The Lie Of Providence - Recom/Na'vi Miles Quaritch X Na'vi Female Reader - Masterlist

An open note to readers of fanfic

Sometimes I stare at the computer screen when the words don’t want to come and I think, “Fuck, who am I kidding? This is terrible writing, and this story is shit, and no one cares, anyway.“  And I close the window and go do something else.

But every now and then I get an amazing, heartfelt, beautiful comment from someone who loved something I wrote, and it reminds me that, at least for that one person, I did write something worthwhile. And so I open the window again and I write one sentence, and then another, and then I start to find my way again.

So on behalf of all fanfic writers everywhere, I want to say thank you, thank you so much, to all of the readers who take the time to leave a comment and tell us that something we wrote mattered to you, that it brightened your day or made you laugh or cry or get horny or whatever.

Please don’t think we’re ever bothered by your comment, or that we don’t want to hear it, or that what you have to say isn’t important enough. It means so, so much. And on some days, it’s what keeps us going.

Revenant - Prologue

word count: 940

Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Wife! Reader Warnings/Tags: None

Chapter Summary: You are called in by your Handler to discuss something important.

[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]

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Year 2144.

You fidget nervously with the frayed ends of your black dress. Though the mission was a success, and the target eliminated with no casualties, things did not happen as smoothly as they could have. There is no doubt in your mind this will come up in the report. And so close to reviews too.

Fuck.

Never has riding the elevator to the 47th floor felt longer. You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning your forehead against the cool glass. It does little to sooth you. You focus on the expansive vista of the city. Well deep into the night, the city still thrums with life. A sea of neon lights disappears into the horizon. Smog wafts its way through the tops of buildings, laying itself thickly upon the air. The city disappears as the elevator breaches the clouds.

You push yourself from the glass, facing the doors just as the elevator comes to a stop with a resonant ding.

Your face is neutral and your gait confident as you step forth, making your way through the lobby. Miss Halliday, the concierge, stands ready at the front desk.

“Agent Bloodthorn. A pleasure as always.” Her smile brings you a measure of comfort, sweet honeyed voice a balm to your nerves.

“Ophelia, good evening. Busy tonight?” You make light conversation, as you always do. You hand her the blood coin.

“No busier than usual mam.” She opens her mouth to speak further, but pauses, bringing her hand up to her ear. “Ah. The Handler will see you now. Suite 3 if you please.”

You give her a short nod and set a brisk pace to the suite in question. The sounds of your heels as you walk down the marbled hallway reverb far too loudly for your liking. All too quickly do you stand before the deep mahogany door. Your hand reaches for the golden handle and you enter with one fluid motion. There is no need to knock when you are expected.

Soft gold paints itself along the walls and furnishings from the lit fireplace. The floor to ceiling window at the end brings in the natural silver light of the moon. Your Handler stands at the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the city below; it would be beautiful on a cloudless night.

“Agent! A resounding success tonight my dear!” He turns to you, arms spread in congratulatory fashion.

“T-thank you, Handler!” Your body stiffens involuntarily at the praise, and you nervously pick at your ruined garment.

“Come now, [Y/N]; even after all these years, you’re still at it with the formalities with me. I’ve known you for nearly a decade and a half now child; I practically raised you!” He laughs heartily as he teases you.

“Sorry James, force of habit, haha…”

He invites you to sit in front of him; a singular leather chair awaits you. As you sit, so too does he, a large wooden desk separating you two. Fluidly he retrieves two crystal classes, a bottle of dark liquid you’re sure you won’t like. He pours you half what he pours himself, wordlessly placing the drink closer to you.

You nod in thanks, taking the glass in hand. With practiced movement, you gently swirl the liquid, giving it an experimental sniff. Where you take a small sip, James downs the contents in one gulp. You let out a small cough and return to the glass to the desk.

“On to business then.” He pulls out several manila folders. “Despite what you might think, the reason we called you in Agent, isn’t to discuss your mission tonight.” You sit up straight when he says this, leaning forward as you watch him unwind one folder.

“A new contract came in while you were out. And as far as I’m concerned, you’ll want to be a part of this.”

He places the open folder in front of you. Your eyes skim over the words. Avatar Program. Pandora.  

“This is…”

“Correct. Word through the network is your brother Tom’s been scouted by Grace Augustine herself. Should start his training next year.”

You had heard as much. Sweet Tom spoke animatedly about Grace and her work. He was so excited to start training, and even more excited to put his PhDs to work on the alien world.

“As it were, you won’t be needing any physical training. With your natural prowess, we believe you will be able to master piloting your avatar in no time; gain experience on the go as it were.”

“M-my own avatar? You’re giving me one of these?? Don’t they cost, billions, to make?!” You can’t help raising your voice, but you saw the numbers as you skimmed the file. Those were a lot of zeroes.

James smirks at you with a shake of the head.

“Leave the financial worrying to me Agent; that’s not your job.”

You let out a defeated sigh, but acquiesce nonetheless. You read further. The file goes on about the local clan of natives, the Omatikaya. It covers the basics of their governing structure, touching lightly on the culture. It speaks of the relationship formed by Grace, but also their inherent distrust of the RDA.

James places another folder in front of you. There is a polaroid; two blurry figures, one circled in red. You can at least make out that they are natives, both men, presumably.

“Your mission agent, is to eliminate this man.” He taps an index finger on the circled figure.

“Who is that?” You tilt your head as you try to make out the features of the man.

“That my dear, is Eytukan; the Clan Leader.”

---

[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]

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do u ever get a comment on a fic thats just so sweet that ur like Maybe slaving over 24k of fanfiction was worth it for user SprinkleTrashcan2012 to leave a three paragraph comment

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If you don't think that fanfic writers get attached to their commenters and repeat commenters... you're crazy.

There's people who comment on my stories, disappear for months at a time, then comment when they catch up and I almost always remember their tagnames. It means the WORLD to me as a writer to have people who comment both regularly and irregularly on my stories/oneshots/moodboards.

When you guys go away for a few weeks or months... we notice! We hope you're okay and just taking a break, and when you come back rested and excited to read more stories, we're so happy to have you back.

So yes, please comment on stories even if it's once in a blue moon. You're not annoying, you're not overbearing for multiple comments or being super excited. You're helping fuel a writer to keep writing just to see what you have to say next about the next chapter! You're doing the Lord's work with your comments!

Whether you leave a Russian novel in a comment, or just go "noice", like... it makes the writer brain go !!!!!!💞

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 4 - By Thy Father

word count: 1590

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader A/N: A meaning conversation between Father and Daughter. Hope you like it! Remember to hmu if you'd like to be added to tag list. If I've left you off, it is by accident, so please let me know! As usual apologies for any grammatical errors!

"blue text" is spoken Na'vi. 'Italics' are thoughts.

<previous chapter> | 4 | <next chapter>

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Your sleep the next few days are restless. Though you do not return to the dream, the fear and anxiety alone kept slumber at bay. Neytiri is the first to notice your change in behaviour.

A mother is always watching, drinking in the splendour of her offspring. And something is indeed off with you. She decides to broach the topic to her husband.

“Ma Jake,” she catches him alone one evening, you and your siblings already asleep for the night; though not without great difficulty on your part.

“What’s up, babe?” Usually she would giggle to be addressed so in English, playfully hitting him for his silly behaviour, but tonight is not the night for flirting so she brushes it off.

“I fear something is wrong with [Y/N].” Neytiri’s ears pin back as she says this, looking into her beloved’s eyes. He can see the fear there, brewing. His own ears perk up in interest and anticipation, the ever-present flame inside to protect his family roaring to life.

“Tell me.”

“I have been watching and I have seen. These pass few days, she eats less, she smiles less. And when it is time to sleep, she fights to stay awake, like she is afraid. When she thinks no one is looking, her face, you can see sadness. Fear. But when I try to ask, she says she is fine. She smiles but it isn’t real. I do not like this Ma Jake…” her lips tremble slightly and immediately she’s pulled into a hug.

Jake rests his head on top of hers, planting a kiss to her hair. He gently sways back and forth, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she softly weeps.

“It’s okay, everything is gonna be okay…I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner,” he pulls back to wipe the tear stains with his thumbs. He cups her face and kisses her softly. He doesn’t pull away but rests his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay, I know you are busy. You are Olo'eyktan. You have many duties.”

“My duty is first and foremost to this family. And I’ll do whatever it damn well takes to keep you all safe.”

Neytiri smiles at him with an exasperated laugh, placing her hand over his.

“I know.”

---

It’s early morning in Pandora. The sun has only just broken the horizon, the golden yolk cascading across the sky. You left home before daybreak, needing somewhere quiet, somewhere you can be alone with your thoughts.

And so you took the short trek to the Tree of Souls. You round the back of the tree, resting upon its great trunk, curtained by its luminescent tendrils. You pull our knees up to your chest, fold your arms upon your knees, and rest your head therein. Your hair falls around you in golden splendour, damn still with the dewy diamonds of the morning shimmering in the morning glow.

Another dreamless sleep, yet restless all the same. The bags under your eyes are evident of that. You contemplate asking your Tsahik for guidance. Apprehension has stopped you thus far though; what if this was the Will of Eywa? You’re not sure how you’d feel about such an answer. What could you have done to deserve such suffering?

Your thoughts are interrupted by approaching footsteps. You tilt your head up to see your father approach and make himself comfortable beside you.

“Hey kid,” he greets you with a gentle smile, “you’re up early.”

You smile crookedly. “So are you.”

Jake smiles down at you and you put your head back into your arms. His casts downward as he thinks; he’s not sure how to broach this topic with you. But he sees what Neytiri sees; that brief moment of eye contact speaks volumes beyond words.

“Listen, [Y/N], your mother and I…We’re worried about you,” he starts off and puts an arm around you, pulling you into a side embrace. When you don’t say anything, he continues.

“You haven’t been eating properly. You don’t look as happy as you usually do. And you haven’t been sleeping properly either. What’s wrong kiddo? Tell your dear old Dad so he can make it better babygirl.”

You could almost cry from such words. But you are still afraid. Even if you do not dream, you still see those bleeding eyes. Red as blood, blacker than night. Even in your mind’s eye do they bore into your soul. Taking you apart piece by piece.

When you don’t say anything, you feel your father gently move your arms away and lift your head with both hands cradling your face. Glossy vermillion eyes meets that of lliquid gold. There is no judgement there. He is drenched in understanding. Your will shatters and you weep openly.

Instantly you are pulled into his lap, your head resting on his chest listening to rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. A strong heart. He rubs soothing patterns on your back as he holds you; gently shushing you with promised whispers of assurance. Your crying does eventually does subside, the catharsis of it all washing over you.

“Feel better?” You nod in response and move back to sit beside him, wiping the streaks from your face.

“You feeling up to tell me what’s been bothering you? Did something happen? Did…someone do something to you?”

You shake your head.

“No, no. No one did anything…But something did happen. You’ll probably think I’m crazy. Letting a dream—a nightmare make me feel like this.”

“[Y/N] I would never call you crazy, at least not to your face—” the jab is so unexpected he successfully rips a snort from you and you shove him playfully.

“Ha-ha you are so very funnyyyy” you droll at him.

“Heh, it worked didn’t it? Sorry don’t mean to derail. But I’m happy to see you smile, even just a little…I’m serious though [Y/N]; I won’t think you’re crazy. I’m your Dad, I love you unconditionally. And let’s not forget, this isn’t my original body? It’s a mix of Sky People, who I used to be, and Na’vi, which I now inhabit thanks to this here big ol’ magic spirit tree. Now that’s crazy to think about. So I promise sweetheart, you can talk to me about anything, and I won’t think you’re crazy.”

You smile and take a deep calming breath.

You explain to your father about the last dream you had. Something deep in you, rooted in the very core of your being, demands you omit your human companion. You speak of walking through the great forests of Pandora. The song of Eywa guiding you. You talk of coming upon the great Hometree of time passed. How it stood tall and proud, reverent are you to behold its splendour. You speak then, of the hook, the pain. To be pulled around and fall. The screaming till your throat hurts. Then suddenly having no mouth with which to scream.

And the eyes.

So many eyes.

They did not blink. Their gaze did not shift. Ever bleeding, so did they spread, the black sky awash in crimson. You speak of clawing your own skin in the dream, only to find the same marks marring your arms in the wake. You hid these carefully with wrappings, made it look as though you were simply adding to your clothing.

“It…it didn’t feel like a dream, Dad. It felt real. Like I was really there. Trapped. I couldn’t move I was so scared. And I couldn’t scream. All I could do was look back into those terrible eyes...” You wipe away a tear threatening to fall.

Jake is filled with trepidation. Initially he thought maybe you were upset about something simple, like the hardships you know you’ll face if you pursue being a hunter of the clan, or maybe you were just confused about where your place was in the clan. But this, something almost spiritual, he is unprepared for. He exhales a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and places a comforting hand upon your back.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone, you must have felt so scared.”

You nod at his words.

“Listen, even back on Earth, people had scary dreams, nightmares even. Saw it a lot actually. You remember? I was a soldier, a warrior, back on Earth. And the fighting, the wars, it changes people. Lot of my brothers and sisters in arms spoke of seeing things they couldn’t explain. But it does help, if you talk to someone. Now, you obviously can talk to me, any time any place; just say the word.

Though I gotta be honest kid, I don’t know just how much help I’ll be, but I’ll do my damnest to help.  But if I can give you some advice, I think you should talk to your Grandmother. She is your Tsahik, and I feel like she’d be better suited to this kinda stuff. Maybe Eywa can help? You tried…?” he holds a tendril of The Tree in his hand. You shake your head.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Hmmno. Was too scared.” He nods and moves to stand. If you were too scared, he won't force you. When he’s up, he turns and holds out his hand to you.

“Alright then. Come on kid, let’s go see Mo’at, yeah?” A beat passes as you stare at the hand in front of you. You look up and when you see the soft expression of your father, you are filled with a determination you didn’t think possible. You take his hand and rise to your feet.

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Tag list: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @perseny

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<previous chapter> | 4 | <next chapter>

Jealousy? You Wear it Well

word count: 1529

Pairing: Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader Tags: fluff, romance, cute, silly, oneshot Author's note: A quick oneshot dedicated to @royallaufeyson! Saw their post asking for this pairing fluff and thought I'd give it a go. Hopefully it's too your liking :)

Ao’nung considers himself many great things; strong, skilled hunter, a remarkable swimmer. But jealous? No, never. Why would he be jealous? And of that stupid ikran? Perish the thought. What’s there to be jealous about really? Nothing, that’s what!

Yet here he finds you, his darling Omatikayan future mate, tending to your ikran, instead of meeting up with him like you were supposed to an hour ago.

You don’t even hear his approach, and that in itself stirs an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. You have your back to him, standing before your own ikran. You’re rubbing his neck and humming soothing words as he rests his head on your shoulder. Naturally, the accursed beast is the first to spot his approach.

Suddenly his head is off your shoulders and he hisses with a faux threat, his attention behind you.

“Hoan?” You look up at your ikran, confused by his sudden change in attitude. Noticing his gaze is fixated on something behind you, angry at something intruding on your alone time, you turn around to see what the fuss is about.

A wide grin splits your face, recognizing the would-be intruder as your beloved future mate.

“Ao’nung!” His name slips through your lips like siren song, turning your whole lithe form to him and jog to meet his approach halfway. No matter how many times he sees you, once again is he left awestruck by your visage. As you run to him, those untamed locks flowing freely behind you, your form is caught in the last rays of sunlight before eclipse; a golden luster leaving kisses upon your skin.

And he melts. Ready is he to prostrate himself before such beauty. He catches you in his strong arms with little effort, you are so light and lithe coming from the forest.

Your arms instinctually wrap around his neck and you kiss him without hesitation. A short quick peck and you pull away to look down into his eyes, pale blue meeting gold.

“Hi,” you say and he returns your smile as he places you on your feet once more. You don’t untangle your arms around his neck. His hands are on hips, holding you close.

“Hi yourself,” he says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.”

“Oel ngati kameie,” you say back with a smile.

Hoan makes an annoyed huff behind you, clacking his jaw a few times. You turn to look at him, ears perked up.

“Hoan, what’s gotten into you recently?” Your attention is immediately pulled to your ikran, instantly removing your arms from Ao’nung’s neck as you make your way back to the creature in question. You don’t see the slight frown that forms on your beloved’s face as he watches you walk away. But your hand catches his, and without looking back, you pull him along with you. A roll of the eyes, ‘of course this thing needs you right this very moment’ he laments to himself.

“Sweet boy, what’s got you huffing and chuffing?” As you ask this you let go of Ao’nung’s, placing both hands on either side of Hoan’s face. “Are you still hungry?” you look to the side and see the fish portions remain untouched.

“Hmm…He must grow tired of the same meal. Poor thing must miss yerik and talioang meat.” You lament as you rub his neck soothingly. He makes a light trilling noise as you do. “Maybe you prefer some soft-shell meat, yes? I think I saw some in a pool nearby. Ao’nung, can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back!”

“Well I—” and before he can even protest, you’ve sprinted off, his arm outstretched to your retreating form. After a beat he drops his arm back to his side and sighs deeply. An awkward silence permeates the air. He can feel Hoan staring at the back of his head. Probably plotting his demise. He turns then, fixing a scowl at the creature, though mindful not to make direct eye contact.

“There’s probably nothing wrong with you, is there?” he asks, as if the beast would understand him perfectly. Hoan blinks, tilting his head from side to side as if confused, cawing at him.

“Oh don’t you play innocent with me. You kept her here on purpose didn’t you? Think you’re real smart hogging all her attention.”

Hoan doesn’t give away any indication he understood anything directed at him. Instead he busies himself cleaning the inner parts of his wing; utterly ignoring Ao’nung it seems.

The boy in question shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Turning around to once again face the direction you went.

“Skxáwng ikran…” he mutters to himself.

SMACK!

His hand flies to the back of his head, something having hit him. He turns around and looks down, finding a portion of sand and drool covered fish at his heals. He frowns and looks up Hoan, the offending creature has his head buried in his other wing.

Ao’nung eyes him up and down, taking a few steps back before turning around once more. Where the heck were you?

SMACK!

“Hey!” He turns around angrily and again he finds fish at his heels while Hoan is preening himself; the picture of innocence. “You better stop that or else!” A fool Ao’nung is then, to turn his back once more, because as soon as he does—

SMACK!

This time when he turns around, Hoan is instead looking right at him. The offending creature honks at him rhythmically, and to the annoyed Ao’nung, that almost sounds a damn laugh. Without a second thought, he picks up the nearest piece of fish and lobs it at Hoan’s head. He hits him square in the face, the fish leaving a sandy red kiss to his temple.

Were it possible, Ao’nung thinks the face Hoan’s giving him right now would be that of the utter most offence anyone has ever taken in the history of the forever. He picks up another piece and throws it Ao’nung, hitting him in the chest and leaving the same gross smelly mark.

“So you have chosen war.” Ao’nung states, a war cry leaves his lips and he grabs the pieces near him into his arms, throwing them at Hoan.

The ikran responses immediately, a loud hiss and raw at Ao’nung, this time he grabs as many pieces in his mouth as he can, throwing them haphazardly at his opponent, some missing him completely.

The two of them go at it for a while, the pieces becoming nearly unrecognizable as time passes. All the while, Ao’nung laughs, what a silly thing he finds himself doing, having a, fish war, with your ikran. The beast itself making all manner of caws, bellows, yips, snarls and chirps.

So engrossed are the two of them that they naturally do not here your approach until it is too late.

“By the Great Mother, what is going on here???”

Immediately they both stop, dead still are they, like two naughty children being caught red handed. They turn to you then, you standing off to the side, a small basket balanced on your hips, filled with various molluscs.

Ao’nung drops the pieces he’s holding, straightening up and clearing his throat.

“Well you see, [Y/N], we were just—” another piece hits him in the side of the head. He turns and frowns at Hoan, who has his head facing the other way, turned to the sky as if the most interesting thing he’s ever seen is there right now.

“Pffft….Pffthahahahaha!” A melodious laugh bursts forth from you, and Ao’nung turns to you alarmed; a light blue dust paints itself up his neck and across his cheeks. “The two of you are ridiculous! Look at you! Covered in sand and fish blood.” You shake your head, smile never wavering. You set the basket beside Hoan, knowing you wouldn’t have to shuck the creatures yourself. It will be good for him to use his wing claws to pry them open.

“Silly boy, Hoan!” You tease and make tsaheylu. “Make sure you wash yourself thoroughly before you return to the others. Else Bob will never let you forget,” you say out loud for Ao’nung’s benefit before disconnecting and approaching said boy.

He huffs at you and turns away.

There is a cheeky smile on your face as you look up at him, arms behind your back.

“So…”

“So…?”

“Having fun without me?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about honestly.”

You shake your head at his antics and grab his hand.

“Come, let’s get you cleaned up in the heated pools,” you say and walk off, pulling him behind you by your joint hands.

You turn to look at him behind you, not slowing your pace as you do.

“And Ao’nung?”

“Yes?”

“Jealousy? You wear it well yawne,” you tease him, letting the word roll of your tongue, dripping in liquid gold. You can’t help but giggle when you see the shocked look on his face, the darkening of his skin renewed tenfold. He turns his face elsewhere.

“Sh—shut up…”

You laugh once again facing forward and squeeze his hand.

He smiles contently, and gently squeezes back.

----

Oel ngati kameie - I see you

yerik - the hexapede

talioang - the sturmbeest 

skxáwng - stupid/moron/idiot

yawne - my love

Could I, pretty please, request Tsu'tey eating put-put, like no one has any business to, on human! reader? 👉👈🥺❤️

It's coming babes! Sorry it's takin' so long! I couldn't help myself, the fic got away from me. So now there's a bit of a fluffy build up to the absolute filthy degeneracy we all crave ❤️(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)❤️

Hopefully will have it done by tomorrow night~! ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

I would kiss Lyle on his big ol' bald forehead like he's a wittle baby.

Marry Quaritch cuz I'm biased AF.

And sorry Tsu'tey you dying cuz EYWA ALREADY DECIDED YOU DYING

Now that your ass is back, you're also gonna get it. 😈

Kiss, Marry, Kill

Tsu'tey

Quaritch

Lyle

By answering this by your own will, you are hearby clarifying that no one will get hurt in the process and that the responsibility is fully in your hands if any injuries will occur. 🫡

I hate my inbox why did I have to go on browser to see this ?!!

Lyle is instantly biting the bullet because; he’s bald

I’d kiss Quaritch because I’d sell my left kidney to just take a sniff of that man

And I’d marry Tsu’tey because he’s the best of both worlds. He’s just a bit mean and rough, but will treat you well. Husband material for real

Easy peasy

Do um... Do you have a permanent taglist? 👉👈 If you do, could I pretty please be added to it? 🥺😇

Ohhh that's a fantastic idea! I'll start one!

If anyone else wants to be on the permanent tag list please interact with this post: like, comment or retweet etc.

Note!!! Being on this taglist means you're gonna get tagged for almost ANYTHING I post!