#oscuri

a volte,

è assai cara,

permette

all'individuo

la selezione umana.

dark black twins | 2017 @ab_aeterno_ab_absurdo

There’s the moon asking to stay Long enough for the clouds to fly me away Well it’s my time coming, I’m not afraid, afraid to die

My fading voice sings of love But she cries to the clicking of time, oh, time Wait in the fire, wait in the fire Wait in the fire, wait in the fire

And she weeps on my arm Walking to the bright lights in sorrow Oh drink a bit of wine we both might go tomorrow Oh my love

And the rain is falling and I believe my time has come It reminds me of the pain I might leave, leave behind Wait in the fire, wait in the fire Wait in the fire, wait in the fire

And I feel them drown my name So easy to know and forget with this kiss I’m not afraid to go but it goes so slow Wait in the fire, wait in the fire, oh oh yea oh oh oh yeah unh Wait, wait, wait in the fire, wait in the fire Wait in the fire, wait ah uh unh ah

"Wedding gift"?? "Honeymoon"??

CONTEXT: Oscuri (they/them), an 'angel (for lack of a better term)' and Luci, a 'demon', are job partners in The Interim, which is basically where a fixed number of souls travel through whenever they are traveling to an afterlife or to a rebirth. Souls are distinct from spirits, who are the permanent residents of The Interim.

For those souls who don't feel comfortable going into rebirth or their chosen afterlife because they have a lot of guilt, regret, etc. over their past life, there's a place called the Kiln, which is a little like purgatory. Souls can go there and pay penitence in pretty much any way that they feel they need to with the Supervisors. The Supervisors pretty much just place limits on how much penitence they can make themselves go through before they're considered 'purified' or 'clean of conscience'.

One of the Supervisors, however, was disgusted at how much filth was brought into The Interim by the souls cycling through, so he rallied together a band of spirits native to The Interim to 'scatter' the souls. Since souls can't be killed, they get scattered, so their essence is cast all over The Interim, thereby making it harder to regenerate and move into the next life. Some of the spirits who scattered the souls thought of it as a kindness, as giving the souls a clean slate. Oscuri was one of those spirits.

Other spirits, however, thought this was unfair to the souls, since it was kind of unreasonable to expect them to be pure after going through life, which is notoriously messy. The Scattering was stopped, and the spirits who were a part of the uprising were sent to the Kiln for a relatively short time.

Oscuri, however, kept theirself in the kiln until they were fetched by a supervisor for a mission on Earth. They were to join Luci to investigate odd happenings on Earth, possibly related to the Scattering. Oscuri was there because he was supposed to be an expert on the uprising he was a part of, and Luci was there to make sure Oscuri wasn't lying in their reports.

So, the two move into the Warehouse, where they are visited by a soul that was scattered and remembers The Interim (no one is supposed to remember The Interim). After that is handled, this scene happens. It was inspired by someone's post that read as follows:

reasons to not kiss him:

1. you weren't raised to love tender.

2. when he's around all you do is tremble. when he's around you want to get on your knees. look how much power he has over you. it's dangerous.

3. he's too good at forgiving and you're too good at violence.

4. you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the boys who love them. are you going to do that to him?

5. your hands don't know how to be gentle. think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf-boy, you war machine. you wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

6. if you hurt him it might kill you

7. if you hurt him you might kill yourself.

8. you are very bad at rehabilitation. this is one addiction you'd fail to give up. he's going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you'll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name.

9. you still aren't sure he isn't a dream.

10. if you kiss him, you might wake up.

reasons to kiss him:

1. because he's beautiful.

2. because he asked.

3. because he preceded please with, i'm not afraid of you.

SCENE:

"Oscuri," Luci mutters amusedly into my ear, crawling up beside me to his spot in the nest. "Please. I'm not scared of you."

His words wrap around my throat like a noose, and I'm speechless. How could he be so... confident? Trusting? How is this marvel of a demon here, with me, and not afraid? "Have you no sense of self-preservation?" I try to jest, though it comes out pathetically raw and confused as I hug my knees to my chest.

He smiles faintly, resting his head on my shoulder—gods, why do I relax so readily?— and says with impossible softness, "I don't want to preserve myself if it means I live without risks."

' I'm more than a risk,' I want to protest. ' I am a death sentence.' He must know that, right? The blood of thousands drowns me in red, and he looks at me like I'm some glittering ruby instead of a rat drowned in my own depravity. But I can't point that out, can I? Because while he knows my hands are filthy, I can't tell if he can truly understand how much my clinging to him, how much my desire to cling to him, would dirty him.

"Hey," he says, snapping me out of my spiral with a tap to my side. He speaks softly, as to a hurt animal. "We don't have to kiss if you don't want to. Or do anything, really—"

"I don't know what I want," I blurt. The flatly intoned words feel so right and so foreign, as if I was possessed by the part of me that isn't afraid to speak their mind.

He nods, drawing shapes on my leg. "That's ok."

"Is it?" I turn my head to face him. I continue weakly. "Aren't I supposed to have this figured out by now?"

He closes his eyes in the way that he does when he's trying to figure out how to explain a complex concept to a child. "What about the souls we've seen in the Interim?" he starts. "They've lived countless lives, and they're still learning and growing."

I chuckle bitterly. "So no matter how hard they try, they're always imperfect?"

He considers this for a moment, slowing his hands. "I guess so. But what even is perfection to you?"

I furrow my brow. "Something without flaws or weakness?"

"Well," he sighs. "Sounds like perfection isn't actually meant to be attained, then. Because our flaws and weaknesses, they're a part of existing. What are they but areas to grow in?"

"They are things that can be exploited," I point out, practically tasting soul dust as it once coated my mouth and nostrils. "Wouldn't that hinder growth?"

"Not if you learn something from the exploitation, I guess?" He hesitates. "Like how to avoid perpetuating it."

Oh. So this is what he was getting at. "What if it's too late for that?" I ask lowly, feeling my wings sag heavily from my shoulder blades

"Then you fight the exploitation where you are." He nudges my wing with his. "Maybe that's a place to start?"

I can't agree yet. "Haven't I already exploited you enough?" I say, hearing my impossibly thick voice like it isn't mine. "I already—" I clear my throat, waiting a second before I can speak again. "I betrayed you before. I hurt you, and I'm just supposed to let you trust me again?"

He tenses up, free hand creeping to the scar on his stomach. For a second I think he'll listen to my reason and run far, far away.

But of course, he only leans in to whisper into my ear. "Can I be honest?"

I turn to face him, barely meeting his eyes as I nod.

"I don't think you get to choose who I trust. If I choose to trust a reformed insurrectionist, my old friend, then that's my choice to make." He smooths a thumb soothingly over the top of my knee. "Not yours."

Gods, it is so hard to argue with him when he makes points on autonomy and choice, especially when he doesn't just describe me as his old friend. He acknowledges my part in the Scattering. Not just our old bond, the one that burned up when I entered the Kiln. Now, he seems eager to fashion a new one, bind it around his neck like a leash, and lovingly loop the other end around my fingers.

I now wrap those same fingers around his hand, press it to my mouth, and just breathe his scent in through my nose. He looks at me through indigo lashes, surprise melting into understanding while I hold his hand there and plant soft kisses across each knuckle. With each peck, I think about the metaphors we must illustrate. An angel kissing a demon's hand, each of us an ironic picture of the subjective concepts called "good" and "evil." Though I don't honestly think any being can truly fall into one of these made-up categories, this moment is something I am tempted to call "good" ; I'm really, selfishly glad I don't get to choose who he trusts.

Pleasant and right, happening against my every expectation, my lips move to my identity symbol inked into his wrist. I pause, cradling his hand and looking down at the circle. A dark crescent and three eight-pointed stars rest shaded inside it, and eight outward facing triangles, representing beams of light, radiate from the circle's outline.

He chose this representation of myself?

I know he could have chosen to have the same symbol marked through with an X, like mine was after I entered the Kiln. To take the penance mark would have likely been encouraged, as keeping the old symbol may have looked like support of those who made the Scattering possible. He could have been mistrusted himself, by not taking a mark that would disappear if I ever left the Kiln of my own volition.

Yet, he didn't. Maybe naïvely, he chose the me he knew and loved. The being he trusted I would live to be again. Or, if not that, then he chose the being he would see come out of the Kiln and learn about anew.

Gods, he really chose me in every possible way, didn't he?

So I thank him. In my mind, of course, because to say it aloud would be like a cat baring it's stomach, but I do. With every kiss, every breath I let him steal, I'm practically praying. "You chose me. You are such a picture of hope. I wish I could emulate you, but I wasn't made for such a life as that. You were. You are so, so good, and I hope these ministrations will tell you that more eloquently than I ever could. Let these stumbling, hesitant lips be good for something, just this once. You are good you are good you are good..."

Somehow my mouth has reached his shoulder, his neck, then his cheek. I almost laugh. How fitting it is, for me to move almost in reverse of the expected operations and meet his lips last. Luci doesn't mind though. He merely parts his lips, ready to receive life or death from my tongue.

For better or for worse, I give it to him.

I've heard kisses described as bruising, and I think now, more than ever before, I understand why. The pressure of our teeth and tongues feels painful and good and lasting. My hand almost travels on its own to the back of Luci's head to pull him closer to me, and he only seals his destruction by leaning into the action. His hands move up to my choker, tugging at it so suddenly my breath catches.

What can I do but laugh softly at our falling into this old, slightly sadistic rhythm? The one seen in his gentle nips to my shoulder, to my claws digging into his flesh, and all the tender shows of violence we allowed ourselves when sparring in the Interim. To kiss him like this feels like a natural continuation of the song we've been singing for millenia.

Then he's holding me in the nest, pulling a weighted blanket over our laps while I lay curled up on his chest. I'm not sure when we stopped kissing, but I don't mourn the cessation since neither I nor Luci would do much more than cuddle if given the chance. Being in his arms, with his wings encompassing us, I feel ok and safe enough to rest. I absently notice him whispering "thank you" into my hair before I drift off, and I'm struck by how out of place it seems. He is thanking me when I have so much to thank him for. When I wake up,I resolve to show him just how grateful I am.

END SCENE

SOME ART

Luci is the bald one, Oscuri is the long haired one. They have this picture posing beside a "just married" banner because on Earth their cover is that they're a married couple new to town. Luci is saying "it's perfect," in Italian ("è perfetto") and Oscuri is bickering back in Italian saying "it's not perfect, it's stupid!" ("Non è perfetto, è stupido!")

Here's Oscuri mentally breaking down just chilling magically

NOTE ON IDENTITY SYMBOLS: it's basically unique to every spirit in The Interim, kind of like a thumbprint. Keeping someone else's identity symbol is like getting their name tattooed on you, except it can be removed or changed as the wearer and identity change. Putting an X through it is like saying "I'm not abandoning our old relationship, but it's not the same as it was." This usually happens for those put in the Kiln, as it's traditionally seen as a temporary step back or taking a break.

END NOTES

So much stuff about this book annoys the fuck out of me (so that I dnfed it today after about 150 pages because argh despite the fact I read it like three times already). Like the way Clarissa gets treated especially in the beginning, the way Alisa and the other Vamalia get put down so often?, the way it and the characters just feel so different compared to the other books in a way that I can't even name—all I know is that they're different—,the misogyny?? (if you can put it that way), that the multi layered narrative with Bram, Latona, etc is gone (I miss them, alright?) and that fuckass ending that leaves more questions than it resolves SINCE FUCKING 2013!!

And then there are parts I adore. Like Clarissa's arc to self-acceptance as a vampire and her bond with Nicoletta, Nicoletta as a character in general, her relationship to Tammo even though her being turned into a vampire that young will make it creepy in a few years, the fact that Anna Christina gets space to develop, the group dynamic of what is left of our main five + Tammo, Hindrik, Clarissa and Anna (who I all dearly love and its cool to have a new set of characters). Then the fact that aliseo are married (I mean, yes!) and that they finally actively speak about how they can love each other with all their flaws or leave it be completely (that was necessary) after their fight, that annoys the absolute shit out of me btw because there's so much blame on her primarily.

And then there's also stuff I am just not sure about entirely. Like Clarissa's and Luciano's ending being all lovey dovey after all. I just don’t know how to feel about this.

This book is sending me mixed signals, and it's so bad that I don't consider it fully canon. Like some parts of it, maybe but definitely not everything! It will never have a star rating because idk!! It's not five stars. It's also not one star, but what it is in-between that? No fucking clue!

It's definitely a die erben der nacht book in the literal sense, but for me personally, it's not a ✨️die erben der nacht book✨️. Do you understand what I mean?

And yes, I know that this may sound like me just using the stuff I like and leaving out the rest that I don't on a subjective level, but I don't really care tbh. Vyrad has a round ending, Oscuri is nice to have, but it wouldn't have been necessary to write it because the academy story is through.

I get that some things just lingered at the end of Vyrad that were unresolved, like the thing with Clarissa and the Nosferas that was actually in Oscuri (which was one of the parts I do like about the book, especially in the end where she has Nicoletta and therefore kind of a way to the Vamalia) and that Ivy stuff, but that was actually made worse by the Oscuri ending compared to the end of Vyrad.

So idk. For me personally, the series spans books 1 - 5. Pyras, Dracas, and Vyrad are the peak of vampire YA literature and Oscuri, the probably most complicated and two-faced book of all, is optional and will forever leave me riddling and racking my brain if I like it or not and if it should be considered canon or not. Yes, it is, but actually, it also isn't!