What Do I Tell My Friends Family - Masterlist

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

Quaritch’s dramatic portrait

Had to redo his shading twice but absolutely love the result !! He is very pretty ! 💙

Every time I see this it makes me laugh 🤣

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.

[previous chapter] | 5 | [next chapter]

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

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.

----------

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.

---

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

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[previous chapter] | 5 | [next chapter]

Ye pls someone explain this shit 🤣

To Ask So Casually - Miles Quaritch x Female! Reader

word count: 1284

Pairing: Recom! Na'vi Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Recom! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: R18 - minors DNI!, fluff, smut, mutual lewd touching, bonding, pure filth little plot

Author's Notes: Based on the prompt - "how would the recoms react to their fem recom s/o wanting them to ✨️casually✨️ rub their clit that leads to maybe some mutual touching/masturbation 👀"

*by clicking read more you understand the contents herein are for adults only*

“Can you come over here and rub my clit while I read?”

The question comes off so casually, he has to do a double take.

You’re on the bed, dressed only in a singlet and underwear, propped up on the pillows as you continue reading the book in hand, eyes never leaving the pages.

Miles had just emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel around the waist. He had been rummaging through his clothes for a top to wear when you had posed the question so nonchalantly.

“You wanna run that by me again?” He asks with an eyebrow raise and a smirk, arms crossed. His tail flicks up at the prospect of excitement.

“You heard me.” He admires your ability to be so straight faced, but the slight twitch to your mouth does not go unnoticed, nor the flick of your tail too.

“Just wanna make sure I heard ya right is all.”

You lift your eyes up to meet his head on, half lidded and beckoning. You teasingly lick the tip of your finger to turn a page, eye-contact unbreaking.

“Well? I’m waiting…”

His smirk widens as he leisurely makes his way to his side of the bed.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

You feel the dip in the bed as he slots himself into your side, trapping your left arm between you two. He nestles his head into your neck as he looks at the book held in your right hand.

“Whatcha readin’?”

“A romance novel. It’s getting rather steamy.” You turn the book toward him slightly.

“That right? Why don’t you read it out loud for me.”

“Alright…”

Miles places a hand to your chest, resting over a mound. The warmth of his palm seeps through the thinness of your top. You lick your lips.

“His touch burnt her in a way most delicious. Hands dragged along the smoothness of her skin. He pinched and squeezed, pulling moans from her depths…”

Quaritch hums into your ear, his hand gripping your breast as he massages the supple flesh. He drags a finger slowly to trace your areola in a lazy circle. You inhale sharply when he switches to his thumb, slowly rubbing over your nipple till it poked through the fabric.

“H-he held her firmly in each hand, massaging her to attention; deft long fingers pinching, sending flits of fire down her spine…”

Quaritch pulls, stretching the fabric down till it sat snug under your breast, exposing you to the chilled air. Wet warmth envelops your perked bud as he takes you into his mouth. You let out a muffled whine when he gives your nipple a hard suck, tongue lapping at you in-between each slurp.

His hand presses firmly into your flesh as he makes a slow trail down your abdomen toward the apex of your legs.

He pops you out of his mouth, pressing a wet kiss to the side of your exposed bosom.

“Go on sweetheart, I’m aaaaall ears…”

You try hard to concentrate on the words, but his mouth is once again on you, devouring your flesh with practiced ease, feeding the flame burning in your loins. You casually throw one leg over his, the other bent at the knee.

“His-his mouth left burning kisses down the plains of her flesh. Lower did he travel, su-sucking her skin harshly, leaving a trail of p-purple flo-flowers. Till f-finally, he came upon her--!”

His hand cups your sex, fingers pressing firmly to your folds. The suddenness interrupts your dictation, and you let out a content sigh turned moan. Slowly does he glide his fingers over your clothed heat, wetness slowly seeping through the mailable fabric.  

He moves to press his face into your neck, hot breath tickling your skin.

“Don’t get distracted now darlin’, it’s just getting good too.”

He scrapes his fangs along your skin, tracing the path with his tongue.

He slips his hand down the front of your panties, causing you to suck in a sudden breath.

And when his finger finally finds your aching clit, you hum with desire, biting your lip to stifle a moan. He spreads your wettened lips, using his middle finger to rub languid shapes upon your bud.

“F-fuck—Miles—!”

“Ssshhh baby. Continue readin’ for me.” He commands.

But you can’t. When you look upon the words, they seem hieroglyphic, illegible. You’re stuttering worsens as you desperately try to speak.

Your head falls back onto your pillow when you feel one finger press into you. Eyes screwed shut, your mouth falls open in ecstasy, pitch perfect moans spilling from your lips.

He gathers your slick on his finger, spreading it along your folds, it makes it easier to glide his finger over your throbbing clit.

You feel his hot throbbing cock press into your thigh as he starts slowly humping you; his towel having since fallen to the wayside.

“Hmmm—Miles!” You moan his name breathlessly, the heated coil tightening in your loins.

“Aww, you done reading for me?”

“Fuck the damn book.” You toss said book somewhere unseen, focusing attention instead on your burgeoning pleasure.

You feel Quaritch smirk against your skin. He gives you a soft bite, playfully nipping at your neck.

“You always did have such a way with words.”

Fed up with his teasing, you reach for him, grabbing his dick in your left hand. He growls from somewhere deep in the back of this throat. The sound excites you all the more.

You turn your head and catch his lips in a bruising kiss. Teeth and tongue, your kiss is a slobbered mess of unbridled passion.

You grab your queue with your free hand, moving it over your body. You break away from the kiss.

“Miles—”

“I got you.”

You whine when his hand leaves your needy heat, but bite your lip as you quiver with anticipation, watching him grab his own queue. You lick your lips as the purple tendrils entwine. Your pupils dilate as a new found, yet familiar euphoria engulfs you and him.

You return your hand to his cock, squeezing tight as you pump your hand along the length. He starts fucking into your hand, in time with your movements.

Encouraged by the sweet sound passionate mewls of fervour, his fingers quicken in their caressing upon your clit. He inserts two fingers into your pussy; your gummy walls sucking in the digits greedily. His thumb rubs your clit as his fingers massage the spongy flesh of your inner walls. His speed and swiftness, coupled with the delectable filth whispered into your ear pushes you off the proverbial cliff.

Your orgasm sets your body alight after such an appetizing build up. The hand on his cock squeezing that much tighter as you writhe in ecstasy.

“Fffuuuuckk yeeesss!” Quaritch moans as he fucks himself to completion, cumming against your thigh. You give him a few lazy pumps, smiling when you feel his body judder from over stimulation.

Once the pleasure subsides to a dull throb, you turn on your side, throwing an arm around Miles’ mid as you snuggle yourself flush against his front. You throw a leg over him for good measure. His arm goes around you, pulling you even closer, mindful of the bond.

He places a kiss to your temple, eliciting a small giggle from you.

It is then you feel his cock, once again hard and at attention, rubbing against you still sensitive folds.

You head snaps up to look at him, eyes widened.

He looks down at you, a sideways smirk on his lips.

“What, you didn’t think were done, did you?”

You lick your teeth, eyeing him back with heady need.

---

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 @grimistangel @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ducks118 @graysonmalik2550 @p9scal @ohshititsfenharel @ourmurdermessiah @cocoaflare @sarcasticrandy @liyahsocorro @olivia-the-weirdo

What Do I Tell My Friends Family?

Word count: 5086

Pairing: HUMAN Miles Quaritch x Female NA'VI 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, vaginal fucking

Author's Note: This came to me in a day dream. Listening to this song. Set in the same idea I have for Lie of Providence, where you're able to communicate with the spirit of Quaritch in a Dream. Though it's a bit different there. Won't be included in LoP. Have kept reader's appearance vague in some parts so imagine it as you will.

| 1 | <next chapter>

*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*

You shouldn’t want this. You should not be feeling like this. Oh Great Mother, the shame is near unbearable. Yet you are powerless to stop yourself. You want him, this you know. He is a man. Not like the boys of the clan. Immature, stupid boys who know nothing. No, this is a man. You have no doubt he would treat you the way you deserve. Or perhaps, the ways in which you want to be treated.

It started as a childish crush; a flight of fancy. A silly little thing you were, developing feelings for a man you only see in a shared Dream. You enjoyed watching him flex those oh so strong arms, the expanding of that broad chest with each precious breath. Each movement deliberate, no energy wasted in the fluidity of his being. He was taller than you then.

But time passes and it brings with it changes you weren’t entirely expecting. Becoming taller than him at 17 was a given. You’re almost 7’5” now, and will surely keep growing till you’re at least your mother’s height. What you did not expect however, was the swell of your chest. The women of your tribe you notice, do not have such large breasts. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. But here you stand, barely an adult, with tits bigger than your hands. Your hips are noticeably wider too.

As time made you older, so too did it make you bolder. You care not if his gaze meets yours as you shamelessly stare down at him when he trains. You openly watch him do any human ritual, especially when it involves him testing the limits of his physique. And you notice too, how his gaze lingers on you. His eyes travel up and down your form when he thinks you do not notice. You eat up the silent attention. You sure as shit weren’t getting it from the young boys of your tribe.

Sure, mother and father tried their best arranging future mates for you. But every meeting of the family, you seem to be the only one to notice the boys’ upturn sneer. To them, you were always a freak. Proportionally wrong. A half-breed.

Your friends tell you not to worry about it. Boys are stupid anyway and wouldn’t know a good thing even if Eywa herself was prostrated before them. Yet you can’t help the jealously that rips through your very blood when they speak of stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. They do not make tsaheylu, as that is sacred and meant for their future life mate, but that doesn’t stop them exploring their baser desires with equally eager boys. And as the days to weeks to months pass, the frustration of it all builds until you are bursting at the proverbial seams.

And when the dam finally breaks, so too does your rational thinking. You are sick of your feelings being rebuffed by these stupid, immature boys. And you are equally as sick of this bizarre dance you’ve entered with Quaritch. If his soul is going to share Dreams with you, and so blatantly eat you with his gaze, then by Eywa does he owes you some actual attention.

---

And so tonight you are going to put your plan into action. You adorn the least amount of beads and thread you possibly can, barely covering your nipples let alone the rest of your chest. You wear a loincloth with a thinner cut fabric in the back, it easily gets eaten into the swell of your ass. You’re sure Quaritch is going to like that, if his roaming eyes are anything to go by. The final touch are some pretty feathers in your hair which you let hang lose and un-braided. You take your ikran and fly somewhere else into the forest; you do not want to be disturbed this night and Eywa forbid your family asks about what you are wearing (or lack thereof).

You find somewhere suitable to lay your head for the night, the flattened top of a nearby tree. Your ikran makes themself comfortable elsewhere, far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to hear you call should you need them.

You sit on your haunches and take a big calming breath. You look up to clear sky. Eywa has blessed tonight with warm breezes and a dazzling display of stars. The forest is alight with bioluminescence and it brings you a sense of comfort. And with that, you lay yourself down and close your eyes.

---

The Dreamscape too, it would seem, has taken the shape of Night. As you have hoped, you are immediately in a Human settlement. You think it is perhaps Hell’s Gate, but something is different. You cannot tell, but it feels different. No matter. These are irrelevant details. You are here on a mission.

You let pure instinct guide you into and through a building. You are drawn to him and he to you. Finding him is never difficult. As you traverse the halls, you are thankful you do not have to bend as to not hit the ceiling, though were you fully grown it would probably be a problem. You immediately stop in front of a door. He’s in this room. You take a moment to steel your resolve. You do not want to back out now. Not when you’ve already come this far. You take a deep breath, then press button on the side.

---

Quaritch finds it strange. To know oneself is dead. To be a wondering soul, bound to The All Mother. To say he was surprised to learn she was indeed real, would be an unprecedented understatement. Yet she does not speak to him. But he can feel her influence wherever he wonders. Most surprising though, is You.

By Eywa’s grace, the two of you keep sharing Dream spaces. He’s sure you’re not dead though your spirit visits him often. And he’s also sure of one other thing; you must be sweet on him. Never in his waking life, and apparent afterlife, would he have foreseen something like this. A savage girl, the daughter of the traitor Jake Sully, developing a crush on him.

It was cute at first. When you were small. But you’re not a child anymore. And he has, to his disgust and pleasure, taken notice. He thinks of the way you tease him, swaying your hips with purpose when you jog ahead so as to walk in front of him. That damn tail flicking whichever way to draw his attention. When you puff out your chest when you show him how good you’ve become with bow and arrow. Oh yes, he’s sure you’re doing this shit on purpose. And you stare! You openly stare, and when he catches you, you don’t even try to hide it. The audacity of it all.

He’s not even sure if you’re considered an adult by your people’s standards. He never once cared to learn about the filthy natives’ culture. If he remembers correctly, you had mentioned to him last time he saw you that you were 16, coming on 17. You were complaining about some dumb teenage boy in your clan. Something or rather about not finding you attractive. He let you vent your frustrations by manifesting an appropriate sized gun turret in the shared Dreamscape for you.

You mounted the machine without hesitation, and shot at nothing in particular. Your frusted yells drowned out by the loud rhythmic expulsion of bullet rain. And while you had your cute little moment, he watched as your supple body jiggled and bounced oh so wonderfully.

It’s wrong, he knows it. To lust after such a young teenage girl. But you’re not exactly human.  

He rubs the back of his neck frustratedly; doesn’t even notice he’s manifested himself in his old quarters, a place of comfort.

---

He tries to clear his mind. Think of something, anything else. But it all comes back to you. Fuck you’re a God damn tease. A succubus sent by Eywa to torture him. God dangling a piece of Eden in front of him, just out of reach.

What he wouldn’t give to bury himself deep into that pretty little cunt of yours, a hand grabbing fistfuls of your hair as you cry out in pain and pleasure. He wants to leave pretty purple bruises up and down your skin. Mementos he hopes you carry out with you into the waking world. He wants every one of those pathetic teenage boys to know who you really belong to. Show them how a real man lays claim to what’s his. Typical savages having no fucking taste. There’s a tent in his pants now, and he’s about to reach in and relieve himself when the sound of the door sliding open catches his attention.

Speak of the Devil and so shall She appear.

When the door opens you stop yourself in the door way. There he is, standing in the centre of the room. He’s wearing that black singlet you love so much; the entirety of his arms are exposed as well as part of that divine broad chest. The giant window ceiling lets in the natural light of the night awash the room in gentle moonlight.

You’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat spread up from your neck and dust your cheeks. There is a gentle heat forming between your legs as you keep staring.

“Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…” Quaritch is the first to break the silence. His eyes start from your face, and slowly he rakes it down to your loin cloth and back up to face; not before lingering on your chest you notice.

“Now you didn’t have to get all dressed up pretty for lil’ old me—or should I say, dressed down?” You smile shily, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “Come closer darlin’, let me get a good look at’cha.” He’s smirks at you mischievously.

You obey without thinking and step into the room to stand before him, the door shuts behind you instantly with a quiet swoosh.

When you’re this close, the height difference is a bit more apparent. His head height is perfectly situated at your breasts.

He hums approvingly, then gestures behind him for you to take a seat on the bed. When you, he standing in front of you, arms crossed on his chest. You bite your lip noticing the bulge of his biceps, your tail flicks excitedly behind you. He chuckles when he notices.

“Now tell me, [Y/N]—” it takes a great deal of willpower to stop the whine threatening to escape your throat when he says your name in that delicious accent. You audibly inhale. “—what exactly is it, that you think you’re doing Sweetheart?”

You decide you to feign ignorance. It is far too embarrassing to simply come out and say it. You want him to say it; want him to be the one to admit it first. He wants you just as much as you want him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel,” you see the slight tense in his arms when you address him by his title; ‘oh he definitely likes that’. You place your hands in your lap, lightly squeezing your breasts together with your arms. You see his eyes shift down to stare at your cleavage, you can feel your nipples teasing through the bare fabric. He licks his teeth and you inwardly shudder at the action.

“Oh ho, I think you do, you little fucking tease. Now what I’m wondering is, does your Dear ol’ Pa know you’re here? Presenting yourself in front of the enemy like that.” Quaritch bends forward so he’s eye level with you. “I wonder how disappointed he’d be right now. Guess his sweet little [Y/N] ain’t so innocent after all, huh?”

“I do not want to talk about my Father right now Quaritch,” you huff at him frustratedly. You don’t want to think about your family right now, that’d be a sure-fire way to kill the mood before it’s even begun.

“Oh? Then, what is is that you want to do, [Y/N]?”

“You know exactly why I’m here Quaritch…” you avert your eyes, too embarrassed to make extended eye contact. You don’t see him lean closer, moving to the side of your head to whisper directly into your ear.

“Come now you’re a big girl [Y/N]. Why don’t you use your big girl words? Be a good girl, and tell the Colonel what it is that you want?” You audibly whimper. He moves to the front of your face again, grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing your face forward.

“Now I’ll ask again—What is it that you want hm? What is your plan here?”

“Eyes on me baby,” your ears perk forward at the new moniker, eyes immediately fixed on him. Oh Great Mother this man is going to break you.  

“I—I—want…”

“SAY IT.”

“You! My plan! You were my p-plan! It is you that I want! Please Colonel!” You all but yell when he commands you. You squeeze your eyes shut, the shame and embarrassment too much after such a declaration.

You hear Quaritch hum approvingly and can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, aren’t you just sweet?”

His lips crash onto yours suddenly. Both of his hands are on either side of your head, holding you firmly in place. He doesn’t move at first, testing to see your reaction. When he feels you tilt slightly to one side and gently push up into him, he deepens the kiss. You’re a mess of teeth, saliva and tongue. Hot breath mingling in each other’s mouths. By Eywa does he taste divine. Better than anything you could have possibly imagined. Heat pools at the base of your belly. The tiny flicker of a flame come to life. You stupidly wonder if the boys of your clan are even a fraction as skilled as he.

“I can feel ya thinkin’ about something you shouldn’t be, naughty minx.” He says when he breaks away from you. He pushes your collar bone forcefully enough for you to fall back onto the bed with an oof. You lean up on your elbows to look at him at the foot of the bed, your legs planted firmly on the ground.

He uses his legs to kick apart your legs and stands in the space between.

“Let me clear that pretty little head of yours…”

He leans onto the bed, presses his right thigh firmly against your sex, his hands are on your hips holding you in place. A pleasured gasp escapes you, the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure sparks from your core through your entire body.

Satisfied that you won’t move, you can feel him move his hands up the expanse of your body, thumbs pressing into you as he traces the stars painting your skin. Upward he travels till he reaches your chest. Your breasts are exposed to the open are, your meagre coverings having fallen wayside when he pushed you back before.

He delicately traces the glowing pattern of one breast, before he gives you a gentle squeeze.

“Hmmm~” you murmur at the feeling, warmth pooling at the precipice of your legs. He grabs you, one in each hand, and starts kneading you firmly. The rough callouses of his palm causing delicious friction upon your nipples. He feels them peak into his hands and squeezes you tighter.

You can’t help but moan. You’ve never been touched like this at all by anyone else. It feels nothing like when you do it yourself. No, this is so much better.

He swings his left leg over you, resting on your side, his right leg presses harder onto your cunt as he leans forward. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth; immediately seeking you out to fight for dominance. You feel the slick of your cunt coat your loin cloth.

He breaks the kiss to plant kisses on the underside of your jaw. Slowly he starts licking the dots there, tracing down your neck, and he sucks hard on the flesh there, catching the skin between his teeth. At the same time he pinches both your nipples between his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly, the pleasure in your body starting to burn. Each nerve is set alight in pleasured brilliance. You body demands more friction, so you rub your greedy clothed pussy up and down his thick muscular thigh, drenching his pants leg in your juices.

“Aww is that all for me? Well ain’t you just a peach,” Quaritch teases you when he feels the wetness upon his leg. He looks down and inspects the darkening hicky on your neck. Satisfied with his work, and continues to leave more on either side of your neck. Not content yet, he starts leaving them along your collar bone. All the while you grace him with the sing-song of your voice, openingly moaning in pleasured ecstasy at his ministrations.

You feel his hands vacate your chest, his leaves a wet trail as he traces his tongue along one swell. He gives your nipple an experimental lick causing you to make the cutest mewl. And when he takes your whole nipple into his mouth and starts sucking like a starving man, you can’t help the profanity that escapes your lips.

You push harder against his leg, enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against your neglected clit. The pleasure from your cunt and tits pool together in your belly. A gentle coil of a promise starting to form. The build up stops suddenly when Quaritch moves his leg from your sacred conjunction. But before you can even complain, you watch as he moves his entire body lower until his face is between your legs.

Your embarrassment is renewed tenfold. You lay your head back and cover your face with both hands; too bashful to watch what’s about to happen. You aren’t completely ignorant, your friends made sure of that, sparing no detail of their escapades.

You obey his command, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare down at the man poised at your nether region.

Quaritch laughs quietly at your display of embarrassment. He unties your loincloth with ease. When he takes in the sight of you, he cant help but suck in a large breath through clenched teeth. The stars painted on your cunt glow brightly in the moon light, the nectar of your arousal flows freely from your slit. A Waterfall of Eden before him.

“Now that just won’t do Sweetheart. Eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while I eat this pretty pussy.”

He nods approvingly and lowers himself once more, his eyes never break contact with you.

You inhale sharply when you feel him flatten his tongue against your slick, giving your slit one long slow lick up and over your clit.

Louder and louder you moan, there is no need to keep quiet here; there is only the two of you blanketed in soft moonlight.

He presses his hands into the groves of your hips to hold you down as he gets to work eating you out proper. Up and down he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit finally, in between. He cleans you up good, drinking deep of your honeyed nectar you so graciously give him.

He listens to every keen, mewl and moan. When the pleasure becomes too much you’re on the flat of your back once more, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy. Each hard suck on your clit pulls tight the coil in your core, the fire burning brighter with each passing moment.

And just when the tension on your belly threatens to snap in glorious orgasm, suddenly the feeling stops completely. Quaritch having ceased his ministrations.

“Delicious, thank you for the meal.”

You whimper unabashedly, tears threatening your eyes as you look down at him with a confused lidded look.

“So sorry Sweetroll, but the first time your cumming is going to be on my cock; no exceptions.”

You watch with bated breath as he undoes the belt around his waist. Eagerly does he free his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He’s already so fucking hard as he starts slowly pumping himself. He sees you bite your bottom lip as you drink in the sight of him. You lick your lips eagerly.

He feels himself twitch in his hand at the thought of you on your hands and knees as he throat fucks you till your insides are raw. But he’ll save that for another time. Right now the sweet musk of your cunt is beckoning him, and nothing is going to stop him answering the call.

He gathers some of your nectar to spread up and down his member, before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He looks down at you, eyes meeting yours.

“You ready baby? I don’t think I can be gentle,” you nod in response. He rubs his thick tip up and down your slick, gathering more of your nectar. When he finds our entrance, he slowly pushes in just the tip, gauging your reaction. Your eyes close as pleasure assaults every nerve of your body. You feel your cunt immediately drench, excited at the prospect of being utterly fucked full. He can’t help it, seeing your face like that, hearing you sing like that? His resolve all but shatters. In one fell fluid motion he pushes all of himself in up until the hilt, meeting no resistance.

The suddenness of him, feeling his long hard cock stuff the entirety of your pussy, you can’t help the scream that rips itself from your throat. There is a pleasure you didn’t think possible, but also a dull pain from the sudden stretch. You can feel the hairs of his crotch brush against your clit. He isn’t moving though, waiting for you to adjust to this new feeling.

“[Y/N]…Can I?” He’s trying to ask if he can move in between laboured breath. You nod almost immediately. The dull pain nothing you can’t handle.

“P-please move Quaritch,” you beg and he hums in response. You feel him lift both your legs, holding them up at the knees. He pulls out slowly till the tip, then slams back into you.

“Aaah!” You yell in pleasure at the friction gracing your inner walls. Quaritch takes in one deep breath, and he starts pumping into you with all the force he can muster. He is not gentle. He leans over your body, pushing your legs up and apart, granting easier access to your welcoming cunt.

It’s all too much, all too good. The pleasure is insurmountable. Touching yourself will never bring you pleasure like this. Each time he slams back into you, he crashes against your throbbing clit; lightning sparks through your veins, each nerve ending singing a chorus of pleasure, your body is burning in the flames of desire.  

You feel the coil tightening; the build-up of orgasm approaching far quicker than you anticipated.

“Fuck—fuck you feel so good baby,” Quaritch starts praising you. Despite the size disparity, you are tight, perfect, made just for him.

You can’t answer him with words, the only sounds escaping your swollen lips are sing-song moans. It strokes his ego something deep, to see you like this; folded in half, hair framing your face like a [h/c] halo, your face dusted in deep blush. And oh, the faces you make. You can’t be this cute. It should be illegal. If this was Earth, it would be illegal.

But he’s not on Earth. And you’re not Human. Such delicate sensibilities don’t apply out here 4 light years away. Besides. Eywa presented you before him oh so generously, and it would just be impolite to refuse such a gift.

“Q-Quaritch—I’m—” You can’t seem to get the words out, your orgasm approaching without mercy. He knows it though. The squeezes of your drenched cunt warning him. But he’s not ready for you to cum yet. He’s got one more little thing he wants to do.

“Don’t you dare cum [Y/N], you hear me? That’s an order,” he doesn’t relent his pace, the bastard. You close your eyes tight, trying through sheer force of will not to cum.

“Y-yes Sir,” he all but growls the moment you call him that, and you can’t help but smile cheekily. You feel his pace slow to deliberate thrusts. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his hands remove themselves from your legs and hear him fidget with something. You open your eyes in time to see him brandishing his belt in hand.

“Now hold still darling,” he instructs as he, without question, ties the belt around your neck, wrapping the leather around his left hand in tight coils.

“Do you trust me?” he asks as he smirks down at you. Your hand traces the belt around your neck, and your eyes meet his. You stare deep into those blue pools; he is brimming with lust, desire, and something so much deeper. You can’t explain it, but you trust this man with every fibre of your being.

“Yes…I trust you,” You give him the sweetest smile you can muster, and hold your left hand. He threads the fingers of his right hand through yours.

He picks up his pace, returning once again to that brutal pace before. He thrusts and hard as he can, pounding into your cunt with all the strength he has.

“Yesyesyesyes!” You chant eagerly, feeling your orgasm build up for the third time. Without warning, Quaritch pulls on the belt. It tightens around your neck, cutting off your oxygen.

Your eyes widen in sudden panick, reasling you can barely draw in any air. And that feeling, the leather as it bites into the skin of your neck, the tightness in your chest at the lack of air, it is delicious. Your cunt squeezes unabashedly around Quaritch and he huffs with a smirk.

He lets go of your hand then, you bring it up to your throat, grabbing the belt to try and relieve some of the tension.

“No you fucking don’t—!” Quaritch pulls tighter, and with his now free hand, grabs a hold of your tail—and pulls.

Your shut your eyes at the pleasure, tears falling freely down your face. Drool seeps from the corner of your mouth hanging open. No sound escapes your parted lips.

“Such a good girl, you take my cock so well [Y/N]! No one will ever fuck you like I do! Don’t you ever forget that, you God damn hear me?”

You are unable to form any words, the only sound you can muster is a strained moan. Good enough for him.

“That’s it baby—FUCK—Take it all of me like the slut that you are. Throwing yourself at those boys, knowing full well you belong to ME!”

That does it.

The coil in your belly snaps violently, your pussy grabbing his cock in a tight vice as your orgasm wracks your body in glorious ecstasy. You ride the high for all you’re worth. The only sound your able to make is a quiet choke as you struggle to breath, eyes rolling back into your head.

Black spots appear along your vision from the lack of air. But you don’t care, your cunt is still cumming and hard, gushing relentlessly, bathing Quaritch in your heavenly nectar.

You feel his thrusts falter as you continue to squeeze him without mercy. And after a few final pumps, he cums with a load growl. He’s coating your slick walls in his hot seed. He pumps a few more times into you weakly, his hold on the be belt slackens, rewarding you with glorious air once more. You gasp greedily, taking in long slow breathes.

You lay there for a time. Drenched in all manner of bodily fluids. The smell of sex permeates your senses, and you blush, embarrassed suddenly by the activities. You feel Quaritch slowly pull his softened cock from you, the feeling of his cum slowly seeping from your slit giving you a dull pleasure.

Your hole feels utterly abused, but the pain throbs pleasurably, you find you don’t mind the feeling. You feel Quaritch untie and remove the belt from your neck. He hums approvingly at the bruise left in its wake and plants a kiss to your sensitive skin.

He moves up over your jaw to your lips, planting soft kisses along the way.

He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips and it almost reignites the fire within you.

When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he’s staring down at you. There is something unreadable in his expression. He opens his mouth to speak. But when you blink, he’s gone.

The room is gone.

Instead, your eyes are greeted with the blinding light of morning; your senses suddenly assaulted with the burgeoning life of the day.

You sit up and immediately notice your clit is sensitive. You smile to yourself; your body must have cum while you dreamt. You stand and stretch, feeling utterly refreshed. You feel a bit bad leaving so suddenly, but that was out of your control. You’ll be sure to apologise in the next Dream.

You call for your ikran, and make the short journey back home. You are trying very hard to remember to wipe the stupid grin from your face. You make your way back to the family nest in the trees, grabbing the extra garments you hid near where you leave your ikran.

Everyone in your family is awake already. You can hear the sound of idle chatter and the smell of breakfast hits your nose. Good, you are practically starving. You don’t bother trying to be quiet as you make your way up. Just as you pull yourself up and onto the platform, it is your brother Lo’ak who addresses you first.

“Ahhh look who finally decided….to…” his voice trails off when he looks up to you.

“What the—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?!” Kiri yells as she immediately stands up and rushes over to you, cold hands immediately on you, turning you this way and that.

Your neck?

Oh.

OH!

Oh no…

---

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was to your liking! Apologies for any mistakes. It's 1am and I have working in the morning lmao TwT

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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.

<previous chapter> | 2 | <next chapter>

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

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

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

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