"so why did you call me to the library?"
"well we never really looked into your history. Well, demonology or demon history. I thought itd be cool to find out what type of demon you are" iwaizumi chuckled to himself as they entered the library
The architecture of the place was no more apparent than in the bookcase. The stairs had been build first, arcing like the end of a cat's tail before ascending the first floor. The bookcase had come next, built up by the wall, each shelf starting right next to the stair. It was as if the place was designed one feature at a time, each idea feeding off the last.
Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order, young adults section, children's section with low shelves and floor cushions, comfortable leather arm chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness, librarian at help desk, hushed atmosphere punctured by the occasional child's laugh, coarse carpet on the floor, computers for doing book searches, computers for surfing the web, children scamper about, people with laptops, posters for book club on the wall, toddlers singing and story group, wall of magazines, shelves of CD's and movies, washrooms, busy car park.
The bookcase was ornate, as if carved by a person with a profound love of literature. The engravings were of leaves, of autumn berries and birds on the wing - so sublime as to invite the fingers to take it in just as much as the eyes. and so Tooru was drawn to this bookcase- Tucked in at the very edge of the bookcase was a large coffee table hardback book, titled:
'Demonology and my personal encounters with those that don't belong'
it was written by a young history teacher a few centuries ago, inside this book brought words that struck pure anxiety in torus heart...paranoia even. an exert on the section of lower class demons read:
I remember seeing this demon a few years back, tall, thin, pale as the skin of a glass of milk, pale as the full moon, pale as the chalk cliffs of Dover in a full moon, still, vigilant, lurking in the shadows, staring, like a cobra seeking it's prey, wide eyes black as inky pools, dark shadows under sunken eyes, hardened features, immobile face, gaunt, hair slicked back, deep shadows under protruding cheek bones, evil glint in the eyes, slow movements, moves as if he has no bones at all, slinking, oozing
Tooru had to stop reading the text for a moment to look at iwaizumi "is that really what I look like?..."
no response, he kept reading
large black and ugly wings with veins sticking out of them like a bat with webbed wings
"they aren't ugly, they're beautiful" iwaizumi spoke softly without even turning to look at Oikawa
they had very little feathers, as if to show how far they had fallen from heaven, those retched creatures don't deserve to be on earth, if I saw one ever again id ki-
before the brunette had finished reading the sentence the other male shut the book and put it back on the shelf "none of that is true..."
"well what happens if it becomes true? what If I turn into that- that thing he described!" Tooru whimpered and took a closed mouth inhale to stop himself from crying for the 3rd time that day. Of course seeing this Iwaizumi decided to pull Tooru over to another bookshelf and take out another book, this time it was a much smaller hardback with deep engraved writing titled simply: 'demons'
On the topics of reapers it read:
The angel of death comes for the wicked, for those who hurt others with cold indifference. She comes with fingers of knives to slice out the eyes that watched the horror and pain with such callous minds. And when she stands before the greedy, the false and mortal who crave power, blades ready, tell them not for ask for pity, because to her, when she faces those who are so very evil, mercy means death. All he gives is a one way ticket to face God.
The angel of death was tasked with lighting the way to the dimension the departing soul would be bound to for their next life. For a human soul there were infinite paths. She had never yet lost a charge to the emptiness, the vast pool of the other entities that vied to be a God, for he was an ambassador of the only true God - The angel was His channel, His connection to the earthlings, for all angels came from the human race in a time far into the future. All times were nothing but a vast puzzle to the only living deity, all of them important but not sequential in the way we experience them.
She appeared as human for he once was, ethereal yet almost tangible enough to feel. She radiated love, smiled and beckoned. He was quite simply the one no-one would run from, she was the one to take them "home."
"wh-what are you saying Hajime?..."
"I'm saying that I think that is your mother"
Oikawa stared as if Iwaizumi just produced a rhinoceros from his pocket. The ravenettes could just imagine the sparks in his brain, desperately trying to connect the dots and instead just causing a short circuit. Tooru looked like a pop-eyed toy from one of those claw machines at the fun fair. Perfectly funny.
A/n
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unwanted demons | iwaoi
FanfictionOikawa was born as the son of a demon, he had huge black wings and a long, thin tail. No one knows this though, not even Iwaizumi . Iwaizumi knows everything about Oikawa. Surely he does? (Completed)
