@mechformers You And Me Trying To Out-compliment Each Other Lmao 😂❤️🤭

What Do I Tell My Friends Family - Masterlist

Pairing: Human/Recom/Na'vi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, p in v - each chapter will have it's own tags

Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

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Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww

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!

Aye yo wtf I had this exact problem today! I was editing stuff and JUST so happened to check links and realized they were broken! :/ Fixed now but wtf.

idk but for me every single link in your masterlist isn't working?

Oh no :( anyone else having the same issue??

Tbh I have no idea what to do or how to fix this, they still work for me 😵‍💫

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 6 - Venom to My Ears

word count: 3745

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: hurt, anger, no comfort, bullying, dysmorphia, lots of crying

Author's Note: And we're back! Sorry this took soooo long to come out! Haha, totally got distracted by WDITMF  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway apologies for any grammatical errors as usual!

“blue text” is spoken Na'vi.

‘Italics’ are thoughts.

iortsyal = a pandorian butterfly

[previous chapter] | 6 | [next chapter]

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You remember it quite clearly.

You were 14 then, and it happened so unexpectedly. Tarsem has taken 3 other teenagers, boys them all, under his tutelage as future hunters and warriors.

From the beginning you could tell these 3 were a close nit group, perhaps friends since their younger years. Rokan (15) is the leader, whilst Ru’ak (14) and Teka (14), the twins, were his little followers.

They paid you no mind, as far as you can tell; just another trainee they only saw when they spent time with Tarsem.

A spar was called between you and Rokan, Tarsem wanting to assess both of your progress thus far.

Late in the afternoon, the group found a small clearing, you and Rokan front and centre, the twins somewhere behind Tarsem off to the side.

You readied yourself; low crouch, find your centre, just like father taught you. Rokan stands tall, starts walking to the side as if to circle you. You mimic his movements, making sure to keep him in front of your line of sight.

However this is what he had wanted, had predicted. When he felt the sun kiss his bare back, he rushed you without warning. You squinted as the sun assaulted your sensitive eyes. But that wasn’t what you were paying attention to, no.

You stared only ahead at the figure coming at you. Drenched in gold, you think you have never seen such ethereal beauty. The evening light explodes behind him as he approaches, casting his front in shadow. You feel the rapid pounding of your heart, the quickness of your breath.

He is on you before you can even blink. Tackled to the ground, he pins you and you flail wildly, trying to free yourself, but it is of little use.

“Enough. Separate.” Tarsem calls from the side lines. Rokan obeys without question, the twins hollering his praises. You sit up and watch his retreating back as he makes his way over to them. ‘Was he always that athletic?’ the thought catches you so completely off-guard you let out a quiet ‘eep’! Covering your mouth, you get up in a rush and move to your side. You don’t see the quick glance Rokan does behind himself to look at you.

A few more matches, and a few more pins to the ground, Tarsem calls it. 8 matches, 8 losses. Rokan is full to the brim with pride. He has beaten Tarsem’s star pupil, firstborn of the Olo'eyktan, and he couldn’t be happier.

Tarsem sends the 3 boys off. They eagerly scurry away, playfully pushing each other, arms wrapped around each other’s neck in brotherly fashion. You watch them, envious almost. Yes, you do have the friendship and comfort of your many siblings; but there some times when, you wish you too had friends closer to your age. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter to you.

“[Y/N].” Tarsem addresses you, pulling your attention from the boys.

“Yes???” You respond, flustered at being caught staring.

“You were distracted today.”

You’re not sure if he’s making a statement or asking you.

“Yes, Tarsem. I…apologise. It will not happen again.” He has his arms crossed and nods at you, waving you off for the evening.

You bid him farewell and begin the trek to your next lesson.

“He is a very handsome young man though.” Tarsem calls from behind you. You stop dead and turn to face him, face flushed red, mouth agape in horror. Tarsem only smiles widely trying his best to stifle a laugh. You hasten your retreat to a full-on sprint, all the while you can hear Tarsem’s laugh slowly fading behind you.

---

Ok.

So you think he’s cute.

Handsome even.

Big deal.

So what???

No really. So what?

You have no idea what to do with this information. It’s not as if you’re overflowing with spare time to pursue, whatever this is. A silly crush. Nothing more. But this was the first time you’ve ever experienced romantic feelings in any capacity.

As a result, you unfortunately start noticing him around the village more. You wonder if he often frequented the same areas as you. Did you perhaps never notice until now?

He never approaches you, nor do the twins. Always does he simply greet you with a smirk and quick gesture of the hand. By Eywa, that smile. That damned smile. You feel heat rush up your neck to your cheeks every accursed time. How embarrassing.

A few weeks pass, and something most unexpectedly happens.

He does in fact, approach you.

“[Y/N]!” He waves you down, jogging up to you, the other two not far behind.

“Ro-Rokan! Ru’ak and Teko too. What can I do for you three?”

“Are you free right now? We’re about to head out into the forest, and wanted to know if you wanna join us?”

“M-me?” You curse yourself for stammering in front of him.

“Of course! We’re all warriors in training together. Makes sense to me that we should get to know each other a little better, don’t you agree?”

Your heart feels as though it’s doing flips against your ribcage. You inwardly squeal with joy. As luck would have it, this was your day of rest, so you indeed had free time!

“Y-yes of course! I’d be happy to!” You fondly smile upward to the taller boy, brimming with excitement.

You had remained cordial with the other teens of the clan around your age, but you’ve never actually hung out with any of them. This was your chance to amend that, and actually make friends outside the family. That thought alone has iortsyal fluttering in your stomach.

---

The three of you stop at the edge of the village. Rokan teases you with a smirk, challenging you to keep up. Your heart skips, and you feel heat on your cheeks.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and immediately rushes off into the forest. You don’t think twice before you’re immediately on his trail, the twins keep pace behind you.

You barely register the world around you, relying solely on your instincts to guide you forward. Your eyes are fixed to the azure back just a few branches ahead of you. You become hypnotised by the lean muscle, and swallow thickly as a sheen slowly spreads upon his broad back.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of these thoughts before they fall into depravity. You can’t afford to be distracted, not out here at least. The forest is dangerous if you are caught unawares. With renewed focus, you push yourself harder, urging yourself to go faster. You feel the fire of your muscles burning, the ache of your pounding heart, but you relish in the feeling; it is a reminder of your strength, of your training, of being alive.

Up ahead, the spaces between the last tree and the next is too large to clear with a jump, but their branches connect in a bend to the left. You see Rokan veer to the side, taking the safe part. He is still a little ways ahead of you.

You look at the drop, contemplating the odds of you making the jump. It is then you notice the thick vines dangling in the empty space. You smirk to yourself and move even faster than you thought yourself capable of.

You don’t hear the twins both yell out to you as you launch yourself forward, hand outstretched. Your eyes briefly meet Rokan’s as you look to your left. His widen in shock as he watches you fly through the air. Your hands meets vine, and you grab with all your might.

You use the momentum of your flight to propel yourself forward to another vine, repeating the motion once again, before you launch yourself at the flattened branches of the tree ahead. You lurch forwards, coming into a roll as you land. The momentum pushes you forward, and you are instantly back into a sprint.

One quick glance behind and you see Rokan’s shocked face as he just finishes the detour. You don’t even see the twins. You laugh loud and breathlessly, yelling out to them to keep up and to stop being so low. You refuse to wipe the smile off your face as you continue forward. You’re not sure when last you had this much fun. It felt different from when you play with your siblings. There was just something about being around people your own age. Your heart swells with an unknown feeling, and it only makes you smile wider.

From the vantage point in the trees, you can see a large body of water in the distance. It is framed by a cliff side with a waterfall. The darkness of its colour lend credence to its depths. If this was the direction Rokan was going, then it stands to reason that this plunge pool was surely the destination.

You run along the thin branch stretching over the water, and dive down, head first, without hesitation.

In the blink of an eye you’re surrounded by the biting cold of water. You make it half way to the bottom of the pool, before you change direction and start swimming to the top. You breach the surface, taking one big gulp as you make your way to the nearest edge. You pull yourself out, flopping onto your back with a heavy thud. Your eyes are unfocused as you lay there, staring up into the canopy. Your breathing is laborious, and every muscle aches something fierce.

It doesn’t stop the giggle that bubbles up inside you; bursting forth in a cacophony of laughter. You let out a triumphant howl, pumping your firsts into the air victoriously.

---

Rokan sees the gap approaching, and knows he can’t make that jump. He sees the side path, and takes it. He’s almost half way when he hears the twins yelling your name somewhere behind him. He looks to his right and is completely stunned by what he sees.

Your silvery form soars through the sky, arm outstretched. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments, before you look forward once again. There is a falter to his step as he watches you clear the gap by swinging on the vines. You’re so far ahead now. He sees you look back once he makes it back to the path. He barely makes out your laughter and the tease you throw to the wind for them to keep up.

He stops dead in his tracks.

The twins finally catch up, you’re naught but a white smudge in the distance against the dark greens of the forest.

“This is far enough.” He tells the twins, holding out his arm to stop them from advancing. They stand there silently, the only sound their laboured breaths. Rokan lets out an amused huff as he sees you disappear when you take the dive.

“Heh…Unbelievable.” He shakes his head. He stares at where you once were for but a moment longer, before turning back and making his way toward the village.

“Let’s go.” The twins nod and follow him without question.

---

Ten minutes pass; it instead feels something akin to an hour. Anxiety weaves it way into you, deep into the pit of your stomach. There was no sound of bodies hitting water. No laughter from rambunctious boys catching up to you.

You sit on your knees beside the water, soaked, hands clenched tight. Your body starts shaking involuntarily.

At first, you thought perhaps they were afraid to dive, and were searching for a safer way down. But as each minute passed by, the truth became clearer.

They had left you. For reasons you have yet to conjure, they had abandoned you here. You fight the quiver of your lip as tears sting your eyes. But as you are now, you are powerless. You fall to your sudden grief, letting out a straggled cry as tears flow free. You wrap your arms around yourself as you weep.

You are cut deep by unpleasant emotions. These are feelings you are unaccustomed to.

Why did they leave you?

Did you do something to offend them?

What were they thinking?

Did they even want to hang out with you in the first place?

Was this their plan all along?

Were they ever intending to be your friend?

Questions like this flood your mind, drowning you in a sudden wave of self-doubt.  You let loose a scream until your throat burns.

---

Time passes, and your tears eventually dry. You look at your reflection in the water, and nearly recoil. Your face is red, eyes puffy, angry streaks of dried tears paint your cheeks. You stare intently at yourself then, taking in the golden threads of your braids, and the starlit white of your skin.

You wonder then, if things would have played out differently, had you been born normal looking.

You frown, clenching your teeth as you feel anger slowly start to burn within. You swat away the image angrily, wildly splashing the water about.

It was no secret to you, that you were born different. But it never bothered you. Your family treated you no different from your siblings, and by Eywa neither did any of the Sky People.

So why now? Why them?

…Were they the only ones?

You shake your head, pulling yourself from yet venturing down that train of thought. You take a moment to wash your face. The cool water helps ground you, calming you. You drink deep, sighing contently.

You pull yourself to your feet, and take stock of where exactly you are. You observe your surroundings, trying to find familiarity with the Great Mother’s design. But none of the surrounding area invokes any sort of recognition. You look up into the canopy, and you can vaguely make out the thin branch you dove from. It would seem, the only way back to that tree would be to scale the waterfall. Wonderful.

You sigh in defeat, but nonetheless make your way around the pool to some outcroppings you can scale.

The climb would not normally wind you, but your body still aches from the strain of your sprinting prior. Your mind still reels, broiled in anger from everything that has transpired.

With an angry grunt, you hoist yourself up to the top of the cliff.

You look up from your crouched position, and freeze.

All of your anger, all of your sadness, every turbulent emotion, is rend from your body.

You mind goes blank, mouth suddenly dry, mind blank.

You do not blink.

Drinking from the stream, nought but a few feet away, is a palulukan.

An adult palulukan.

The creatures ears are pointed toward you. It clearly heard you, but did not turn its head to regard you, instead choosing to finish its drink.

There is a lump in your throat, but you are too shaken to even swallow. Fear overwhelms you, and you are unable to move. To run. You know you should let the fear pass over and through you. But repeating mantras was not the same as putting it into practice.

You curse those boys, but most of all, you curse yourself. You should have paid attention. You should have known better. Had you been smarter, more aware, maybe you would have noticed you were running straight into palulukan territory. Your mind is too frazzled to even send silent prayers to the Great Mother.

You don’t even have any of your decent weaponry on you. Fuck.

The creature finishes its drink, and licks it lips before turning its head in your direction.

But when your eyes meet, something strange happens. You expect the creature to growl lowly, lower its stance, as if ready to pounce.

Instead, once your eyes meet, it freezes.

You barely have time to make a confused face, before the palulukan lets out the most terrifying roar you have ever heard.

But it is not the roar of an apex predator warning prey to run.

This was something of fear.

It snarls and bares its fangs, banging its front paws into ground as it roars at you again. But it never moves closer, staying exactly where it was. Still you are frightened by its very visage.

You flinch.

With swiftness you wish you possessed, the creature suddenly turns and sprints off deeper into the forest.

You sit stock still as you listen to its fading footfalls.

‘What was that?’

‘By the Great Mother, what the fuck was that?!’

You bring your hands up to your face, and realise you are shaking. Adrenaline still courses through your veins. You launch yourself up, and sprint in the opposite direction of where the beast ran.

You dare not turn around.

---

You make it back to village, but you are far from unscathed.

Small cuts mar your skin. In your haste to escape, you became carless; tripping and tumbling over yourself. Your lucky your hands and feet remain clear, but the same cannot be said for your arms and legs. The adrenaline stops you from feeling any pain.

You stop yourself once you make it into the village, bracing yourself on a nearby tree. You fall to your knees, huffing and puffing. You hand clenches your chest as you desperately try to calm your beating heart; it feels as though it will burst forth from your chest.

“Well, look who made it back! Took you long enough, freak.”

You feel yourself go rigid. The voice beside you, addressing you, belongs to none other than Rokan. You don’t move to look at him. Not that it matters. He instead moves to be in your line of sight. You force yourself to look up and at him. He’s smirking down at you, arms crossed over his chest. You vaguely register the twins standing behind him, crouching to be at your level. They’re quietly laughing as they point at you, whispering to each other.

You struggle with all your might to stand up straight, using the tree as leverage. But your legs are threatening to give out, and you painfully slump back against the tree with a pained grunt.

The boys laugh at you.

His words slice into you. But it is not the clean cut of a swift blade. This is serrated, cutting into you slowly with meaningful precision.

“You really are pathetic, you know that? I can’t believe Eywa cursed Toruk Makto. I’m honestly surprised you even made it back alive right now. How stupid were you to not even notice where we were running, hm?”

“Oh well, and here I thought I could be rid of you…”

“W-why…? I haven’t done…anything…to you…” Getting the words out is laborious as you desperately try to catch your breath.

“Pfft! Why? Is this skxáwng serious?” He playfully nudges one of the boys beside him.

“Let me clue you in on a little secret, freak. We don’t like you—I don’t like you! And did you think I wouldn’t notice? The way you look at me? Disgusting. As if I would ever be interested in a freak.”

You flinch at his words, and cast you gaze downward; too ashamed to meet his eyes.

“Did you really think because you were the daughter of Olo'eyktan, of Toruk Makto, that it made you special? Look at yourself! Your Sky People hair. That pale skin. You will never be true Na’vi. Face it, [Y/N]…Eywa cursed you. Honestly, I was doing the clan a favour by leaving you there.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard your name said with such disgust, in your entire life. You don’t know what to do, how to react. The deep gnawing pit in your stomach grows with the pain in your heart. You can’t help the silent tears that fall.

There is no sympathy to be had. Rokan simply laughs at you.

“Aww, Rokan. You made it cry, that’s so mean~!” You dare to look up, and feel the cracks in your heart splinter. A girl approaches, nestling herself into Rokan’s side as she stops beside him. You recognise her. Vekya. You were acquaintances at best. What little interactions you two had were always cordial as far as you can recall. But the sneer on her face speaks volumes. Had she always looked at you like this, when you back was turned?

How many in the clan felt the same then?

You’re overcome with anxiety once more. You can’t be around them. Not under their stares. Not under their eyes.

And so you run.

You hear their laughter fade into the background as you sprint away, not entirely caring where you end up.

---

You hiccup as you cry at the recollection, your throat clenching painfully. You want to continue, but it would seem your body has other ideas.

Your mother stares at you, the hold on your hands almost painful.

She sees the tears streaming down your face.

She sees the pain in your eyes.

The scars of your heart.

The sorrow in your soul.

And she sees...

RED.

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[previous chapter] | 6 | [next chapter]

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Author's Note: So you may notice your age is lowered. I went back and decided I want reader to be a bit younger. Also I changed that you and Miles haven't given each other your names yet. Thank you to everyone for your patience!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! I also started a permanent taglist, so if you want to be on that instead, let me know :) Also if your name isn't underlined, it means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

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Perma-Taglist: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname

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Fic Taglist: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @perseny @manymaria111 @mooniequeen @ndjhs7 @liuope @bucky12345 @maki-z @diosmilkymommers @misscaller06 @lovekeeho @a--1--1--3 @grimistangel @r3dc4ndy @alexqueenbee

Bish wtf that was beautiful 😭😍🥰

— 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

the lowdown — neytiri’s his first love, but you’re his forever…he swears.

the who — jake sully x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 3.2k

the tags & warnings — possible language, she fell first / he fell harder, first love / last love, arguable tension

the notes — based on this request ! ideally this takes place before anyone dies & everyone is happy :) 

masterlist

You and Jake have always been a sticky situation.

Because it didn’t always start with the two of you. At first, he had eyes for someone else, could only bear the thought of being with one person in the whole of Pandora, and that came in the form of the clan’s most important daughter. And you watched from the outskirts, watched as lessons in life turned into lessons of love.

To be frank, you don’t know when the adoration started, when the feelings began to bloom. Your heart was arid territory, but the seeds were planted and the roots were festering.

Maybe it was his dedication to the people, spirit one with the village. He was allegiant to Pandora down to every last blade of grass, every leaf, every insect. And he was kind, offered his heart and full efforts to every endeavor.

You admired him silently, learned to love him quietly, even as the passion between him and Neytiri swelled until it was ready to burst.

You hadn’t really realized that he’d noticed you until one day nestled among the trees.

“Is this where you disappear to everyday?”

Your neck swivels so hard, you almost get whiplash. The project you’re working on, another satchel to replace your own, bunched tight in your fists as your eyes scan the expanse of forest floor wildly.

Jake stands a few meters below, hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger strapped across his broadening chest.

All that sounds in the quiet between you is the bobbing of your throat as you swallow, eyes wide and unblinking.

“You don’t really talk much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t, not when you’re used to blending into the edges, spending your days lounging around village grounds and finding odd and ends to tend to.

“Nothing?” Jake presses, weight shifting as he peers up at you.

“Not everyday,” is your only response, still unmoving from your perch on the branch.

Jake only nods, conversation coming to a painfully quick lull.

“What are you up to?” he prods, shifting again.

“A bag.”

Your cheeks are warm under his unrelenting gaze, mouth dry because you’ve spent months admiring him from afar, watching him slowly meld into becoming one of the people.

“A bag,” he repeats.

You nod.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds an awful like a humorless laugh and he scratches the back of his neck. He’s folding his cards first this time around, unsure of how to trod such uncertain territory with you.

“See you around, ________,” he says, giving you a playful salute as he peels away.

Your heart skips as he saunters off, timbre of his voice sweet around your name.

Jake continues to find you in that spot often.

Graduated from holding brief conversations from different elevations to propping against adjacent branches enjoying your company, he comes to find out that you're awfully shy. 

Painfully so. But when he makes you laugh, and you timidly smile with full heart, he feels your facade crumbling.

And as chance meetings after duties turn into promises, you can’t help but wonder what's changed. Every moment with you means a moment unspent with his lover. It makes equal parts pride and dread swell in the pit of your stomach.

Whispers about him ripple through the village, that he’s learning quickly, catching onto the way of the people with great ease. There’s talk of a ceremony, of accepting him as one. It makes something sour, bitter, curdle inside of you in the ugliest way possible.  

Because a ceremony means selection and selection means solidifying the relationship he has with the leader’s daughter. It means no more limbo and the time you’ve spent trying to guard your wanting heart is shot to shit. 

It considerably dampens your mood, something that takes Jake a mere glance over your body language to read. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observes, head tilting to the side. 

You bite the inside of your lip, eyes golden and gooey. They’re the only thing that betrays the stoic expression that colors the carve of your jaw and the curve of your cheekbones. 

It takes every ounce of effort to not visibly melt at the way you carry yourself. 

He doesn’t know when it started with you, how you could have possibly caught his attention when all you did was wash out in the background, bleed through the edges. But you had. Had captured his attention enough for him to second guess such a fleeting barrage of emotions when it came to the future tsahik. 

Neytiri was a force to be reckoned with, but you were a gentle gust of embracing wind. Jake didn’t feel any pressure with you, didn’t feel like he was wearing the skin of someone else. He felt like him. 

“Our time will end,” is all you say. 

It takes him a moment, but he notices the slick of your lashes, the almost imperceptible hiccup. 

His five-fingered hand cradles your chin, and for the briefest of breaths, you want to ease away, want to put as much distance as you could between you and the very one who has the power to nurture and shatter your heart all the same. But something glimmers like liquid gold in Jake’s eyes and you crumple.

“Why is that?” he whispers. “What makes you say so?” 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” you ask.

There is no malice in your tone, only a lingering thread of defeat. 

“Far from it,” Jake answers, nudging you to meet his gaze when your eyes flicker away. “You are the most intelligent and capable person I know.” 

Your breath hitches and you swallow down a petulant rebuttal. 

“I hear what they say about you, Jake Sully,” you say lightly. “They want to make you one of us.” 

A gentle smile twitches upon his lips, something triumphant flickering over his features. 

“You against it?” he asks, eyebrows quirking.

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide his hand from your face. When you try to pull away, he threads your digits together, tugging you so that you shift closer to him. 

“You do great things for the Omatikaya,” you say. “They are very proud of you.” 

“Are you?” he presses. 

“Am I what?” you ask, voice caught in your throat. 

Jake draws you impossibly closer. You can make out the constellations of blemishes on his face, the smattering of glowing freckles across the expanse of his muscled chest. 

“Are you proud of me?” he wonders. 

It’s a loaded question, one that makes a shiver rip down your spine and your cheeks to warm. 

Of course you were proud of him. You’d watched him from afar for far too long, had seen every accomplishment, every failure. Had seen the spectrum of his emotions, every jubilant moment and bouts of discouragement. 

“Yes,” you answer simply. “Very.” 

The smile that cracks the lush of his mouth makes you swallow hard. 

“Good,” he hums. “I’m glad.”

He’s searching your face, eyes glazed as he takes in all of you before him. The silence is thick, pierceable by the bluntest of edges. When you show no intentions of breaking the quiet, Jake speaks again. 

“Now tell me,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. “Why is our time ending?” 

Your lips purse and something like annoyance shutters over your pretty face. 

“The tsahik’s daughter has made her intentions with you very clear,” you say, trying to sweeten the acidic words on your tongue. “You cannot waste anymore moments with the likes of me.” 

Jake bites back the widening of his smile, but he can’t help it, not when this encounter solidifies every suspicion he’s had about you and him. 

“You’re right,” he says simply. “Neytiri’s asked her parents for their blessing for us.” 

You try not to let the disdain cloud your features, try to tamp down the twitch of your frown, but you can’t get anything past him, not when Jake’s favorite subject to study is you. 

“I’m sure they are delighted,” you respond, making a move to peel your fingers from his. 

Your chest is tightening and your vision is clouding. 

His grip squeezes and the film of tears that sheen your eyes makes his heart go soft. 

“They do approve,” he adds, pausing to pick his next words carefully. “But…”

Your gaze flicks to meet his again, heart stuttering when you find that his gaze hasn't left your form. His eyes are mapping every one of your features, pausing a moment too long on your lips. 

Your cheeks blaze.

“But?” you fill. 

“I refused,” he replies thoughtfully. 

He could laugh, the way your lips part, brow bones shooting up as your eyes blow wide. 

“Why would you–” 

“My heart belongs to someone else,” he finally admits. “It has for a long time and it was stupid of me to think that I could ignore it.”

“Oh—” Your breath hitches. 

“But I can only act on my heart if she’ll have me,” he says, searching your eyes. 

“Do you think she—” 

Jake breathes out a laugh, tugs you so that your front presses against his, close enough to feel the fan of his breath against your lips, to smell the delicious spice of bathing herbs clinging to his balmy skin.

“You’re torturing me here,” he groans, throwing his head back. 

You see the way his Adam's apple bobs and you fidget in your seat. 

“I—”

“Jesus Christ, love, put me out of my misery and tell me you’ll have me, please.”

You only manage a noise of surprise before his hand cups the back of your neck to guide you forward, lips pressing desperately against yours. His mouth is warm and when he leans into you, you taste the sweetness of berries on his tongue. 

His hands wander, gliding over the smooth expanse of your flesh like he’s committing every curve and edge of your body to his memory. 

“Wait, wait,” you whisper breathlessly. “What about Neytiri? She… She loves you.” 

Jake’s dazed, disoriented because the taste of you makes him far more delirious than he’d expected. 

He presses his forehead against your own. 

“She’s got nothing on you, angel.” 

Everything shifts on its axis after that, but there’s one thing in particular that remains—the seed of doubt that had rooted that sunny day under the canopy of the jungle’s oversized leaves. 

Perhaps you’re being cynical, a little paranoid, but Jake’s yet to claim you before Ewya despite officially becoming one with the people. And you could stomach it, the idea that maybe he’s just prioritizing a smooth shift into life with the clan, but lately he’s been sneaking around, blowing you off. 

You don’t want to give that niggling feeling of insecurity any stock, not when he’s so lovely to you when you two are intertwined, but you happen upon them by chance and you feel stupid. It was silly, really, to expect Jake to cut ties so abruptly when his fickle heart used to all but thrum for the future tsahik. 

They laugh on the embankment, sitting a little too close for comfort.You want to look away, tell yourself that you’re being too much, but he hesitantly tucks a braid behind her ear and your breath hitches in tandem with hers. 

You can’t force yourself to expel the breath in your lungs, eyes locked on their figures like your pupils are tethered. 

You wish you didn’t stick around, wish you’d just continue on in ignorance, because as Jake leans to give Neytiri a closer look at whatever he’s toying with in his hands, the distance starts closing between them. 

They look like they belong together, two bodies that perfectly fuse.

“Oh—” You hadn’t meant to make a sound, wanted to escape quietly, but just as easily as the breadth between the two of them had closed, a chasm forms between their lithe bodies. 

“________?” he calls, voice layered with alarm. 

You turn on your heel, pushing through the curling foliage with blurring vision. 

“Hey, ________, wait!” he calls out, feet splashing from the water as he climbs from where he’d been sitting with his ankles plunged beneath the surface. 

When his footfalls fast approach and his fingers wrap around the width of your forearm, you quickly dash away the pooling tears before turning to face him head on. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, cupping your rounded cheeks in his palms. 

His fingertips glide down the length of your neck, brushing over your shoulders as he examines you. 

You shake your head quickly, forcing down the insecurity that bubbles hot like magma under your burning skin. 

“Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat before finally meeting his worried gaze. 

“Oh, come on,” he sighs, pushing the hair from your face to take a better look. “It’s just me, ________. You can tell me the truth.” 

You lick your drying lips before gently breaking away from him. 

“It’s nothing, Jake,” you reassure him with a small smile. “I’m just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to protest, taking a step towards you. 

“Jake Sully!” Tsu’tey’s voice thunders through the forest as he claps a hand down on his comrade’s shoulder.

Jake turns a warning eye towards him, mutters that now isn’t the time as he swats his hands away, but when he turns to face you, you’re gone. 

You feel guilty. 

Guilty because you fear that you’ve blown things way out of proportion, guilty because Jake’s reserved to giving you your space after another failed attempt at coaxing you from your shell. And infinitely so because he holds you close, when your breathing is steady and you drift in and out of sleep. You hear him, like the gentlest of lullabies. 

I love you. 

It haunts you, those three words. And you guess you’re no better than him. The weight of solidifying your union before Ewya is a heavy one, Jake knows this. But such human words weigh the same to him. And you know that to hear such a lofty sentiment rasp from your soft voice is all he could ever want. 

“He is at his wit’s end, you know?” 

You pause your laundering, allowing your loincloths and woven tops to sink back to the shallow bed of the river. When you crane your neck to find the source of the voice, you’re surprised to find Neytiri leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. 

Your response is delayed. 

“...Huh?” 

“Jake,” she says simply, and your cheeks warm. “You worry him.” 

You turn back to your chore, spine stiffening when something rustles and Neytiri moves to sit next to you. 

“May I?” she asks, reaching for one of your intricately beaded tops. 

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to meet her sharp gaze. 

“I was hurt when he denied my parent’s blessing,” she says casually, like the thought alone doesn’t make your heart ache for the tsahik’s daughter. You can’t help it. “But I wasn’t surprised.” 

Your head snaps up, meeting her eyes reluctantly. 

“When I first brought him back to the village,” she says, wringing the corded fabric. “You caught his eye, but you didn’t even glance his way.” 

And truthfully, you hadn’t. Dreamwalkers were trouble and you had no intention of ever crossing paths with him. But then you began to see more and more of him, began to feel the weight of his presence on the village and you couldn’t help but give into the fall. 

“He started asking about you,” she laughs quietly. “Every time he’d see you. Said that you never paid him any mind no matter how close he got.” 

You roll your lips nervously, watching the way she reaches for another one of your garments and washes with increasing frustration. You almost miss the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I wished for so long that he would let it go, let you go, but you have a hold on him, ________,” she rasps. 

You blink in disbelief, shaky fingers reaching to touch her own. 

Her face tilts towards yours and her grip on the fabric loosens. 

“Jake Sully is a good man,” she whispers. “Don’t waste something good because you are scared. It will not only be a disservice to him or me, but yourself.” 

You swallow, nodding slowly. 

“I’m–” you take in a shuddering breath as your head bows. “I’m sorry.” 

A wet hand comes up to your cheek. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Neytiri coos. “Just be grateful. Be fearless. It is Eywa’s will.” 

Jake almost thinks you’re a vision when he sees you making quick strides towards him. He breaks away from the circle of villagers just as you press yourself into his chest and those not privy to his relationship with you watch with widened eyes. 

“Hi,” he breathes, combing his fingers through your hair. “Hi.” 

You don’t say anything, arms looping around the narrow of his waist as he throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and walks the two of you towards a quiet area outside of the circle. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, trying to peel you away from where you’ve buried your face in his chest.

You mumble something unintelligible, something that makes his ears prick hard to hear, but your cheeks are hot and you aren’t sure if you can handle seeing his softened eyes as you utter the words. 

“What?” he asks, pulling away enough to see the flush across your face. 

“Said Iloveyou,” you murmur. 

He freezes, like his brain is short circuiting when he pieces the words together. 

“What?” 

You steel your nerves, suck a deep breath into your lungs, and find his sunny eyes.

“I love you, Jake,” you say shakily. “I love you and—”

The laugh that leaves him is giddy and you have half the nerve to melt, but he’s kissing you for the first time since that day in the forest and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Wow,” he whispers when you break away to stand on your tiptoes and wind your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think…”

You’re kissing him again, fervently, like you’re trying to make up for lost time and he can’t help the tickling behind his navel or the heat that starts from his toes and burns all the way up his chest. 

Your skin is plush under the pads of his wandering hands and those three words, spoken into the hum of the surrounding jungle is all the confirmation that he needs that it’s you and him forever. 

“Wait, wait,” he sighs breathlessly. “I have–” 

A hand snakes between your bodies, fingers digging into the pouch strapped across his broad chest.

You watch with viscous eyes as he pulls what looks to be a gilded ring, tiny in circumference. Two pieces of thin vine cord through either side, beaded with pearlescent stones and smooth gems. 

“I…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck as you fall back on the heels of your feet, arms loosening from around his neck to give him the room to hold it up to you. “It’s one of the only things I care about from Earth.” 

Your browbones twitch. 

“The ring’s been in my family for a while,” he says gently. “But it’s probably too small and I know that Na’vi don’t wear things on their fingers and–” 

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you say softly, palm pressing against his chest. 

He grins, sliding the heirloom up your wrist to rest snugly around the flesh of your bicep.

“Perfect,” he murmurs to himself. 

And when your eyes swing from the gift to meet his gaze, you find him already staring down at you tenderly.

“I don’t…” you trail off, suddenly shy under such intensity. “I don’t have anything for you.” 

Jake barks out a laugh, corner of his lips quirking up in a lopsided smile as he cups your face in his hands and brings his forehead to yours. 

“Don’t need to give me anything,” he says quickly, breaths warm and lips a hairsbreadth from your own. “Just tell me you love me again, that’s enough.” 

Your face is indescribably warm under his cool touch. 

“And maybe another kiss,” he adds coyly, then a hand skims over the small of your back, dangerously close to your tail. “Or more…if you want.” 

neng © 2023

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not gonna lie you make me cry n get wet

plot twist i love both xoxo ty for being one of the bests

Thank you so much! I'm sooo happy you're enjoying my stories! :D

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 2 - Memories Glazed in Sunlight

word count: 1906

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding Author's Note: Slightly longer chapter! Posts still not showing up in tags TwT Oh well, I'll still keep posting in the hopes it fixes itself! Just a reminder this is in fact a slow burn, so I would like to do a bit of world building. Help establish your place amongst the family and clan.

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

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

It is when you reach the age of 12 that you decide these dreams are Eywa’s doing. They visit you in an unpredictable frequency. Whether he is a memory of a man long since passed, or a figment of your imagination given life through dreamscape; you are unsure, but don’t think too much of it. After all they are merely dreams, they cannot hurt you, right?

The man doesn’t say much. More often than not you two didn’t interact at all. If he sees you, he simply huffs in annoyance and ignores you. As such you simply observed him from a distance, hidden behind something or rather, as he performed whatever bizarre Human ritual he felt necessary.

Sometimes you go months without seeing him. But it’s happened often enough now you find your mind drifts to him.

You’re at the Tree of Souls with your grandmother, Mo’at, repeating after her as she leads you through a prayer to Eywa, when a thought suddenly hits you; ‘what if he was a human soul, and the Great Mother claimed him as her own?’ You stop in wonder at the thought. Would such a thing even be possible? Even after everything that they’ve done to your clan, would she still find place for them in Her Embrace? Maybe. There were plenty of Sky People who were good. They respected the All-Mother and all her children.

Spider was one of them – the strange boy that he is. You don’t know of any other human children on Pandora, and you think he must be the first to be born here. He’s only 7, the same age as your younger brother Lo’ak and sister Kiri, but by Eywa is he just as rambunctious. You love seeing him play with them and Neteyam too. Tuk is a bit too young, still a baby that one. But you have no doubt in your mind she’ll enjoy his company just as much.

Out of all your siblings though, you’re sure he’s closest to you. As the eldest, you naturally fell into the role of protector. And as far as you’re concerned, he’s just another part of the family, another little brother to watch over and love.

“[Y/N]?”

Your thoughts are interrupted by your grandmother calling your name. You realise you had stopped praying as your mind started to wonder.

“Yes, grandmother?”

“Tell me child, what is on your mind? You are distracted.” She asks you as she brushes some hair from your face. You smile at the gesture.

“Nothing is the matter, sorry grandmother. I was just thinking of my brothers and sisters.” She hums thoughtfully and pulls her hand back.

“You may go to them then. There will be plenty of time to give thanks to the All-Mother. But your brothers and sister won’t always be so young. Go and enjoy them.” You grin at the declaration and hug her quickly before immediately sprinting to find your little band of siblings. She smiles at the sight of you running carefree through the forest.

You have a pretty good idea where you might find them. There are a few rivers nearby that you all love splashing in. Sometimes Father will join, chasing all of you through the shallows and splashing all of you wildly. You love that game.

You make your way to the first river but do not see your siblings. You do find a few adults fishing though. You recognise one of them as Saeyla, a great warrior and friend to both your parents.

“Ah! Young [Y/N]! What brings you here? Here to help us fish, are you?” She beams a wild smile at you. You see a young initiate beside her. She must be showing him the best places to fish, and when to appropriately use a bow or spear.

“Hello Saeyla! No not right now. I’m looking for my brothers and sisters, have you seen them?” She nods and points to her left. You thank her and run off in that direction, bidding goodbye to everyone.

Once you’re out of earshot the young man chuffs to himself and mumbles,

“She still looks like a freak even after all this time.” Saeyla flicks him right in the forehead.

“Watch your tongue! In case you have forgotten, that is Toruk Makto’s daughter. Our Olo'eyktan’s daughter. Show some respect. It is by Eywa’s will that she is here. Or are you going to question the wisdom of our Great Mother?” She fixes him with a stare, challenging him. He stiffens at her look.

“Sorry Saeyla. I—I didn’t mean—” He stumbles to find the right words but she waves him off with a click of her tongue.

“Let us continue and pretend you said nothing.” He nods at her words.

---

Your siblings are exactly where Saeyla said they’d be. All happily splashing in the water; not a care in the world. You smile and sit on a nearby tree root, a bit out of their line of sight. Content to simply watch them. You’re happy to see little Spider here too. You giggle to yourself as you watch him playfully dive atop the pile of Kiri and Lo’ak, Neteyam off to the side pulling on someone’s tail.

As you watch them, you admire the gold of Spider’s locks, not too dissimilar to your own. The play with the threaded gold of your hair idly between fingers, reminiscing on the firs time you had met the boy.

You had begged and pleaded with Father to teach you the language of the Sky People. Reluctant at first, he figured it would probably be in your best interest to learn it in the end, considering there were plenty of Humans and Avatars left behind on Pandora. And to be fair not everyone had learnt the Na’vi language. He figures you being at the young age of 8, it’s probably easier for their language to make a lasting impression than adults learning Na’vi.

He relents and takes you to see Norm, though bi-lingual now himself, he’s not entirely sure how to go about actually teaching you the language. Figured Norm, the science-head that he is, would have an easier time. You like Uncle Norm anyway. He tells you lost of fascinating stories about Sky People and the planet they came from. Especially when Father is reluctant to share. You also find it very funny when he switches to his Sky People body; he’s so short compared to when he’s a Dreamwalker.

So there you are, at Hell’s Gate with your Father. Mother stayed behind in the forest, content to watch over Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri.

Father and Uncle Norm are discussing something, you’re not paying attention to their words. Instead you busy yourself looking at the pretty pictures in a book on a desk nearby. You pay no mind to the idle sounds of the other scientists nearby as the work.

However, your attention is suddenly pulled by the pitter patter sound of hastily running feet and someone yelling “Spider get back here!”

Before you can turn around, something solid collides with your legs, causing you to drop the book as you fall to the floor, the solid thing landing on your legs.

“[Y/N]!” Your father is immediately by your side, gently picking you up as he puts you back on your feet carefully.

“I’m okay Dad,” you assure him. Didn’t even hurt. You look over and find Uncle Norm similarly lifting up someone. The someone that collided with you. It’s a child. A Human child.

“Spider you gotta be careful, you can’t just run into people like that. Now say sorry to [Y/N].” Uncle Norm chastises the child, Spider.

“Sowwy, I ram into yoo.” He says, his pronunciation a little off, but you understood him.

“Oh, I guess this is the first time the two of you have ever seen each other. [Y/N], this is Spider. Spider, this is [Y/N]. She’s my daughter. Say hello, [Y/N].” It is your Father that does the introductions.

“Hello! My name is [Y/N]! It’s nice to meet you Spider!” You beam at him. You didn’t expect him to speak Na’vi. Uncle Norm must be teaching him. You think hard and remember the Sky People greeting Uncle Norm showed you. Ah, right! A handshake! You stick out your hand confidently.

Spider looks at your hand as if unsure what to do. He looks back up to your face with a slight tilt to his head, a questioning look adorns his cute little face.

You giggle at his expression. Instead, you gesture with the traditional Oel ngati kameie hand motion. Spider smiles and copies you, even if the way he swings his arm is a bit off. You admire his hair. It is wild and golden like yours, though yours is a tad lighter.

“I like your hair.”

“Fanks. I like yor eyes. They pretty like strawberries.” You’re not sure what that last thing is. But that sounded like a nice thing so you say thank you.

It is from this tiny interaction that Spider becomes enraptured by you and your family. He’s seen Norm’s avatar, and the ones that walk around Hell’s Gate. But you? You and your father are different. You live in the Forest. And Spider LOVES the forest. He wishes Norm would let him run around outside and explore. “Maybe when you’re older,” he kept telling him.

And so begins months of learning the Sky People language from Uncle Norm and Father, while Spider is taught Na’vi by the two older males in tandem. Every chance you get, the two of you practice with each other. You speak English to him, and he Na’vi to you. It is a fun game.

It’s been about 4 years since then, now you’re both reasonably fluent in either language. Spider though seems much more content to speak Na’vi and that’s fine by you. Your siblings were eventually also taught the Sky People’s language to make communication between Humans, Dreamwalkers and Clan easier.

You continue to quietly watch your siblings play. And yes, you definitely consider Spider a younger brother. You don’t care that he is Human. Why should that matter? After all, your Dad used to be human. And even now, you understand that his body is that of a Dreamwalker.

A gentle breeze carries the laughter of your siblings to you. Their song dances around you, and you close your eyes and smile at the feeling. You could almost feel the Great Mother in the shades of the trees; sheltering you from the harshness of direct sunlight. Though you enjoy the kiss of sunlight as it seeps through the gaps between leaves, leaving warm and soft patterns across your skin.

Deciding you’ve had enough of watching and want to play in the water too, you sit up from your tree spot and make your way over to everyone else.

Spider is the first to notice your approach; thought it surely isn’t hard to miss your alabaster form against the greens of the forest.

“[Y/N]!!!” He yells excitedly and rushes to meet you part way into the water. Everyone else yells your name in greeting and follow him.

“Hello everyone!” You greet back and are soon tackled to the ground by a horde of toddlers. You giggle at their antics. Soon you all resume what ever game it is they were playing, lots of splashes and lots of laughter.

You couldn’t be happier.

---

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Me as I'm writing being like, 'Oh, so that's what we're doing today huh? That's how its gonna be??'

when fanfic authors say that they don’t decide what happens in the story that the characters make the decisions i imagine it like this:

writer: *sitting down* type type type type *squinting at the screen* type type type

writer: *gasp* WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT…… type type type

i was wandering if I could reblog your work?

Of course! I love any sort of engagement I get from fans of my work xoxo