
"One who has been both friend and enemy to you in other times and places. One who at this point in time loves and understands you, and sees you for what you are."
"And what exactly is that?" His words were clipped.
"Humanity's only hope."
Feilong blinked and slowly stood up, trying to figure out if this was a nut or merely someone wanting him to think he was a nut. In the meantime, the figure closed and locked the door, turned the sign on it to Closed, and pulled the shutter down.
"Presumptuous."
"Were you not going to do the same?" The person pulled the hood back, revealing...
"Kuroda!" The name burst out of him at the sight of his handsome rival. He tried not to think of the earlier words, which after all must have been some of Shinji's typical nonsense. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Hush. Dark forces are astir tonight. Give them no names they can use against us."
"Are you out of your mind? And why are you speaking like you're in a bad fantasy novel?"
"You have no sense of drama, Feilong. I was trying to stress how deadly serious the situation is."
"What situation? I know of no 'situation' that warrants you appearing in my shop spouting rubbish."
"Would you at least offer me some tea? That fish smell has permeated my nose to the point where I can't even smell the books in this room. It's... disconcerting."
Feilong bit back his retort. That would indeed be intolerable. No one deserved that. "Wait here. I'll make some. And no tucking away valuable volumes! If you're capable of recognizing them," he added a little snottily as he walked back to the where the teapot was. He always raises my... he blushed, my ire, he finished lamely to himself.
As he began assembling what he needed, his mind drifted back to the first time they'd met, in that auction house in Austria. They'd both been going after an unattributed manuscript, but Feilong had believed it to be by Agrippa himself. He didn't believe in that alchemy nonsense, but what a beautiful expression of the human mind. And when someone had unexpectedly bid against him he'd turned his head in surprise to see a striking young Japanese man staring at him from across the aisle. From the gleam in his eyes, he'd known they were seeing the same thing. After that, it seemed like they were always turning up at the same places...
He felt eyes on his back. He always did when Kuroda was around. It was like he'd never seen a Chinese man in traditional clothing. Either that or he was searching for weaknesses he could exploit. He started a conversation just to distract them both.
"What's all this nonsense about an emergency that was in your note? What in our line of business could ever be considered an emergency? Is the ink suddenly disappearing from books everywhere?"
"It's almost as bad as that." Kuroda's low voice came from directly behind him. He flinched, spilling loose tea across the counter. "Allow me."
Kuroda's arms came from behind, surrounding him, scooping the tea up, placing it into the warmed pot, unaware that he was warming Feilong in turn. "You brought out the good tea for me." His tone was almost playful. "Should I feel special?"
As if he means it.... Feilong shoved an encircling arm aside. "Of course not. You're just lucky that I'm out of Lipton." He stalked to the table, annoyed at the chuckle he heard in back of him, more annoyed at the way it stirred his groin. "Describe this 'danger'. You haven't said anything that's convinced me that you're not hallucinating."
He saw the smile disappear from Kuroda's face. "It's no joke, Feilong. It's appeared. And it's calling to everything evil in this world, telling it to arise and worship at the altar of the Old Ones."
Feilong involuntarily glanced at the book he'd been reading. Kuroda's eyes followed and narrowed. "What is that you have there? Lovecraft! Why did you pick that particular book up? It's not your typical interest. You see? They're calling to you too!"
"I got it at a good price..." He weakly defended his purchase, but when he cast his mind back the memory was in shadow. Why had he bought it? "I... " He couldn't recall!
Irritated and not a little nervous at his poor memory, he snapped, "What difference does it make? It's only a novel."
Kuroda moved several steps closer, too close, placing himself between Feilong and the table. As if a book could be a danger.
"That one, yes. But it's all part of the greater mythos, a mythos mankind is about to find out is true. Do you think the smell in the air is a coincidence? The shoggoths are arising, Feilong. Have you not read The Mountains of Madness? "It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train-a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor-"
"They kill penguins?" Feilong choked out, aghast.
"They snack on penguins. They kill everything. They are chaos from the deepest parts of space. And they are only the merest slaves of Cthulhu."
"Kuroda. Shinji..." The other sucked in his breath at Feilong's daring use of his name. "You can't possibly believe this. The next thing you'll be saying is that the Necronomicon has been found."
"Don't speak its name! Because it has, and if He gets his hands on it..."
"He? What He? You don't mean... Asami?" The horror in Feilong's voice spoke volumes. Asami was a wealthy bookseller from Japan who... Feilong could barely let himself think of it... didn't love books. He only saw them as a commodity. And then turned the ones he couldn't sell into confetti and mulch. If there was an evil personified.... Feilong shuddered.
"Exactly. Can you imagine him with the Book of Pure Evil in his hands?"
Feilong thought about it. That Tome of Horror might be the first book Asami would ever love, and honestly had to admit that seeing him with that glow in his eyes for a book, even this one, might be kind of hot.
"Feilong! We have to find it and keep it from him at all costs! And my horoscope said that you were the key. That the book would be found by you, and that only you could destroy it."
A sound came from the back rooms of the shop. Where Tao was working. "Master Feilong? Has your visitor arrived? You should have let me know so I could have prepared something."
Tao appeared in the door.
Or, something that looked like Tao did. Because his eyes were glowing with a sickly greenish hue and something slick and wormy writhed in the darkness behind him.
Feilong and Kuroda slowly backed away. "Tao, what have you done?"
"Why, only the inventory as you asked. I came across the strangest book there. It actually talked to me. And when it did, everything seemed so clear." Tao's focus shifted to the man at his side. "Kuroda. Trying to get into Master Fei's pants again, eh? Haven't you figured out that you Just. Don't. Belong there?"
A tentacle slithered out from behind Tao's head, a pustule at the end swelling until it burst, coating Kuroda in a slime that smelled like regurgitated tuna salad. In an instant, Kuroda was gone, a penguin with a confused look in his place.
"Squawk?" The penguin's eyes widened behind Kuroda's old glasses. "Squawk squawk squaaaawk!"
There was a noise outside the shop, as if a great weight pushed against the side of the building and slithered along it. Feilong looked down in horror at what appeared to be Shoggoth Snack.
"Squaaawk!" the penguin wailed, and quickly burrowed under the hem of Feilong's cheongsam.
This.... this cannot be happening. Yet it was. Tao was possessed by a god from the depths of chaos. Kuroda was a penguin shivering under his skirt. Asami was trying to get his hands on the Book of Pure Evil. And a shoggoth seemed to be defacing the front of his shop.
Feilong was nothing if not practical, and he had had enough.
"Right. Okay then. It's up to me. Tao, GIVE ME THAT BOOK THIS INSTANT."
For a second, his old Tao appeared, big brown eyes wide, shocked by a tone of voice he rarely heard from his beloved master. His arms automatically shot forward, the old book in his hands. Feilong snatched it from him, electric currents travelling up his arms from it, the pain indescribable except that it was so great it verged on pleasure. His vision doubled, then trebled, and it felt like his mind slid sideways into spaces with shapes that couldn't possibly exist. The book flew open, the pages flipping madly, and at the center of a picture of a vortex into hell, a hole opened. And in he fell.
Something tugged him forward, past claws the size of stars and maelstroms that could swallow galaxies. He held his breath as long as possible, but as his consciousness faded and he opened his mouth with a gasp, he found he could breathe normally. There was a scrabbling at his ankle and he looked down to kick whatever it was away, and found Kuroda there. Or someone that looked like Kuroda, no longer a penguin but unlike Feilong had ever seen him, and his heart thudded at the sight. He wore a chain-link suit of armor that shone with an inner light. But instead of a sword he carried an old-fashioned set of scales in his hand, one that glowed so bright that it lit their way like a beacon.
And as they fell the monsters to all sides pulled back as if the light burned their eyes, and the storms parted, as if whatever powered them could only do so in the dark. Deeper they went into that darkness, chaos on all sides, stars collapsing, planets exploding, civilizations failing, until they finally came to a dark, flat plain that they could stand upon, though it felt like a heavy liquid sea under their feet. Their light was the only that could be seen on that broad emptiness. He had never felt so insignificant. Feilong fumbled about for Kuroda's free hand, and when he found it the scales glowed a little brighter.
Dark shapes flitted in swarms above their heads, every so often dropping toward them with an alarming suddenness. Yet they didn't attack. It was as if they were waiting for something to happen. So they too waited, knowing it eventually would.
As the ground shifted beneath them, their grip on each other tightened. Feilong glanced at the face of the man beside him, stern under his opened helm. His chin was up defiantly and he glared at the darkness as if its mere existence offended him. If ever he was glad to have someone at his side, it was now. And, he realized, he was glad it was this man. He had the feeling that what he saw down here, lit by this light, was in some way truth.
He'd always known Kuroda cared about books the way someone should, which to be honest was more than most booksellers. But he hadn't realized that this caring extended to all that was right and good. After working in the cutthroat world of high-end antiques, Feilong had come to believe no one should be trusted. But seeing Kuroda here... He was starting to think he really was what he seemed and more. A true knight at heart, a defender of justice...
"Shinji..."
Kuroda turned his head slightly, looking from the corner of his eyes, the fierceness in them giving way to something softer yet just as strong. "Feilong... I knew you'd be this beautiful inside as out."
"And you..." Feilong squeezed the hand he held tighter, and got an answering squeeze in return. There was never a question that he would fight with all he had as a matter of pride. Now, he would do it for something more. He straightened his spine, waiting for what was to come.
When it did, it was a heavy immense thing, a foul thing, dragging across the plain, a filthy miasma in its wake.
They stood there, tiny, two humans, in front of it. Kuroda raised his scales higher, and Feilong lifted his voice in command. "You shall not pass!"
Kuroda glanced at him, his eyebrows drawing together.
Feilong shrugged. In times of doubt, stick with the classics.
It hadn't even noticed them before he'd spoken, Feilong realized. Because when it did notice, bringing its billions of eyes to bear upon him, pain hit him in a great wave, consuming him. Visions appeared in the mists, flitting past him, things that made no sense, shadows of memories that had never happened ...
...He saw himself as a child attending his mother's funeral, weeping hysterically at her loss, though that couldn't be right because he had visited her only last week. He knew her to be alive, yet the pain of the loss hit him as if it were his own; his mother, his closest friend, torn from him...
...A young man he recognized as Liu Yantsui before he became a dissolute drug lord, raping a terrorized younger version of himself outside one of the mansions above Hong Kong; greedy fingers clawed at his skin...
...An old man, Liu's father, bloodied and dying in his arms, his tears scalding the silk the man wore; blood of a beloved on his hands...
...Toh, his son-of-a-dog father, still alive and raising a gun to shoot him, that asshole Asami between them, a look of horror and outrage on his face; the shock of betrayal by one he was coming to love...?
...A young man he didn't know, brown eyes full of fire and tears, bound and struggling under his double as he began raping him; a cruel act of jealousy and rage ripping his humanity and this boy apart...
He doubled over from the force of the foul emotions that coursed through him. More visions joined the swarm about him, dizzying him, this time his friends...
...Mikhail, eyes so fierce and blue they couldn't possibly be real, a lash coming down on his shoulders, scarring forming so deep inside that emotions could never again get past them...
...A serious man about his age, head bowed, lonely in a barren room, his eyes haunted....
...Tao, his beloved Tao, staring at him with something in his eyes that he'd never wanted to see....
...Kuroda in a courtroom, still trying to fight evil but seduced by Asami's words and despising himself for it....
No....
They all hammered at his walls, their grief, their fear, their hurt, their hopelessness. So many of them, so many in pain...
His own heart was too open. Tendrils from the visions brushed against him, his hair, his arms, letting bits of them through, of all of them. Tastes of their grief-filled lives.
He knew them all and screamed the agony they'd been feeling, the love in his heart overwhelmingly wanting to help them.
Then an odd thing happened.
They all stopped, and turned, and looked.
At him.
They. Not visions, but versions. Real living versions of the people he cared for. Other universes with timelines that were off from this one, and in all of them he was wracked with pain. They stopped, their eyes going wide, and reached for him, thousands of Feilongs and Kurodas and Taos, all of them hurting; they reached out, trying to grasp a piece of him. And he wanted to help, he really did, but there were so many and so little of himself, and -
"Feilong." The voice next to him was strong and deep and gentle and he wanted to rest his head in the lap of the man who said his name that way. And he looked over to meet eyes watching him with love and pride. "You were made for this. We can do this together."
There was a strain around Kuroda's eyes, as if he too had been witnessing something like what Feilong had. His hand shook a little as it held the scales, but he refused to let them slip. Feilong never forgot how he stood there in that moment, because that was the moment he truly fell in love with this man who would persevere, for the world's sake, and for Feilong's. He reached out and brought the instrument into their joined hands, and together they lifted it up. It held firm and shone like the sun on a summer morning.
They stood in front of this so-called god, Kuroda as beautiful and good as he'd ever known a man to be, this thing bringing pain to them and millions of his brothers and friends, and for what reason? Boredom? A lesson?
Feilong got pissed. He couldn't help it. He'd always had a temper, and he spoke to this thing, his voice ringing with fury. "You think we don't know pain? It's our lot in life to know not only our own, but that of every being on our planet. Our pain is written in every book in our libraries, and when we read them we each take it as our own. We've already lived these hells through the words of others; it's nothing new. And we understand it and share it and are better for it. That's what it means to be human. That's what we give each other."
The beast in front of him roared without sound, galaxies quenching from the fury of it.
But he knew that it wasn't indifferent to them any longer. He sensed fear.
"Perhaps if we were alone you might defeat one of us. And that's no doubt how you've gained some small foothold here. You and your slaves. But you won't just be facing one, and you're starting to realize that and be scared by it, aren't you? Because you know that when it comes down to the end, you're the one that will be alone, without friends, without others who understand you, abandoned by your minions. It will only be you coming against all of us, because when we stand, we stand together. And when we stand together, you are nothing against us."
And he knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do. He raised his right hand, stretching it out to the souls floating around him. "You're all a part of me anyway. You can find a home here." And he opened his heart to them. "It's large enough for all of you."
The windows to those other worlds wavered and began circling above his head, whirling slowly as those within watched him.
"Come," he shouted. "I'm not afraid of you!" And he met the eyes of all the other Feilongs and all his friends as they flew about him, hope rising in their eyes for the first time, looking past their own existence to reach out to those beside them, linking one universe to the next. Joined, they spun faster- he could feel the wind of it, pushing him into a small space of calm at the center, he and Kuroda in the eye of a cyclone. The faces became a wall, growing, reaching higher, taller than Feilong's eyes could see. A sound grew-at first he thought it was the roar of the winds, but when he caught glimpses of their faces they were all shouting.
Anger, excitement, encouragement, they were all trying to reach one another to let them all know that here was another, as each realized that he was not alone, that together they had power. The winds formed a tunnel now, a tornado of souls driven by their exhilaration, the speed making it impossible to see individuals any longer. They were bound into one. The walls stretched ever higher, narrowing at the top, the base lifting from the ground, letting them again see what was around them.
"Feilong!" Kuroda shouted into his ear, pointing. The beast's tentacles were writhing against the background of black. Feilong couldn't tell what it was doing at first, but then horror took him as he saw the fabric of reality itself rip, and an eye larger than the monster before them looked through at him.
"No! I won't let you!" he yelled.
The twister above grew tighter and formed a point on the end. It began to tip forward.
"You won't have to. Your heart has shown us the way."
He realized what they meant to do. "You can't! You'll die!"
And they started laughing. "No brother, I/we/you surely won't, for you hold us in your heart." For a moment it seemed time paused around them as they fell as one, a spear pointing at their target. Then a great cry was heard as the beasts around them understood their purpose but it was too late. Like an arrow shot from a giant bow, they swiftly flew toward the beast, aim sure and true.
With a shout Kuroda hurled the scales of justice into the heart of the living spear and it burned hot and bright as it plunged through the center of the beast-god and into the eye of the watcher. They felt the pounding force of a deafening cry as the eye went dark and the tear in the universe snapped shut, as if whatever it was that peeked through decided it wanted nothing to do with them. The great monster itself disintegrated, whatever evil that held it together dissolved by their shared hopes and pains, far more deadly to the unfeeling thing than any weapon of steel could have been.
The weapon too dissociated, into floating particles of gold that flocked over the plains in joyous flight, burning all presence of that evil thing from the plains, then going after the ones in the skies.
Feilong found himself lifted in arms of light, flying backwards too fast, his vision narrowing as if his blood were compressing from great speeds. He sped upward toward a narrow aperture that grew until it seemed just large enough to let him through, and then he was. He slammed against a bookshelf on the far side of his store, which didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would because Kuroda was still holding on to him as if he'd never let go. Feilong quickly slipped from his grip, books tumbling around them; his work wasn't done.
The writhing shape behind Tao was screeching, and Feilong dove forward, pulling the boy into his arms even as the tentacles tried to drag him into the book. Their feet slipped forward as they scrabbled across the wooden floor and he balanced on the precipice. There was no way he was going back in there. But he was tired and he was having trouble balancing and Tao was trying to get loose, and then suddenly he was there, arms like steel around him, anchoring him to the here and now. He kicked downward with all his might into the face of evil and then they were free.
The book snapped shut with one final angry cry and disappeared.
They lay there, Kuroda holding Feilong holding Tao, all three of them trembling in silence, until Tao started wailing, "Oh Master Feilong! I'm so sorry! I was going to poke you with a tentacle."
Kuroda's shaking turned into laughter, and Feilong couldn't help joining in, as much from hysteria as anything.
Tao wiggled around until he was looking over Feilong's shoulder. "Why are you laughing, you big penguin! I'm not sorry I did that!"
Feilong laughed harder and glanced back. "I think we have a can of herring..."
"My little Gandalf..." Kuroda teased.
"You're the one who wanted drama earlier...."
"It was perfect. You were perfect."
He rolled onto his back and looked up at Kuroda, now seeing far more than he'd ever let himself see in the past, and he lifted his head to plant a firm kiss on a pair of smiling lips that he'd always found rather entrancing, truth be told. Plus the glasses were kind of cute.
And he liked the blush that was rising in those cheeks, though he felt the need to hide his own. He hopped to his feet and held both of his hands down. "All right you two. We have some evil to sweep up in here. Let's get to it before it attracts Asami. I've had enough evil beasts for one day."
Tao stood, sniffling. "If you had bought Pooh instead..."
"You, my lazy little assistant, evidently didn't get to the bottom of the box. Such a terrible job inventorying. Perhaps I should return them..."
"What? You bought them? Really?"
"Perhaps."
Tao edged toward the back of the store in a hurry. Feilong's gentle voice stopped him.
"Tao..."
"Yes, Master Feilong?"
"If you see any other books bound in human skin, just... come to me first."
Tao shuddered. "Don't worry Master Feilong. I'm not going to listen to any more promises about Tao the Great and Terrible." With a sly grin, he disappeared into the back.
"...How could he possibly ever be Great and Terrible....?"
"It seems to me he's already working on it." Kuroda was slowly getting back to his feet, his eyes not meeting Feilong's. "I should probably head back to Tokyo..."
Feilong turned toward him in surprise. "No, you really shouldn't."
Kuroda was staring at him, his face serious. "I saw things inside myself today... You have so much love in your heart, you were able to accept everything you saw there. But for me... There are things I need to come to terms with, Feilong. "
"And you think you can only do that alone. Did you miss what happened there?"
"Of course not. It's just... you... you didn't see yourself the way I did. You were shining so brightly..."
Feilong stepped forward until he was pressed against a very solid and warm chest. "We saw each other a little more deeply than we're used to. I'm not sure what it meant. Perhaps it's only how I truly see you, but to me you were wearing shining armor, my dear. Corny, but I suppose that's what I get for reading fantasy novels."
"You don't need a knight. You're strong enough on your own."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But in that pit, I couldn't have done without you, nor you without me. And don't you think that's something that we should explore together?"
Kuroda looked at him for a long minute, Feilong watching the emotions warring in his eyes, and he sighed. "Enough of this." He grabbed Kuroda's ears and pulled him forward into a kiss that was meant to melt his socks off. Then he released him, their lips sticking a little, and he peered into Kuroda's glasses. They were a little fogged but, "Still thinking, I see."
This time Feilong kissed him slowly, nibbling at his lips until they surrendered and opened, inviting him in, sharing, adding to whatever it was they'd already managed to create in the abyss. This time when they parted, Kuroda didn't want to let go, and his eyes were soft and warm and hungry.
"I think I see your point."
"You always were a quick study."
"Feilong... when it showed us those things..." Fingers on his lips stopped him.
"Let's talk about that another time. Tonight is for celebrating."
"And cleaning!" They heard from a stern voice below and to the side. "If I can't read Pooh now, then you can't do.... " Tao made a duck face and wiggled his body. He handed a mop and a wrench to Kuroda. "The pipe under the sink broke."
Feilong pursed his lips so laughter wouldn't escape. "And what are my duties, oh great and terrible master?"
"You," a stern eye was turned upon him, one that softened. "You should pick up your beloved books and place them back where they belong."
"I think I can manage that."
Kuroda bowed slightly, flourishing the mop and wrench like they were sword and shield. "At your service, Your Terribleness. And I mean that exactly as you think I do." And adjourned to the kitchen nook.
Tao turned up his nose and casually walked toward the back again, poking his head into the nook, saying only, "Squawk." And he ran into the back calling out, "Squawk, squawk, squaaawk," in a sing-song voice.
"Brat!" Feilong heard, slightly muffled.
He snorted softly, then bent to his task, only pausing once when he came across a beloved volume by Dickens, thinking of the sacrifice within it.
Down there, in the abyss, right as the last sounds fell to silence, he'd heard a chorus of joyous whispers that faded on the wind...
"Did you see? He was happy...."
Tears fell onto the hard wood floor for all of them, that this should be so foreign an idea to them. That they would remain in that darkness to preserve this rare happy version of themselves.
Then he remembered that he still carried pieces of all of them in his heart.
I will show you. I will show you all what it means to be happy, and to love and be loved. And you will never wonder at it again.
He patted the cover of the book lovingly. They'll have the chance, my friend, that you did not. He placed the book onto the shelf beside his brothers, and bent to retrieve the next.
He didn't even notice the clean breeze blowing down the street outside, carrying the last remnants of anything dark and evil out to sea where they were cast upon currents that dispersed them to places so far flung that they never again gathered to bother another soul.
~end~
The fan art for this prompt:
Beautful picture by mtarashidango
Artist Note: The books in the background came from Favim.com, and the texture on Feilong cheongsam is from Shutterstock.com (John Lock).
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References and Notes
Since my beta read this and said "I'm not familiar with what you were referencing so I have to admit I was kinda (o_O;)... Also, what the fuck were you smoking when writing this?", some notes:
There are two pieces of text taken from the writings of H.P. Lovecraft, a writer of the early 20th c, who wrote horror centered on the idea that we are incapable of understanding this universe, and all we'll be able to do is stare in horror as it relentlessly grinds us down to nothing. Yay.
The first piece of text is from The Shadow over Innsmouth, and the second is from At the Mountains of Madness (One of two books that have ever actually made me scream in terror. Seriously).
These aren't modern horror with gore and shocks. This is old-fashioned horror that slowly builds upon an atmosphere of strangeness and incomprehensible weirdness until it hits a peak at the end of the story where, if you're like me, you scream and run out into the sunlight. Lovecraft is about the language of horror, about making you uncomfortable with words until you're squirming in your chair. He also built an entire mythos of alien ... things wanting to consume us that later writers built into a universe. This mythos inspired some of the first fan fiction that I think existed, because so many authors wanted to play in it.
The Necronomicon is a mythical book that is a part of this universe. It and its parent mythos are referenced in a lot of pulp culture, including the TV series whose name I stole for the name of this fic, Todd and the Book of Pure Evil.
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The book referenced at the end of the story I'll leave for you to guess. Everyone who guesses right gets a free bag of Shoggoth Snacks, Penguin-flavored of course. :)
If you made it all the way through this, you're one more person than I thought would. XDD Thanks for reading!
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Title(s): Be Careful What you Wish For; Tut Tut It Looks Like Feilong; A Tale of Two Asamis; The Lord of That Ring; The Wizard of CS
Pairing/Characters: Asami x Aki, Feilong x Kuroda, Havi x Vald, Feilong x others
A/N: While I was writing Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil, I kept stopping and writing little omake kinds of things mixing VF and the books I was referencing. Most are the product of an exhausted mind, i.e. utter crack. The first one, the Lovecraft one, is more on the Twilight Zone side. The Pooh, crack. The Dickens... I just don't know, Reader's Digest Condensed Crack. The Tolkien, CRAAAACK. The Baum, hair of the dog epilogue crack. I hope at least one amuses you. :)
Be Careful What You Wish For...
Or, what might have happened had Feilong lost...
Dark waves washed against the shore, oily and heavy, rolling up onto the sand before sliding back into the ocean, leaving a slick film where they'd been. A gentle breeze blew along the beach ruffling his tentacles, setting them swaying like fronds of a palm tree.
One of his feelers reached down into the bucket beside him, grasping some wriggling creature he didn't know the name of, but which was certainly in season judging by the delightful crunch and juicy squirt it made when he popped it into one of his mouths.
"Master Feilong, isn't the view beautiful?" At least, that's what he tried to say. The words came out in another language now, one that made his beloved master shudder in his chains.
"What have you done with my Tao, you... thing!? I'll kill you when I get free."
But I am your Tao... he reached out with a slick tentacle to gently brush the silky black strands of hair, so like his lovely appendages.
Until that dratted pet of his master's jumped between them and started squawking at him. Who would keep a snack for a pet? But he was always one to indulge his master, even when his master glared at him with hate-filled eyes and protectively hugged that damned penguin. In time Feilong would change and accept him, when he saw how great and magnificent the world was now with Tao in charge.
He placed a feeler into another bucket and began sucking up the delightfully bloody blend of pureed Australians until his thirst was eased. The snacks had been delicious, but rather salty. With a last wistful look at Master Feilong, he let the breeze lull him into sleep. Several of his mouths smiled and drooled a little. It was only a matter of time.
Tut Tut, It Looks Like Feilong
"Oh bother," said chibi Feilong, a frown on his face. "I have hunny in my hair. " He promptly stuck the ends into his mouth and began sucking on them.
"Oh d-d-dear! You shouldn't do that, Master Fei! Yoh! What should we do?"
"There's nothing to be done, Tao." Yoh said gloomily. "Always thought hunny was a bit over-rated myself."
"Over-rated, schmover-rated!" Mikhail bounced into the room. "Anything with Feilong in it is automatically smackalicious! Hoohooooo!"
"Hullo, Arbatov." That was from Feilong, only it came out more like 'Huvvooahvfof'.
"Huvvooahvfof to you too! Is that French?"
"No," said Yoh with a frown. "It's not even funny."
Feilong stuck his finger into his mouth along with the hair and hunny and had an Idea. Obviously the best thing to get the hunny out of his hair was to put his hair into the hunny and he turned upside down and stuck his head in the pot, showing his bare butt to the entire room.
Mikhail sprang with such a spring that his ears stuck in the ceiling, his eyes wide like saucers and his tail whirling like a gyro. Tao's stuttering propelled him hopping on one leg across the room to knock into the China cabinet, causing the door to Hong Kong to briefly open then snap shut as if embarrassed by being caught with its drawers open. Yoh smiled and his tail immediately stuck straight up into the air and fell off.
The next morning, no one in the Hundred Acre Wood was able to adequately agree upon the tale they told Christopher Robin. But one thing they all did agree upon was that Yesterday would henceforth be known as The Best Day Ever.
A Tale of Two Asamis
He sat with his back to the cold stone wall, listening to the roar of the crowds outside. Who would be called today? Who would face the guillotine? And more importantly, how would they face it?
He didn't want to die. He was only 28, and had just recently found his true love, Kuroda Pinkleweather, a merchant of books who had escaped The Terror thus far by printing pamphets supporting The Common Man. But that hadn't stopped the soldiers from arresting him, Liu Feilong, reputed to be a Prince of Hong Kong. How does one explain that they are at most the head of a crime family? Criminals were brought to death as well, unless they were well-heeled, and these days he was not.
A commotion at the door interrupted his thoughts. Several more prisoners were shoved in, followed by a pair of priests to hear confessions. They at least allowed the poor fools around him that. But he had no God and would find no solace in religion.
Still, a priest approached and knelt by him "Pray with me, my son." He had an odd accent.
"Thank you Father, but I am Buddhist. Your God won't hear me."
"He might not, Feilong, but I will if you beg nicely." A hand far too elegant for a priest pushed the hood back slightly, revealing a face that was never far from his thoughts. "Asami!" A hand slapped over his mouth.
"My son," Asami said loudly, "That is a word that shouldn't pass Christian lips!"
Feilong stilled and the hand was cautiously lifted. "That is one thing upon which we agree. What are you doing here? Come to gloat?"
"Come to free you, but if you want to be an asshole I'll be happy to let you stay."
"I don’t believe you. Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because I care for Kuroda and his happiness, and unfortunately that means you." Asami was rummaging under his robes, trying to hide his face.
Feilong stared, then reached out to grab his arm. "You mean that."
"Of course I mean that. Now put these on. You're going out in my place."
"What? I can't do that? What about you? They'd never mistake us!"
Asami pulled him forward. "They will. You're about to have your locks shorn." He grabbed Feilong's hair in a bundle and sliced it all off with a sharpened Asian blade, quality steel. The hair fell into Asami's hands. "You could have made a lot of money selling this silk."
"You... you..."
"Yes, me. It's high time you put your father to rest. Consider this a gift. Now get that robe on while the guards aren't looking." The scratchy brown wool was dumped on his head, and he reluctantly dragged it on.
A voice called from the other side of the room. "Father William, are you ready to go? We have other flocks to tend." He recognized Yoh.
"Go," said Asami.
"I can't!"
"Now, before I change my mind! For Kuroda."
Feilong remembered the stricken face of his lover, and knew that Asami had played the only card that would have worked. "We'll get you out. We will."
Asami shrugged out of his vestments. He was wearing a cheongsam akin to Feilong's, and a wig of long black hair. Feilong would have burst into laughter if he hadn't looked so hot.
"Brother William, now!"
"Go," Asami growled.
Feilong sped out of the room to freedom, not looking back.
~~
He and Kuroda had left France for England that night. Yoh assured him that he was doing everything that could be done, and not to waste Asami's sacrifice.
Two days later, they heard Feilong's name had been called that day, and that the Chinese 'prince' had had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the guillotine. He screamed in foreign words but couldn't be understood. A heathen, the mob agreed. You can't understand them foreign folks, they said.
Feilong stood on a bridge overlooking the Themes and cried on Kuroda's shoulder. "Oh Asami. It is a far, far better thing that you did, than you have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that you go to, than you have ever known."
"It was one of my better moments, I'll give you that."
Feilong spun around to see Asami, minus long hair, standing with his arm around a young Japanese man.
"But how? Who? What happened?"
"I found someone who looked like you, whom I thought deserved to die more than I."
"You egotistical criminal! You would think anyone deserved to die more than you." The young man spoke Japanese with a French accent and he had a mouth on him.
"Of course. And so do you, sweet Akihito. Admit it."
"I admit nothing." Akihito turned his nose up and glared out of the corner of his eye. But he remained within Asami's grasp.
"Tell me!" Feilong interrupted. He needed to know who had taken his name.
"Your brother, of course. He was the one who had turned you in, because he was jealous of you two. I sent a message saying you wanted to see him one last time before you died, to confess to him. The fool came. I drugged him, stuck your old hair in his mouth and wrapped a silk scarf around his head. Told the guards he had the ague, that they shouldn't let him breathe on them. I glued the wig on his head and tied his hands and left him. I hear he died like a dog, trying to spit your hair out and talk. I'd say I'm sorry about your reputation, but after being named a coward you won't get any business in Hong Kong. Your shipping lines are now as good as mine. Consider the courageous act that saved your life repaid."
He turned to Akihito, letting his hands slip lower. "And that's more than I've spoken in a month. Time for us to go." He squeezed. Akihito's eyes glazed over. "Say it, you know you want to: "Please sir, I want some more.'"
The fire came back into the young man's eyes. "Never." He shoved away. Asami picked him up and carried him princess style down the bridge, Akihito wriggling but never quite escaping. Neither looked back.
"And here I thought he was a hero for once."
"He did save you, Feilong. He could have died."
"I suppose so. But instead Yan did. Am I a bad person, Kuroda? I only feel relief."
"Of course you're not. I wouldn't love a bad person. Your brother tried to kill you, and his ill wishes were returned threefold. It was not you that brought him to his death. He should never have fought with Asami. Any fool knows that."
"He always did want to be him. Why do you think he did it, Kuroda? Asami, I mean."
Kuroda was silent for a moment. "He has more good in him than people realize. But he doesn't get a chance to let it out often. Maybe this was just a way for him to release it all at once."
"Hmm. Then I pity the boy."
"Don't. The boy already has him wound around his finger. I've never seen him like that. It is good to see him happy."
"Wait. I just realized... You wouldn't love a bad person? You love me? That's the first time you've ever said it!" Feilong turned in Kuroda's arms and kissed him, right there in public.
Kuroda tightened his grip and murmured, "Please sir, I want some more."
Smiling shyly, Feilong took his lover's hand and tugged him toward home.
They returned to their flat in Mayfair, nothing too fancy, but well enough that they'd be considered gentlemen, if foreign and eccentric. I have no specific knowledge of their futures past that, but I am certain that they were loving companions long into their old age, until together they passed into a far better world.
Lord of That Ring
"No, I'm not carrying it one step further."
"But Akihito, you said you always wanted to travel like your father." Feigolas swept his hair back dramatically. "You'll walk the entire length of Middle Earth!"
"You know what will happen. He'll be waiting with those limo-riding ring wraiths, catch me, and shove that ring up-"
"Actually Master Hobbit, I know gold," Yohgli offered. "It's more sized to fit around your -"
"Why are you arguing?" Boromik jumped to his feet. "It's obvious what should be done with it. You need men to wield it, good Russian men. Look at these muscles!"
"Stop stripping! Why are you always stripping around me?"
"Because you're always noticing?"
Akihito jumped to his feet. "Where's Yamane? Isn't the head elf supposed to be here? And that wizard from her other series? Why can't they do it?"
Thunder cracked and lighting flashed and a striking dark-haired man in a long cloak appeared in the center of the room. He looked around, confused. "This isn't Asgard...." He disappeared.
There was an unearthly shriek outside the entrance and a moment later another tall dark-haired man, this one in a rather stylish black cashmere coat, strode into the room. He glared back over his shoulder. "Suoh, get the air checked in those tires. I've had it with that shrieking."
Smoked poured from his mouth along with the words. Everyone shrank back in horror. Feigolas bravely raised his arm, his hand shaking, and pointed at the wall. "That sign says No Smoking. Please cease that display immediately."
"Oh certainly. I may be the Dark Lord of Mordor, but if there's one thing I respect it's a good No Smoking sign."
"Really?"
"No not really. It seems that sarcasm detection isn't an elven talent. Humorless prigs. Is it any wonder I prefer the little wriggly ones? Where is he, anyway?" He snapped his fingers and a warm cookie appeared in his hand, dark chocolate and melty caramel and roasted nuts, the sweet decadent odor wafting across the floor.
Yohgli gasped. "But you're supposed to be Evil! How could you create such an enticing thing?"
The Dark Lord smirked. "You should see Gollum after he ate some of these. He's plugging the hole to Mount Doom now. No one will ever get in." He reached down and plucked an encroaching Akihito off the floor and fed him a few crumbs, then took a step back and held out a few more. Akihito glanced around sheepishly and followed. They kept this up, heading for the door.
The ring lay untouched upon the table where Akihito had left it.
"But wait, what about the r-"
All the council members took their hats off and pelted Kou, the Stupid Hobbit.
Asami picked up Akihito and tossed him up onto his shoulder. "You think that's my ring of power?" He patted Akihito's ass. They all looked at him blankly.
He sighed.
"Of course. What was I thinking? Give me the ring. Oh. Oh my." He stepped toward the limo door, continuing to speak in a bored monotone. "Your good thoughts and pleasant natures are too strong for me to bear. No, stop, please. Take the sign down. It makes me want to stop smoking." He threw Akihito into the back seat and jumped in, slamming the door. "Except I'm too smokin' hot! Later, suckers!" The tires shrieked and they heard Asami swearing at Suoh as the car zoomed out of Rivendell.
The others gathered around the table and stared at the ring.
Boromik poked it with a finger. "What ring did he mean then?"
"Akihito must have had it hidden in his pants."
"His pants didn't have any pockets."
They stood around and stared some more.
Elrond and Gandalf, watching from their balcony above, just shook their heads and went back to bed.
Cut to:
Mordor, the Tower Penthouse
Asami lay on the bed in a drug-like haze, his hands reaching out. "My precious, my precious..."
Akihito stood by the window, a phone to his ear. "They have no clue. He may occasionally get to use the ring, but who the heck do they think holds the power?"
"Yeah, and you even put in that joke about the Crack of Doom." He listened. "I know, right? You'd think there was no such thing as being gay in Middle Earth, when I know for a fact at least half the elves-" He listened a second more, then noticed Asami trying to get out of bed. "Hey, I'll catch you in the December issue. Papa needs a hit from the tail pipe." He hung up and caught Asami.
"Hey there, big guy, snap out of it." Asami looked at him blankly. "Fine, we'll do it your way."
"Like hell you're getting my ass," he shouted, hands behind him protectively. He ran toward the bed and "accidently" fell on it, landing with his hands over his head. He wiggled "trying to get away" and his pants slid down, baring his ass.
Asami sauntered over to the bed, picking up some elven rope (you can't beat it for knots that hold). "I love when you pretend to fight."
I know you do, sweetie, Akihito thought fondly. "Turn off the lights, would you? There's nothing that turns me on like that glowing red eye of yours."
One ring to rule them all
One ring to find them.
One ring to bring them all
And in the darkness bind them.
The Wizard of CS
Vald looked up from where he'd laid his head, exhausted from having ridden Havi to completion in the audience room of the castle in the Emerald City. "What are you thinking, Oh Great and Terrible Wizard? If only I had a heart? A brain? The noive?"
Havi ruffled his hair and laughed lovingly. "No, my little flying monkey, I was just thanking the gods that I'm not in that VF universe. Some of those fan fic writers will do anything for a laugh."
Havi promptly turned into a penguin and spent the rest of the evening being chased through the streets of Oz by his monkey-demon lover. But that's a Shoggoth of a Different Color.
Title: Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil
Pairing/Characters: Feilong / Kuroda
Scenario: Feilong and Kuroda are rival antiquities dealers specializing in rare books, themselves collecting the rarest of the rare. They hear of a fabled copy of the Necronomicon coming up for sale in an underground auction, and each is determined to have it.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Feilong's arc in VF; Warnings: half serious, half crack, half insane (the halves overlap, silly)
Disclaimer: Yamane-sensei owns the human characters; Text excerpts noted in reference at the end.
Rating: PG-13
Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil
The air that night hung heavy and damp over the streets of Hong Kong, a fishy smell permeating the mist so strongly that even people who'd lived by the sea all their lives shuttered their windows and closed up shop. From the window of the small, exclusive bookshop, known as Baishe Books because of the painting of a small white snake over the door, a young salesman noted all the lights in the neighboring shops turning out.
"Master Feilong, everyone else is closing. Shouldn't we also? The books will start smelling like an old fish cart and no one will buy them."
He turned to see if there was any reaction to his words, but his master didn't even look up from the old volume he was perusing. Typical, for him to become lost in a book. They were beloved friends to him. Tao peered at the one currently occupying Feilong's attention, trying to use his training to figure out what it was from across the room: English, early 20th century, tan cloth binding -ah, the signed first edition of The Shadow over Innsmouth they'd just acquired from the estate sale in London. A creepy book. They could have bought the whole set of signed Winnie the Pooh first editions for the same amount. His mouth formed into a pout.
"I've heard mists like this can freeze a person's face. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life looking like the fish we're smelling?" Feilong glanced up at him, his face serene but his eyes twinkling. "Why, I'd imagine that even a silly old bear would run in the other direction if he saw such a thing. Have you finished inventorying the London purchases, Tao?"
Tao smoothed his face over, trying to emulate Feilong and failing. "No sir. I meant to. But the smell... "
Feilong waved him toward the back room. "I'm expecting a visitor shortly. We'll close as soon as he arrives."
Tao started to open his mouth again but Feilong simply raised an eyebrow, and he glumly walked into the back to do his duty.
Feilong picked up his lukewarm teacup and took a sip, grimacing. He glanced at the microwave, but turned up his nose. Never. That confounded grad student Mikhail had insisted upon buying one so he could eat instant noodle bowls there every day despite having a shop that made homemade just two doors down. But while Feilong had allowed it for his customers, he was damned if he'd make use of the thing. He turned back to his book with a soft sigh.
"For out of an opened door in the Gilman House a large crowd of doubtful shapes was pouring-lanterns bobbing in the darkness, and horrible croaking voices exchanging low cries in what was certainly not English. The figures moved uncertainly, and I realised to my relief that they did not know where I had gone; but for all that they sent a shiver of horror through my frame. Their features were indistinguishable, but their crouching, shambling gait was abominably repellent. And worst of all, I perceived that one figure was strangely robed, and unmistakably surmounted by a tall tiara of a design altogether too familiar. As the figures spread throughout the courtyard, I felt my fears increase. Suppose I could find no egress from this building on the street side? The fishy odour was detestable, and I wondered I could stand it without fainting."
Feilong's head involuntarily jerked back, nostrils twitching. Laughing a little at himself, he carefully noted the page and closed the book, setting it aside. Perhaps he should close shop now, expected visitor or not. After all, the person hadn't bothered adding his name to the mysterious request for a meeting.
The panes at the front of the store rattled slightly, startling him. The wind whistled a long low note as it blew down the narrow roadway his door faced. Something about it made him suddenly afraid, and he felt fear rarely enough that he knew to take heed when it arose. He quickly stepped forward and laid his hand on the lock, about to flip it into place, when the door burst inward causing him to jump back and out of the way. His years of martial arts training made him instinctively land in a defensive crouch, awaiting whatever might come through that door.
It was a tall figure, draped in a brown hooded cloak that left his face in shadow.
"Liu Feilong." A deep male voice came from within the folds of cloth. "I see you got my note. We have much to discuss and not much time."
"I got it. I found the lack of signature rude. Who are you?"
"One who has been both friend and enemy to you in other times and places. One who at this point in time loves and understands you, and sees you for what you are."
"And what exactly is that?" His words were clipped.
"Humanity's only hope."
Feilong blinked and slowly stood up, trying to figure out if this was a nut or merely someone wanting him to think he was a nut. In the meantime, the figure closed and locked the door, turned the sign on it to Closed, and pulled the shutter down.
"Presumptuous."
"Were you not going to do the same?" The person pulled the hood back, revealing...
"Kuroda!" The name burst out of him at the sight of his handsome rival. He tried not to think of the earlier words, which after all must have been some of Shinji's typical nonsense. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Hush. Dark forces are astir tonight. Give them no names they can use against us."
"Are you out of your mind? And why are you speaking like you're in a bad fantasy novel?"
"You have no sense of drama, Feilong. I was trying to stress how deadly serious the situation is."
"What situation? I know of no 'situation' that warrants you appearing in my shop spouting rubbish."
"Would you at least offer me some tea? That fish smell has permeated my nose to the point where I can't even smell the books in this room. It's... disconcerting."
Feilong bit back his retort. That would indeed be intolerable. No one deserved that. "Wait here. I'll make some. And no tucking away valuable volumes! If you're capable of recognizing them," he added a little snottily as he walked back to the where the teapot was. He always raises my... he blushed, my ire, he finished lamely to himself.
As he began assembling what he needed, his mind drifted back to the first time they'd met, in that auction house in Austria. They'd both been going after an unattributed manuscript, but Feilong had believed it to be by Agrippa himself. He didn't believe in that alchemy nonsense, but what a beautiful expression of the human mind. And when someone had unexpectedly bid against him he'd turned his head in surprise to see a striking young Japanese man staring at him from across the aisle. From the gleam in his eyes, he'd known they were seeing the same thing. After that, it seemed like they were always turning up at the same places...
He felt eyes on his back. He always did when Kuroda was around. It was like he'd never seen a Chinese man in traditional clothing. Either that or he was searching for weaknesses he could exploit. He started a conversation just to distract them both.
"What's all this nonsense about an emergency that was in your note? What in our line of business could ever be considered an emergency? Is the ink suddenly disappearing from books everywhere?"
"It's almost as bad as that." Kuroda's low voice came from directly behind him. He flinched, spilling loose tea across the counter. "Allow me."
Kuroda's arms came from behind, surrounding him, scooping the tea up, placing it into the warmed pot, unaware that he was warming Feilong in turn. "You brought out the good tea for me." His tone was almost playful. "Should I feel special?"
As if he means it.... Feilong shoved an encircling arm aside. "Of course not. You're just lucky that I'm out of Lipton." He stalked to the table, annoyed at the chuckle he heard in back of him, more annoyed at the way it stirred his groin. "Describe this 'danger'. You haven't said anything that's convinced me that you're not hallucinating."
He saw the smile disappear from Kuroda's face. "It's no joke, Feilong. It's appeared. And it's calling to everything evil in this world, telling it to arise and worship at the altar of the Old Ones."
Feilong involuntarily glanced at the book he'd been reading. Kuroda's eyes followed and narrowed. "What is that you have there? Lovecraft! Why did you pick that particular book up? It's not your typical interest. You see? They're calling to you too!"
"I got it at a good price..." He weakly defended his purchase, but when he cast his mind back the memory was in shadow. Why had he bought it? "I... " He couldn't recall!
Irritated and not a little nervous at his poor memory, he snapped, "What difference does it make? It's only a novel."
Kuroda moved several steps closer, too close, placing himself between Feilong and the table. As if a book could be a danger.
"That one, yes. But it's all part of the greater mythos, a mythos mankind is about to find out is true. Do you think the smell in the air is a coincidence? The shoggoths are arising, Feilong. Have you not read The Mountains of Madness? "It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train-a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor-"
"They kill penguins?" Feilong choked out, aghast.
"They snack on penguins. They kill everything. They are chaos from the deepest parts of space. And they are only the merest slaves of Cthulhu."
"Kuroda. Shinji..." The other sucked in his breath at Feilong's daring use of his name. "You can't possibly believe this. The next thing you'll be saying is that the Necronomicon has been found."
"Don't speak its name! Because it has, and if He gets his hands on it..."
"He? What He? You don't mean... Asami?" The horror in Feilong's voice spoke volumes. Asami was a wealthy bookseller from Japan who... Feilong could barely let himself think of it... didn't love books. He only saw them as a commodity. And then turned the ones he couldn't sell into confetti and mulch. If there was an evil personified.... Feilong shuddered.
"Exactly. Can you imagine him with the Book of Pure Evil in his hands?"
Feilong thought about it. That Tome of Horror might be the first book Asami would ever love, and honestly had to admit that seeing him with that glow in his eyes for a book, even this one, might be kind of hot.
"Feilong! We have to find it and keep it from him at all costs! And my horoscope said that you were the key. That the book would be found by you, and that only you could destroy it."
A sound came from the back rooms of the shop. Where Tao was working. "Master Feilong? Has your visitor arrived? You should have let me know so I could have prepared something."
Tao appeared in the door.
Or, something that looked like Tao did. Because his eyes were glowing with a sickly greenish hue and something slick and wormy writhed in the darkness behind him.
Feilong and Kuroda slowly backed away. "Tao, what have you done?"
"Why, only the inventory as you asked. I came across the strangest book there. It actually talked to me. And when it did, everything seemed so clear." Tao's focus shifted to the man at his side. "Kuroda. Trying to get into Master Fei's pants again, eh? Haven't you figured out that you Just. Don't. Belong there?"
A tentacle slithered out from behind Tao's head, a pustule at the end swelling until it burst, coating Kuroda in a slime that smelled like regurgitated tuna salad. In an instant, Kuroda was gone, a penguin with a confused look in his place.
"Squawk?" The penguin's eyes widened behind Kuroda's old glasses. "Squawk squawk squaaaawk!"
There was a noise outside the shop, as if a great weight pushed against the side of the building and slithered along it. Feilong looked down in horror at what appeared to be Shoggoth Snack.
"Squaaawk!" the penguin wailed, and quickly burrowed under the hem of Feilong's cheongsam.
This.... this cannot be happening. Yet it was. Tao was possessed by a god from the depths of chaos. Kuroda was a penguin shivering under his skirt. Asami was trying to get his hands on the Book of Pure Evil. And a shoggoth seemed to be defacing the front of his shop.
Feilong was nothing if not practical, and he had had enough.
"Right. Okay then. It's up to me. Tao, GIVE ME THAT BOOK THIS INSTANT."
For a second, his old Tao appeared, big brown eyes wide, shocked by a tone of voice he rarely heard from his beloved master. His arms automatically shot forward, the old book in his hands. Feilong snatched it from him, electric currents travelling up his arms from it, the pain indescribable except that it was so great it verged on pleasure. His vision doubled, then trebled, and it felt like his mind slid sideways into spaces with shapes that couldn't possibly exist. The book flew open, the pages flipping madly, and at the center of a picture of a vortex into hell, a hole opened. And in he fell.
Something tugged him forward, past claws the size of stars and maelstroms that could swallow galaxies. He held his breath as long as possible, but as his consciousness faded and he opened his mouth with a gasp, he found he could breathe normally. There was a scrabbling at his ankle and he looked down to kick whatever it was away, and found Kuroda there. Or someone that looked like Kuroda, no longer a penguin but unlike Feilong had ever seen him, and his heart thudded at the sight. He wore a chain-link suit of armor that shone with an inner light. But instead of a sword he carried an old-fashioned set of scales in his hand, one that glowed so bright that it lit their way like a beacon.
And as they fell the monsters to all sides pulled back as if the light burned their eyes, and the storms parted, as if whatever powered them could only do so in the dark. Deeper they went into that darkness, chaos on all sides, stars collapsing, planets exploding, civilizations failing, until they finally came to a dark, flat plain that they could stand upon, though it felt like a heavy liquid sea under their feet. Their light was the only that could be seen on that broad emptiness. He had never felt so insignificant. Feilong fumbled about for Kuroda's free hand, and when he found it the scales glowed a little brighter.
Dark shapes flitted in swarms above their heads, every so often dropping toward them with an alarming suddenness. Yet they didn't attack. It was as if they were waiting for something to happen. So they too waited, knowing it eventually would.
As the ground shifted beneath them, their grip on each other tightened. Feilong glanced at the face of the man beside him, stern under his opened helm. His chin was up defiantly and he glared at the darkness as if its mere existence offended him. If ever he was glad to have someone at his side, it was now. And, he realized, he was glad it was this man. He had the feeling that what he saw down here, lit by this light, was in some way truth.
He'd always known Kuroda cared about books the way someone should, which to be honest was more than most booksellers. But he hadn't realized that this caring extended to all that was right and good. After working in the cutthroat world of high-end antiques, Feilong had come to believe no one should be trusted. But seeing Kuroda here... He was starting to think he really was what he seemed and more. A true knight at heart, a defender of justice...
"Shinji..."
Kuroda turned his head slightly, looking from the corner of his eyes, the fierceness in them giving way to something softer yet just as strong. "Feilong... I knew you'd be this beautiful inside as out."
"And you..." Feilong squeezed the hand he held tighter, and got an answering squeeze in return. There was never a question that he would fight with all he had as a matter of pride. Now, he would do it for something more. He straightened his spine, waiting for what was to come.
When it did, it was a heavy immense thing, a foul thing, dragging across the plain, a filthy miasma in its wake.
They stood there, tiny, two humans, in front of it. Kuroda raised his scales higher, and Feilong lifted his voice in command. "You shall not pass!"
Kuroda glanced at him, his eyebrows drawing together.
Feilong shrugged. In times of doubt, stick with the classics.
It hadn't even noticed them before he'd spoken, Feilong realized. Because when it did notice, bringing its billions of eyes to bear upon him, pain hit him in a great wave, consuming him. Visions appeared in the mists, flitting past him, things that made no sense, shadows of memories that had never happened ...
...He saw himself as a child attending his mother's funeral, weeping hysterically at her loss, though that couldn't be right because he had visited her only last week. He knew her to be alive, yet the pain of the loss hit him as if it were his own; his mother, his closest friend, torn from him...
...A young man he recognized as Liu Yantsui before he became a dissolute drug lord, raping a terrorized younger version of himself outside one of the mansions above Hong Kong; greedy fingers clawed at his skin...
...An old man, Liu's father, bloodied and dying in his arms, his tears scalding the silk the man wore; blood of a beloved on his hands...
...Toh, his son-of-a-dog father, still alive and raising a gun to shoot him, that asshole Asami between them, a look of horror and outrage on his face; the shock of betrayal by one he was coming to love...?
...A young man he didn't know, brown eyes full of fire and tears, bound and struggling under his double as he began raping him; a cruel act of jealousy and rage ripping his humanity and this boy apart...
He doubled over from the force of the foul emotions that coursed through him. More visions joined the swarm about him, dizzying him, this time his friends...
...Mikhail, eyes so fierce and blue they couldn't possibly be real, a lash coming down on his shoulders, scarring forming so deep inside that emotions could never again get past them...
...A serious man about his age, head bowed, lonely in a barren room, his eyes haunted....
...Tao, his beloved Tao, staring at him with something in his eyes that he'd never wanted to see....
...Kuroda in a courtroom, still trying to fight evil but seduced by Asami's words and despising himself for it....
No....
They all hammered at his walls, their grief, their fear, their hurt, their hopelessness. So many of them, so many in pain...
His own heart was too open. Tendrils from the visions brushed against him, his hair, his arms, letting bits of them through, of all of them. Tastes of their grief-filled lives.
He knew them all and screamed the agony they'd been feeling, the love in his heart overwhelmingly wanting to help them.
Then an odd thing happened.
They all stopped, and turned, and looked.
At him.
They. Not visions, but versions. Real living versions of the people he cared for. Other universes with timelines that were off from this one, and in all of them he was wracked with pain. They stopped, their eyes going wide, and reached for him, thousands of Feilongs and Kurodas and Taos, all of them hurting; they reached out, trying to grasp a piece of him. And he wanted to help, he really did, but there were so many and so little of himself, and -
"Feilong." The voice next to him was strong and deep and gentle and he wanted to rest his head in the lap of the man who said his name that way. And he looked over to meet eyes watching him with love and pride. "You were made for this. We can do this together."
There was a strain around Kuroda's eyes, as if he too had been witnessing something like what Feilong had. His hand shook a little as it held the scales, but he refused to let them slip. Feilong never forgot how he stood there in that moment, because that was the moment he truly fell in love with this man who would persevere, for the world's sake, and for Feilong's. He reached out and brought the instrument into their joined hands, and together they lifted it up. It held firm and shone like the sun on a summer morning.
They stood in front of this so-called god, Kuroda as beautiful and good as he'd ever known a man to be, this thing bringing pain to them and millions of his brothers and friends, and for what reason? Boredom? A lesson?
Feilong got pissed. He couldn't help it. He'd always had a temper, and he spoke to this thing, his voice ringing with fury. "You think we don't know pain? It's our lot in life to know not only our own, but that of every being on our planet. Our pain is written in every book in our libraries, and when we read them we each take it as our own. We've already lived these hells through the words of others; it's nothing new. And we understand it and share it and are better for it. That's what it means to be human. That's what we give each other."
The beast in front of him roared without sound, galaxies quenching from the fury of it.
But he knew that it wasn't indifferent to them any longer. He sensed fear.
"Perhaps if we were alone you might defeat one of us. And that's no doubt how you've gained some small foothold here. You and your slaves. But you won't just be facing one, and you're starting to realize that and be scared by it, aren't you? Because you know that when it comes down to the end, you're the one that will be alone, without friends, without others who understand you, abandoned by your minions. It will only be you coming against all of us, because when we stand, we stand together. And when we stand together, you are nothing against us."
And he knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do. He raised his right hand, stretching it out to the souls floating around him. "You're all a part of me anyway. You can find a home here." And he opened his heart to them. "It's large enough for all of you."
The windows to those other worlds wavered and began circling above his head, whirling slowly as those within watched him.
"Come," he shouted. "I'm not afraid of you!" And he met the eyes of all the other Feilongs and all his friends as they flew about him, hope rising in their eyes for the first time, looking past their own existence to reach out to those beside them, linking one universe to the next. Joined, they spun faster- he could feel the wind of it, pushing him into a small space of calm at the center, he and Kuroda in the eye of a cyclone. The faces became a wall, growing, reaching higher, taller than Feilong's eyes could see. A sound grew-at first he thought it was the roar of the winds, but when he caught glimpses of their faces they were all shouting.
Anger, excitement, encouragement, they were all trying to reach one another to let them all know that here was another, as each realized that he was not alone, that together they had power. The winds formed a tunnel now, a tornado of souls driven by their exhilaration, the speed making it impossible to see individuals any longer. They were bound into one. The walls stretched ever higher, narrowing at the top, the base lifting from the ground, letting them again see what was around them.
"Feilong!" Kuroda shouted into his ear, pointing. The beast's tentacles were writhing against the background of black. Feilong couldn't tell what it was doing at first, but then horror took him as he saw the fabric of reality itself rip, and an eye larger than the monster before them looked through at him.
"No! I won't let you!" he yelled.
The twister above grew tighter and formed a point on the end. It began to tip forward.
"You won't have to. Your heart has shown us the way."
He realized what they meant to do. "You can't! You'll die!"
And they started laughing. "No brother, I/we/you surely won't, for you hold us in your heart." For a moment it seemed time paused around them as they fell as one, a spear pointing at their target. Then a great cry was heard as the beasts around them understood their purpose but it was too late. Like an arrow shot from a giant bow, they swiftly flew toward the beast, aim sure and true.
With a shout Kuroda hurled the scales of justice into the heart of the living spear and it burned hot and bright as it plunged through the center of the beast-god and into the eye of the watcher. They felt the pounding force of a deafening cry as the eye went dark and the tear in the universe snapped shut, as if whatever it was that peeked through decided it wanted nothing to do with them. The great monster itself disintegrated, whatever evil that held it together dissolved by their shared hopes and pains, far more deadly to the unfeeling thing than any weapon of steel could have been.
The weapon too dissociated, into floating particles of gold that flocked over the plains in joyous flight, burning all presence of that evil thing from the plains, then going after the ones in the skies.
Feilong found himself lifted in arms of light, flying backwards too fast, his vision narrowing as if his blood were compressing from great speeds. He sped upward toward a narrow aperture that grew until it seemed just large enough to let him through, and then he was. He slammed against a bookshelf on the far side of his store, which didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would because Kuroda was still holding on to him as if he'd never let go. Feilong quickly slipped from his grip, books tumbling around them; his work wasn't done.
The writhing shape behind Tao was screeching, and Feilong dove forward, pulling the boy into his arms even as the tentacles tried to drag him into the book. Their feet slipped forward as they scrabbled across the wooden floor and he balanced on the precipice. There was no way he was going back in there. But he was tired and he was having trouble balancing and Tao was trying to get loose, and then suddenly he was there, arms like steel around him, anchoring him to the here and now. He kicked downward with all his might into the face of evil and then they were free.
The book snapped shut with one final angry cry and disappeared.
They lay there, Kuroda holding Feilong holding Tao, all three of them trembling in silence, until Tao started wailing, "Oh Master Feilong! I'm so sorry! I was going to poke you with a tentacle."
Kuroda's shaking turned into laughter, and Feilong couldn't help joining in, as much from hysteria as anything.
Tao wiggled around until he was looking over Feilong's shoulder. "Why are you laughing, you big penguin! I'm not sorry I did that!"
Feilong laughed harder and glanced back. "I think we have a can of herring..."
"My little Gandalf..." Kuroda teased.
"You're the one who wanted drama earlier...."
"It was perfect. You were perfect."
He rolled onto his back and looked up at Kuroda, now seeing far more than he'd ever let himself see in the past, and he lifted his head to plant a firm kiss on a pair of smiling lips that he'd always found rather entrancing, truth be told. Plus the glasses were kind of cute.
And he liked the blush that was rising in those cheeks, though he felt the need to hide his own. He hopped to his feet and held both of his hands down. "All right you two. We have some evil to sweep up in here. Let's get to it before it attracts Asami. I've had enough evil beasts for one day."
Tao stood, sniffling. "If you had bought Pooh instead..."
"You, my lazy little assistant, evidently didn't get to the bottom of the box. Such a terrible job inventorying. Perhaps I should return them..."
"What? You bought them? Really?"
"Perhaps."
Tao edged toward the back of the store in a hurry. Feilong's gentle voice stopped him.
"Tao..."
"Yes, Master Feilong?"
"If you see any other books bound in human skin, just... come to me first."
Tao shuddered. "Don't worry Master Feilong. I'm not going to listen to any more promises about Tao the Great and Terrible." With a sly grin, he disappeared into the back.
"...How could he possibly ever be Great and Terrible....?"
"It seems to me he's already working on it." Kuroda was slowly getting back to his feet, his eyes not meeting Feilong's. "I should probably head back to Tokyo..."
Feilong turned toward him in surprise. "No, you really shouldn't."
Kuroda was staring at him, his face serious. "I saw things inside myself today... You have so much love in your heart, you were able to accept everything you saw there. But for me... There are things I need to come to terms with, Feilong. "
"And you think you can only do that alone. Did you miss what happened there?"
"Of course not. It's just... you... you didn't see yourself the way I did. You were shining so brightly..."
Feilong stepped forward until he was pressed against a very solid and warm chest. "We saw each other a little more deeply than we're used to. I'm not sure what it meant. Perhaps it's only how I truly see you, but to me you were wearing shining armor, my dear. Corny, but I suppose that's what I get for reading fantasy novels."
"You don't need a knight. You're strong enough on your own."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But in that pit, I couldn't have done without you, nor you without me. And don't you think that's something that we should explore together?"
Kuroda looked at him for a long minute, Feilong watching the emotions warring in his eyes, and he sighed. "Enough of this." He grabbed Kuroda's ears and pulled him forward into a kiss that was meant to melt his socks off. Then he released him, their lips sticking a little, and he peered into Kuroda's glasses. They were a little fogged but, "Still thinking, I see."
This time Feilong kissed him slowly, nibbling at his lips until they surrendered and opened, inviting him in, sharing, adding to whatever it was they'd already managed to create in the abyss. This time when they parted, Kuroda didn't want to let go, and his eyes were soft and warm and hungry.
"I think I see your point."
"You always were a quick study."
"Feilong... when it showed us those things..." Fingers on his lips stopped him.
"Let's talk about that another time. Tonight is for celebrating."
"And cleaning!" They heard from a stern voice below and to the side. "If I can't read Pooh now, then you can't do.... " Tao made a duck face and wiggled his body. He handed a mop and a wrench to Kuroda. "The pipe under the sink broke."
Feilong pursed his lips so laughter wouldn't escape. "And what are my duties, oh great and terrible master?"
"You," a stern eye was turned upon him, one that softened. "You should pick up your beloved books and place them back where they belong."
"I think I can manage that."
Kuroda bowed slightly, flourishing the mop and wrench like they were sword and shield. "At your service, Your Terribleness. And I mean that exactly as you think I do." And adjourned to the kitchen nook.
Tao turned up his nose and casually walked toward the back again, poking his head into the nook, saying only, "Squawk." And he ran into the back calling out, "Squawk, squawk, squaaawk," in a sing-song voice.
"Brat!" Feilong heard, slightly muffled.
He snorted softly, then bent to his task, only pausing once when he came across a beloved volume by Dickens, thinking of the sacrifice within it.
Down there, in the abyss, right as the last sounds fell to silence, he'd heard a chorus of joyous whispers that faded on the wind...
"Did you see? He was happy...."
Tears fell onto the hard wood floor for all of them, that this should be so foreign an idea to them. That they would remain in that darkness to preserve this rare happy version of themselves.
Then he remembered that he still carried pieces of all of them in his heart.
I will show you. I will show you all what it means to be happy, and to love and be loved. And you will never wonder at it again.
He patted the cover of the book lovingly. They'll have the chance, my friend, that you did not. He placed the book onto the shelf beside his brothers, and bent to retrieve the next.
He didn't even notice the clean breeze blowing down the street outside, carrying the last remnants of anything dark and evil out to sea where they were cast upon currents that dispersed them to places so far flung that they never again gathered to bother another soul.
~end~
The fan art for this prompt:
Beautful picture by mtarashidango
Artist Note: The books in the background came from Favim.com, and the texture on Feilong cheongsam is from Shutterstock.com (John Lock).
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References and Notes
Since my beta read this and said "I'm not familiar with what you were referencing so I have to admit I was kinda (o_O;)... Also, what the fuck were you smoking when writing this?", some notes:
There are two pieces of text taken from the writings of H.P. Lovecraft, a writer of the early 20th c, who wrote horror centered on the idea that we are incapable of understanding this universe, and all we'll be able to do is stare in horror as it relentlessly grinds us down to nothing. Yay.
The first piece of text is from The Shadow over Innsmouth, and the second is from At the Mountains of Madness (One of two books that have ever actually made me scream in terror. Seriously).
These aren't modern horror with gore and shocks. This is old-fashioned horror that slowly builds upon an atmosphere of strangeness and incomprehensible weirdness until it hits a peak at the end of the story where, if you're like me, you scream and run out into the sunlight. Lovecraft is about the language of horror, about making you uncomfortable with words until you're squirming in your chair. He also built an entire mythos of alien ... things wanting to consume us that later writers built into a universe. This mythos inspired some of the first fan fiction that I think existed, because so many authors wanted to play in it.
The Necronomicon is a mythical book that is a part of this universe. It and its parent mythos are referenced in a lot of pulp culture, including the TV series whose name I stole for the name of this fic, Todd and the Book of Pure Evil.
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The book referenced at the end of the story I'll leave for you to guess. Everyone who guesses right gets a free bag of Shoggoth Snacks, Penguin-flavored of course. :)
If you made it all the way through this, you're one more person than I thought would. XDD Thanks for reading!
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Title(s): Be Careful What you Wish For; Tut Tut It Looks Like Feilong; A Tale of Two Asamis; The Lord of That Ring; The Wizard of CS
Pairing/Characters: Asami x Aki, Feilong x Kuroda, Havi x Vald, Feilong x others
A/N: While I was writing Feilong and the Book of Pure Evil, I kept stopping and writing little omake kinds of things mixing VF and the books I was referencing. Most are the product of an exhausted mind, i.e. utter crack. The first one, the Lovecraft one, is more on the Twilight Zone side. The Pooh, crack. The Dickens... I just don't know, Reader's Digest Condensed Crack. The Tolkien, CRAAAACK. The Baum, hair of the dog epilogue crack. I hope at least one amuses you. :)
Be Careful What You Wish For...
Or, what might have happened had Feilong lost...
Dark waves washed against the shore, oily and heavy, rolling up onto the sand before sliding back into the ocean, leaving a slick film where they'd been. A gentle breeze blew along the beach ruffling his tentacles, setting them swaying like fronds of a palm tree.
One of his feelers reached down into the bucket beside him, grasping some wriggling creature he didn't know the name of, but which was certainly in season judging by the delightful crunch and juicy squirt it made when he popped it into one of his mouths.
"Master Feilong, isn't the view beautiful?" At least, that's what he tried to say. The words came out in another language now, one that made his beloved master shudder in his chains.
"What have you done with my Tao, you... thing!? I'll kill you when I get free."
But I am your Tao... he reached out with a slick tentacle to gently brush the silky black strands of hair, so like his lovely appendages.
Until that dratted pet of his master's jumped between them and started squawking at him. Who would keep a snack for a pet? But he was always one to indulge his master, even when his master glared at him with hate-filled eyes and protectively hugged that damned penguin. In time Feilong would change and accept him, when he saw how great and magnificent the world was now with Tao in charge.
He placed a feeler into another bucket and began sucking up the delightfully bloody blend of pureed Australians until his thirst was eased. The snacks had been delicious, but rather salty. With a last wistful look at Master Feilong, he let the breeze lull him into sleep. Several of his mouths smiled and drooled a little. It was only a matter of time.
Tut Tut, It Looks Like Feilong
"Oh bother," said chibi Feilong, a frown on his face. "I have hunny in my hair. " He promptly stuck the ends into his mouth and began sucking on them.
"Oh d-d-dear! You shouldn't do that, Master Fei! Yoh! What should we do?"
"There's nothing to be done, Tao." Yoh said gloomily. "Always thought hunny was a bit over-rated myself."
"Over-rated, schmover-rated!" Mikhail bounced into the room. "Anything with Feilong in it is automatically smackalicious! Hoohooooo!"
"Hullo, Arbatov." That was from Feilong, only it came out more like 'Huvvooahvfof'.
"Huvvooahvfof to you too! Is that French?"
"No," said Yoh with a frown. "It's not even funny."
Feilong stuck his finger into his mouth along with the hair and hunny and had an Idea. Obviously the best thing to get the hunny out of his hair was to put his hair into the hunny and he turned upside down and stuck his head in the pot, showing his bare butt to the entire room.
Mikhail sprang with such a spring that his ears stuck in the ceiling, his eyes wide like saucers and his tail whirling like a gyro. Tao's stuttering propelled him hopping on one leg across the room to knock into the China cabinet, causing the door to Hong Kong to briefly open then snap shut as if embarrassed by being caught with its drawers open. Yoh smiled and his tail immediately stuck straight up into the air and fell off.
The next morning, no one in the Hundred Acre Wood was able to adequately agree upon the tale they told Christopher Robin. But one thing they all did agree upon was that Yesterday would henceforth be known as The Best Day Ever.
A Tale of Two Asamis
He sat with his back to the cold stone wall, listening to the roar of the crowds outside. Who would be called today? Who would face the guillotine? And more importantly, how would they face it?
He didn't want to die. He was only 28, and had just recently found his true love, Kuroda Pinkleweather, a merchant of books who had escaped The Terror thus far by printing pamphets supporting The Common Man. But that hadn't stopped the soldiers from arresting him, Liu Feilong, reputed to be a Prince of Hong Kong. How does one explain that they are at most the head of a crime family? Criminals were brought to death as well, unless they were well-heeled, and these days he was not.
A commotion at the door interrupted his thoughts. Several more prisoners were shoved in, followed by a pair of priests to hear confessions. They at least allowed the poor fools around him that. But he had no God and would find no solace in religion.
Still, a priest approached and knelt by him "Pray with me, my son." He had an odd accent.
"Thank you Father, but I am Buddhist. Your God won't hear me."
"He might not, Feilong, but I will if you beg nicely." A hand far too elegant for a priest pushed the hood back slightly, revealing a face that was never far from his thoughts. "Asami!" A hand slapped over his mouth.
"My son," Asami said loudly, "That is a word that shouldn't pass Christian lips!"
Feilong stilled and the hand was cautiously lifted. "That is one thing upon which we agree. What are you doing here? Come to gloat?"
"Come to free you, but if you want to be an asshole I'll be happy to let you stay."
"I don’t believe you. Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because I care for Kuroda and his happiness, and unfortunately that means you." Asami was rummaging under his robes, trying to hide his face.
Feilong stared, then reached out to grab his arm. "You mean that."
"Of course I mean that. Now put these on. You're going out in my place."
"What? I can't do that? What about you? They'd never mistake us!"
Asami pulled him forward. "They will. You're about to have your locks shorn." He grabbed Feilong's hair in a bundle and sliced it all off with a sharpened Asian blade, quality steel. The hair fell into Asami's hands. "You could have made a lot of money selling this silk."
"You... you..."
"Yes, me. It's high time you put your father to rest. Consider this a gift. Now get that robe on while the guards aren't looking." The scratchy brown wool was dumped on his head, and he reluctantly dragged it on.
A voice called from the other side of the room. "Father William, are you ready to go? We have other flocks to tend." He recognized Yoh.
"Go," said Asami.
"I can't!"
"Now, before I change my mind! For Kuroda."
Feilong remembered the stricken face of his lover, and knew that Asami had played the only card that would have worked. "We'll get you out. We will."
Asami shrugged out of his vestments. He was wearing a cheongsam akin to Feilong's, and a wig of long black hair. Feilong would have burst into laughter if he hadn't looked so hot.
"Brother William, now!"
"Go," Asami growled.
Feilong sped out of the room to freedom, not looking back.
~~
He and Kuroda had left France for England that night. Yoh assured him that he was doing everything that could be done, and not to waste Asami's sacrifice.
Two days later, they heard Feilong's name had been called that day, and that the Chinese 'prince' had had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the guillotine. He screamed in foreign words but couldn't be understood. A heathen, the mob agreed. You can't understand them foreign folks, they said.
Feilong stood on a bridge overlooking the Themes and cried on Kuroda's shoulder. "Oh Asami. It is a far, far better thing that you did, than you have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that you go to, than you have ever known."
"It was one of my better moments, I'll give you that."
Feilong spun around to see Asami, minus long hair, standing with his arm around a young Japanese man.
"But how? Who? What happened?"
"I found someone who looked like you, whom I thought deserved to die more than I."
"You egotistical criminal! You would think anyone deserved to die more than you." The young man spoke Japanese with a French accent and he had a mouth on him.
"Of course. And so do you, sweet Akihito. Admit it."
"I admit nothing." Akihito turned his nose up and glared out of the corner of his eye. But he remained within Asami's grasp.
"Tell me!" Feilong interrupted. He needed to know who had taken his name.
"Your brother, of course. He was the one who had turned you in, because he was jealous of you two. I sent a message saying you wanted to see him one last time before you died, to confess to him. The fool came. I drugged him, stuck your old hair in his mouth and wrapped a silk scarf around his head. Told the guards he had the ague, that they shouldn't let him breathe on them. I glued the wig on his head and tied his hands and left him. I hear he died like a dog, trying to spit your hair out and talk. I'd say I'm sorry about your reputation, but after being named a coward you won't get any business in Hong Kong. Your shipping lines are now as good as mine. Consider the courageous act that saved your life repaid."
He turned to Akihito, letting his hands slip lower. "And that's more than I've spoken in a month. Time for us to go." He squeezed. Akihito's eyes glazed over. "Say it, you know you want to: "Please sir, I want some more.'"
The fire came back into the young man's eyes. "Never." He shoved away. Asami picked him up and carried him princess style down the bridge, Akihito wriggling but never quite escaping. Neither looked back.
"And here I thought he was a hero for once."
"He did save you, Feilong. He could have died."
"I suppose so. But instead Yan did. Am I a bad person, Kuroda? I only feel relief."
"Of course you're not. I wouldn't love a bad person. Your brother tried to kill you, and his ill wishes were returned threefold. It was not you that brought him to his death. He should never have fought with Asami. Any fool knows that."
"He always did want to be him. Why do you think he did it, Kuroda? Asami, I mean."
Kuroda was silent for a moment. "He has more good in him than people realize. But he doesn't get a chance to let it out often. Maybe this was just a way for him to release it all at once."
"Hmm. Then I pity the boy."
"Don't. The boy already has him wound around his finger. I've never seen him like that. It is good to see him happy."
"Wait. I just realized... You wouldn't love a bad person? You love me? That's the first time you've ever said it!" Feilong turned in Kuroda's arms and kissed him, right there in public.
Kuroda tightened his grip and murmured, "Please sir, I want some more."
Smiling shyly, Feilong took his lover's hand and tugged him toward home.
They returned to their flat in Mayfair, nothing too fancy, but well enough that they'd be considered gentlemen, if foreign and eccentric. I have no specific knowledge of their futures past that, but I am certain that they were loving companions long into their old age, until together they passed into a far better world.
Lord of That Ring
"No, I'm not carrying it one step further."
"But Akihito, you said you always wanted to travel like your father." Feigolas swept his hair back dramatically. "You'll walk the entire length of Middle Earth!"
"You know what will happen. He'll be waiting with those limo-riding ring wraiths, catch me, and shove that ring up-"
"Actually Master Hobbit, I know gold," Yohgli offered. "It's more sized to fit around your -"
"Why are you arguing?" Boromik jumped to his feet. "It's obvious what should be done with it. You need men to wield it, good Russian men. Look at these muscles!"
"Stop stripping! Why are you always stripping around me?"
"Because you're always noticing?"
Akihito jumped to his feet. "Where's Yamane? Isn't the head elf supposed to be here? And that wizard from her other series? Why can't they do it?"
Thunder cracked and lighting flashed and a striking dark-haired man in a long cloak appeared in the center of the room. He looked around, confused. "This isn't Asgard...." He disappeared.
There was an unearthly shriek outside the entrance and a moment later another tall dark-haired man, this one in a rather stylish black cashmere coat, strode into the room. He glared back over his shoulder. "Suoh, get the air checked in those tires. I've had it with that shrieking."
Smoked poured from his mouth along with the words. Everyone shrank back in horror. Feigolas bravely raised his arm, his hand shaking, and pointed at the wall. "That sign says No Smoking. Please cease that display immediately."
"Oh certainly. I may be the Dark Lord of Mordor, but if there's one thing I respect it's a good No Smoking sign."
"Really?"
"No not really. It seems that sarcasm detection isn't an elven talent. Humorless prigs. Is it any wonder I prefer the little wriggly ones? Where is he, anyway?" He snapped his fingers and a warm cookie appeared in his hand, dark chocolate and melty caramel and roasted nuts, the sweet decadent odor wafting across the floor.
Yohgli gasped. "But you're supposed to be Evil! How could you create such an enticing thing?"
The Dark Lord smirked. "You should see Gollum after he ate some of these. He's plugging the hole to Mount Doom now. No one will ever get in." He reached down and plucked an encroaching Akihito off the floor and fed him a few crumbs, then took a step back and held out a few more. Akihito glanced around sheepishly and followed. They kept this up, heading for the door.
The ring lay untouched upon the table where Akihito had left it.
"But wait, what about the r-"
All the council members took their hats off and pelted Kou, the Stupid Hobbit.
Asami picked up Akihito and tossed him up onto his shoulder. "You think that's my ring of power?" He patted Akihito's ass. They all looked at him blankly.
He sighed.
"Of course. What was I thinking? Give me the ring. Oh. Oh my." He stepped toward the limo door, continuing to speak in a bored monotone. "Your good thoughts and pleasant natures are too strong for me to bear. No, stop, please. Take the sign down. It makes me want to stop smoking." He threw Akihito into the back seat and jumped in, slamming the door. "Except I'm too smokin' hot! Later, suckers!" The tires shrieked and they heard Asami swearing at Suoh as the car zoomed out of Rivendell.
The others gathered around the table and stared at the ring.
Boromik poked it with a finger. "What ring did he mean then?"
"Akihito must have had it hidden in his pants."
"His pants didn't have any pockets."
They stood around and stared some more.
Elrond and Gandalf, watching from their balcony above, just shook their heads and went back to bed.
Cut to:
Mordor, the Tower Penthouse
Asami lay on the bed in a drug-like haze, his hands reaching out. "My precious, my precious..."
Akihito stood by the window, a phone to his ear. "They have no clue. He may occasionally get to use the ring, but who the heck do they think holds the power?"
"Yeah, and you even put in that joke about the Crack of Doom." He listened. "I know, right? You'd think there was no such thing as being gay in Middle Earth, when I know for a fact at least half the elves-" He listened a second more, then noticed Asami trying to get out of bed. "Hey, I'll catch you in the December issue. Papa needs a hit from the tail pipe." He hung up and caught Asami.
"Hey there, big guy, snap out of it." Asami looked at him blankly. "Fine, we'll do it your way."
"Like hell you're getting my ass," he shouted, hands behind him protectively. He ran toward the bed and "accidently" fell on it, landing with his hands over his head. He wiggled "trying to get away" and his pants slid down, baring his ass.
Asami sauntered over to the bed, picking up some elven rope (you can't beat it for knots that hold). "I love when you pretend to fight."
I know you do, sweetie, Akihito thought fondly. "Turn off the lights, would you? There's nothing that turns me on like that glowing red eye of yours."
One ring to rule them all
One ring to find them.
One ring to bring them all
And in the darkness bind them.
The Wizard of CS
Vald looked up from where he'd laid his head, exhausted from having ridden Havi to completion in the audience room of the castle in the Emerald City. "What are you thinking, Oh Great and Terrible Wizard? If only I had a heart? A brain? The noive?"
Havi ruffled his hair and laughed lovingly. "No, my little flying monkey, I was just thanking the gods that I'm not in that VF universe. Some of those fan fic writers will do anything for a laugh."
Havi promptly turned into a penguin and spent the rest of the evening being chased through the streets of Oz by his monkey-demon lover. But that's a Shoggoth of a Different Color.