Sweet Summer Child

In my 20's ꕥ She/her

[aestas---estas]

Call me Aestas or Summer | In my 20's | She/her

Mainly a Call of Duty blog, with occasional sprinkles of other hyperfixations. Not everything is smut, but this blog is still 18+ as I am an adult and do not want to censor myself. So MDNI!

Archive of Our Own | General Writing Tag Call of Duty | Avatar: The Last Airbender | Total Drama

[wyvern-whiskey]

Just love a smoking Simon

[rawme-price]

Thinking about ghost and gaz who, due to trauma and personal reasons, are both strictly tops, right?

Usually they make it work. Toys, mutual masturbation, jerking eachother off. Sure, with the random libido spikes it's a challenge, but nothing two SAS soldiers can't handle.

Sometimes, though, that craving for a nice warm hole to fuck just gets to be too much. Which leads to a pair of the hottest men you've seen hanging around the back of your local bar.

This is a practiced song and dance for them. Ghost far more particular about partner but lacking the social finesse, he points to people he wants and let's gaz do the rest.

Really, kyle has you the moment he leaned one shoulder against the wall, semi-caging you in with that warm smile. The heated kiss was just a bonus on top.

You'll only make the connection that they're married when kyle pulls ghost in for a kiss over your body. The fat underside of his cock rubbing over your tongue, ghost's cock buried deep in your hole.

You twist, desperate to see them, to soak in that genuine love you only receive fractions of. It's wet and messy, the scars on ghosts face dripping more spit onto your back than anything. But kyle only presses further, moaning against his husbands skin.

Afterwards, when you feel like your joints may give out and at least ten percent of your weight is cum, they'll pull you in between them with a content sigh. You'll drift off to bed between two lovers without feeling like a brick wall.

In the kitchen, far before you wake, you'll miss the conversation ghost and gaz have about a more permanent third.

[fictitioussaturday]

Holy, Wholly, Hollow - Kyle

Paladin Anthology Masterlist

TWs: Blood, non-sexual noncon, vague body horror

Divider by @/pixopix

It was raining the day the god ascended. Gray skies hurled down fat, distended drops that fell with a heavy plop, soaking anyone senseless enough to venture out into the deluge to the bone in a matter of minutes. It was the kind of storm that reminded you of the end of the world. Perhaps, in a way, it was. For a while, the rain had seemed like a beginning, but Kyle was becoming more and more certain it was the end of everything. No one had ever accused him of heedlessness, yet here he was, drenched and dripping, limbs almost completely frozen. Gods, he was cold.

So very, very cold.

He knew he was shivering, but that didn’t matter when he was face-to-face with a newborn deity standing ankle-deep in the mire in the middle of the road. The dark mud they had been tramping through looked almost obsidian against the quicksilver fire surrounding the celestial, the god’s last human scream still echoing in Kyle’s ears. Someone else had been there before the god, and now they were gone, a birth and a death all in one.

He was sure they had been human just before they’d become… whatever they were now. Kyle felt it deep in his belly - someone else had been there, someone he’d known, maybe someone he’d loved. He tried to recall memories together, a name, anything that would remind him of the friend he’d known before, but everything was so wrong. His mind couldn’t understand it. Where was the chipped front tooth, the bruised shin, the bloody nose dripping crimson streaks down a stubborn, pointed chin? The friend he’d cared for was gone, turned into something bigger than their skin, more powerful than the thunder rumbling overhead.

“Kyle.”

The voice that was not the voice he had known sang with bells and hoarfrost.

“Kyle, come with me.”

The power of the god’s words shook him down to his marrow. Kyle had never expected to receive a Call. His family had never been particularly religious, he hadn’t been sanctified as a child, had never received devotion on some saint’s altar like so many holy warriors before him. And yet, he was Called. Who could resist when the divine called your name? Who holds back when the irresistible reaches for your hand?

“W-who,” he trembled as he stared up at the creature, the god, before him. “Who are you?”

Their eyes were all-consuming as they looked down at him, wrong in a way that made him dizzy. Kyle fought the urge to be sick, swallowing down revulsion and the desperate urge to bolt. And still, the rain poured, icy rivulets streaming down warm, brown skin to pool on the earth below.

“It is as perfect as we thought it would be. You have to come with me.”

The god was before him, standing between Kyle and home, the divider between Before and What Will Be, glorious hand outstretched. Who could resist?

“I don't want to go.”

The whisper was almost drowned out by the pounding of the rain, but he knew they heard him. Gods always hear the prayers of their chosen, even if the god never answers. Delicate veins of frost crept over his fingertips, geometric patterns tracing the lines of muscle in his forearms, and Kyle knew the answer before the being spoke. His fate had been sealed the moment the god had ascended.

“I do not care what you want.”

In all the stories and all the legends, there had never been anything about a Taking, only the Calling. Being Chosen was a blessing, the greatest honor you would ever know. A Calling was holy and righteous, but Kyle’s god had never been fond of waiting and didn’t have the patience to convince its first devotee to follow. So, it Took him.

The god-once-friend reached down and carved its name into his chest, rending flesh from bone, splitting Kyle in two like overripe fruit in the summer sun. Distantly, he could hear his own scream, could feel the hot pulse of humanity draining out of him. Blood and water mixed into a sticky slush under his knees as he dropped, the pain of the Taking nearly blinding. Who could resist? He was a good man, a strong man, but not even Kyle could remain when something so beautiful and terrible branded itself into his soul.

When the pain finally ebbed, he was overfull and bitterly empty in turns. He could hear his god in his head, could feel its coldfire in his blood. He fisted his shirt, rubbing fiercely over his sternum where the emptiness ached inside him. The cold place between his ribs where his humanity had lived throbbed below Kyle’s palm, and he wept.

Tears fell, sliding down his cheek like the raindrops still pelting down from an uncaring sky. Kyle sobbed for his friend that was dead and born all at once, for the world he no longer understood, and for himself most of all. He screamed until his vocal cords cracked and the taste of copper coated the back of his tongue, until there was no more sound rising from his throat.

“Shhhh, it is all as it should be, Beloved.”

The god's hands burned against his skin, harsh as a winter's wind as they caressed his face. The shouts still echoed under his flesh, the last of whatever remained wholly Kyle railing against a prison made of bones and teeth, a forced calm stilling his outward frenzy. The tears dried on his cheeks even as his soul wept on.

Who could resist?

“My sweet, beloved Kyle. I am sorry for the pain, but you needed to follow, to bend to your God's will.”

Holy hands traced his temples and a sanctified balm in the shape of oblivion, calm and clear as fresh fallen snow, surrounded him. The world turned to quicksilver fire at the edges of his vision, slowly consuming everything until all that remained were the gray storm clouds overhead and the quickly fading warmth of blood flowing out of a fatal wound below. As the remainder of his vision faded, he could barely make out the sound of the unfamiliar familiar voice next to his ear.

“Afterall,” it crooned, “what is a paladin without his god?”

[rusticfurnace]

si

[hellowisconsin]

hyde + jackie {season five}

[sylvbun]

18+ mdni

simon is a dinosaur when it comes to technology, which makes having a high-maintenance, drop-dead gorgeous bimbo for a girlfriend a daily test of his patience. he belongs in the dirt, handling mechanical parts and heavy artillery, not squinting at a glowing smartphone screen with his reading glasses on. but you? you live on your phone, constantly sending him updates, and he is absolutely obsessed with every single one of them.

right now, he’s sitting on his cot in the middle of a dusty base, staring at his phone like it’s an unexploded mortar. he had been trying to open a basic encrypted file from command, but his massive, scarred thumb hit the wrong notification bar entirely. instead of military data, a message from you pops up.

attached is a picture.

simon’s breath hitches, his jaw locking instantly behind his mask. it’s a mirror selfie you took in your bathroom back home. you’re wearing a tiny, lacy matching set, your long manicured nails gripping the pink phone case, your hair perfectly done, and your lips glossed to perfection. you look incredibly soft, completely plush, and your body is curved beautifully in the frame. you left a little text caption at the bottom: missing my big soldier boy, come stretch me out soon pretty please? xx

his heart hammers violently against his ribs. his thick fingers hover over the screen, suddenly terrified of deleting it by accident. he tries to zoom in to see the details of your pretty face, but his heavy, calloused skin taps the screen too hard, causing the photo to completely disappear and the phone to lock.

“fucking hell,” he growls into the empty room, a dark, dangerous edge to his deep voice.

he panics for a solid ten seconds, aggressively tapping the glass with a heavy thumb until the lock screen finally prompts his passcode. his knuckles are white, his breathing ragged as he maneuvers back to the messaging app. when your gorgeous picture fills the screen again, a low, guttural groan rips from his throat. the sheer contrast between his rugged, violent surroundings and your bright, hyper feminine, pampered energy makes his blood run completely hot.

he can’t even figure out how to type a proper response without hitting three letters at once. his large fingers clumsily tap out: miserable without you. don't delete this.

the ache in his trousers is heavy and immediate, throbbing fiercely against his tactical pants. he stares at the photo for another long minute, tracing the line of your soft waist with his thumb against the glass, wishing more than anything that his hands were on your bare skin instead.

adjusting his weight on the cot, he slides a hand down to grip himself through his trousers, his white-knuckled grip tight as he imagines returning home to his sweet, spoiled girl. <3

[iskierkacest]

ghost keeps hanging out at the training grounds whenever soap is handling the rookies

still practising drawing ghost, so id appreciate any feedback :))

[kyoshi-lesbians]

my controversial opinion is I don’t think Zuko was confused by “my first girlfriend turned into the moon”

[kyoshi-lesbians]

he was there during siege of the North. he infiltrated the spirit oasis. he has an uncle who studies spirits and the spirit world. he watched the sky go dark then the moon suddenly reappear like everyone else in the entire world did. and most importantly he watched zhao get eaten by a giant godzilla fish spirit.

[kyoshi-lesbians]

his entire life since he saw that beam of blue-white light in the south pole has been ‘this day has already been so goddamn weird’

[edgar-allan-possum]

The only really new information was that that was Sokka’s girlfriend

[library-graffiti]

Important opinion in the tags that I need to have be part of the post:

[clearascountryair]

Also, Iroh was there? He literally watched Sokka make out with the moon spirit. And you want to tell me that a romantic sap like him would not have immediately told Zuko about this romantic tragedy? Please, Zuko has known about this for ages, he just knows that this is not an acceptable situation in which to say “yeah, I know.”

[terriwriting]

Sokka: “My girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko: “I know.” “Yes.” “She sure did.” “Uh huh.” “Tell me something new.” “Are we still talking about that?” “That’s rough, buddy.”

[alexseanchai]

[image: tags by samwisethebold: #it’s not that he doesn’t get what sokka means #it’s that how on earth do you respond to that]

[uberguber89]

When you put it like that, this is actually a legendary display of tact on Zuko’s part

[valiants]

Courting

[rimfaxe]

Just feelin' up his man :3

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Simon doesn't really go for the whole… Pride Month… thing. It's not offensive. He doesn't begrudge anyone else their celebrations, but he leaves the rainbows and parades to the younger generations.

As he smokes on a bench in the park, watching young men holding hands and laughing and bouncing around, he can't help but smile a bit. His back aches just watching some of the baby lesbians carrying each other this way and that, and he scrubs a hand over Toaster Strudel's head on his knee.

"This seat taken?"

Simon chuckles as Kyle drops to sit next to him. "Savin' it for my 'usband, ain't I?"

"Husband?" Kyle chuckles and drapes his arm over the back of the bench. "Sounds serious."

"e's my world," Simon answers, too sincere. He drops his hand on Kyle's knee and tips his head to whisper, "Great cock."

The laugh that gets him is so beautiful that he can't help but lean in for a kiss.

[wyvern-whiskey]

Just goofing around🙃

[valiants]

A little period AU dream for lunar.lord... thank you my love 🥹🕺

[rimfaxe]

💀😘🧼

[bluegiragi]

turn around and you're right there

early access + nsfw on patreon

[bluegiragi]

turn around and you're right there

early access + nsfw on patreon