#te series

[trans-androgyne]

TERFs feel ownership over transmasc bodies. We already know they think we don’t deserve to make our own decisions about what to do with them, that we’re mentally ill or delusional or autistic or just trying to escape misogyny. But I also think they look at us and see nothing but themselves. They see their pain, their trauma, what they could have become if only things were different. And they conclude that, therefore, they know better than us. They know what we really need: to be converted to TERFism and detransitioned. After all, we’re ruining our poor, beautiful, fertile “female” bodies that they so covet.

This happens a hundredfold when the transmasc in question is their own kid. My transphobic mother would tell me my body is hers and therefore she could do whatever she wanted with it. She was joking until she wasn’t. TERF moms act as though it’s their own breasts being “cut off,” testosterone being put in their own bodies, their own uterus being removed, without their consent. They’ll tell you to your face they know you better than you know yourself, their words dripping with manufactured sympathy, because after all we’re the same: we’re both “female.”

If you haven’t already, please familiarize yourself with how radical feminism looks and how to spot a TERF beyond them saying they hate trans women. You don’t want to see these people around for any longer than it takes to block them.

[sometimesraven]

TES: Arena is officially 30 years old today

[beeholyshit]

WOWZERS

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,694

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

You know the soul-shattering feeling of your heart physically breaking?

That’s what was happening at this very moment. Acid tears, so hot that you’re convinced that your face is melting off, slid down your cheeks in rivers and burned your eyes as they spilled out. Your ears are ringing so loud and high-pitched, you can’t really even hear his words.

You’re pretty sure you’re pleading for him to stay by the fact that your lips are moving. His face pinches slightly in guilt as he listens to your pleas, though you know, as he squeezes your hands, your words are falling upon deaf ears. You grip his hands tightly to keep him here, with you, just a little bit longer, trying to make this moment stretch out as much as you could make it.

All you know is that your heart is breaking rapidly, you’re a sobbing, sweating, shaking mess in front of your yawne, and there’s a rapidly growing lump in the back of your throat that you can’t seem to swallow down, no matter how hard you try.

He looks at you quietly, searching your face, before squeezing your hands once more, gently. He leans down, lips to your ears, and he whispers out a quick “I’m sorry” before pulling out of your grasp.

And then, he was gone, leaving you to pick up the shattered, splintered shards of your glass heart all alone.

»»——⍟——««

That was three years ago. Three years ago, you were left to learn how to live a life without Neteyam to light your path and your world. Three years to find a new center of gravity for your world to revolve around. And you did.

You threw yourself into your training, working hard to become the best hunter and warrior the Omaticaya had ever seen. It kept your mind busy and  your heart intact.

The clan expected you to move on from the unexpected incident that would forever leave you wondering what you could’ve done wrong, but you hadn’t.

Not yet.

Three years and the pain of his betrayal was still just as raw and bitter as the day he’d chosen to leave you behind. You used to dream of him, dream of the moments you’d had with him. Over time, they’d turned to nightmares of him never coming back, leaving you to grow old by yourself. After that, your nightmares worsened, showing your worst fears to you at night; Neteyam coming back different. Different appearance, different personality, different everything. Those ones always left you curled up in a fetal position, sobbing into your hands in the morning.

At first, men tried to sway your stone cold heart, convinced that they had a chance with you now that the olo’eyktan’s son and your best friend was gone. Eventually, though, the attempts slowed, trickling down to a dry riverbed of looks and whispers pointed your way.

You watched as people your age, the people who grew up alongside you, settled down and began to have families of their own. That life looked nice, peaceful and comfortable, but it wasn’t the life for you.

Your parents tried to talk to you, to find a suitable mate that could mend your heart in ways that only Neteyam could. There were times you’d lay awake at night, listening to their hushed whispers as they tried to figure out a way to help you move on from your tragic breakup.

It was a pity they didn’t have any other children to provide them the grandchildren they longed for.

And then, in a blaze of glory and fancy, excitement-filled celebrations, he was back. After three years, he was back.

Taller, with broad shoulders and a grin that could melt hearts, Neteyam looked different and familiar all at the same time. Tattoos covered one side of chest and his shoulder as well as some of his face. His hair was the same, thin small braids, but some of the braids were pulled back into a bun at the back of his skull.

The moment he’d seen you, he tried to approach and you’d fled, unable to face the one person who could destroy everything you’d built in his absence.

You’d found a place that was private, safe from the eyes as well as the ears of others, offering you the safety to shed the tears that had been burning at the corners of your eyes.

You couldn’t help the burning suspicion that the village had planned this, that they had known he was coming back and they’d purposefully hid this revelation from you. As if they were expecting you to be wooed off your feet if you’d been taken by surprise. Their own planned romantic story.

It was a turmoil of emotions to try and process and, in order to address your emotions, you did the one thing that usually helped you focus and calm down; hunting.

By the time you got back to the path leading towards the village, the sun had already set in the sky, night taking over the forest, bioluminescent flora and fauna lighting your path as you walked.

You couldn’t help but slow your steady pace, despite the heavy yerik resting over your shoulders, as you marveled at the beauty of your home. Neon blues, greens, purples, and pinks glowed all around you, surrounding you, and it further built up the peace that had settled in your mind.

“You look beautiful right now, Y/n. I’d forgotten how perfect you looked when you were at peace.”

At the sound of the masculine voice, you spin around, dropping the yerik in the process in order to swap it out for the blade that sat at your waist.

Your eyes meet gentle, adoring golden eyes, and a smile pulls at his perfect lips. Despite the smile, the raise of his non-existent eyebrow pulls at his face, making him look more questioning than anything.

“What do you want, Neteyam?” you ask, trying to force yourself to be civil. Just because he broke your heart into a million tiny places, trampling on it and spitting on it by leaving you, it didn’t mean your parents hadn’t raised you to be polite.

Even to assholes like him.

“Mawey yawne,” he hums softly, moving closer, and you instinctively step back, keeping the same amount of space between him and yourself. Your hand continued to grip the handle of your knife tightly, prepared to stab and run if you needed to.

A perplexed expression crosses his face and, for just a split second, his smile dropped into a curious look.

“I am not your yawne. You lost that nickname when you left me,” you spat back at him and he let out a long sigh, deep and tired, as if he was dealing with a fussy, stubborn child, rather than a fellow adult.

You cross your arms, tapping your foot slightly. You have no patience for him. When, once before, you’d enjoy dancing around topics, swapping playful banter and loving nicknames, you just want to be left alone now.

“Alright. What would you prefer I call you, if not yawne?”

“Just address me as you have. My name is perfectly fine for the likes of you. Now, why do you harass me? It’s not like you cared much before.”

He turns his head away, looking towards the village, before meeting your eyes again.

“I didn’t see you at supper. I got worried, so I came to wait for your return.”

“How thoughtful,” you bit back, gathering up your yerik. When he moved to help, you slap his hands away and shove past him to continue up the trail towards home.

How ironic that he worried about your safety now, considering how little he cared before. It was almost as if Eywa had a twisted sense of humor, putting him in situations that mirrored the one before and guiding him to react in a different way. As if trying to make your dreams come back to life.

This time, though, you weren’t going to fall for the act. After all, it was just an act. Nothing more and nothing less. You hadn’t meant enough to him then. You certainly mean nothing to him now.

»»——⍟——««

He hadn’t meant to scare you off. Watching you disappear along the path with your game slung over your shoulders, his gaze traveled down your spine, towards your rounded ass that bounced with step in your elegant stride.

A lot had changed, he realized, with you. Three years had not only seen you out of your awkwardly adorable childhood and into the elegance of a fully blossomed woman, but also had seen the change of your personality.

Whereas before, you’d been sweet, bouncy, and optimistic, you now carried yourself with a calmness that spoke of just how proud you were of yourself. Nothing could throw you off, nor could it stop you from being so damn independent. Had it really changed you that much when he’d chosen to go with his family to the reef people?

Where had that sweet girl gone?

Poking his tongue out, he licked at his lips before following after you, keeping enough distance between you and himself that you wouldn’t realize he was following you. Try as he might, he could never forget you and, convinced that you would immediately allow him to sweep you off of your feet, he’d come back.

Was he obsessed with you?

Definitely.

Had he always been obsessed with you? There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he had been.

There was never a day that he didn’t think about you, about the way you looked up at him with such large, adoring eyes. The way your voice seemed to float like the clouds, soft like a song just waiting to be sung.

Before, you were smaller, just hitting puberty, with a thin waist and small frame. Now, you were a full fledged woman, curves in all the right places, with thick black hair that tumbled down your back and over your shoulders in curly waves.

You were beautiful then and now. And he was never going to let you go again.

[falmerbrook]

Been feeling down and having artblock so I wanted to draw something colorful and silly to try to get out of it

So have some My Little Morrowind: Friendship Betrayal is Magic

(and Sheo-Discord for funsies)

[alienwlw]

My type is pretty simple. I'm not a picky kind of guy. First, he must respect me. He must love my friends, and get along with them. Most importantly, he must not keep secrets from me.

[ratcorner]

[ID. A digital painting of the Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared protagonists falling into a convoluted spiral. In the center are the antagonists, intruding upon the scene. The canvas is crowded with images of the Teachers and the house. End ID.]

:•)

[illsadboy]

[kagrenacs]

Idk the context to this video, if there is one. But I've literally been thinking of it for the past 10 years.

[loveforneteyam]

❝your mighty warrior❞

summary: in the navi culture, those who lay with eywa stay with her and do not return to the living. therefore, you were incredibly thankful when the great mother returned your mate to you as if he had never been harmed. but what are you to do when your mighty warrior does not even recognize your eyes anymore?

pairing: neteyam x omaticaya!reader

warnings: atwow spoilers; major angst, mentions of character death, memory loss, struggle with identity, depression/anxiety, bittersweet ending, fluff

CHAPTERS

I. golden eyes II. reminisce III. great mother IV. purpose

loveforneteyam © 2023

[tenoch-hq]

Tenoch Huerta as Nereo in Hasta Que Te Conocí | S01E07

[venacoeurva]

TES Summer Fest- Aug 11- Profane

If you know what this is, enjoy? Sorry? You’re welcome?

-Please do not reupload, edit, or use without proper credit or linking back. Ask first.-

[eiwasuli]

𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

-ˋˏ widowed!jake sully & not widowed!jake ˎˊ

• my chrysanthemum

| chapter 01 ; chapter 02 ; chapter 03 ; chapter 04 ; chapter 05 ; chapter 06 ; chapter 07 ; chapter 08 ; epilogue — by @mystar-girl57

• folklore — by @stargirlrchive (i’ve read it over and over and over again)

• ocean eyes (sadly this series has stop and i do really enjoy it)

• forever: parted — by @neteyamyawne

• shallow end | part 01 ; part 02 — by @ronwestbreeze (not widow jake)

• thick skull — by ronwestbreeze

• again ; part 02 — by @jakegasm

• no name — by @fluloa

-ˋˏ neteyam sully ˎˊ

• chosen by eywa — by @randxmthxughts

• “The way I feel about you, is the how you feel about her.” ; “I don't want somebody having what we had” — by @thecapybara526 (i love this fic very much)

• “Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.” — by @katherines-imagines

• ralnga’ — by @dilfs-bitch

• peace — by @carpecaelo

• the deets — by @loaksky

• i trust you — by @loaksbitch

• just neteyam — by @lanasblood

• how do i make you love me

• mate of convenience — by @mcverse

-ˋˏ ao’nung ˎˊ

• that one’s mine — by @tonowarii

• heartfelt — by @nyctophicbtch

• young love | part 01 ; part 02 — by @yawntutsyip (super duper cute!!)

• i’ve neglected you far too long — by @anemonelovesfiction

• refuge — by @nelissecrectplace

-ˋˏ lo’ak sully ˎˊ

• high infidelity — by @ianales (i LOVE this, omg the ansty in this is a 🤌 and need a pt2 of this 😩)

-ˋˏ tsu'tey ˎˊ

• unrequited — by randxmthxughts

ʬʬ please if anyone have more widow!jake sully, can you please tag me to it, cause i love angsty. or any angsty avatar just tag me to it!! thank you very much!

[pinardenizs]

"I see you're back. Up for some fun?"

As the crow flies, S2E02.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,506

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was everywhere.

When you were supposed to be training the younger hunters, when you were telling stories to the children, when you were eating meals with the rest of the clan.

No matter where you were, you could count on him being nearby, keeping an eye on you as if you were his and only his.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought, mainly because you knew that, no matter what, you would never belong to anyone. Especially not to him.

Though… in a way, it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much about who you were around. Annoying as it was, he was very eager to show that he still cared about you despite all these years of separation.

No matter what, though, you were determined to not allow him to get into your head again. Not this time. Not ever again.

Gritting your fists, you set yourself into the mindspace of the task you had to do now; some one on one training with a young student who was currently a bit farther behind than the others.

Walking along the trodden dirt path, you came to a clearing surrounded by thickly growing plants, trees towering over you as if reaching to the blue hued sky above. You draw in a slow breath, letting it out slowly as you wait for your student to show up, bow resting against your back.

“I hope you don’t mind. I convinced Ìtseì to let me have this training session with you. I could use some practice with you.”

Exasperated, you turn to level Neteyam with your best, coldest glare, only to find that he was unfazed by your hostility. He simply smirked back at you, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his bow from behind his back.

“Are you sure you still know how to use a bow? After all that time, swimming with the reef people… it probably left you extremely rusty.”

“Ah, there’s that spitfire I’ve been waiting for,” Neteyam responded, notching one of his feathered arrows. Intricately carved, delicate and deadly. Quick to pierce hearts, sharp enough to end a life in one shot.

Just like how he ended the life you’d had before.

You shake your head, regathering your thoughts to what you needed to do.

“You’re a big boy. Help yourself. Since Ìtseì did not show up, I will go and hunt by myself,” you respond, turning your back to the male, fully intent on hunting alone.

Except, he didn’t leave you alone.

You were beginning to wonder if this was a behavioral pattern that had been forged into him by his father from a young age. After all, Neteyam followed Jake around all the time as a child, ready and waiting for orders or instructions that only he could take care of.

That had to be the reason for his stalker-like behavior.

Pushing aside heavy, large leaves and small viney shrubs, you could hear him behind you, despite the fact that he was very obviously trying hard not to make a sound.

“Following me is not going to get you on my good side,” you warn softly, throwing the comment over your shoulder aggressively as you walked a bit faster.

He wasn’t discouraged, nor did he seem to be bothered by your sharp words or your dismissive behavior. In fact, it seemed to spur him on more, his footsteps speeding up so that he could catch up with you.

“Come on, Y/n. Can’t we just talk? You and I, together, like we used to do. Please.”

His fingers wrap around your wrist and you yank away, at the same time swinging your bow at him, instinctive training kicking in. He ducked down, barely missing the slash of your bow in the area where his face had been mere seconds ago.

“Do not touch me, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan. I am not your yawne. I am not your childhood friend. I am not your toy or your plaything. You have destroyed everything we once had. You have crumbled every bridge that sat between you and I. I want nothing to do with you.”

This time, he falters, a look of horror and shock on his face. But you aren’t really sure if that was directed towards the fact that you’d tried to hit him or the words that had just spilled from your lips.

You turn away to hide the tears that were now burning hot and fresh in your eyes, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. He didn’t even deserve that.

Your feet move before you can think about it, taking you rapidly farther away from the stunned form of the boy who’d ruined your life. You were certain he’d leave you alone now. After all, he was smart, quick to understand the things people were telling him.

Or at least, he used to be.

Your ears twitch to the sound of him running to catch up once more and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Obviously, the ways of the water have dumbed down that intelligence, considering how desperate he was to ignore your stinging-sharp words and your ice-cold disposition towards him specifically.

“Y/n, stop walking.”

You don’t belong to him. You never did. So why did your feet falter in your path? Why did you hesitate to keep going, even as you turn to face him once more?

“Open up, Y/n. I’m back. I’m here. I’m here and I want to talk to you. I want to fix what I broke before. Please, let me explain myself to you.”

There’s a hint of desperation in that smooth tone of his, a soft drop of pleading that didn’t belong to the body that spoke the words. He’d never been the begging type before.

You open your mouth, prepared to respond in the same way as before, when a sharp sting erupted in your cheek and you tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Your hand slides up, cupping your sore cheek, as you stare up in shock at the male looming over you, a new expression on his face. Unreadable and hard to pick apart.

“I just want you to hear me out. Just onc- oomph!”

Before he’s finished, you’re launching yourself at him, slamming your shoulder into his abdomen and knocking him to the ground, the soft grass beneath your feet doing nothing to cushion his fall.

“You don’t deserve my attention!” you shriek, grabbing and yanking at his braids as you wrestle him in an attempt to win the little brawl. He’s fighting back, which you had to give him credit for. It wasn’t something you’d expected from him.

Rolling in the grass, disrupting plants and innocent, wandering wildlife, biting and scratching and pulling at anything you can get your hands on, you realize he’s not going to let you win easily.

And for once in your life since he left, you welcome this. Everyone else had been taking it easy on you, seeing as how you were pretty destroyed by his departure. Things had been done for you if they seemed to be too hard. Your parents had doted on you for the past three years, trying to make up the love that you’d lost.

You needed a challenge.

And he was providing it.

It was exciting, exhilarating, full of promises of a frustrated loss or an awarding victory.

You put your all into this little sparring match, putting all of your otherwise-useless training to use. When it became clear that he was doomed to lose, he still refused to fold, fighting until the very end.

When he tapped out, the sensation of a satisfactory win filled you up inside and you couldn’t help the grin that began to grow on your face.

You sat in the grass, working to catch your breaths, silence spreading out between the small clearing you’d both found yourself in.

It was nice, peaceful and calm. Like the days you’d shared as children, playing in the streams under careful adult watch or laying in the grass and staring up at the sky as his siblings ran around picking flowers and playing games.

“Please, talk to me,” he murmured after a while, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had begun to fill you with melancholy as you reminisced on the days of your childhood.

You stand slowly, dusting yourself off as he watched you, trying to come up with the right way to explain yourself.

“I can’t,” you respond, finally meeting his gaze.

“Neteyam, you cannot fix this. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’ve moved on with my life. Don’t you think it is about time that you moved on with yours as well?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even bother to get up, and you grab your discarded items from the ground, not saying another word.

Yet… as you walk away, you realize with a sinking heart, that perhaps, you’d not gotten over him as much as you wanted to believe you had.

Taglist // @earthling55

[falmerbrook]

"Sadri" is the Dunmer family name version of "Smith"