Yes Yes Ik!!! Didnt Mean That In A Pushy Way, More Of A I Love Your Character Way Of Course. Take Your

yes yes ik!!! didn’t mean that in a pushy way, more of a i love your character way of course. take your time ml 🤍

no ofc!!

i was just replying in a teasing way. i srsly appreciate ur love and support. and i do love writing!! i just can't seem to summon any inspo on behalf of avatar as of now.

would anyone at all be interested in a switcharoo of some fandoms?? i'm worried they won't gain as much traction but i suppose that's not necessarily what i should be concerned about LMAO

i miss my blue boy fali

and i miss when i still had motivation to write 😭😭

but i hear u... it's just tough when it isn't fun to write anymore, yk??

summary: [y/n] has always been an angry girl. why wouldn't she be ready to fight any avatar that puts their hands in her siblings?

sully family x sully!reader

a/n: i just did this one for fun because i wanted one where she's an absolute boss and a half. love her !! remember , reqs are open and waiting. i probably won't write anymore fali x [y/n] stuff unless i get specific reqs because they're really difficult to write without direct inspo and ideas. once again , motivation is really important to keep me writing , so please comment feedback + reblog !! i would seriously appreciate it. ( also , for some odd reason my two most recent works have barely gotten any interaction -- idk if that's just bc tumblr is being a problem , or if it's because fali has lost his magic touch ( which if so , i completely get it ) , but if you guys could help me out to try and figure out what's going on ?? )

warnings: violence, guns, fighting, weapons, death, killing

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen @missroro @sweetheart-bo

angry spirit

nobody quite understood the rage that naturally flowed through the veins of the women in the sully family. nobody quite understood the urge to protect that seemed to be carried between each and every one of the children that jake and neytiri shared and adored together. nobody quite understood… not until they experienced it themselves.

and trust me, plenty of people have experienced it, humans and na’vi alike. even from a young age, there were times where one of the kids were ( one-hundred and ten percent ) willing to fight another kid if it meant they would stop picking on their siblings.

luckily — of perhaps unluckily, depending on the perspective — that shared agreement only seemed to get stronger with age. as the relationships between each kid developed, as more seemed to join the family in general, there was a camaraderie between the five sully kids. even tuk, just a tiny thing herself, was well aware of her willingness to risk her own life if it meant she could save her sisters and brothers.

that being said, there was absolutely no way any of her older siblings would ever let that slide, but it was a sweet sentiment on its own.

even though this habitual response seemed to run through every sully’s blood, it was strongest in the eldest girl.

being neteyam’s twin — younger by just a few minutes — allowed for [y/n] to balance him out. while he had the expectations of future olo’eyktan on his shoulders from the moment he graced pandora with his birth, [y/n] was a freer spirit.

she was also a much more angry spirit.

not that she held fury against every person she interacted with, but [y/n] wasn’t scared of disliking anyone. she also wasn’t scared of letting them know that she didn’t like them; a blessing and a curse, the sully family often called it.

but it stemmed further than that. it ran stronger than that.

from a young age, jake taught his oldest daughter how to channel her anger much healthier. what did jake sully consider a healthy outlet? well, fighting, of course.

so, the sully child that’d been this close to fighting another kid in lo’ak’s honor? yeah, that was [y/n].

not to mention her iknimaya — the rite of passage that quite possibly boosted this girl’s ego far too high. she deserved it, though. not many young na’vis could complete the event in such little time, especially against the pain that her ikran was.

he was a bitter fellow, similar to his spirit sister. angry at the world for every little thing and always ready for a fight. they truly were connected in every possible way.

but, her iknimaya was physical evidence that fighting fire with fire never worked. the truth was that one flame had to overcome the other — one flame had to envelop the other. it was just a matter of which flame was stronger.

[y/n] knew from the moment she locked eyes and that joyful, adrenaline-filled grin blessed her face that she would win.

thank eywa she believed in herself, because neytiri and jake nearly lost all of their faith at the sight of the monster that towered over the young girl.

another notable moment — or perhaps a series of moments — of her oh-so optimistic and joyful personality was prompted by her very own father. if there was one thing that the oldest daughter was confident in, it was her father’s love. she knew that he loved her — loved all of them — and that made it extremely easy for her to argue with him on any topic she disagreed with.

as annoying as it happened to be to jake, neytiri loved that she was raising a strong woman. it often reminded her of herself at a young age.

but, every single one of those stories were child’s play compared to the raw anger that surged through her body when her and her siblings’ lives were held under knife and gunpoint.

[y/n], the original rebel and inspiration for lo’ak’s ‘admirable’ choices, was happy to join the crew on their adventure through the jungle. with lo’ak grounded from flying due to his choices just the other night, he’d practically begged his older sister to join them.

they were partners in crime, afterall.

once neteyam decided to become all responsible and stuff ( not that [y/n] blamed him… but it was disappointing ), [y/n] and lo’ak seemed to have magnetized toward each other, although that might be a sign to turn the other way and run as fast and as far as you can.

either way, [y/n] found herself exploring the similar jungle scene alongside all of her siblings minus neteyam and with the additional presence of spider.

as soon as the familiar scene turned not-so familiar, it seemed that [y/n] had a feeling. a feeling that something was wrong, that something else was creeping. she should have listened to her gut.

and that same thought resurfaced as soon as the stomach-dropping view of the avatars overcame her view from the bushes.

it was only once said avatars put their hands on her baby siblings that the familiar settled, bubbling beneath her thick layers of skin. it was only when [y/n] fell into an eerie silence and state of pure calm that every other sully sibling felt their own fear.

even as tuk squirmed and cried against the bruising grip of the avatar’s, even as kiri cried out at the sharp knife edge against her throat, even as spider fought his restraints, even as lo’ak stared into the terrifying eyes of the same man that had nearly killed his father…

[y/n] stayed perfectly compliant. stuck on her knees, queue throbbing at the feeling of her opponent tugging it, [y/n] merely stared straight at quaritch. silently, her urge to fight was building, and everybody that knew her was perfectly aware. and ready.

she ran her tongue smoothly against her fangs, eyes narrowed straight at the man that threatened the lives of her siblings.

a solid thirty minutes had already passed, eclipse coming quicker than [y/n] would’ve preferred. she just had to hope that, without being used to their forest and bodies, the avatar’s didn’t have the same keen night vision as she did.

“you okay there, kid?” the avatar teased, attempting to startle her with his threatening voice. he tugged her braid, nearly drawing a hiss from deep within her rib cage, but she held it back. he seemed to be bothered with the fact that her eyes hadn’t once left the body of their colonel.

but, for once, she drifted her gaze to meet her perpetrator and summoned english for his benefit. “ask again in a few minutes.”

and, almost as if [y/n] could feel the presence of her parents, a familiar bird call echoed through the nighttime breeze. her ears pressed back against her head in shock before she quickly recovered and flashed an innocent smile to the avatar.

he merely grunted, pulling her braid one last time for good measure, and looked back up at quaritch.

now, she just had to be patient. she could do that. well, as long as she got what she wanted in the end, and that was a good fight. she deserved it after letting the chains rub back and forth against her wrists, eating at her skin through the friction.

that being said, as soon as her mother’s signal became clear, she straightened up and locked eyes with lo’ak. a discreet nod was enough between them. grab tuk and go. she knew kiri and spider would handle themselves.

plus, the extra connection between spider and quaritch was just another layer of protection for her baby sister. perhaps it was a terrible way of thinking, but [y/n] wouldn’t dwindle too much on it. the urge to survive had its faults, afterall.

and finally, once neytiri’s arrow soared through the air, it was go time.

while lo’ak and tuk bit the arms of their restraining avatars, lo’ak also doubling duty and releasing whatever gas canisters had been accessible on the guy’s belt, kiri and spider were lucky enough to be given a chance to run as soon as the avatars lifted their guns.

[y/n] liked to do it the hard way, though.

she swung her legs in a swift motion, wrapping them around the avatar’s. she weighed his bottom half, keeping him from being able to move far, and in a split second, neytiri’s arrow was embedded in his chest.

[y/n] let go, scrambling to her feet and up the nearest tree, finding a moment of solace nested in the upper branches. she could see everything, and they couldn’t see her — she was a master of disguise and hiding, if anything.

and then, it seemed the world went a few clicks quieter, gunfire calming down just a tad. one scan of the scene, and [y/n] knew it was because they’d lost sight of her siblings.

“the kids are gone.” a voice crackled through the walkie strapped to a dead avatar’s chest at the base of the tree, the small noise quiet against the chaotic scene. [y/n] was merely lucky she was in little enough of a proximity to even catch the words.

“what do you mean gone?” quaritch. she could tell from his stingy accent and infuriating pronunciation of vowels.

a beat of quiet against more raining gunfire. “the boy and youngest girl ran off. tarzan and the other girl split to the opposite direction.”

“which other girl?” [y/n] felt a familiar smile on her face.

“what do you mean —”

quaritch was angry, and [y/n] couldn’t help but find pure enjoyment from the scene. little did he know that the young na’vi girl could now see him from her spot in the tree, eyes narrowed on the colonel hunched behind a fallen log.

“there are two girls. one of ‘em quiet and useless, the other looks like her devil of a mother.” the same mother that managed to kill him the first time.

[y/n]’s eyes focused on the demon in na’vi skin, watching his face contort at the familiar arrow pierced in the wood beside him. it was almost as if he’d conjured her very own “devil of a mother” into existence. “seems that very mother might be in attendance this fine evening.”

[y/n] scrunched her nose in disgust, her skin crawling at his words. she really could not stand him. but, her attention was quickly pulled back to reality when he dropped the walkie and called into the open air, all while reloading his gun, “that you, mrs. sully? i recognize your calling card.”

instantly, [y/n]’s head whipped around, locating the exact tree in which her mother hid behind. unfortunately, [y/n] was a few feet away and at the worst possible angle to help.

“why don’t you come on out, mrs. sully?” quaritch continued, and [y/n]’s eyes followed a different avatar that began to creep past the colonel. “you’n i, we got some… unfinished business.”

“demon!” neytiri’s voice caused panic to spike in the young na’vi’s heart, blood pumping with adrenaline. “i will kill you as many times as i have to.”

it was only when [y/n] looked back at quaritch that she noticed the other avatar was missing. a million different curse words rattled deep within her brain, eyes widening in fear.

meanwhile, quaritch would not be distracted from his tangent. “i guess you an’ the corporal have been pretty… busy, haven’t ya? got yourself a whole litter of… half-breeds.”

what could she do?

as quickly and as silently as she could, [y/n] scrambled through the wet tree branches, cursing herself every time her feet lost grip. nerves added up with rain never helped.

at the very last second, [y/n] reached a spot in which she could just barely see her mom. well, her mom, and the avatar that had a gun aimed right at her. just as [y/n] opened her mouth and prepared to scream a distraction, an arrow flew right through the avatar’s body.

gunfire followed almost immediately after, and her dangerous balance finally lost way, causing the girl to topple from her position and into the muddy ground below.

[y/n] was quick to stand up — she had to be — but the scene was not a pretty sight to behold.

she was surrounded. surrounded by three different avatars, each with their own weapon that could quite easily hurt her, if not kill her on the spot. she just prayed that, if they did manage to get to her, she could make them scream first.

[y/n] knew she would. it was always just a matter of mentality, right?

and so, as if the clock slowed down just for her, [y/n]’s eyes flashed around her and gauged every detail possible. the machine gun, loaded and prepared ( although she had noticed that it was already halfway empty ), in the hands of the avatar to her right, the two knives ready in the hands of the avatar to her left, and the last avatar just in front of her. nothing but his fists.

a smile surfaced.

she could deal with that.

and then, before the rest of her body returned to the consciousness of time, her feet began to move. [y/n] lifted her arms so she could see her wrists — still wrapped in chains — and she leapt upwards.

her long legs gave her a higher jump, bringing her and her hands to the perfect height to wrap her chains around the weaponless avatar’s neck. she swung herself around, legs hooking his torso as she tugged with every bit of strength she could muster.

at the chaotic sounds around her, [y/n] knew that bullets were being fired now. lucky for her, she had her very own personal shield, but that meant the tree she was choking was about to go timber.

once she felt the warm splatters of his blood against her stomach, she knew she only had a matter of time before getting squished under a dead man’s weight. [y/n] shifted her weight, unhooking her legs and placing her feet on his hips very carefully.

[y/n] kept her ears aware at all times as she leapt up and off of the now dead avatar, pushing him onto the ground with her jump. her ears moved vigilantly, picking up the sounds of the bullets just before they were shot so she could move just in time to avoid any casualties.

and then her favorite sound rang through the air. an empty cartridge.

at that, her infamous smirk surfaced as she locked eyes with the now useless avatar.

now, behind her, the third avatar with the knives thought she was being slick, creeping behind her with both weapons raised to stab her in the back.

luckily, [y/n] was far too aware and far too pissed to miss such an important detail.

just as the third avatar broke through stabbing distance, [y/n] whirled around and disarmed her in a quick movement. both knives flew into the air, and she swiftly grabbed each of them.

each blade found their own homes embedded in the chests of her enemies

and then, just like that, she’d won.

[y/n] huffed for air, three dead avatars laying around her feet. blood pooled, swirling in an overwhelming pool of maroon. and none of it was hers.

i love the way you brought a character to life without anyone previously knowing anything about him like so many people love the writing that you make. people sit there and read the words that you wrote from your mind and get joy from it, likeee it’s so cliche so sorry if this sounds super dumb or wtv but it’s so cute i love your writing so much and fali obvs coz he’s my fav alien ✌🏼❤️

this is the sweetest thing ever omg -- thank you so much, it rlly means a lot and it honestly is totally insane that ppl just... read my stuff and it actually evokes real life emotion?? that's so wild

hiii,i saw that requests ante open and was wondering if we can get a fali fic? 🫢 I don’t really mind/have a preference for what it’s about but maybe angst with some fluff at the end??? idek you’re the writer so you can choose, that’s basically it, and btw your fics are lush!! i love themm

thankyouuu <3

a/n: okay, hey !! took me a lil bit to ponder this idea and what would be the best approach , but i think this suits it with a lil bit of angst and then some comforting fluff. thanks so much for the kind words !! please, please, please comment feedback + reblog ( everything's easier when you have the motivation of your readers )

summary: fali is recovering from the bullet he took to save neteyam, but he's never been very patient.

tags: @rafeslovergirl @wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @theycallmesia @grierpilots @23victoria @nyotamalfoy @gcldtom

healing is hard

after eighteen years of existing, fali was never once considered patient. even when young, his mother could recall the numerous times where she scolded the poor na’vi for not waiting for her or his father before he dove right into the reef. she could also recall the way her heartbeat would flare when he let out a mischievous feat of laughter followed by a loud splash.

she had to say, though, that she would much prefer those small spikes of fear over the moment in which she witnessed tsireya speeding back atop her ilu, a limp body draped in front of her. 

vi’ieo and fpai had just been discussing the whereabouts of their son in concerned, hushed tones when they heard the olo’eyktan’s daughter yell, “help! it is fali!”

nothing could prepare either parent for the rush of nausea and dread that flooded their bodies at those four words; if they weren’t thankful for ronal beforehand, they owed their lives to her. no mother wants to experience the unforgiving event that it the loss of a child.

not again, at least. not after they lost what was supposed to be their first baby girl just before she was born. 

but now… now fali was okay. or, getting to it, at least. he was alive, and he was healed, but he still hurt. every movement he made, everytime he attempted to go through with tasks that he used to consider as easy if not daily.

he couldn’t even walk to the edge of the shore and back without help from someone else.

after being raised the only child of his parents and the supposed older brother to tsireya and ao’nung ( and then eventually rotxo ), fali picked up so many subconscious habits. he was reliable, he was independent, he was strong. now he was reliant, dependent, weak. he didn’t feel like fali te auahi fpai’itan.

everybody around the healing na’vi felt his frustration. they felt this sadness, his mourning of who he used to be. they felt the anger that surged through his body at the limited movement his left arm and leg now possessed after the bullet just barely impacted his spine enough to cause mobility issues.

it hurt. it hurt him, it hurt them, it hurt everyone.

and fpai and vi’ieo also missed the child he used to be. the child he was before he grew up, the child he was before he became the warrior, the child he was before they let war touch him. before they let war hurt him. but, they would forever be grateful for his mere survival above all else.

while fali saw their perspective, while he recognized the blessing that was his life, he was so sick of it. he was so sick of being thankful, of being gracious for eywa. he wanted his life back! he wanted his arm and leg back! for all he knew, fali would never even see battle again — he would never see the thing that he spent his entire childhood training for.

an impressive warrior whose skills were wasted on an avatar’s stupid bullet.

while everyone else tried to push a positive perspective onto the angry and healing na’vi, [y/n] knew better. she knew that wasn’t an option — not based on his personality, at least.

was she happy he was still alive? well, of course! in fact, she often jumped awake in the middle of the night and pressed a hand to his chest from where she slept right next to him, checking that he was still breathing. checking that he was still there.

but, [y/n] could never expect him to share the same exact outlook that she did, and she could never pretend to understand what he was struggling with. that would just be a lie, and she could never lie to him. not to her love.

so, instead of trying to get him to rest every time he stood up, instead of stopping him before he limped out of the marui, she gave him a soft smile and a nod. and then, of course, a wink followed by words meant only to push buttons ( which would hopefully only motivate him to success ), “scream if you need anything.”

he would roll his eyes, waddle out, and after about five minutes, [y/n] would be outside the marui. her eyes would be caught on his figure in the distance, oftentimes leaned up against a tree or paused while trying to catch his breath.

sometimes, although her heart shattered the most during these moments, he would be paused with his makeshift cane in hand, back hunched as sobs echoed through the breeze.

but [y/n] knew better than to barge in. she knew that, as much as every part of her body and soul itched to go and help him — to insist that it would be okay — it was only up to fali to decide whether or not that would be true.

it was only once, though, that [y/n] came running to him.

he’d been walking, small grunts of frustration heard all the way from where [y/n] stood. her gaze was soft against his back full of tattoos, scars, and muscles that she knew all too well.

and then, in a split second, everything broke.

the na’vi before her let out a yell of fury before throwing his cane into the sand, knees shaking as he fell onto them. the soft, wet sand was imprinted with his weight, allowing him to dip an inch shorter. 

[y/n] feet started moving before her mind did, practically running down the wooden docks and through the sand. the squishy substance tickled between her toes at each new step, until eventually she strut right past the tearful na’vi and grabbed his cane.

she spun around on her heel, looking him right in the eye, and she extended her arm towards him. the long piece of drift wood he’d adapted to be his mobile assistant faced him in an offering.

but, just as fali reached up and attempted to take it from [y/n]’s hand, she pulled it away and threw it about ten feet to her right.

stunned, fali blinked at her. “[y/n],” he gasped, shocked. “what are you —”

“get up.”

[y/n] voice was solid, firm. authoritative. all of sudden, fali couldn’t take his glassy eyes away from her, jaw dropped in complete shock due to her attitude. what was she up to? “[y/n],” he tried again, voice soft and shallow due to the sobs that sat at the base of his throat.

she merely shook her head at her healing lover. “no,” she refused. “no, you’re going to get up.”

“i —” he paused, checking his words carefully. “[y/n], what are you doing?”

[y/n] locked his eyes, not once making an effort to assist him in any form. “i’m telling you to get up. get on your feet and walk.”

once more, fali opened his mouth, but this time… this time it shut in a pregnant bubble of silence. instead of arguing any more than he already had, he placed two hands on the ground and attempted to push upwards.

and then, just like that, fali was back in his own head. not once did he realize, as he pushed himself over the edge, that he wasn’t alone, and yet… for the first time ever since he started leaving every afternoon to try and make progress… he was finally able to do it.

by himself.

but he wasn’t by himself. [y/n] was there right next to him, words of encouragement flooding from her lips with every noise of desperation or anguish. everytime he even made a signal of falling back down, more words spilling right into his ears.

and soon, before he even knew it, he was standing. by himself.

and his arms were wrapped around the familiar body of [y/n]. the same warmth he adored every night. the same build that made him feel safe. the same na’vi that made him rethink every part of his life.

he could have never made it without her. anywhere. not just to a new point in his recovery, but he couldn’t have made it to the person he considered himself to be then.

fali without [y/n] would be the same arrogant na’vi that pushed ao’nung’s buttons. the same na’vi that made dumb decisions. the same na’vi who prided himself only on his abilities on the battlefield.

with [y/n], he finally realized there was so much more to himself than he ever knew or knew to recognize.

he pressed his face into [y/n]’s hair, the soft strands soaking up his salty tears of joy. his shoulder shook every so slightly, and fali could feel [y/n]’s own trembling body.

it’d been so difficult.

“i’ve been wanting to help, you know,” [y/n] sniffed into his chest. “i just knew it wouldn’t have helped. the last thing i wanted to do was make things more difficult.”

fali swallowed. “i know, yawne, i know.” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. he couldn’t manage to summon anything louder, for he was world this beauty of a reality would disintegrate into a dream.

“but,” she continued softly. “i also knew you needed to be open to help. help from me, help from your parents, help from everyone. you can’t do everything alone.”

fali paused, silence overcoming them as he thought. she was right, of course, but he hated that idea. he was already vulnerable with his injuries. the last thing he wanted was pity from anyone else.

“i just…” he trailed. “i’m scared.”

[y/n]’s heart broke, her breath hitching in her throat at the big confession. “that’s okay.” she looked upwards, eyes locking between the two. “it’s okay to be scared.”

“what if i don’t get better?” he admitted, tears creating shiny streaks against his blue cheeks. “what if this is it? what if i can’t fight anymore?”

and then, as shocking as  it was to fali, a laugh bubbled from [y/n]’s throat. he gave her a quizzical look and asked, “what’s funny?”

“well, it’d be fine by me, is all,” she admitted, a smile resting on her lips. “i like it better when i know you're safe and not at war.”

he couldn’t help but feel a smile rise to his own mouth as well. “well, you’d still be fighting.”

she gave him a look that read duh before continuing. “plus, if you do learn to lead the village from the interior… you could be at home.” she paused, shrugging. “if we ever wanted a family and all.”

fali paused, looking into her eyes deeply. suddenly, all he could feel was his stupid grin. “and you couldn’t stay home and care for the kids?” “we’d get a babysitter.”

fali let out a loud laugh, leaning his head down and kissing her square on the lips. “maybe eywa made a good decision.”

hiiii so basically

i was thinking about fali

and then thinking about how you said your struggling with motivation

but if there’s any way i can help with motivation lmk!! ill try my best 🤷‍♀️

anyways love u pooks!! (and fali ofc) 🫶

-🌺

hiii!! i have no idea how long ago this was sent in bc my life has been hella busy so i haven't really checked up, but..

it's not necessarily motivation to write rather than motivation to write for avatar. i haven't watched the movie in a hot minute, and i move on pretty quickly from my phases of obsession...

i'll keep trying to cultivate ideas for you, but i'm more scared that if i do manage to create something, it's gonna be disappointing compared to my writing from way back