#hello darknes

[artverso]

Paolo Rivera - Hello Darkness

[smerac-archive]

MUSEO DE HISTORIA NATURAL DE BERNA ( #009 ) , invitados a una actividad de maquillaje, @h4njae debe pintar el rostro de sumer como el de un animal.

un poco rendida, exhala despacio, plantandose frente a contrario. al menos era alguien de su equipo.⠀❛ ¿eres... buen dibujante? ❜⠀

[unabashegirl]

Vicious 11 — mafia hs

After his father's death, Harry Styles must take control of the family mafia while dealing with his unpredictable brother, Silas. He meets Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, and learns about their arranged marriage.

Author's note: Hello everyone! Here is a new chapter. Y/N and Harry already got married on Patreon! We are on chapter 19 over there.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the rest of the chapters, various one shots and much more :)

word count: 3.3K

---> vicious masterlist <----

Y/N had started drifting off into an uneasy sleep, her mind filled with worries and fears. She had been waiting for Charlie to come down to see her, to bring her some relief from the darkness and loneliness of the dungeon. But he never came.

As the hours ticked by, her hope dwindled and despair crept in. She felt abandoned, betrayed even. Charlie was her last link to any form of kindness in this place, and his absence made her believe the worst.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she curled up on the hard, cold floor. The chains around her wrists and ankles chafed and rubbed against her skin, adding to her discomfort. She cried silently, the tears slipping down her cheeks as she tried to stifle her sobs.

The thought that Harry might have caught Charlie trying to help her terrified her. She imagined the consequences, the punishment that both Charlie and she would face. The fear gripped her heart like a vice, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, both physically and emotionally. She felt battered and sore, every muscle in her body aching from the strain of being chained for so long. Her father's punishments had been severe, but they had never been this prolonged.

In the darkness of the dungeon, surrounded by cold stone walls and the echoing sound of her own sobs, Y/N felt utterly alone. She longed for the comfort of a warm bed, for the simple pleasure of being able to stretch out her legs without the chains restricting her movements.

But most of all, she longed for freedom. The freedom to walk outside in the sunlight, to feel the wind in her hair and the grass beneath her feet.

Y/N's fitful sleep was abruptly interrupted by the creak of the dungeon door. Her heart pounded in her chest, fear coursing through her veins. She prayed silently that it was Charlie and not one of Harry's men sent to bring her more pain.

With trembling hands, she pushed herself up from the cold, hard ground, her eyes fixed on the door. Slowly, cautiously, she crawled towards the wall farthest from the entrance, her movements barely making a sound against the stone floor. Every nerve in her body was on edge as she listened to the approaching footsteps.

The sound grew louder, closer, echoing in the dimly lit dungeon. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she strained to make out the figure that appeared in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N's voice was sharp, laced with both surprise and apprehension as she saw Harry's face emerge from the shadows. It wasn't Charlie. Her demeanor turned cold and distant, instinctively moving further away from him as he slowly unlocked the door and entered the dimly lit room.

Harry stood in the doorway, his gaze locked on Y/N's form huddled in the corner. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way her body tensed as he approached. It unsettled him, the realization that she was genuinely scared of him. Harry couldn't comprehend the swirling emotions within him. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? For Y/N to fear him, to cower before him. But now, as he looked at her huddled form in the corner, her eyes wide with fear, he couldn't shake the twinge of regret that twisted in his gut.

The sight of her, so vulnerable and scared, made something ache deep within him. He had never wanted to be the source of her fear, to see the terror in her eyes directed at him. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that lurked within him, the same darkness that had driven her to try and escape.

As he stood there, watching her tremble in the dim light of the dungeon, Harry felt a surge of guilt wash over him. Guilt for the way he had treated her, for the harsh punishments he had inflicted. Guilt for the way he had made her feel.

"I came to talk," Harry said, his voice surprisingly gentle compared to the anger that usually simmered beneath the surface. He took a few slow steps into the room, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him move closer. She tried to steady her breathing, to keep her voice steady. "Talk about what?" she managed to say, though her throat felt tight with anxiety.

Harry paused, his expression unreadable for a moment. "About why you tried to escape," he replied, his voice low and steady.

Y/N's eyes flickered with a mix of defiance and fear. "I don't owe you any explanations," she retorted, her voice sharper than intended.

Harry's jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. "You do when your actions could have serious consequences," he countered, his tone firm.

She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. "I just... I couldn't stay here," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not after what happened with Silas."

Harry understood exactly what she was alluding to. He had shown himself to be a man of violence, impatience, and a dangerously short temper. He had made it clear that he didn't care about familial ties when it came to obedience. Everyone, even family, had to bend to his will.

As he stood there, facing Y/N's wary gaze, however he didn’t fell shame. That’s how he was, and he wasn’t going to change for anyone.

"I know what you think of me," Harry said, his voice low and commanding. "And frankly, I don't care."

Y/N watched him closely, her expression guarded but also defiant. The fear in her eyes only seemed to fuel his resolve.

"I won't apologize for who I am," Harry continued, his tone unwavering. "I am the master of this house, and my word is law. You will do as I say, or face the consequences."

He could see the flash of anger in Y/N's eyes, the defiance that burned beneath the surface. Harry relished in it, the challenge she presented.

"I don't expect your forgiveness," Harry stated, his voice cold and authoritative. "But I do expect your obedience."

Y/N's jaw tightened, her gaze narrowing at his words. She was a fighter, he could see that clearly. But Harry was not one to back down from a challenge.

"Now," Harry said, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "I suggest you start cooperating. It will make things much easier for both of us."

He stood there for a moment, considering whether to question her about Giana. However, he quickly dismissed the idea. The last thing he needed was for Y/N to grow anxious and attempt another escape.

"Let's get you out of those," Harry said, his voice low and commanding as he gestured towards the chains that bound her wrists.

Y/N eyed him warily, her gaze never leaving his as he approached. She could feel the tension crackling in the air between them, the palpable sense of danger that surrounded Harry.

As he reached her, Harry deftly unlocked the chains, the sound of metal clinking against metal echoing in the dimly lit room. Y/N rubbed her sore wrists as the chains fell away, the relief of having her hands free washing over her.

"Stand up," Harry ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing at him. She didn't trust him, not for a second. But she also knew she had no choice but to comply. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the cold, stone floor, her muscles protesting the sudden movement.

Harry watched her intently, his gaze never leaving her as she stood before him. He could see the defiance in her eyes, the fire that burned within her. It both intrigued and infuriated him.

Without a word, Harry reached out and grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not harsh. He led her towards the door, his steps purposeful and determined. Y/N followed reluctantly, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and defiance.

As they reached the door, Harry paused and turned to face her. His eyes bore into hers, a silent warning lingering in the air between them.

"Remember," Harry said, his voice low and menacing. "Disobedience will not be tolerated."

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. She nodded curtly, her jaw clenched in defiance.

"Good," Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's go."

Y/N wasted no time as she hurried upstairs to her bedroom, the need for a long, hot shower pressing on her. She closed the door behind her with a heavy sigh, the weight of the past few days settling heavily on her shoulders.

In the privacy of her room, she shed her clothes with haste, the memories of the dungeon still fresh in her mind. The cold, damp stone beneath her feet, the chains that bound her wrists, the oppressive darkness that surrounded her... She shuddered involuntarily, pushing the thoughts away as she stepped into the warmth of the shower.

The hot water cascaded over her body, soothing her aching muscles and washing away the grime and fear that clung to her skin. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the steam fill the small space as she allowed herself a moment of respite.

With trembling hands, she reached for the soap, lathering it over her skin in quick, desperate motions. She scrubbed at her arms and legs, trying to rid herself of the feeling of being trapped, of being at Harry's mercy.

As the water turned cooler, Y/N reluctantly stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a plush towel. She stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with hollow eyes. She was skinnier and paler than before.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she reached for the hairdryer. The familiar hum of the dryer filled the room as she worked to tame her wet locks, the rhythmic sound soothing in its monotony.

Finally, Y/N felt a semblance of normalcy returning to her. She dressed in fresh clothes, the soft fabric a comfort against her skin. With a sigh, she sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind still reeling from the events of the day.

But for now, in the quiet of her room, she allowed herself a moment of peace. The hot shower had washed away the physical remnants of her ordeal, leaving her feeling more human, more herself.

With a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, letting the stillness of the room envelop her. She would need her strength for whatever lay ahead, but for now, she simply allowed herself to rest.

"Basically, Gianna and Augusto’s marriage is arranged," Charlie explained to Harry as he laid out the information in front of him. The room was filled with the tense air of revelations, the weight of secrets finally coming to light. "Augusto is Federico’s supplier of cocaine and estasis. Without him, Federico doesn’t have enough stash to sell in Italy."

Harry listened intently, his gaze fixed on the papers before him, his mind racing with the implications of what he was hearing. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, revealing a darker, more intricate web than he had ever imagined.

"And who is Gianna?" Harry asked, his voice low and measured as he took a drag of his cigarette. It had been days since Y/N had been released from the dungeon, and the image of her sitting alone outside, lost in her thoughts, haunted him.

"She is Y/N’s best friend," Lex chimed in, his tone serious. "But we haven’t found much about her family. We just know that she has always been by Y/N’s side, ever since they were little."

Harry’s brow furrowed as he processed the information. The connection between Giana, Y/N, and Augusto was becoming clearer, painting a picture of alliances and loyalties that ran deep.

"So, Augusto is Federico’s key to the drug trade in Italy," Harry mused aloud, his mind working overtime to piece together the implications. "And Y/N and Gianna were planning an escape."

Charlie nodded, his expression grave. "It seems that way. We found messages between them, discussing their plans. Giana is trying to escape from Augusto and Y/N is trying to help her”

"He's apparently a real twat. I wonder why Federico would basically sell his almost second daughter to someone like that man," Lex questioned, a frown creasing his brow. "That is what Giana is to him. They've been inseparable since they were three. He knows her just as much as he knows Y/N."

"The same reason why Y/N is here. For power," Harry responded, his voice low and tinged with bitterness. "The finger must belong to Giana. Augusto probably caught her too and knows that Y/N is here. The finger is a warning."

Lex's eyes flickered down to the pictures from the other Italian woman, the weight of the situation settling heavily in the room. The silent acknowledgment between the men spoke volumes, a shared understanding of the dangerous game they were now entangled in.

"Then he knows that you are engaged to Y/N. Why would he send something like this to you?" Charlie asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. "It was addressed to you, not to Y/N."

Harry chuckled darkly, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily around him. "He just wants to intimidate," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I am not worried."

The nonchalance in Harry's voice didn't quite match the tension in the room. Charlie exchanged a glance with Lex, the unspoken question lingering in the air: Should they be worried?

"Anyway, we should head over to the club. There are a few things that aren’t adding up," Harry said, rising from his seat. "Get the cars ready," he instructed, slipping his gun into his pants and gathering the rest of his things before making his way downstairs.

Just as he was about to leave the house, that's when he heard her voice.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing at the top of the stairs. Y/N was dressed in a lovely flowered long dress, her hair elegantly styled up.

"I’ve got some business to take care of," Harry replied, looking up at her. "Why?"

"What sort of business?" she inquired as she descended a few steps.

"Strip club," he said, the corner of his lips quirking up in a slight smirk. He knew she wouldn't be keen on the idea. “Do you want to go?” Harry asked jokingly knowing that she would say no. She wasn’t the type of woman to visit such places regularly.

"What are we waiting for?" Lex asked, entering the house and searching for Harry.

"Yeah. Let me just change!" Y/N suddenly exclaimed, surprising Harry. She turned on her heel and headed to her bedroom to swap her outfit for something more fitting for the occasion.

Harry watched with surprise as Y/N disappeared into her room to change. He hadn't expected her to agree to join them at the strip club. He exchanged a glance with Lex, both of them equally taken aback by her sudden change of heart.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lex muttered under his breath, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Looks like we're in for an interesting night," he remarked, a sense of anticipation building within him.

A few minutes later, Y/N emerged from her room, the dress Y/N had chosen hugged her curves provocatively, with a dangerously plunging neckline and three daring cutouts below her bust line. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in loose waves, a stark contrast to the elegant updo she had worn earlier. Completing the ensemble were a small black purse and lace-up high heels that added to the allure.

Harry's eyes widened as he took in her outfit, a mixture of surprise and disapproval crossing his features. "Absolutely not," he stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You aren't leaving this house wearing that."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression defiant as she crossed her arms. "And why not?" she challenged, her voice tinged with a hint of rebellion.

Harry stepped closer to her, his gaze intense as he looked her up and down. "Because it's too revealing," he replied, his tone firm. "I won't have you parading around like that."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with frustration. "It's just a dress," she retorted, her voice tinged with defiance. "And besides, it's not like we're going to church ."

Harry narrowed his eyes, his jaw tensing as he fought to control his temper. "I don't care where we're going," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not going out in public dressed like that." He wasn’t blind. Harry was acutely aware of Y/N's allure, her beauty undeniable as she sat beside him at the club. The way her dress hugged her curves, the hint of mischief in her eyes—it was enough to turn heads and raise eyebrows.

As they watched the dancers on stage, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness. The thought of someone else looking at her, desiring her, made his blood boil. The last thing he wanted was to get into a fight because some idiot couldn't keep his eyes to himself.

Harry narrowed his eyes, his jaw tensing as he fought to control his temper. "I don't care where we're going," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not going out in public dressed like that."

Y/N's gaze hardened, her chin lifting defiantly. "And who are you to tell me what I can and can't wear?" she shot back, her voice rising in anger.

Y/N was acutely aware that she was stepping into Harry's arena once more. She understood the power he held over her, the ability to confine her to the dark depths of the dungeon at his whim. But she refused to yield on this.

The dress she chose was a silent defiance, a rebellion against his control. It was a statement of her autonomy, a declaration that she would not be dictated to, even in the matter of her attire.

No, she wouldn't allow Harry—or anyone—to dictate what she could and couldn't wear. This was her choice, her body, her freedom.

Harry took a step closer, his body towering over hers as he looked down at her. "I'm the one in charge here," he stated, his voice low and commanding. "And I won't have you disrespecting me."

There was a moment of tense silence between them, the air crackling with the intensity of their confrontation. Y/N held her ground, her eyes locked with his in a battle of wills.

Finally, Harry let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "Fine," he conceded, his tone grudging. "But if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, we're leaving."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Deal," she replied, her voice laced with challenge.

---> vicious 12

[cosmic-spider]

Trying to get in

Poppy playtime fem reader x smiling creatures sweet home au

— — — — — — — — — —

After a week of meeting up Bobby and thinking things over. I have decided to take up Bobby’s offer. She told me that it would take a few days to get it the more important toys of her town to look over the idea.

After three days I went over to the field again. As I waited for Bobby I then noticed something off in the distance of some hills off in the distance.

Before I could get up to go and see what it was. Bobby showed up. She told me that the higher up toys said that you would need to have a meeting with me first before they can completely think the idea over.

I told her that I was ok with it. She then told me that I would need to be blindfolded as well as cared. So that the location of there town will stay hidden. I said ok as long as nothing scary happened.

Bobby then took out a small scarf as she then put it on me as a makeshift blindfold. She then picked me up. I think it was bridal style.

Either way she picked me up. She told me to stay calm, and relax since she was now taking me to the meeting area.

As Bobby cared me we made small talk. She told me about her friends. How she would like me to meet them.

After I guess about ten minutes I hear the sound of Bobby opening a door. When I asked she said where in the office building.

As she then continued to walk she then opens another door. Then placed me down on a chair.

Telling me that the other toys will come into the room in a bit. As well as to not be afraid since she will be right in the room next door waiting for me.

— — — — — — — — — —

I only sat down in the chair I was in with my hands on my lap. As I took some calmed breathes as try to calm my self down a bit.

After a few minutes I then hear the sound of the door opening from my right. After a bit I hear something like metal clinking and clanking agents each other.

I then feel the blindfold being pulled off my face. As my eyes adjusted to the light of the room. I see that only half of the room is lit up since the lite was right on top of we’re I was.

I then look into the darkness in front of me only to see a metal hand. It looked to be made out of metal, wires, as well as having a bit of bones at the wrist area.

Uh…hello? I said nervously as I looked at the hand then into the darkens of the other side of the room.

Hello human

A voice called out as it echoed a bit in the room. It was calm at the same time I felt like what we it was it was watching my every move.

I’ve been sent here to talk with someone. Is that you? I asked as i tilted my head as I looked into the darknes of the room.

Yes, that is right. I’m the one you came to meet with.

Ok then it’s nice to meet you um—

Prototype. My name is the prototype.

Nice to meet you s-sir.

The hand then pulled back into the shadows. Then it came back into view with a packet of papers plus a clipboard with papers. Being held out with only two of its long fingers.

Here. Take the clipboard first.

As I take the clipboard as I then get see a pen attached to the side of it. Ok then. What do you want to ask me?

Well you can fill out the papers on the clipboard. As I ask a few things about you?

Sure I don’t mind. Ask a-away. I told him as I then started to read the papers and fill them out.

What other job did you have before?

Well I’ve been a part time teacher helper and have worked in a daycare before that. I-I’ve also work at food and desserts shops. I even had a at home flower shot for sometime.

I said to the unknown figure. As I continued to fill out the paper now flipping it over to the back.

Ok then what job did your parents have?

Oh um I don’t know. I’ve never had parents I was raised by my grandmother. But she had a bakery.

Ok then. You pass the first text now onto the second. What do you know about this place your trying to get into?

Well I don’t know much but Bobby Barehug told me that it’s very big town. T-That everyone is very nice. That I can find a job here and get along with e-everyone.

I answered as I then finished the paper and re-flipped it over to the front side. And pushed the clipboard over to them.

The hand then took the clipboard into the darkness. I hear as they look throw the paper. As I hear the paper being flipped over to the back. Then reflowed to be on the front again.

Oh then everything looks good. I’m going to discuss this with others. So it may take a while to get you and answer. So in the mean time you can fill out this packet.

The prototype said as there hand pushed the packet of paper over to to me.Ok then I’ll be waiting for your response then.

Bobby you can come in now.

The door then opened showing Bobby at the entrance. Hi BB

Hi y/n. She softy wavered at me as she got into the room.

The meeting is over now. You can take her back to the filed.

Ok then.Bobby said as she then got the blindfolded back and then started to put it around my eyes again.

She then picked me up again now with only one hand. The door being opened was then heard.

But before Bobby could start walking I spoke. Good bye prototype. It was nice meeting you.

The prototype didn’t respond as Bobby then started to walk.

After a bit of silent walking Bobby picked me up and placed my feet on the ground. As she then took of the blindfold.

As my eyes adjusted to the light I then turned around to see she had a worried face.

What’s wrong BB?

I’m just a little nervous on what his answer is going to be. She then started to play with the end of her sweater.

I then went up to her taking her hand and holding them in mine. Well as best as I could with her’s coving my whole hands.

Hey it’s ok BB I’m sure everything will be fine. And if I don’t get the ok to get in then we can just keep meeting up here.

Well it’s almost 5 pm. I have to go home i will be back next Friday with this packet filed out. Hopefully the prototype has an answer by then.

I then gave her a hug and started to walk across the field back to my car.

If only it can be that simple.

@asamary

[yazanalanqar]

Palestine is an ancient land located in the heart of the Middle East, renowned throughout history for its natural beauty, cultural diversity, and deep historical significance 🌍. It is the birthplace of the three monotheistic religions: Islam, Christianity, and Judaism . Since 1948, the Palestinian people have endured displacement and hardship due to the ongoing conflict, with hundreds of thousands forced to leave their homes 🏠💔. Their lands have been divided and occupied, creating a continuous humanitarian crisis 🛑. Despite all these challenges, Palestinians remain steadfast, holding onto their land and history, living in hope for peace and the return to their beloved homes and cities 🕊️🏡.

My name is Mohammad Taysir Al-Naqr, and I am 34 years old. My wife Basma, who is 27, and my young children, Jude, four years old, and Yazan, three years old, are my dearest treasures 💖. I used to work as a mobile app developer 💻📱, doing everything I could to provide my family with a decent life. But the war stripped me of my job, and now, we are without any source of income in these harsh times 😔💔.

Our home crumbled under heavy bombing, and we were forced to flee to the southern part of the Gaza Strip, carrying with us the trauma of shattered memories and the pain of parting from the life we once knew 🏚️💔. Now, we live in an old school 🏫, crowded with other families who share our sorrow and dream of one day returning to our homes 🏡🙏.

Without clean water or enough food 🚰🍞, we live each day with bitterness and fear 😢. I have nothing to offer Jude except hope, and nothing for my wife but patience 🌱💔. The sound of bombing feels as if it has become a part of our daily conversation 💥, it seeps into my children's dreams, causing them to shiver not only from the cold but from the nightmares of this relentless war 🥶💔.

I try to hold onto hope and find someone who can extend a helping hand 🤲. My family deserves a better life, and my young children deserve to sleep in safety, far from the sounds of bombing and the cold darkness of the school 🕯️🏫. Here, we struggle to survive, clinging to the possibility of a compassionate touch that could bring back some warmth to our lives, putting cozy blankets over my little children's bodies 🛏️❤️.

In these difficult circumstances, my only hope is to secure the basic needs for my family 🕊️💖. I appeal to those with kind hearts to consider helping us, whether through donations or by sharing our story 🙏. Any support or sharing can make a big difference in my children’s lives, bringing a glimmer of hope into our darkn

ess 🌟🌈.

[dapandapod]

How I would kiss you

Hello there! Remember this drabble? yes it's from 2022, yes it got finished in 2024! Formatting is a pain on tumblr and i'm tired, but here is soem of the good stuff, pulled out from the fic itself! :))) Read the entire thing on Ao3 here! Please enjoy!

After an hour or so, Jaskier gives up, and is in the middle of changing into his sleeping clothes when Geralt returns. He startles when the door opens, standing shirtless and feeling strangely vulnerable when Geralt locks eyes with him.

They stand there just for a beat too long, Jaskier with his arms still in the tunic he was taking off, Geralt's eyes dipping just the once to roam over his chest. Nothing he's not seen before but this feels different.

"Did you win?" he asks, Geralt finally stepping properly into the room and turning to his own bed and his own pack.

"Two out of three. That last woman had a mean deck."

Jaskier will not pretend to understand the language of Gwent, so he nods and rummages for his sleeping tunic. A soft, worn out thing, a tunic that once was light blue now so faded it looks a soft gray.

When his night time routine is done, Jaskier sits down on his bed and watches Geralt. It's almost tradition, waiting for the other to be properly done before tucking in.

It also gives Jaskier a wonderful view of that wonderful witcher body, dimples on his lower backs, muscles on his shoulders rippling under the skin as he slowly puts his sleep wear on. Very...slowly.

Geralt throws a look over his shoulder, catching Jaskier staring. Normally he would wink, but now all he does is blush and look away.

Fuck.

They talk a little about their traveling plans, about rumors of a nest of foglets two days away. As soon as their laundry is done, they will be on their way. Meaning, there will hopefully be a rare chance to sleep in, despite cruel witcher habits, and as soon as

Jaskier mentions it teasingly, Geralt gives him a fond smile.

This is not good.

They settle into their respective beds, Jaskier's heart aching in his chest. He lies staring up at the ceiling, an echo of yesterday, but without the tent and without the rain.

"You came back early today," Geralt says on the other side of the dark room. "Were they no good?"

Jaskier sucks on his lower lip. Now that Geralt has mentioned it, it’s even harder to stop, desperately wanting it to be Geralt sucking on it instead.

"Not bad. Just..... eager."

Neither says anything for a long moment, and Jaskier belatedly realizes something. Maybe Geralt was slow redressing on purpose. Maybe... maybe he isn't the only one thinking about this so much it hurts.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaskier does what he does best. He blurts out what's on his mind.

"I think you were right."

The darknes is quiet, somehow more quiet than before he opened his fucking idiot mouth.

"I'm always right," Geralt mutters, making Jaskier huff out a nervous laugh. "What about?"

Well.

Here we are.

"I think you have me figured out. I would want you to kiss me like that."

Not 'to be’ kissed like that. He wants Geralt to kiss him like that.

He can hear nothing but the hammering in his chest, the blood whooshing in his ear, and he realizes he is holding his breath.

"Told you so," Geralt says, and he really doesn't make this easy for Jaskier, does he?

Bastard.

".....Would you?" Jaskier says quietly, feeling every insecure inch of his heart bared.

There is another silence, and then there is movement on the other side, and Jaskier holds his breath again. Rustling of the blanket, footsteps so quiet, Jaskier is afraid he is imagining it. Then the bed dips as Geralt sits down.

Jaskier can't see much, just the dark outline against an even darker room, but Geralt surely can read the longing on his face, hear his strained breathing, his hoping heart.

"You want me to? Now?" Geralt whispers, and Jaskier nods eagerly.

Hot hands grab his, slowly guiding them upwards. The bed dips again, jostling Jaskier, and suddenly he is straddled, thighs on both sides of his, holding him in place.

"You sure?" Geralt whispers, leaning over him, fingers sliding over Jaskier's palm as he pins them over his head.

"Only if you want it too," Jaskier dares, sensing Geralt slowly leaning over him.

"I keep thinking about it," Geralt murmurs, his breath hitting Jaskier's face. "Just like this."

His grip tightens around Jaskier's wrists, thighs tensing as their weight shifts. Geralt is leaning over him on his elbow, holding him in place.

"Last chance, bard," Geralt warns him, and Jaskier full body shivers.

[merakilii]

Mera's Masterlist

Hello lovelies! Call me Mera <3

I started writing around freshmen high school and decided to do it whenever I want to escape reality. So, join me, would you?

AO3 | known as Merakili Most of my uploads are on AO3 but will upload here in the future as well. I write with an afab reader but i don't write much descriptions for her. No smut usually, until stated otherwise.

Simon Riley X Reader

The Lieutenant Next Door (Completed // Civilian Reader)

Words: 138,079 // 25 Chapters

In a quiet apartment building, two neighbours lead seemingly different lives. One is a reserved lieutenant, shrouded in mystery and burdened by his past, while the other is you, a curious woman navigating the ups and downs of daily life. Though your interactions are sparse, with fleeting glances and near-missed opportunities for connection, you wondered if there was more to the man you called your neighbour. The days unfold and the distance between you both blurs, hinting at the potential for something deeper amidst the silence of your shared walls.

Safe Among Wildflowers (Completed // Cowboy Gunslinger Ghost x Rancher Reader AU)

Words: 59,107 // 11 Chapters

"If faith could be made flesh, if it could walk and breathe and laugh, it would be you." In the vast meadows of Kentucky, you live alone on your small ranch. One day, a lone gunslinger, battered and weary, rides up to your home and collapses at your feet. For some reason, your heart made you bring him inside, tending to his wounds. In your care, he finds a reason to live again, swearing to stay by your side and give his life to you, even if you didn't know it yet.

Extras

A Worthy Suitor (Masterlist // Ongoing // Knight Simon x Princess Reader // Includes Smut)

John MacTavish X Reader

Bound by the Tide (Masterlist // Ongoing // Pirate AU // Includes Smut)

In the ruthless waters of the 18th-century British Isles, two pirate captains have played a dangerous game of cat and mouse for years. Captain John "Soap" Mactavish, the devil-may-care scourge of the seas, and you, a fiery, cunning rival who lost everything when the British Navy reduced your ship to splinters. But when Mactavish pulled you from the wreckage, saving a life you would've gladly let sink, the currents of your hatred shifted into uncharted waters. The sea gives no quarter and trust is a currency too rare to spend.

Miscellaneous projects

Summoner's Folly (Darkiplier x reader // God Of Darknes AU // completed // Includes smut)

Words: 49,661 // 16 Chapters

An affluent wedding with no partner to attend it with. You roll the dice on the chance that perhaps bringing forth a forgotten god to the mortal world after centuries of not being called upon would not be that bad, especially if he's a handsome one, that is. But as soon as you see him menacingly looking down at you, you realize that maybe asking Dark for a date was a bad idea.

[antennas-to-heaven]

Help my family save themselves from hunger

Hello, I'm Ayoub from Gaza. I know asking for donations isn't easy. I now support an entire family. We live in an unbelievable famine; we wake up and go to bed hungry. We don't have money to buy food; it's incredibly expensive.

We need to buy vegetables and flour. 🙏😭

A small donation from you makes a huge difference in our lives. With your donation, you could save a family from death.

Thank you for standing by us during this difficult time. 🇵🇸🙏

please share and donate if you can!

[withdrco]

important thing in this chapter 39!!! acme of darknness

Lorelei and Mary interactions!!!

"You're less proud when you're alone!" continued Mary, her piercing gaze on Lorelei. Lorelei, focused on the potion, mixed the beetles until they got a bright red color. "Then your performance on Halloween, as if by chance, it's a pure blood who makes the big show. Hello originality...'' "Be careful!" suddenly cried Lorelei, grabbing Mary's hand in the air. The latter opened her eyes wide, getting up from her chair. "What are you doing?" Mary yelled, attracting the attention of the other students. Nerissa turned her head in astonishment, while Lorelei, a little red, tugged at Mary's hand to make her sit down. ''You were going to hit the next ingredient...'' whispered Lorelei, gently releasing Mary's hand. "It would have stained your uniform... and it doesn't go well in the wash...'' Mary, surprised, stared at Lorelei without saying a word. The tension between them was palpable. "Are you okay, Lore?" asked Nerissa discreetly, worried. "Yes, thank you Rissa, it's all good!" replied Lorelei with a smile, looking away. She returned to her work, but Mary continued to stare at her, still troubled by the unexpected contact. ''You...'' began Mary, hesitantly. "What?" asked Lorelei, turning to her. "No, nothing!" replied Mary curtly, crossing her arms, but a glimmer of curiosity danced in her eyes.

[twigattheendoftheroad]

Hello… TWIGFIELD! *dun-dun-duuuun*

*chanting quietly* please don’t be as poker faced as Frost, please don’t be as poker faced as Frost, pl-

"DARKNES.. PERIL.. ANGUISH... I'M A CREATURE WHO MUST FEEEEEED-" "oh hai! i was messin with the plastic teeth tsorf gave me as a present :3"

[askhollow]

Vesta: What do we have here? A trickster stealing treats? Or something else? Do you have a name? I don't mind chatting if you'll allow me to.

*Glowing magenta eyes appear in the pitch black darknes. They soon emerge, along with the rest of the creature. The pokemon creature takes a few steps out of the shadows. Their large tail swishes back and forth slowly. The mon swivels their head around.. Finally then sniffing the air- And looking down upon Vesta. The mon stretches their large paw out, grabbing at the air, until they finally place their paw on Vesta's head. The mon then retracts their paw from Vesta's shoulder.

???: "Hello.."

*The mon let's out. Their mouth however remains still- and their voice exactly mimics Vesta's.

???: "You wish to know my name, right? I am Hollow. Hollow Eve.."

Hollow: "And who might you be, oh strange fearless one?"

[@pmd-waveringfate, Vesta]

[artverso]

Bjorn Barends - Hello, Darkness

[pepperycar]

“On the loose!” Chapter 8: The Star spirits mercy -part 1

Peach and Toad were at first surprised by this, but then they realised Star Spirits May not exist in Brooklyn or the rest of the bros world. Toad finally spoke up, trying not to cry and speak clearly “They’re- they’re protectors of our world from above. They’re the ones who let wishes rest on Star Hill to let people’s wishes be granted.. they’re highly respected and VERY powerful, me and the Princess were praying they’d have mercy on him but.....” Toad trailed off as he noticed Mario’s skin grow paler and paler. Luigi pressed his forehead to Mario’s still tearful “I.. I got him.. killed..” as soon as Luigi said those words, he felt a pain in his chest, Toad behind him gently rubbing circles in his back “he saved my life.. and didn’t even know it..” he let out a choked sob as he cuddled his older brothers cold, dead body in his arms before he started to hum a little lullaby, with him gently massaging Mario’s scalp “you’re the one who understands.. the scars who made me who I am. Through the drifting sands of time, I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.. and if you should ever bare a heavy load, I’ll-I’ll be the wheels I’ll be the road.. I’ll see us through, through thick an-and t-thin.. through love.. and loss.. until the end..” Luigi pressed a kiss to Mario’s forehead before continuing “yeah you carried me with you.. f-from the h-highest of the peaks, to the darkn-ness of the bl-blue, I was just to blind to see.. like the stars in the sky, you were always guiding me, yeah.. it’s true..... you. carried. me. with. you.....” Luigi pulled him closer, holding tighter while burying his face into the crook of his neck, letting his tears fall freely. “You know..” Luigi sobbed “when we were starting our plumbing business.. Mario said that no matter what happens.. it’ll be okay because nothing could hurt us as long as we were together.. and that my love and support was enough.. but it clearly was too much.. my love for him got him killed, and when we were together, side by side.. I shouldn’t have begged to help with Bowser.. I just so desperately wanted to prove that I could be brave like him.. if he went on his own.. it would’ve-SHOULD’VE been me!” Luigi felt Peach and Toad wrap their arms around him, he then realised how much he was shaking. “Hello Princess Peach.” Said an echoey voice, Luigi jolted in surprise as he looked up to see.. stars. Seven of them, Sentient stars, though not like Lumalee, these were yellow, more straightened and even points as opposed to Lumalee, the biggest star in the middle had wrinkles and a big bushy white moustache. “Eldstar!” Peach cried as she and Toad bowed to them. Luigi remained in shock “we don’t often get wishes from royals.” Said Eldstar “however, we’d be honoured to help such a kind and loving Princess.” He Said as he bowed to her, the other six stars copying him. Luigi shot his head up “R-really?!” Luigi blubbered, now no longer caring or judging the presence and power of these star creatures “I-I’ll help! I’ll do anything!” Luigi cried “no need for that.” Said Eldstar “you all have done a great service to us time and time again, stopping that tyrant Bowser. It’s the least we could do! but..” he trialed off as he examined Mario, his heart exposed through the broken skin, literally broken with a huge gash going through it, blood and stained bits of purple soaking his chest, Eldstar hummed in thought “we may have enough power to fix his injuries, but weather he will wake up.. we can only hope.” “Do what you must!” Peach cried as tears fell down her cheeks. Eldstar nodded and signaled to the other six to gather around him, Luigi hesitantly laid him down before them, they all closed their eyes and started to hum. Soon a bright white light formed over Mario’s body and after a few tense seconds the light faded, leaving the Stars panting, visibly exhausted from using all that power. Luigi looked down, Mario’s body was completely healed but remained motionless, Luigi pressed his ear to his chest, not daring to hope.. nothing.. there was nothing.. Luigi gasped and felt his heart squeezing tight.

-To be continued.

Song from Pixar’s “Onward”

[astrojulia]

Hi this is for the game!!

My birth details are: July 31st 1991, born at 1:19am and my birth place is Cadillac Michigan USA.

The Emoji: 🐬

My question for you is: What's your favorite thing in life besides astrology?

Thank you for your awesome blog by the way!!!!!

Hello Siren! This is an ask related to my Sirentale game that is already closed! So there's no point trying to participate now, as there are no more "spaces". If there is a good interaction, I may open a new game in the future. Kisses from the Sea!

Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips

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In a distant realm where the mystical and the mundane intertwined, there resided a young adventurer named Dani. With an unwavering determination in their heart and an insatiable curiosity in their soul, Dani embarked on a journey that would rival the most captivating of fairy tales.

Dani's birth chart, a celestial masterpiece woven by the heavens themselves, narrated the tale of their life in the most enchanting manner. The Sun, akin to a radiant crown, graced the 4th house of Leo, casting a warm and illuminating glow upon Dani's path. It was amidst Leo's vibrant energy that Dani's courage and passion were ignited. From a tender age, they were schooled in the ways of royalty, learning the essence of leadership and its many facets. Whether they would use their royal prowess for benevolence or dominance remained a mystery, a story yet to unfold. Their inner and outer selves coexisted harmoniously, allowing them to effortlessly transition between the roles of a princess in distress and an indomitable dragon when the need arose. Yet, it was the fear of judgment from others that occasionally hindered them. Dani's greatest adversaries were not the external demons but those that crept into their life sporadically, casting a shadow over their heart and ego.

Beneath the dreamy Piscean moonlight, within the 11th house, Dani's emotions flowed like a tranquil river, connecting them to the collective dreams and aspirations of the world. It was this deep well of empathy and intuition that guided Dani on their quest, enabling them to grasp the hearts and desires of those they encountered. Dani's dreams were timeless, eternally present from their earliest days, be it the aspiration to be a revered queen or a valiant warrior.

Yet, it was the triumvirate of Mercury, Venus, and Mars, all residing in the analytical 5th house of Virgo, that set Dani apart. Their mind was as keen as a blade, their love meticulous, and their determination unparalleled. With the precision of a master craftsman, Dani could breathe life into their ideas and wield their passions with grace and finesse. Their social adeptness was astute, innovative, and at times intimidating, navigating countless "yeses" and "noes" along their journey, all while striving to discern what was best for themselves and society as a whole.

On a remote mountaintop, within the 10th house of Aquarius, Saturn stood as the stern yet wise overseer of Dani's destiny. Saturn presented challenges, sitting on its throne of ceaseless activity, assigning seemingly insurmountable missions that demanded trust in oneself and in others. It urged Dani to shatter conventions, compelling them to follow their own unique path. The rebellious spirit of Uranus, dwelling in the 9th house of Capricorn, echoed this sentiment, fueling Dani's thirst for adventures beyond the known horizon. As the years unfolded, Dani realized that embracing the new was essential to preserving the old, discovering the strengths and weaknesses of their rebellious nature, and witnessing the same transformative journey in their younger comrades.

And so, our intrepid hero embarked on a quest to unearth the treasures concealed within their birth chart. With Pluto's transformative influence in the 6th house of Scorpio, they were ready to confront the shadows within themselves, emerging from each trial stronger and wiser. Challenges with darkness were a daily occurrence, yet Dani met them with familiarity, as Pluto had found its place within them, an integral part of their story.

Dani's journey led them through mystical forests, across expansive deserts, and into the heart of uncharted waters. Along the way, they encountered a diverse cast of characters, as numerous as the stars in the night sky. Some became allies, drawn to the radiance of Dani's Leo Sun, while others tested their resolve, pushing them to evolve and grow.

As Dani ventured deeper into the uncharted territories of their birth chart, they unearthed the true essence of their being. They realized that their purpose wasn't merely etched in the constellations but was a living, breathing adventure waiting to be embraced.

With each revelation, Dani's spirit soared higher, their heart beat louder, and their smile radiated brighter. They welcomed the delightful surprises that life bestowed upon them, savoring the joy of self-discovery and the thrill of the unknown.

Thus, the legend of Dani, the intrepid adventurer guided by the stars, became a cherished tale in the mystical land. Their journey served as a testament to the power of embracing one's unique path, heeding the call of the heart, and uncovering the magic within their celestial tapestry.

As the sun descended on their final adventure, Dani stood on the precipice of the 10th house in Aquarius, gazing into the limitless possibilities of the cosmos. Their heart overflowed with gratitude for the enchanting odyssey that had led them to this moment, knowing that their Sirentale would inspire generations to come.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[someplace-that-is-else]

'Traces of You: Part the Second'

‘So what have you been up to?’

It had been a minute since I’ve seen Hayley, one of my favorite female bartenders. We always had a great time. And good taste in music. And just like me, she was part of the San Diego hustle, running around with multiple jobs. Since she was always on the go, it was nice to see her out for a change.

Usually, we would get caught up on what was going on in our lives. We might discuss what music concerts were going on. There was also the latest bar gossip. And most importantly, I had mentioned that I was buckling down to finish up HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES.

Ah…HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES…

After making it past the point where I usually got Writer’s Block whenever I worked on my forthcoming novel, I now had a new problem. A recurring one problem that could maybe get me to a point where I stopped writing again. And what was that problem?

Mirroring.

HELLO, MY SHADOW SELF.

In my last blog (Someplace That is... Else — 'Traces of You: Part the First' (tumblr.com) ), I mentioned that I had written a plot twist for the characters of friends Shaun and Trey. And as I wrote the aftermath, the words that I found coming out of the characters’ mouths felt awfully familiar. Of course, they did. They echoed what appeared to be going on in my current life. And that…made me put the pencil down quickly.

Or as I called it above…mirroring.

Mirroring was when you were working on something. And that something just so happened to be like what was going on around you at that moment. For me, it always made me question what was going on.

This happened when I was working on DARKCHILDE. What was central to that novel was the relationship between the main character Ebony and love interest Nicholas. I felt that I’ve done a good job setting it up in DARKNED SOUL. But in the process of deepening their ‘will-they/won’t-they’ relationship in the novel, there was a scene that was totally plot that shined a light on their relationship issues.

It was in the introduction of the character Antonio. One of the oldest Nosferatu in my series. And he was also insane. And I showed, don’t tell, his insanity. From the eccentric vibe of his apartment to his appearance to his interactions between him, Nicholas, and old friend Titania and other minor characters central to the plot, the readers got to see Antonio’s insanity on full display. Part of the main plot was who was after Ebony. And Antonio tried to narrow down suspects. In his test to figure out who…he dropped some truth about Ebony and Nicholas. And those truths felt eerily familiar in terms of a relationship I was going through at the time. I immediately jumped out of the scene.

That was nothing compared to DARKENED SOUL: JONATHAN’S TALE though. Fun fact…originally JONATHAN’S TALE was going to be the main novella in my short story collection DARKENED SOUL: PIECES OF A DARKENED PUZZLE. However, it took on a life of its own.

That was part of the reason I wanted to do a story on the vibe I felt from enigmatic Jonathan in DARKENED SOUL. I had no idea how much vibe and life was there. Jonathan being a quiet lover of books. Jonathan and his relationship with his father. Jonathan’s feelings about love and Ursula. There were so many moments where I had to pause because it felt…familiar. I wondered…was this a character that I was writing…or was it me? One scene involving Jonathan and his father had me in tears…right before a work meeting. It brought up feelings I thought I had overcome with my deceased father. Guess not.

And now there I was again with HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. It was happening again with Shaun, Trey, and the plot twist.

I managed to continue to write. That was good for me because that meant there was no Writer’s Block to worry about. It definitely gave the back half of the novel some momentum. Meanwhile, their other friends Eugene and Omar had a nice subplot going on.

BUT? HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES was supposed to be about the pitfalls of an interracial relationship. It was also about the bounds of black friendships. What I did not expect was to find my main character with not one love interest, but TWO. And given the qualities of the two guys, I found myself as indecisive as Shaun over who he should be with. Also…the qualities in the guys…was VERY familiar.

I was friends with someone. We were associates at one point. Always discussing life. We became good friends after the pandemic. Nothing like death hanging over you to make a person love the connections around them. I was no difference. He told me about his problems. And he watched me stubble through potential relationships.

And then…it got complicated.

Let’s say my friend turned out to not be immune to my charms. And I was oblivious to that fact. Until I wasn’t. It got to a point where I could no longer deal with it. Too many questions. Like how people would see us if we were to get together. Questions like was our differences even possible to manage because we both had our own beliefs that we carried around and were constantly changing. Questions like…was he worth the risk or wait?

As if seeing some of these questions being worked on with Shaun and his love interests weren’t enough, I started to notice the dialogue was getting pointed. Almost as if my characters wanted me to make up my mind about my own life. Not unlike what happened with DARKCHILDE and DARKENED SOUL: JONATHAN’S TALE.

And with all those questions whirling around in my head, it came as no surprise when it happened.

I couldn’t finish my novel. Shaun couldn’t pick between his love interests. And I…couldn’t decide on the ending.

Stuck.

THE CHOICE

Another day, another appearance at Lestat’s.

I had grown tired of being stuck. So what else could I do but write. So I figured a change of scenery might get me to come to some conclusion on how I wanted HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES to end. And goodness knows Lestat’s had good coffee.

But…nope. A few times I even got teary-eyed writing. While it was building to a head nicely, Shaun still couldn’t make up his mind. Neither could his author. Some days were better than others.

And I couldn’t help but wonder why? Was it really that hard for me because of the characters, or was it hard because it was mirroring my own life?

I thought about that Ryan Reynolds article often. I mentioned it, the one he did with Best Life. His talk about happiness as he was raising up through the acting ranks. And what kept resonating to me was so small, but so significant.

Happiness is a choice. It was a choice that most people did not make.

I didn’t want to be like most people. And I knew how much HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES was important to me. From the years I’ve been working on it. To hearing my deceased friend Mr. Moore in my head, always encouraging me. To my father who had also passed, wanting me to be doing what I dreamt of doing. To see the look on my bartender friend Matt’s face when he saw the ‘passion project’ was done…and in his hands…SIGNED.

I haven’t finished a book since 2020. And what I wanted to be doing was writing. That was what was going to make me happy. So…wasn’t it time to be done? Wasn’t it time to be happy?

So…I made my choice.

Same time tomorrow?

THE PATH FORWARD

Pure and utter chaos.

That was how I described the climax and closing chapters of HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. Rebuttals. Debates. Catfights. Fashion. The Hamptons. You would have thought it was the Real Housewives of Miami, not a gay novel. Hehe.

But then…there it was again. The very thing that I was avoiding. The ending.

I felt that I had set it up well enough. Shaun had had a moment with both of his love interests. Readers got to see the interaction. The chemistry. But the real question persisted…who would Shaun pick?

Hmm…good question. And as I sat in Lestat’s, I did not know what to say. My current personal situation blended into both love interests. Should Shaun take Offer 1 with all of its complications, or should he go for Offer 2 which would be a sure bet though it was not without its own complications? Who would make him happy? How could he choose? If his author could not pick in his current life, what were the odds that the character would pick any better?

Ryan Reynolds’s words came back to me again. So as I sat in Lestat’s, I asked myself…what would Shaun want to make him happy. After some shade, a lickback, and a run out with tears, I wrote what Shaun’s choice was. I also got to write words, I never thought I would get to.

The end.

Would readers like it? I was not sure. I was sure that I would get interesting responses. As for the traces of me in my novel…well…it was a given that that would show up in my work. I thought there were some lessons to learn from it. But as long as I trusted my intuition, it was all good.

#writing #ryanreynolds #menshealth #mirroring #mirror #sandiego #shadowself #happiness #choices #blog #ending #rhom #lestats #passionproject #paths #inspiration

[a-queer-crip-writes]

Silent Night

If I had known what was going to come afterwards - would I have done anything differently?

Yes. I think a lot of us might have.

It started with the music. There was a hush in the frozen air as the guns fell silent. Then the sound of carols being sung floated slowly across to us in the dawn mist.

A different language, of course, but a familiar tune. And even the language wasn’t so alien. I learned those words in Sunday School as a lad. I sang them with our church choir every Sunday of Advent for all the years of my boyhood before my voice broke. Before it was the language of the enemy, German was the language of Father Vessau, our old priest. I’m glad he didn’t live to see any of what came later.

It was the familiar story of the Virgin and Child, of course, but it was so perfectly still, so quiet other than the haunting voices floating across the trenches, that it seemed written for this very moment.

Perhaps that was the reason I stood up, clambered out of the trench onto the frozen mud and blood and stepped out amongst the coils of barbed wire. I waved my empty hands and yelled “Hello! Merry Christmas!” into the still air like a child going out on Christmas morning. The earth was scarred and torn up, dotted with deep pits and holes where the water had frozen into hazy cracked glass. Earth stood hard as iron; water like a stone. Even walking deliberately slowly and noisily, letting my footsteps crack and echo, I was nearly halfway across the space between our trenches in a few moments. Such a ridiculously short distance to have been an uncrossable chasm for so long.

And on the other side, someone else was doing the same. The pale sun glinted on cropped blondish curls as a young man about my own age climbed above the parapet and waved back. “Hallo! Fröhliche Weihnachten!” His pale face split in a grin as he started walking towards me, picking his way just as carefully between the coils of wire and the deep divots in the frozen earth.

We met somewhere in the middle and shook hands. He looked pale and his blue eyes were weary, but bright with strange wonder at the stillness of the day. His hands were warm, and I remember noticing he had beautiful teeth in his beautiful smile as we handed each other cigarettes and lit them, the smoke curling up in the still air.

Then my mates were coming up behind me. Bill, and Alec, and Bob, and Davey. Other men came up behind the man I was sharing a cigarette with too, appearing like spectres before coalescing into tired young men with hesitant, hopeful smiles, all touched with the same odd wonder I could feel on my own face. There were handshakes and cigarettes being passed back and forth as the sun rose and the mist cleared. Someone brought out a bottle their mother had sent them for Christmas and passed it round. The warm scent of whisky carried in the stillness on smoking breath, overlaying the old faint notes of blood and cordite still drifting on the air.

We lit a fire and stood around it, giving each other tips on how to keep it going in two different languages. People scrounged up some halfway potable water, boiled a kettle, started a brew-up. Everyone handed round sweets, more cigarettes, pieces of bread loaded luxuriously thick with jam. Someone brought out a squeezebox and someone else a trumpet and they began to play carols. Halting missed notes sounded magical in the still air. People passed around photographs of girls and children, parents and dogs. Later on, someone brought out a makeshift ball of rags and newspaper and some of the lads began to kick it about together on the frozen earth.

The thought came to me as I stood there, my hands warmed by an old tin mug with the German words on it almost unreadable under scratches and dents, that maybe we had all died at some point in the last terrible night under the incessant thumping and screaming of the guns, and this was heaven. That the burden of life and nationality had passed from us all quietly in the darkness and now we were all just men again, being simply human in the silence.

The young man whose hand I had shaken stood nearby, still smiling shyly. My schoolboy German was only sufficient for a few halting phrases, and he spoke even less English than that. His smile, however, was warm under a rather fluffy blond moustache - I sympathised; despite manful attempts to encourage it by shaving twice a day, my own upper lip was barely more than shadowed still - and his eyes, though red-rimmed with cold and fatigue, were as softly blue as the summer sky and immensely, brightly alive in his pale, chilled face. They seemed to get his point across almost by sheer force of life in them, even when words, hand gestures and pantomime failed.

His name was Mikel. He showed me a picture from the inner breast pocket of his coarse grey greatcoat - his mother, a sweet-faced, slightly stout woman with greying hair climbing softly out of two coiled braids, and their dog, a proud-eared little bull terrier, in front of a little white-walled cottage with a plum tree by the door and a mass of flowering wisteria climbing the walls. His father had died when he was small, he told me, and his mother was all alone now except for him and Schon. I felt in my own breast pocket for my cigarette tin. While I was lighting our cigarettes, I showed him the photograph my own parents had taken of us all just after I enlisted. My father, balding, thin and dignified; my mother, dark-haired, thin and anxious with her hand on my arm, carefully, carefully not clinging. My three little sisters stiff in their Sunday best dresses, except for little Elsie grinning, eternally unladylike, her beloved smile undimmed by the faded print. Mikel’s face split in a grin just as warm and unselfconscious as his eyes lighted on it.

At one point, I walked off to take a piss behind a hump of tortured earth. As I was doing up my buttons, I looked up and saw Mikel doing the same. His blue eyes met mine, and then his warm lips did; there were dozens of men not twenty feet away and we could have been the only two people on Earth in that moment. I folded him in my arms as I kissed him back; he was thin, the bones of his ribs poking into me through his coat. His hand was cold in mine then, and I squeezed it tight briefly before we separated to come back to the others our own ways.

There was a moment as darkness began to fall when I thought We don’t have to go back. I could see the thought in the faces of every man around me, British and German alike. We looked at each other silently. The twilight muted our khaki and their grey uniforms to indistinguishable dark shapes in the dusk, with pale blobs of faces floating above them. All I could see, looking around me, were people. I looked across and met Mikel’s eyes shining bright out of his face in the gathering darkness.

Merry Christmas, Pip, he mouthed to me silently, smiling sadly.

Fröhliche Weihnachten, Mikel, I mouthed back to him, still tasting his mouth on mine. It was like another kiss exchanged across a few feet and a vast distance, in front of a hundred other men.

And then, achingly slowly, we all turned and trudged back, back to our trenches and our lives and our enemies.

Bill and Alec were dead by next Christmas, and Davey was back at home with two fewer legs than he had left with. We never had another Christmas truce. Miracles only happen once, and are not repeated when you lack the courage to accept what they offer you.

I thought of Mikel often in those other Christmasses, the ones with no truce and no silence in them. And plenty of other times besides as I stood staring out across that little space of broken earth that had once again become as wide and perilous as the great grey sea. I would light a cigarette, cupping my hand around it to shield it from a sniper’s sight, and taste his lips on mine again with my first inhale. I was offered sniper training myself several times when different sergeants picked up on my quickness of hand and eye. It would have meant a little more money to send home to my mother, struggling to feed and clothe the girls after the influenza took my father, but I always managed to find a way out of it. Snipers had to see the faces of the men they shot as they killed them. It would have killed me quite as sure as any bullet.

Did I kill Mikel, I often found myself wondering on those long days and nights filled with the ceaseless pounding of artillery, with any one of my hundred terrified blind shots into the darkness? Was he out there still, less than the length of a football field away, just as cold and terrified and alone as I was? Did he ever make it back to his sweet-faced mother and his jaunty little dog waiting for him by their little cottage under the apple tree? Or did one of those anonymous grey-clad corpses hanging on the wire after any one of a thousand forays have soft blue eyes like the summer sky above Pitlochry before they glazed over forever?

I could have tried to find out, after it was all finally over. I had an empty sleeve and several long-service medals by then, and no man would ever have called me a coward, but I never found the courage in myself to look up his name on any of the German casualty lists that came through, or to try to write to him through any of the international Veterans organisations I joined later in my life. I only ever mentioned his name to my wife Emma once, when I woke shuddering and sweating after a Bonfire Night when our grandchildren were small. The air was full of cordite and screams, and after I finally succeeded in finding sleep I ended up dreaming of him standing bloodsoaked and silent and sad in the mist a few yards from the edge of my trench.

I think of him still. Emma died a few years ago, and I don’t sleep well these days without her warmth beside me, even with my faithful little bull terrier Sasha curled up at the end of the bed by my feet. I often wake long before the dawn and am quite unable to find sleep again. I end up staring and smoking, watching the horizon outside my window turn slowly to grey and gold. Like me, Sasha is getting on these days, and her dicky bladder wakes her with the sun. On winter mornings, her arthritic old bones wake her even earlier, and I get to watch it rise with her trotting along beside me.

As I walk, I light a cigarette, cupping in my hand as though to shield its light from being seen, even though there’s rarely anyone but me out there. I touch the match to the end and inhale, and once again I taste his kiss as though it were Christmas morning once again, and a different world waiting for us there if we had only had the courage to reach out and grasp it.