Wife Reader - Blog Posts

Revenant - Chapter 1

word count: 4392

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod quietly as he explains further.

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

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

“What would you suggest, James?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t look back.

---

Descension was no less easier.

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

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

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

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

Family above all else.

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you already have a PhD?”

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

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

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

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

You cover your mouth as you giggle at his fumbling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stares at you, brow furrowed with confusion.

Realisation then hits him, eyes widening.

“Noooooo…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tom…?”

“One sec!”

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

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

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

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

“Tom, it’s beautiful.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the dam breaks.

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

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

Tom laughs as he pats your back.

---

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

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

“You owe me for making me cry!”

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

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

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

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

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

“What did you just call me?”

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

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

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

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

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

He gives you a confident smile.

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well then you have my deepest thanks Waitara.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You move to throw yourself onto the bed.

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

---

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

---

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

---

Fic Tag List: @sofiebstar @winxschester @yhern05 @an0th3rsss @gamerxpfighter @to-earth-from-the-sun @exulqnsisxthoughts @sweetirilly @wolfgirl497 @thebeckyjolene @goddesslilithmoriarty @the-anjos @bitchykittenconnoisseur

---

Perma Tag List: [Interactive Post] alternatively reply below if you want to be tagged just for the story

@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

Revenant - Prologue

word count: 940

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

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

[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]

---

Year 2144.

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry James, force of habit, haha…”

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

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

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

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

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

“This is…”

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

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

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

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

James smirks at you with a shake of the head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]

---

Perm Tag List: [Interactive Post] alternatively reply below if you want to be tagged just for the story @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

Revenant - Masterlist

Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Wife! Reader Warnings/Tags: R18 - minors DNI, hurt, comfort, eventual smut, major character death, violence, murder, betrayal, romance, pregnancy, (chapters will have additional warnings) Author's Notes: Something I've been cooking up along side Providence!

Summary: For nearly two decades, you have been a trained assassin, part of a group known as The Order. It wasn't a glamourous work, but it put food on the table, and made you strong enough to protect your younger twin brothers from any and every harm. But an unexpected contract falls into your lap, sending you light years away to an alien world, and an alien body, to kill an alien man.

Chapter Index:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (coming soon)

**more story info below**

Reader Info:

Name: [Y/N] Sully Age: 24 (as of 2144), 30 when she arrives on Pandora DOB: xx / xx / 2120 Bio: Older sister of Jake and Tom Sully, 6 years their senior. At the age of 10, she is conscripted by The Order; an elite group of hitmen/assassins. Her demeanor on the field, and the one she presents in front of others, are almost two separate beings. She is calm, collect, perhaps even cold when on the job. Around others she is bright eyed and friendly; smiles were the only thing she ever wore in front of Jake and Tom. Inspired by the character Yor Forger.

---

Random Story Notes:

Quaritch is born in the year 2103 - making him 17 years your senior.

I will be pulling random science stuff out my ass

I may or may not alter the actual timeline of events - I'm getting my info from the wiki in terms of what year stuff happens.

---

Perm Tag List: @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

Red Rivers Run Deep

word count: 1787

Pairing: Human! Colonel Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader Tags/Warning: hurt, comfort, established relationship, slight angst, crying, period cramps Summary: Period pains aren't the only pain you're dealing with right now. You're grateful that your husband is there to comfort you.

Author's Note: So I wrote this, then didn't like what I wrote so I rewrote it TwT For the request from @idrinktheadarling Hope it's to your liking! Apologies as always for any grammatical mistakes.

You didn’t think something so insignificant could affect you to such a degree.

But it wasn’t insignificant, now was it?

The seemingly inoffensive pink line stares back at you.

Singular.

Negative.

You throw the pregnancy test in the trash, washing your hands with gusto as if to wash away the pain.

And it was not just the physical pain of your impending period that assaults you. Your heart is aching something fierce. You feel guilty. It was as if, what right did you have, to dream of such things? What deeds have you done, to earn such happiness?

If Eywa was real, then she did not bless you this day. If God was real, then you feel as though you are far beyond his reach.

You had been so sure, yet cautiously hoping. Your period was late, as was indicated on the app you used to track it. The pains you got were always severe, sometimes taking you out of commission completely.

You remember that you need to tell Grace you won’t be available for any field work for a few days, perhaps even a whole week. You call her through the commlink. True to her name, she was gracious in understanding of your situation. She can tell something is off; there is a troubled cadence to your voice underneath your hisses of pain. She doesn’t press you for answers. You ask her to send your husband your way should she see him.

Once you’re done with your call, you meander to the bed, carefully laying yourself on Miles’ side. His pillow smells so faintly of his cologne. And even though you clearly have matching bedding, his pillow somehow felt just that much softer.

Another slice of pain cuts through you, and you clench your teeth to bear through it. Fucking hell, you wish you could be in your Avatar right now. Never have you felt so envious of, what was essentially just another you; the Na’vi didn’t have periods like humans did.

You smile at the memory of when Grace had regaled you with the tale of mortified looks from the older Omatikayan children’s faces when she had explained the concept to them all years ago. You had laughed until your stomach ached when she tried imitating them.

“‘Sa’nok! Are you bleeding now?? Are you okay, does it hurt???’ Oh, poor Tsu’tey was beside himself!” Grace laughs with a hand to her heart. She’s still giggling when she tries making a disgruntled face, pretending to swat someone behind the head.

“‘Tsk! Skxáwng! It’s probably impolite to ask such things! Sorry Sa’nok, please pay him no mind.’ Sylwanin gave him an earful for that one. She was always so bright that one, wise beyond her years…” Her voice trails off then. You see the shift in her gaze, the sadness behind her faltering smile. Even years later, the pain of what those soldiers did still lingers...

Another stab of pain interrupts your trip down memory lane. You curse out loud, clutching your abdomen. You don’t feel like stumbling through the base to medical for some pain killers.

You close your eyes, trying your best to will yourself to sleep. If Eywa could not bless you with a child, then maybe she would at least let slumber take you.

---

When next you open your eyes, you look out the window to see night has already fallen. The pain has subsided to a dull ache. You notice then, that a hot water bottle has been nestled against you, with your hands carefully maneuvered to hold it in place.

What? Who? When?

The answer is immediately obvious. The sounds from the bathroom catch your ears; the shower is running, and you can hear the faint yet distinct sound of familiar humming. Miles must have come in some time whilst you slept on, placing the warm bottle where it now lay.

You let out a deep content sigh, readjusting yourself and the bottle to be more comfortable on your side, facing away from the bathroom door. You eye then catches the items placed on the bedside table. There is a thermos, and when you reach out to touch it, the bottle still feels hot. Beside it sits some pain killers in a small plastic cup.

You sit up, propping yourself against the pillows. And as you do, you see the bag sitting at your bedside. It’s filled with little boxes and packets of your favourite snacks; at least the ones available here on Pandora.

You lip quivers, and you feel as though you could cry. You love the small gestures just as much as the grand. You clear your throat, vigorously rubbing your cheeks to stop yourself from crying. You grab the thermos. You unscrew the lid and sniff the hot contents. The smell is delectable and enticing. Your pour yourself some in the lid and drink it down greedily.

You sit there, drinking from the thermos in quiet contemplation.

The dull ache in your lower abdomen pulls your mind back to that accursed test in bin. You wonder if Miles saw it, what would say? Would he share in your sadness? Would he be relieved? Would he berate you for wanting to even start a family?

But what was really waiting for you there? A dying world? Was there even anything worth going back for? You had no immediate family. The only family you truly had now, was here, on this planet light years away. And who knew how long you’d even be stationed here anyway; this was for all intents and purposes your new home. And despite its rough edges, you loved this place to bits.

Did you even want to start a family on Pandora? You know all too well the hostility of this place. It was probably a stupid idea, wanting to have kids here. It would be a far better idea to wait until you’re both shipped back home.

And you love your husband dearly. And you are certain, without a shadow of a doubt, he loves you back just as much. You feel apprehensive though; the two of you had spoken of kids before, but it was always around ‘when we get back home’. Pandora never did feel like home for him; probably never would.

Your lips press into a thin line as your mind spirals lower. Why this time, out of all the other times…Why was it this particular time, that you’re so disappointed?

You don’t even realize the noise from the bathroom has stopped. Nor do you even register when Miles emerges from the bathroom dressed for bed.

---

Miles stops himself in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the door frame. He takes the time to stare at you, study you. You’re sitting up in bed, drinking from the thermos he brought. Your eyes are unfocused, staring blanking ahead. He wonders what’s on your mind, but he has a pretty good idea of what it could be. He had seen the test in the bin. Luckily, he didn’t need to pick it up; it had been facing upward, the pink line in plain sight.

He watches the micro expressions that dance across your face as your mind wonders. There is a tightness in his chest, and he quietly grimaces. He knows he needs to talk to you; you are clearly upset and the air needs to be cleared. When he sees the threat of tears in your eyes, the quiver of your lip, he swiftly pushes himself off the wall.

---

The sound of his approach has you snap your head up to him. It takes you a moment to register, but you offer him a gentle smile. It does not reach your eyes.

“Hi honey,” you greet him, holding up the thermos. “Thanks for this, I really need it. All of it, actually…” You return the thermos to the bedside.

“It’s no trouble sweetheart, anything for my best girl.” He lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms does. You nestle yourself into his side, head resting on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest, the hot water bottle sandwiched between you two.

“[Y/N]…Are you okay?”

It’s such a simple question. Requires a simple answer.

Instead you cry. He turns himself to face you, arms wrapping around you. He pulls you to him, your hands fist into his shirt tightly.

His hand leaves warm patterns in your back, his mouth whispers comforts into the softness of your hair.

When you manage to calm yourself, reduced to only sniffing, you finally speak.

“I’m…sorry…” you manage to choke out. He tuts you, and you feel him shake his head.

“You don’t ever have to apologise darling; least of all to me. You wanna cry, you go ahead and cry.” He wipes your face with tissues you didn’t even see him grab.

You open your mouth to speak, but instead you groan in pain as you’re hit with another wave of pain.

“Did you take the painkillers?”

“No…forgot…”

Miles reaches behind you, grabbing the little cup. He hands it to you, and you wordlessly take it. You wash down the pills with a swig from the thermos.

Miles instructs you to lie on your back. He moves his hand under the pillow, laying on his side, pressed into you. He moves the water bottle away, replacing it with his hand instead.

Slowly he rubs your lower abdomen in gentle circles. The light pressure almost feels like a massage. You let out a content sigh as the pain subsides back into the dull ache. You feel his breath tickle the hair on your head.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks vaguely.

“Not…right now. Maybe tomorrow? When I’m not in so much pain please…” You answer, and he’s not entirely convinced you’re only talking about cramps.

“Of course sweetheart,” he plants a kiss to your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too, thank you…” You close your eyes, leaning your head into him.

“If it means anything…I just want you to know, I think you’d be a great mom…And I’d love nothing more to start a family with you…Even if it has to be on Pandora.”

You turn your head to look at him then. His gaze speaks a thousand words. All of them feel like declarations of love. You lean up and he instinctively leans down to meet you half way.

Your lips press upon one another in a soft languid kiss; soft and tender with metered passion.

And just as his hand lessens the pain in your lower abdomen, so too do his words lessen the pain in your heart.

You feel assured, that everything will be okay.