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#thankyouuu all fic writers!
stomach-bugg09 · 1 year
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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
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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.”
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skyland2703 · 1 year
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hihi after many years!! i've got a bunch for you from the fic writers ask list, hope it's not too much!!
10, 12, 13, 23, 33, 45! (feel free to omit some of you want)
Hihihiiii it’s been so long!!! Thankyouuu for the ask!!!
10. How do you decide what to write?
Ummmmm put my favorite playlist on shuffle, see what song comes up, see what vibes it’s giving me, then stare at my drafts till something clicks nicely.
Or just roulette out a pairing and prompt from ask box XD
12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?
…I hate to say this but yeah, childhood best friends drifting apart trope. Used to think it had way too much pining but idk it’s grown so much on me lately~
13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?
The “person A bullies person B because they’ve got a crush on them” trope or in short, the first character is an ass to the second character trope because they can’t deal w their feelings for them— mostly because it’s so horribly executed most of the times. If someone is bullying, the other person should be able to SHOVE it back in their face. Just as horribly. Otherwise where’s the fun. It’s also lessened my taste for banter :(
23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?
COFFEESHOP AU I WANNA WRITE A MEET-CUTE COFFEESHOP AUUUUUUU!!!!!!
33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?
20-25 chapters. More than that, and I lose rhythm. For reading, if it’s being updated in real time, I can read as many as you give. But maximum 15, if all chapters are already posted/fic is complete before I started it~
45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?
Exposition, I think. My old fics, on rereads, felt dry. They lacked a certain… emotion?? They felt more like play writing than narrative/story writing and I think that’s the best improvement ever!
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leerongrong · 4 years
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Hello! 🌼I just wanted to drop by and say your lastest Jaemin timestamp is the cutest flippin thing. I nearly died at how adorable it was. Such fluffy goodness! Thank you 💛✨
OH MY GOD- i literally screamed when i saw this,, i screamed earlier too when i saw you liked my fic.. thank youu so much for the very delightful surprise 😭😭 you've made my day <3
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guksthighs · 6 years
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Heyyyy I feel really dumb rn but could you tell me the difference between imagines, fan fics and drabbles and all? Thankyouuu
oooOOO firsty you’re not dumb because i definitely still get confused but let’s give this a go nonnie !
these are all my own definitions and i know some writers here take different spins on the different styles which is of course always allowed but this is what im thinking if and when i use them !!
imagines - usually shorter than a oneshot. possible sequels (0.5k+ )
oneshots - very similar to imagines but are usually longer. there is only one storyline and one part to the story. ( 1k+ )
fanfics - a fully developed story with multiple parts and a plot arc ( 5k+ )
drabbles - very short fiction ( usually no more than 100 words )
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