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The Lie of Providence - Chapter 5 - Paths

word count: 2698

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding

“blue text” is spoken Na'vi. ‘Italics’ are thoughts.

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When you and father return to the village, you find Mo’at already awake and preparing for her duties of the day.

“Mo’at, I must speak with you urgently.” Jake addresses her almost immediately.

“Good morning to you too ma Jake, ma [Y/N].” She chides him playfully, unawares of how serious he is. You greet her softly.

“Good morning Grandmother…” Her focus is immediately on you. She studies your face; that downcast gaze, the faint streaks left by tears.

“Come.” She commands and you two follow her into an unoccupied healer tent. She gestures you two to sit and she secures the entrance closed.

“Speak of your troubles.”

Once again you go through the motions of your nightmare. Again your tongue is held steadfast against mentions of the Human. You do not cry this time, far too drained now. When you are finished speaking you exhale deeply. Grandmother is quiet as she sits in front of you, studying you. Your father nervously shifts his gaze from you to her and back. He opens his mouth to speak but she swiftly lifts a hand to silence him, gaze never faltering from you.

Without a word she rises from her spot and swiftly leaves the tent. You look to your father confused, but he merely shrugs; equally baffled. Quickly she returns though, bringing with her a bowls, tools, and a satchel no doubt filled with various powders and plants.

She works without uttering a single word. She alights the small fire pit in the center of the tent space. You welcome the gentle heat as it washes away the morning chill. Your father moves to sit closer to you, putting a comforting arm around your shoulder as the two of you watch Mo’at work.

You watch with keen interest as she grinds dried plants into fine powders, quietly chanting as she does. She pulls the bone from her necklace and holds out her free hand expectantly to you. You understand immediately and offer a hand. She pricks a finger, putting a drop of your blood into her concoction. She grabs a handful of the powder and throws it upon the fire.

The flames roar to life suddenly, a dazzling dance of reds and purples awash the tent. You look at your arms and marvel as the colours are reflected perfectly in your pale tones. You wonder if other colours would dance so wonderfully on your skin too. Mo’at’s prayers are louder now as she gestures this way and that, a dance known only to her as Tsahik. Suddenly the fire burns dark red, bolder than fire should be, and immediately dies without warning. Mo’at gasps and inhales deeply.

She sits back on her haunches, hands folded in her lap.

“The Great Mother has spoken. She speaks of fire and brimstone. Of great shadows darkening the sky. The seas painted red with spilt blood. Of villages burning, our people dying. Of betrayal, vengeance, wrath…”

She looks up from the dead flames to meet your eyes.

“She speaks of you. A warning. Many paths lay before you. She did not reveal them to me. Only that you must choose the right one.”

You gulp. All of that sounded more ominous than helpful. In fact, the right path? What does that even mean? How are you supposed to know? What if you choose wrong? What then? Will you be the reason people die and villages burn?? Your suddenly filled with anxiety, such thoughts becoming too taxing for a 12-year-old girl.

“Hey Mo’at that’s enough! You’re scaring her!” Your father yells when he notices your laboured breath. There words become heated but you do not hear. Static fills your ears as you stare at your open palms.

You’re suddenly filled with a desire to see the Human. That cold gruff man. He’s been a constant in your life for many years now. Oh, you left him on that cliff. You hope he finds his way back to the waking world or where ever he comes from.

And before any of you realise it, you unwillingly fall into the embrace of darkness.

---

Miles Quaritch considers himself a sensible sort. Tough on his men, tougher on his opponents. Values loyalty above all else. Does not question authority, and does himself expect not to be questioned. That first day on Pandora, she made one thing very clear; this is not your home, and you do not make the rules here.

He wears his scars proudly, a reminder of what’s out there. Not just the animals and plants, but those savages too. Anything with a pulse is trying to kill you. Anything without a pulse can kill you too. But they have a job to do. Orders are orders and one way or another, they are going to get to that damn deposit of unobtainium.

The Avatar Program. What a fucking joke. Waste of time as far as he is concerned. Would be easier just to smoke out all the natives by force and blow the damn tree up. Minimal casualties of course, but such things are unavoidable. He suddenly wonders if you live in that big tree.

Urgh. He hates that he suddenly thought of you. Some native kid inhabiting a dream. He doesn’t like the lucid dreams. They feel far too real for his liking. He’d really like Jake to hurry the fuck up so he can be done with this planet and be on the next shuttle outta here. He can’t help his mind however, recalling the first time he had seen you. Jesus Christ you scared the shit outta him, looking like a damn ghost what with that pale skin and all. Turns out you were just a bratty kid who followed him everytime he dreamt these past few months.

He wonders then though, if his mind was playing tricks on him last time he dreamt of you. You looked, almost bigger? He’s not sure anymore. The low gravity of this planet must be fucking with his head and he can’t stand it. He sighs as he rubs a hand down his face. He’d love nothing more than to leave right now. Paz looks ready to pop anytime soon and he’d prefer if the boy was born on his real home planet, not this God forsaken moon. This was no place to raise a son.

Although he and Paz weren’t in a relationship per say, he knows he needs to do right by her and their son. So begrudgingly here he stays, following through with orders to the best of his ability, to ensure a future for his son, and to ensure he has a home to go back to once this is all over.

---

 Months pass and yet still you do not return to the shared dream. For this you are grateful as you have yet to experience another nightmare. You would be saddened to have not seen your human companion were this not the norm though; to go so long without another shared dream.

It might even take another year before he makes an appearance. But that is a worry for future you. Present day you has thought long and hard about Eywa’s less than straight forward answers. But as luck would have it, you have come up with a sort of plan.

As you recall, Eywa spoke of many paths to be laid before you, choosing the right one a crucial step toward the future. You wondered then, if perhaps this was hence tied to your future place in the clan; something not yet set in stone either.

Being the first born of Olo'eyktan, you had many choices in your future role to the clan, Leader of course being one of them. Alternatively, you could tutelage under Grandmother to become future Tsahik. This was once your mother’s destiny, but the war with the Sky People passed lead her instead down the path of the Warrior, to which she has since thrived. She is a remarkable huntress too, and you would be honoured to learn from her; another path you could choose.

There were also the Gatherers, experts in cultivating the land and foraging, making sure to take only what is needed to never upset the great balance. You could study craftmanship – becoming an expert in textiles, or one day having the privilege of using the Mother Loom. You could become a Clan Singer, studying under Ninat and learning the songs to bring joy around the cooking fires, or the prayers that are sung to honour the dead.

With so many ways you could fit into the clan, your genius idea was then to do it all.

Oh yes. You were going to study everything. Every last job afforded to you, you would give everything that you are and then some. Surely there could be no wrong path if you took EVERY path!

With this in mind you approach your parents and grandparent with the idea. Mo’at is apprehensive, becoming Tsakarem was a life long commitment. But as it would stand she doesn’t currently have anyone under her tutelage, so she relents. She places a condition though; were she to see a sign from Eywa regarding your future as Tsahik, she would end the training were it not to please the Great Mother. You agree wholeheartedly.

And so begins your training under dearest Grandmother.

And by the Great Mother is it exhausting. But equally as exhilarating. There is a thought in the back of your mind too, that if you can become one who interprets the Will of Eywa, there is the chance that your own future, and the dreams that may yet lie within, could become clearer to you. You could gain a better understanding of it all. Maybe.

Every morning then, you awaken before majority of the clan, and listen dutifully as Mo’at explains everything she does, and the reasons therein. She speaks of Eywa’s influence in the world around you, look for signs, the things others may not yet see. How she interprets these things. The rites that a Tsahik must perform for her people, the plants you use, the painting patterns, which paints to use and the colours and their meanings. There is even order in the burning powders for rituals and rites alike. It is a lot to take in. But you drink it up as though you are starved.

And when the sun approaches its zenith, you spend your time with Mother, she teaches you the ways of hunting. How to track the great beasts of Pandora, how to stealth through the forest but leave no trace behind. She begins teaching you to use a bow, and you and her are surprised to find you are remarkably proficient. She praises you greatly, and the two of you laugh over stories of how much she struggled to teach your father the very same weapon.

When the sun first kisses the horizon, you then spend time with Ninat, learning how to control your voice. Breathing exercise. How to hold notes and expanding your range. She tells you that you have a good voice, and will no doubt sing beautifully with time; if your own mother’s voice is anything to go by. With that in mind, you practice your singing in the evenings when Neytiri sings her personal songcord.

Your days are never the same though. Though each morning will always be spent with Tsahik, some afternoons you spend with father, he appoints himself to teach you the way of the Warrior. How to fight. And more importantly, how to wield a knife. Though he’s not ready to give you a proper blade yet, you are given a blunt wooden carving of one. Technique is of the most importance. The stances and body movements he teaches you, are Human techniques.

He appoints Tarsem, a young but extremely wise Warrior to teach you the native style of the clan. He hopes a broaden fighting style with multiple perspectives will keep you that much safer in the future.

Other evenings are spent with some of the Gatherers as they prepare food for the clan with the Hunters. You learn how to carve meat from bone, which parts of animals are for eating, the rest for healing or craftsmanship. There are some days where you join them out the forest, learning which plants are safe and which to avoid wholeheartedly. Which herbs mix well together, and which when combined make absolute and utter chaos.

The only downside to this sudden busy schedule, is you find yourself with far less time than before to spend with your siblings. It weighs heavy on your heart; especially when you have to refuse their offers to play when you have lessons.

You do the best you can to make time here and there. You are free though, well after the evening meal, when the sky is dark and full of stars. You sit with them and tell them stories of your day, the struggles of your training, the joys of doing things right. There is a big smile that spreads upon your face, ear to ear, as you regale them, almost nary stopping to breathe.

Then there are your days of Rest. One must allow oneself to replenish the energy that is borrowed from Eywa. These are the days you visit Hells Gate to spend time with Uncle Norm and Max catching up on your goings on. Spider is of course there too, eating up everything you see, wishing he too could be a part of your training.  By the Great Mother if you somehow become Clan Leader you will make sure he becomes an official member, and anyone who disagrees will answer to you.

---

2 Years pass. You are 15 now, almost a young adult. Your training still continues, though only to hone your skills. One development however, is that at some point you ceased your training as future Tsahik. Instead, Mo’at has appointed Kiri to be her new Tsakarem. And at 11 years old Kiri is more than excited. Any chance she can commune with the Great Mother she takes it. It means she get so communicate with her Birth Mother, Grace; a surprising thing to learn.

Your parents had waited until the older children, everyone except Tuk, were old enough to understand the story. How they found Grace’s avatar body pregnant without explanation, in its stasis pod. And how Kiri came into the world a little miracle, one they graciously took into their family to raise as their own. Now Kiri sometimes visits Hells Gate with Lo’ak in tow, the two of them growing closer to Spider as the years passed. But also it gives her a chance to see her other Mother, to watch videos of her talking about her love for Eywa and this world.

---

Hold your breath. Steady aim. Do not pull too tightly. Exhale on release. No sudden movements. Aim carefully and—the yerik just so happens to look up and immediately spots you, instantly scurrying off before you can let loose an arrow.

You cuss, growly in frustration of it all. This is not the first time something like this has happened. You are sure of it now. Being this pale against the backdrop of the forest’s deep greens and blues, you must stand out something fierce.

“Calm, [Y/N]. These things happen.” Your mother says and puts a comforting hand upon your shoulder.

“Sorry. I know. It’s just—incredibly frustrating.”

“What is, my sweet atokirina?”

You gesture vaguely up and down your whole body.

“This. This is. It makes me stand out. I can’t hunt like this Mama. They see me so fast…”

“Then we must try other techniques. From higher in the trees, or—”

“It’s not just the animals Mother…”

The words slip out before you even think. Damn. This wasn’t something you wanted to necessarily talk about. At least not yet. It was awkward. It was uncomfortable. And most of all, heart breaking. Neytiri scowls, not liking the implication behind those words.

“What do you mean, [Y/N]?”

You sigh deeply. ‘Eywa give me strength’. And so you decide to tell your mother, about your first heartbreak.

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A/N: Once again I'd like to give thanks to everyone that has liked and or reblogged this story. It really means a lot and is great motivation to keep going! I know you all must be frothing for the promised quaritch x reader content and I thank you for your patience. I promise it is coming! I just really wanted to get some world building in there; really delve into you as the reader and where you come from. I am eager to hear your thoughts. Let me know how ya'll feel about pacing and whatever else have you!

Also once again I apologies for any grammatical errors.

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

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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

if y’all think i blog with my head you’re wrong.

this blog is run by pussy and sponsored by horny

I don’t understand when people complain about “likespamming.” If I see the same person 20 times in a row in my notifs, even if they don’t reblog anything or follow me, I’m excited that they came to my gay little museum and had a good time! That’s literally what it’s for!!

hello dark mode users :)

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Revenant - Chapter 1

word count: 4392

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

Chapter Summary: You discuss the mission a bit more in depth, and visit someone very important to you.

[Masterlist] - [Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

In Tenebra Fidemus - In darkness we trust. In Luce Vigemus - In light we thrive.

---

“Do you have any questions, [Y/N]?” James throws the last file into the fire. He assures you information will be clearer and more readily available once you touch down moon side.

“What of communication? How long is the delay to reach Earth?”

“Ah. You’ll be pleased to know that the Superluminal Communications used by the RDA allow for instantaneous interstellar communication between worlds. And naturally, we have set up our own private networks.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this. You had thought communication took as long as the commute; 6 years. You are happy to be wrong.

“There is a drawback, however, in that you can only send three bits of information per hour, and at the cost of $7,500 per bit. So do keep it as concise as possible, won’t you? And only when necessary.”

“Of course, James. Who shall be my contact on world? What of supplies? Gear?”

“Your on-world Handler shall be a woman by the name of Paz Socorro; a pilot with SecOps. She will be responsible for meeting any and all of your needs. Now in regards to your cover…”

James retrieves a thin black folder from his desk, handing it to you.

“You have two options. One – you will arrive as a Magistrate of the Interplanetary Commerce Administration. It is by their hand that the RDA has a monopoly on Pandora and the export of her resources. You will be there to oversee that the RDA adheres to the strict rules set by the ICA, less their monopoly be revoked. You will be given complete authority over the entire base in this instance; thus you shall be able to move about unhindered. We will also assign Miss Socorro as your personal pilot for the duration of your stay. The downside here is that, by being in such a position of authority, you will have eyes on you constantly. You may also encounter resistance from some personnel in both SciOps and SecOps.”

You nod quietly as he explains further.

“Two – you will be a bioengineer, sent at the behest of the RDA to work alongside Grace’s team. You will be researching ways to utilise the planets flora and fauna to combat disease, prolong human life, perhaps chemical warfare if you feel so inclined. We will forge the necessary scholarly documents as required. In this position, you will be far more inconspicuous; just another member of the SciOps team. However your interactions with Miss Socorro will be lessened, as we cannot guarantee she will always be your designated pilot in the field.”

You nod, crossing your arms as you consider the two options.

“What would you suggest, James?”

“Honestly? Option one. I believe it will make your life easier. No one will question your decisions, and even if they perhaps did, you may simply ask them under who’s authority do they operate. Anything you do, can be under the guise of the ICA’s interests, and never will you have to explain your reasonings. Conversely, you may use your position as a bioengineer to gain access to invaluable research on deadly fauna and how it could be used to eliminate your target. Either way worry not; you needn’t give your answer just yet. You have until tomorrow night to come up with the decision.”

“Tomorrow evening. A shuttle will collect you from your apartment at 2300 hours.”

‘That soon?!’ That left you barely any time at all to tie up any loose ends here on Earth. Without any true way to estimate the length of time you’d spend away, you wanted to make sure you left nothing behind undone.

“Time is of the essence my dear. Here, some light reading for you before your long slumber.” He hands you a book detailing the Na’vi language; aptly named the same.

“It’ll be lonely without you here…Try and come back in one piece won’t you? In Tenebra Fidemus.” He half bows with a hand flat on his heart.

“In Luce Vigemus.” You mimic his gesture. “Thank you James, for all you have done for me and mine. I will not disappoint.”

“I know...Good luck, [Y/N], and stay safe.” He places a firm hand on your shoulders, and you look up. Your eyes meet piercing silver. You commit his face to memory; the thick grey mop of hair he keeps styled back, the wrinkles strewn on his face, the crookedness of his mouth and the crease in his eyes when he smiles. Time has been unrelenting, aging him like fine wine.

He is old, you realise, and you suddenly ponder if he’ll be there to greet you upon your return. A round trip would be over a decade, and that’s without factoring in time spent planet side. The realisation sits heavy on your heart, for you now are certain this is perhaps the last time you shall see your father figure. Although he was the one to pull you into his dark world of blood and shadow, he still did more for you than your birth parents ever did.

You jump at him, wrapping your arms around his mid, burying your face into his chest. By sheer force of will you do not cry, but your shoulders shake still.

Words remain unspoken, unneeded, as he wraps his arms around you in turn. He knows precisely what you’re thinking. He holds you for a moment not yet long enough.

“Go. Before I try and change your mind.” He gently pushes you from him. You take his hand, squeezing the back of it to your cheek. Your eyes meet once more, and with a final determined nod, you turn and briskly walk out of the suite.

You don’t look back.

---

Descension was no less easier.

Your new mission weighs heavily upon your mind. You have faced dangers untold and hardships unnumbered in your pursuit of betterment. But to be pulled nearly 4 and a half light years away? Unthinkable. Inconsiderable.

But of course you had agreed; in actuality, there was little choice to be made. Denying would look poorly upon both you and your handler for a start, and you were not about to tarnish the reputation of the man that essentially raised you. More importantly, you thought of your dear brother, Tom.

As smart as he was, he was not built for combat. He was decidedly the smarter twin. Academically gifted , the man was inundated with PhD honours. He deserved the safety of his books, the certainty of walls and structure. What kind of sister would you be then, if you let his gentle soul venture into these uncharted wilds, leaving him at the mercy of this xenosanctuary?

Thus your choice was clear; you must accept the contract. You gave yourself a secondary mission then; eliminate all who would threaten the safety of your brother. From the lowest grunt, to The Director themself; no one would be spared your golden stiletto blades.

Family above all else.

---

A shuttle awaits you as you exit the premises after a quick shower and wardrobe change. You inform the AI of your destination, and with monotone acceptance, you’re off into the skies.

A song you don’t recognise plays, but you enjoy the feeling of the dark bass as it pulses through your bones.

Far off in the distance, thick grey clouds reach up towards an unseen sky. Deep orange cuts through the effervescent neon sea; the remnants of your last mission set ablaze.

You peel your eyes from the scene, dragging your gaze over the city below. Flashing lights, dancing holograms. The people move as one; a single living organism splintering itself into every nook and cranny, invading the dark crevices below.

And somewhere in this hell of concrete spires and minds of metal, your two brothers reside.

---

Tom’s apartment complex resides somewhere in the nicer part of town; if you can even call it that. The shuttle drops you off at a designated landing zone, several floors above where you need to be.

The moment your heel touches down, you’re off in a hurried gait. You become one with the crowd, pirouetting through the sea of warm bodies, avoiding their touch as you weave through. The air is thick, laden with the stench of garbage, street food, and something sickly sweet.

You pay no mind to the AI holos that vie for your attention, their faux voices disappear into the background as you press forward.  Advertisements in a language you don’t understand lick at your ears from all directions, drowned only by the sound of the locals around you; drunks arguing with any who look at them wrong, the not so sound of mind and their unintelligible ramblings, users openly abusing on the streets, even the faint moans wafting on the air from dark corners unseen.

You hate this cesspool of debauchery and sin. But time and time again, your brother refuses your offers to live with you. Your apartment is high in the clouds, far away from the lower dregs of society. It would be much safer you insisted, pleaded, but your brother is as stubborn as you are deadly. He doesn’t want to rely on you, wants to be able to stand on his own two feet. An intellectual prodigy, you often wonder if common sense was perhaps lost on him. Never the matter, you had him under constant surveillance. Thanks to your connections, the criminals operating in this sector know the resident of this apartment is off limits – no exceptions.

You arrive to his front door. With your knuckles, you perform a rhythmic set of taps; a secret signal to let him know it was safe to open, and whom to expect. You hear hurried footsteps from inside, a loud thump followed by muffled cursing. There is the distinct sound of things being knocked over, followed by more footsteps, and the fumbling of several locks. The door is wrenched open, and you are greeted with the flushed face of your beloved brother.

“[Y/N]!!!” He exclaims, grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into a hug. You return it with equal enthusiasm.

“Tommy! Sorry, did I come at a bad time? I hope I didn’t wake you.” You step into the apartment, closing the door and reengaging the  multitude of locks.

“No not at all! I’ve just been going through some of my notes from my dissertation.” He busies himself with picking up scattered papers and books strewn along the floor; no doubt the result of the scuffling you heard before. You make yourself comfortable on the couch.

“Don’t you already have a PhD?”

“Yeeeeees, but one can never be over prepared! Grace Augustine is a world renowned Xenobotanist and Xenolinguist. I have to cover all my bases if I want to impress her!” Your heart melts and your expression softens when you see the twinkle in his eye, and hear the fire in his voice.

“Tommy – you’ve already impressed her. You start training next year! I’m sure she’s just as excited for you to get there, as you are.”

“Maybe you’re right…” He gives you a shy smile, a small huff of a laugh leaves him as he rubs the back of his head. His expression morphs to confusion though as he gives you a thoughtful look.

“Hey, it is pretty late...What did you come by for? Not that you’re unwelcome or anything! It’s just, you know, later than usual…”

You cover your mouth as you giggle at his fumbling.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry! It’s good news actually!”

Tommy ceases his cleaning, and comes to sit beside you. He faces you, giving you his undivided attention.

“Soooo you know how I have that government job that I’m under strict contractual obligation to not divulge, under any circumstance, to anyone, ever?”

“You mean the very suspicious career that Jake and I are both convinced is actually you working as a high-class escort for the billionaires that run the world? Yes, please do go on.”

You make an offended gasp, but laugh as you playfully punch him in the arm.

“AAH! No! Stop! I’m sorry! I bruise easily!”

The two of you are in a fit of giggles as you continue to shove each other, which then devolves into the two of you grabbing couch cushions and start wailing on one another.

Tom holds up his hands in surrender, yielding to your superior strength. The conversation resumes once the two of you become calm once more and the laughter dies down.

“As I was saying—I’m being shipped off-world for my next big project.”

“Oh? Which colony are off to? Somewhere in the Zeta quadrant?”

You shake your head. You let him fire off a few more guesses, enjoying the frustrated look slowly developing on his face as he wracks his brain for an answer.

“Try something a little closer to home. Something you might one day be, intimately familiar with, as it were.”

He stares at you, brow furrowed with confusion.

Realisation then hits him, eyes widening.

“Noooooo…”

“Yeeeeees,” there is a tease in the tone of your voice as you nod with a widening smile.

“[Y/N]! Are you serious?! This is amazing!” Without warning he has you trapped in another hug, vigorously swaying side to side.

“I have so many questions! When are you going? What will you be doing? Will we be at the same RDA base? Is the government giving you your own Avatar? Have you been practising the Na’vi language? Have you even started? Would learning it even be beneficial to whatever it is you’re doing there?! What—”

“Tom!” Both of your hands are immediately cradling his head. It shuts him up instantly.

“Breathe bro. You know damn well I can’t answer, ANY of those questions! Ah well, except I’m actually getting flown out tomorrow night…”

“Tomorrow?! That’s so soon…” Tom grabs your hands in his, slowly lowering them to his lap. His eyes are cast downward. You can see his pupils shifting rapidly as his mind races with unknown thoughts.

Quickly his on his feet, releasing your hands. He sprints off into his room without a word. You call after him.

“Tom…?”

“One sec!”

After a few minutes, he’s right back in front of you, cradling a small black box.

“I was gonna wait till your birthday to give this to you—but seeing as I won’t see you for a few years…” He holds the box out to you.

The material is soft velvet, smooth under your skin. You let out a faint gasp when your eyes see the contents within.

A small pendant of silver, fashioned into the shape of a rose, with a ruby fastened into the centre; tied to a thin silver chain.

“Tom, it’s beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives you a self-assured smile, clearly quite pleased with himself. You turn around and he helps fasten it around your neck. It sits comfortably just below your clavicle.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“I know…But I wanted to give you something special, now that I can afford to. It’s made of platinum by the way, so it’s nice and durable.” You wordlessly nod, putting the small black box into your jacket pocket. Tom grabs both your hands in his, holding them up in the space between you two.

“…Listen. You always took good care of Jake and I, ever since…Well you’ve acted not only as our big sister, but also filled the shoes of mom and dad. And you know what? I’m happy it was you there, and not them. Seeing you work hard, coming home at ridiculous hours, but still finding time to spend with us? It must’ve been hard, having to grow up so fast…But you were always smiling—Hell I don’t remember you ever complaining, even when we were being brats for no reason…You’re one of, if not, the strongest person I know.”

There comes a painful throb in your chest, the soft silk of his words wraps itself around you, squeezing. Your eyes glisten with the promise of tears, but you hold steadfast to your emotions.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is, thank you. Thank you, for taking care of me. Without you, I wouldn't have gotten all those scholarships, wouldn’t have had the drive to get my PhDs, and probably wouldn’t be sitting in front of you right now. So, my beloved big sister [Y/N], thank you for being my family. I love you.”

And the dam breaks.

You crash into him, hugging him with all your might. Tears flow freely down your face as you wail uncontrollably. Hearing him say those things, suddenly makes everything you have done, everything you have sacrificed, worth it all. There is an almost indescribable feeling that washes over and through you. It brings about a peace you hadn’t known you needed. It was a reassurance that your brother was going to be okay—his future was secure, thanks you both yours and his efforts; all in spite of the rough start you had in life.

“TOOOOOM!!! IT’S OKAY!!! I’D DO IT ALL AGAIN FOR YOU GUYS!!! I LOVE YOU TOOOOO!!!” You bawl out, still crying.

Tom laughs as he pats your back.

---

“Here, just TAKE it. It’ll give me peace of mind!” You hold out your spare apartment keycard. He sighs at your antics.

Some time after you had finally calmed down, you brought up the idea that he should live in your apartment while you are away; look after the place as it were. He wouldn’t have to pay rent, as that was covered by your job, and it would be in a safer neighbourhood. Still he fights you on this. You pout at him, puffing your cheeks.

“You owe me for making me cry!”

“Oh my GOD fine! Give it here!” He grabs the card, and immediately you face turns to a victorious smile.

“Good. I’ll be gone by tomorrow, so you can start moving your stuff in the day after.”

Tom nods but stifles a yawn at the same time. You cast a glance at the clock on the wall, realising the time.

“I should probably head off then, it’s getting rather late, and you clearly need your beauty sleep.”

He swats your arm playfully, and calls you something in a language you don’t recognise as the two of you make your way to the door.

“What did you just call me?”

“Ha! It’s Na’vi for ‘moron’. Even if you don’t need to learn the language for your job, I suggest you do. Because even if we’re not at the same base, you better believe I’m going to annoy you every chance I get! Even if it has to be over comms.”

You roll your eyes at him as you undo the various locks. With the door open, you turn to your brother once more. You pull him into one final hug. This time the two of you remain quiet as you embrace.

Your stomach flips, an uncomfortableness settles deep within. This goodbye feels far too final, and you do not like that.

Hesitantly do you remove yourself from his embrace, taking a small step back and out into the cold.

“I’d say goodbye, but that doesn’t feel right. So, I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a confident smile.

“Yeah…See ya later [Y/N]. Have a safe trip home. And a safe journey too. Keep Pandora warm for me.”

With a tiny wave, you turn and slowly start the ascent to the shuttle bay. Before you disappear behind the next flight of stairs, you turn to meet his gaze once more. The two of you share one final wave and an exchange of smiles.

He knows you won’t move first, and so you watch him disappear safely behind his apartment door.

---

The penthouse is dark when you arrive. You remove your shoes, leaving them in the entryway. Your hands glide over the walls as you meander into the living room, collapsing on the couch.

You lay there for a few moments, idly playing with the pedant on your chest. You can feel sleep tugging at the recesses of your mind, threatening to take you in a moments notice. With a grunt you sit yourself up. You know you have to call Jake now; you’ll be far too busy tomorrow.

You heart feels heavy in your chest as you think of him. He was deployed into active service in Venezuela a few months back, and contact with him is few and far between. The odds of him picking up are unlikely, but you attempt to establish a connection anyway.

It rings and rings, but there is no answer. The AI offers for you to record a video message.

You sigh in defeat, saddened that you would not be able to speak with him before you leave. For you it would feel like days, maybe weeks till you spoke with him next. But for him, he’d have to wait 6 years before he hears from you again. Guilt gnaws away at you, but the situation is out of your hands. Despite your pleas, he was insistent on joining the marines. He was more adamant than ever once he was accepted and started their rigorous training.

Often he would call you all hours of the night, once he retired with his fellow recruits to their bunkers. And even though he looked battered and bruised, his smile was toothy and genuine. The comradery of his fellows made known as they always invaded his personal space when he was chatting with you.

“Yooo Sully!!! Aye, bro! Is that your missus?!” The face of a stranger pushes against Jake’s as they try and get a better look at you on the comm pad in his hands.

“No you dick—that’s my sister! Urgh, [Y/N] this is Waitara. Waitara, this [Y/N] my SISTER.” You hide your mouth behind your hand as you let out a soft giggle.

“Hiiii Waitara. I hope you guys are taking good care of my baby brother?”

“Ayyyye, I promise, we’re taking good care of this one!” He puts one arm around Jake, giving him a noogie in the process. You once again laugh at your brother’s annoyed reaction as he tries to swat the other man away.

“Well then you have my deepest thanks Waitara.”

“Aww Miss! You can just call me Matiu, means ‘Gift of God’—”

“OKAY Romeo that’s enough! Stop trying to flirt with my sister!” Jake interrupts Matiu with a hard shove to the side. You can hear him laughing at Jake’s expense off camera. You faintly hear him call out to the others, Jake rolling his eyes, and before you know it, you’re being introduced to the others; much to Jake’s annoyance.

You on the other hand are all smiles and laughter as they inundate you with embarrassing stories of Jake, plus variations of “Miss Sully! Look what I can do!”

You smile at the memory, but remind yourself you need to record this now lest you fall asleep.

You hit the button to begin the recording, and your image appears on the screen.

You give an enthusiastic wave to the camera and a wide smile.

“Hi Jake! How are you doing? I hope everything is uhh, as good as it can be…” Your smile falters when you realise the man is in active duty, not training. He could very well be on the battlefield right now, under enemy fire. You bite your lip to stop yourself from over-thinking. Unlike Tom, Jake was always a fighter. Where Tom excelled academically, Jake excelled physically. His confidence was easily backed by the strength of his heart, and the strength of his fist. You shake your head and continue.

“Urgh sorry. I know you’re on active duty right now and it probably sucks…But I have some good news! Uhh, though whether you think it’s good remains to be seen…Anyway! You know my job, government, classified, NDA yadda yadda. Well! I have been given a big new assignment to take on…And for it, they’re going to be shipping me off-world! It’s gonna take me 6 years to get there cuz it's about four and a half light years away…I was hoping to speak with you before I leave, but I guess the universe has other plans huh? I’d tell you where, but, ya know. NDA and all that…”

Unfortunately you couldn’t really speak of where you going, nor elude to what you were doing. Tom was also under restrictions in regards to his future work with the Avatar Program. The only reason he spoke of it to you was, one, you are his big sister and he was always going to spill the beans to you, risks be damned. But two, your ‘government job’ meant you were well entitled to be privy to such information. At least that’s how you spun it to him.

“Oh! I just came back from seeing Tom, look what he gave me, isn’t it pretty?” You lean in closer to the camera, showing off the pendant.

“Said it was for my upcoming birthday…” You go quiet again, but only for moment.

“Listen Jake. I don’t know how often, if at all, I’ll be able to get in contact with you once I touch down. It’s a pretty remote place, and the work I’m doing…Look I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you here on Earth while I go, chasing the stars or whatever. Everything I do, I do for you and Tommy. I love you guys, so, SO much. You’re my precious baby brother, and there isn’t anything in the entire God damn galaxy I wouldn’t do for you. I hope you know that… I love you Jake. Please stay safe out there. Come back to me in one piece? Love you, and I’ll see you later…”

You hit stop on the recording, sending it in one go.

There is so much more you want to say, so much more you feel you should say. But your emotions are running high, and you feel so utterly drained from everything that has happened, compounded with your worries for the future.

With conscious effort you drag yourself to the bedroom, changing into you usual sleep attire.

You move to throw yourself onto the bed.

You’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow.

---

[Masterlist] - [Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

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Author's Notes: And so the adventure begins. Thank you to @mechformers for her constant support and feedback! <3 Apologies for grammatical errors, hope you all enjoy this first step.

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The Lie of Providence - Chapter 1 - Dreamweaver

word count: 1257

Rating: Adult, Explicit (eventually) Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Romance, Redemption Arc, Angst, Comfort, Family, Sibling Shenanigans, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Dreams don't make sense, Eywa is testing you and you have not studied (chapters will come with their own tags/warnings if need be) Author's Note: I don't know what I'm doing LMAO! I havn't written fanfic in over a decade?? But I keep reading deliectable Quaritch x Reader fics so I got inspired to try my own! I hope you enjoy :)

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

<Master List> | 1 | <next chapter>

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

The first dream comes when you are 6. The nestling warmth of your family is suddenly gone; replaced with a thick humidity. It clings to you, wrapped almost too tightly. Awareness seeps into you as you realize you are no longer in your family’s embrace. You’re somewhere high up on a cliff, and in the distance you can see a large Home Tree.

Is that the old tree of the Clan? Strange. You’ve seen the large fallen tree when your parents flew you over and explained a little bit of where your clan used to live. But this tree is standing upright and strong. It’s so far away though.

A huff to your left immediately interrupts your thoughts. You head quickly snaps to the direction of the sound and you freeze. A few feet in front of you, someone is standing near the cliff edge. No tail. No blue skin. And far to big for his height to be another kid. This is no Na’vi. That is one of the sky people.

Your voice is caught in your throat, you don’t recognise this stranger from any of the Sky People at Hell’s Gate. He stands with his arms crossed and back to you. His hair is as white as your skin, while his skin is dark as though he’d been out in the sun far too long.

“That is one big damn tree.” You hear him say though the words have no meaning to you. Deciding you’d rather be anywhere but here you attempt so silently back away.

However, in your retreat you happen to knock a few stray pebbles abound. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and with a quickness you weren’t expecting he’s turned to look behind him.

Your eyes meet instantly as he says, “Who the hell’re you?”

And so you fall into darkness with a scream.

You wake up crying soon after; your cries alerting you mother and father and even little Neteyam; though he was more upset about the noise rather than you crying.

“[Y/N], my little atokirina, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” your mother whispers to you and she holds you tightly to her chest rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You explain to your parents through sobs your encounter with the scary looking man from the Sky People. You don’t see the concerned look they share with each other. After a beat of silence your mother tells you not to worry, it was only a dream, and that she and your father will always be there to protect you. The Bad Sky People left a long time ago.

You fall asleep to the quiet lull of your mother’s voice as she sings you a prayer to Eywa for pleasant dreams.

---

You don’t see the man, ‘Human’ as your father explained was the word in the Sky People’s language, again for a long while.

The next dream visits you when you are 7.

You recognise the colourless expanse of Hells Gate. Maybe you’ll see Spider! You giggle as you run through the familiar surroundings. Maybe uncle Norm is around too! As you run through what you think is the right direction to where they may be, you realise that, there is in fact no one around. The entire base is empty. No Humans. No Dreamwalkers. Huh.

The world around you bends and warps around you as you move through area to area. You’re under cover now. The area is large and looks like it goes on forever in all directions. All around you see the weird metal Ikrans of the Humans. There are the big bodies some Humans like to climb in, makes them taller than Dad. The thought makes you giggle. You’re tempted to climb all over one when you remember your father had scolded you once for the very same thing. You huff in annoyance and continue walking in a random direction.

Your sensitive ears suddenly pick up on a sound. The clink of metal. The grunts of a person. Curious as ever you let the sound lead you. You come upon a Human, laying on his back on a very thin bed. He’s holding a thick stick with weird shaped black rocks on either end. You quietly watch the strange spectacle as he lifts the stick up and down, making the grunting sound you heard before.

And as children often do, you don’t think before speaking.

“What are you doing?”

Your sudden voice startles the Human. And with a quick huff he puts the stick on the poles behind him. Quickly he sits up and your eyes met.

Oh.

It’s that Human.

The one from the dream a long time ago.

But this time you aren’t afraid. You’re a strong Warrior of the Omatikaya Clan! Or at least, you will be; when you’re as tall as Dad that is. But for now, you can at least be brave! That’s what Mum and Dad say all the Warriors of your clan are.

“What the--? How did some savage’s kid get here? Get lost kid.”

Strange. He’s definitely not speaking Na’vi. But you most certainly understood him.

“You’re mean!” You huff at him and cross your arms. He stares at you, brows furrowed, anger evident upon his face. He sighs and decides to simply ignore you completely. Swivelling his legs over the side of the strange thin bed, you watch him grab one of the smaller sticks off to the side.

You watch curiously as he slowly moves it up and down in one hand. Was this a Human game? You’ll ask Spider and uncle Norm when you next see them.

“Is this a game? Can I play too?”

“No.”

“No it’s not a game? Oooooor no I can’t play?” “Both.”

“What is it then?”

“Training.”

Ah. You understand that. Training. The Warriors train. The Hunters train. You train, and you become strong. And when you are strong, you help the Clan. Keep people safe. You like the sounds of that. So this Human must be a warrior? Training to keep other Humans safe? The forest IS dangerous you muse to yourself. You conclude he must be good then. He just looks a little scary with that strange face you don’t recognise. And those scary scars on the side of his face. Warrior scars you decide. Just like some of the grown-ups from the clan!

“What are you training for?” You are curious if he trains to protect or to hunt. Maybe something else? Humans are very fascinating.

He stops his movements suddenly and turns his head to you. A pit forms in your stomach. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It is angry. It is not nice. It feels like he is saying you do not belong. It is a look you have seen before, from some of the other children in the clan. You don’t like that look.

He stands up, dropping the stick as he does, it makes a loud BANG as it hits the floor, making you jump with a sudden fright though you don’t make a sound as you do. You do clasp your hands in front of you, your tail wrapping around your leg protectively.

He’s staring down at you with that same, evil look. And when he opens his mouth…

“So I can get rid of annoying brats like you.” He spits out at you and suddenly, he’s lunged straight for you.

And once again, you awaken with a start and a cry.

---

Author's Note: Sorry it's a little short! I'm just testing the waters so to speak :P

---

<Master List> | 1 | <next chapter>

Resplendent

word count: 1220

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.

Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~

Sa’nu - mum, mommy

Tahni - bioluminescent freckle

Close your eyes.

Deep breathes.

Remember the moves.

Remember the words...

Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.

“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”

You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.

You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.

“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.

“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.

You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.

With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.

---

Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.

The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.

When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.

He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.

Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.

Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.

You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.

Your soft lips.

How he wishes he could kiss you right now.

You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.

Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.

With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.

The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.

It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.

He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.

And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.

His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.

He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.

You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.

As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.

Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.

Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.

He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.

You turn to face the horizon, and his gaze drifts to his girls.

They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.

And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.

His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.

---

One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.

You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.

You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.

You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.

The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.

Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.

Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.

You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.

But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.

---

Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢

Is this true? This how it works? I did wonder why I kept seeing some of my fav writers reblogging their own stories 🤔

!!!ATTENTION!!!

IF YOU ARE NEW ON MY PAGE AND OR NEW ON TUMBLR LISTEN UP

If you do NOT reblog anything on anyone's post, and only like someone's content PLEASE know that this is not TikTok, creators do not get exposure from likes, they get exposure from REBLOGING,

YOU NEED TO REBLOG STUFF!!!!!

I do not post stories or one shots or short fanfics or any type of art myself but I have friends on this app that do and they do not get the exposure that they deserve I know creators who have stopped creating content or want to stop making content because they feel as if no one likes there content that they created because they were not getting EXPOSURE!!!!

Again I get it if your new, but if you have been here for a while YOU NEED TO START REBLOGING

If it seems like I'm angry, I'm not. I'm just frustrated for my friends and other content creators that I love who are not getting enough exposure who are really really talented like these amazing people who write

@auntvamp @beoneofus @pixielostboy @immortal-velociraptor @myers-meadow @phantomenby @redrosewritingsstuff @lauraneedstochill @prettywhenibleed @sunshinewwx @st-danger @undyingghoul @theyre-only-noodles-michael @luminnara @henhouse-horrors @komotionlessqueenmm @thoushallnotfall @bloodybrahms and @a-supernatural-writer

And also these lovely people who do art/drawing @ominouscrypt and @feuvyper and I'm positive there is more but I couldn't find them, ANYWAY BACK TO THE POINT

You need to start rebloging or people will stop making your favorite content, these are people, human people who deserve way more than they are getting and You Guys Need To Start Caring More, because what happens when they lose motivation to write or to draw because no one is looking at the amazing shit and rebloging them, they work so hard to please people and then y'all treat them like shit, and you guys wonder why people quit writing, making art, and writing poetry it's because they aren't getting exposure

Open your fucking eyes and start rebloging shit on this app or your favorite content creator may just stop posting