#'70s

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summary As the niece of Grace Augustine, responsibility has always shadowed your every step. But this time, you choose to chase it—journeying to Pandora to carry forward your aunt’s devotion to its people and ecosystem. Welcomed into the Omaticaya’s lush rainforest home, you expect purpose and legacy. What you don’t expect is to find yourself entangled in the arms of the future Olo’eyktan.

warnings neteyam x reader, this story canonically happens between the events of Way of The Water and the first movie but the characters ages have been adjusted to fit the story. So neteyam is in his 20s and so is the reader. Some characters are also brought back from the dead bcs I wanted to <3 love my man Tsu’tey .

word count : 2.7k

read part one here

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Part Two

The next day shines cool and bright against your face. You are shaken awake by the sharp screech of an ikran cutting across the sky overhead.

For a moment, you lie still. Your body feels… different. Not sore. Not hurt. Just aware. Aware of yesterday.

You shift beneath the woven canopy, pushing aside hanging leaves before stepping out into the filtered morning light. The air is crisp, alive. You walk, slightly dazed, toward your makeshift lab.

You begin unpacking with deliberate care. Notes stacked neatly. Books aligned. Test tubes, sample vials, collection tools laid out in careful order.

Then you place it gently at the edge of the table.A small pink digital camera— Old, Earth-made and slightly scratched.

Grace had given it to you when you were a child. She placed the tiny camera into your soft, infant, hands as she told you to document whatever it is that you felt had mattered. “Science is memory,” she used to say. You run your thumb over its surface before setting it down.

Just as you lift your now-empty backpack onto the table, a voice rings through the quiet air.

“Hey!”

You turn. Kiri hops toward you, bright as the morning itself.

“How’d you sleep?” she asks, already halfway inside your tent without waiting for permission.You don’t mind.

“It was good,” you reply. “Different. But good.”

She grins. “You’ll get used to it.”

The two of you talk easily. Conversations float like feather, ones about sleep, about how the Na’vi cleanse at the streams at dawn, about small rituals that feel sacred in their simplicity. She leads you toward the water, cool and clear, and you wash away the last of yesterday’s tension.

Later, you change into something simple — a white T-shirt, cargo shorts. Practical. Neutral. Safe.

When you reach the clearing, Jake Sully stands waiting.

Not too far behind him—

Neteyam.

Your heart betrays you immediately.It flips, sharp and uncontrollable. Despite every effort you made last night to bury whatever this is.

He looks at you. But it doesn’t feel like yesterday’s.

Yesterday there was something soft. Curious. Almost boyish.Today his gaze is sharper, distant and detached.

“Neteyam will guide you today,” Jake says casually.

You nod.

“Keep her safe,” he adds, glancing at his son. If there is a subtle undertone there, you can’t decipher it. Jake turns and leaves.

That’s it? No ceremony. No elaboration.

Neteyam jerks his head forward slightly, indicating for you to follow. You comply.

The two of you move away from Home Tree, deeper into the forest. The path is familiar — the same one Jake, Tsu’tey and you passed through when you first arrived.

For hours, it is work and strictly work.

You document. Photograph. Collect samples.

He explains the basics of certain plants in a monotonous and official tone. which ones glow, which ones sting, and which ones breathe differently at dusk.

You can feel his gaze on you sometimes — especially when you kneel to examine something, when your focus sharpens and your pupils widen in fascination.But he doesn’t speak unless necessary.

“Do not touch that.”

“Stay back.”

“Hold this.”

Cold, professional commands detached of any soul, yet they feel like jabs at your hopeful heart. slowly, the excitement you had built in your chest begins to dissolve— Maybe you imagined yesterday.Maybe the tension was just proximity.Maybe you wanted something that was never there.

You shut it down.You work mechanically. If he is uninterested, you will be too.

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Neteyam feels every second of your field visit. Oh he feels every.single.second.

He notices the way you withdraw, The way your laughter is quieter.The way you stop looking up at him after explanations.

He reminds himself you are not here for long.He reminds himself you are promised to someone else.He reminds himself that he is the future Olo’eyktan.

And yet—

Every time light filters through the canopy and lands across your face, illuminating the fine curve of your cheek—

Every time your eyes widen at something beautiful—

It feels like something lodges in his chest.It’s sharp and immediate. He can’t really tell. all he’s sure of is that it’s a feeling he can’t quite name.

He knows if he lets his walls down before you, he will fall somewhere he cannot return from.So he chooses discipline even though it aches.

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When you return to Home Tree, you separate immediately. You jolt towards the opposite direction the second you notice Kiri and Tuk by the clearing. You notice that Neteyam is slower to part from you, you pay it no mind.

You hear Kiri shout your name, and before you can react, she is pulling you away by the arm.

Neteyam’s eyes follow the motion sharply before he forces himself to look away.

“How was it?” she asks brightly. “Did you find everything?”

“Yes,” you reply evenly. “Your brother was very helpful.”Your force a neutral tone.

“Oh, he is such a sweetheart,” she teases.

You force a small smile.

“Anyway,” she continues, “the festival is approaching. You‘ve come at the perfect time.”

“Festival?”

“In honor of what my father and the Omaticaya did. To protect Eywa.”

Your eyes widen slightly.

“Oh. That sounds— incredible.”

“It is. Many clans will come.”

Excitement sparks in your chest again, replacing the dull ache from earlier.

“I’d be honored to celebrate,” you say softly.

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“Here comes the lover boy,” Lo’ak announces dramatically as Neteyam approaches.

Lo’ak throws an arm over his brother’s shoulders.

“What do you want?” Neteyam mutters.

“You and the scientist,” Lo’ak grins.

Neteyam stiffens.

“How was the first date?”

“It was not a date,” Neteyam hisses. “Skxawng.”

Lo’ak laughs. “Are you going to take her around during the festival?”

“Me and her.” He motions between himself and the empty space next to him. “Duty.”

“Sure,” Lo’ak smirks before running off.

Neteyam stands still for a long moment afterward.

Duty. Is it?

When he has to beg Eywa to not let you notice the way he glances at you for too long when you’re near him. The way he begs Eywa to ensure you don’t hear how fast his alien heart beats when you smile at him or thank him for watching out for you.

He knows enough about earth to know that this isn’t what duty feels like.

“Neteyam” the voice cuts like light rays through the mist in Neteyam’s mind— fogged with thoughts of you. It’s Neytiri.

“I need to speak to you” she declares “Marui. Now.”

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“So” she begins, neteyam’s shoulders are crouched. Just braced — like he already knows where this is going.

Neytiri stands before him, eyes sharp, posture unyielding.

“You believe I do not see it?”

He keeps his voice level. “See what?”

“The hesitation.”

“I do not hesitate.”

Her gaze doesn’t waver.

“You think because you complete your tasks, that it is enough.”

“I have done everything asked of me.”

“Yes,” she replies evenly. “You have done what is asked.” The distinction slices. Neteyam’s jaw tightens.

“You move like someone carrying doubt,” she continues. “Your strikes are strong, but your mind is divided.”

“My mind is here.”

“Your body is here,” she corrects.

Silence impales his throat, he swallows it dry.

“I have not failed you.”

The words slip out before he can stop them. They’re not defensive or angry, just tight.

Neytiri steps closer now.“I did not say you failed.”

“But you imply it.”

Her ears flick slightly at that. “You are the eldest son of Toruk Makto,” she says. “Future Olo’eyktan. The clan watches you. They must see certainty.”

“I am certain.”

“No.” The word lands heavy.“You are trying.”

His breath falters almost imperceptibly. Trying?

He has always tried.Harder. Faster. Better.From the time he could hold a bow, From the time he understood what his father’s name meant.

He straightens fully now.“What more do you want from me?” he asks quietly.

It’s not a challenge, but it’s far worse.It’s honesty.

Neytiri’s expression hardens.It wasn’t cruel, but immovable.

“I want you to be unwavering.”

“I am.”

“You are not.”

That does it. Something in his chest shifts.He looks away for half a second, toward the forest, toward the sky, anywhere but her eyes.And she sees it.

“There,” she says softly. “That.”

His hands curl at his sides.

“I train. I patrol. I attend council. I lead.”

“And yet you feel heavier,” she says.

He doesn’t answer.Because she’s right.

“You cannot afford weakness,” she continues. “Not in thought. Not in heart.”

“Understood.”

“For the coming days,” she says, “you will lead both dawn and dusk patrols.”

“Yes, Mother.” He replies in submission, but also as to remind her subtly, that beneath everything, she is his mother.

She turns to leave, then disappears into the trees.

Neteyam stands alone in the clearing.For a long moment, he does not move. The u comforting and heavy silence interrupted as he exhales.

But it doesn’t ease anything.It just feels like something sinking.

He looks down at his hands.

They’re steady.Always steady. But still, not enough.

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That evening, you lie in your hammock beneath the open sky. For once, you have nothing to catalog, nothing to analyze. You decide to take the best out of the liberty that the tribe has offered to you, you step out for a walk.

It is then that you recall something Kiri had mentioned a few days ago, the Kxaylì Tirea. A beautiful river close to the Home Tree, yet isolated and distanced from the bustling evening crowd. The plants beneath the water shined proudly at night, emitting bioluminescent cascades that lit up the water that protected it. You wished to find it but you didn’t want to bother Kiri, who was occupied with work.

You decided to find it yourself.

You step out your lab-marui and walk in vague directions for a bit, you see Neteyam walk outside the Olo’eyktan’s marui, his face filled with disdain. Sure you’ve seen him detached; but it was never this bad. It felt as though his soul was snatched away from him and the fire that so passionately lit his eyes was drawn out by rough winds.

His eyes catch yours for a breif minute before you look away and walk towards the opposite direction. Something inside you kicks and crawls at you to ask him what has happened. But you disobey.

It’s been half an hour before you realise you’ve been spinning endlessly in the same circle in pursuit of the Kxaylì Tirea. Every path you take to the west, or east, leads you right back to the clearing. You’re hyper aware of how the locals might be laughing off at your idiocracy. What seemingly makes it worse is how everytime you round back up, you see Neteyam posted up in one corner or the other, eyeing you with curiousity and amusement.

“Hey.” It’s neteyam, the fourteenth time you find yourself in the same clearing. “Are you trying to leave the Home Tree?” He asks

You let out a loose and real chuckle, gosh he loves when you do that— the way your eyes close, the way your cheeks expand and the way you throw your head back as you laugh. Your laugh puts him in a trance.

Misreading his awe for disapproval, you immediately correct yourself. “I was uh” “searching for the Kxaylì Tirea”

He let’s out a small smile. “I can take you there, if you want” he asks with his gaze parked low, his hand behind his neck.

You nod “please” you shoot him your best smile.

The two of you walk together, Neteyam leads you across paths you’ve either missed or walked right past the first fourteen times. With him, the walk is smooth and secure.

The trees clear out over a ridge, revealing a lustrous path of liquid that looks like silk laid across the greenery. You can’t help but gasp a little at how serene the view before you is.

“Wow” you say

“Wow” he repeats

The two of you walk forward and seat yourselves near the riverside. You gently raise an arm and let it sit in the water, wading through it gently to feel it. You close your eyes.

Neteyam takes notice of your antic.

“It’s believed” he begins “that whatever you wish for here comes true.” He says, his eyes glued to the river.

“Oh” you say, you can’t really reply to him as you’re awestruck by it’s beauty. You slowly shift your head to face him.

“I may not be in a position to ask, but you seemed really… unwell today”

Neteyam raises an eyebrow in confusion “unwell?”

“You just didn’t seem… content”

“I can only be content, if those around me are” he says

“That must be— unfulfilling” you say.

For the first time in a long time, Neteyam feels as though someone has read the right words in his heart, mirrored exactly what he feels, and put them into words. This makes him take more interest towards you, he turns to face you.

“My aunt, she was great, everyone loved her. And every second I’m here; I’m scared I’ll do something that’ll hurt the people, or displease them. Then everything Grace did for them comes crashing down. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but i wish sometimes— that the things i do affected only me and no one else”

You feel good getting these words out.

Neteyam stands there looking at you, he never expected you to get this vulnerable with him. He’s surprised you let yourself come undone before him. Neytiri’s conversation today left him feeling things he didn’t like feeling about himself— and to know that someone else felt the same way he did, there was no better cure than that.

“Hmm” he can only manage this.

“Toruk Makto’s son, i get it” he says.

You laugh a little.

What started as a venting session soon blooms into a beautiful bonding moment between the two of you. both of you open about the struggles of keeping up a well forged legacy and being whole as individuals.

Neteyam comes undone before you, revealing his insecurities and hopes for the future. You sense something in your conversation that lies deeper than just finding friendship and comfort within each other, but you’re not quite ready to name it just yet. You let it sit there calmly, undisturbed.

“You remind me” he says “of Dari”

“Who’s that?”

“My grandmother used to speak of her a lot; she’s a forest mage, a fairy”

“Oh” you giggle “why does she remind you of me”

“Because she cares about the forest; she feels it, observes it, she’s Eywa’s favourite” he says

You laugh at the prospect of being Eywa’s favourite. Silence is quick to follow.

“Can I… uh… call you Dari?” He asks

You’re taken aback, the level or comfort that had suddenly surged between you is surprising yet reassuring.

“Yeah. I’d like that very much” you stare into his eyes this time. You know whatever you felt in your mind and didn’t say out loud at that moment, he had heard.

“Make a wish” he says, breaking the silence that was beginning to simmer into something else between the two or you.

You push your hands into the cool water, and for some reason you wish in impulse that Neteyam be yours

Stupid stupid stupid! Is this what you’re here for?

You can’t explain why you did it, you just did. You sneak a glance at Neteyam— his hands are in the river, eyes closed in reverence and prayer. What could he have wished for?

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He offers to walk you back to your marui this time around. there’s a sense of comfort that you both have found in eachother that excites and scares you at the same time.

As you reach the stone path leading up to your marui, you turn to wave your nightly goodbye to Neteyam.

“We have a long hike tomorrow” he tells you

“The plant you wanted to observe? It’s deeper in the forest. Well have to start early”

“Oh really?” You tell him “then i better get to sleep”

He nods in approval. You stay for a minute, comfortable in the silence that follows.

You walk slowly towards your Marui but you can’t help but turn around. as much you hate to admit it , you didn’t want this night, and this proximity, to end.

You exhale and manage a small smile at Neteyam.

“Good night Nete” you take your liberty

“Good night, Dari” and finally, he takes his.

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Jimmy Page at Headley Grange in It Might Get Loud.

One of the most moving moments of the film comes when you go back to Headley Grange (a former Victorian workhouse in Hampshire), where you recorded a lot of Zeppelin’s most important music. How did it feel for you after all that time?

Well, it was very moving for me. I certainly hadn’t been given the full run of that house since back in the day. I hadn’t really been back since then, and I tried to sort of be cool about it while they were filming, but actually, it was really emotional going back there, because it wasn’t just one stand that we had at Headley Grange – there were a number of visits there with the recording truck. It comprised most of the fourth album and certain material that’s on Houses Of The Holy and a lot of the material that’s on Physical Graffiti as well, so even things like Kashmir were recorded there. When we were filming we went into the living room where we recorded all these numbers like Rock And Roll and Going To California, so it really was very emotional for me to go back there after all these years.

Jimmy in It Might Get Loud.

One of the funniest and most unexpected moments in It Might Get Loud is when you start dancing around at home playing what can only be described as air-guitar. Isn’t that something you would normally do in private with the lights out?

Yeah, I know, that is a bit odd (laughs). I wouldn’t normally play bloody air-guitar, and I certainly try never to do it in front of a camera, but when I first heard Rumble, it’s just got that thing about it. It’s just so atmospheric… You can cut it with a knife.

Does that record still give you the same feeling when you hear it now?

What, the Rumble? Ooh, absolutely. I can still remember when I first heard it in 1958, and when I hear that record now, I’m still a young kid listening to it. It’s like I’m 15-years-old. If I ever really felt depressed, I would just start putting on all my old records that I played as a kid, because the whole thing that really lifted me then still lifted me during those other times. It was good medicine for me, and it still does that for me when I put something on. Isn’t it wonderful that we’ve got all that good medicine? I think it’s got to be all part of our DNA, this mass communication through music. That’s what it is. It’s got to be, hasn’t it? Music is the one thing that has been consistently there for me. It hasn’t let me down.

🌆 Discopolis: i planned for more denizens (businessman, construction worker, etc), didn't pan out!

📱 FUNKAHOLIC: i take most of my pics & vids with my phone! these in particular were taken with a Google Pixel 6a, so i'm especially happy they came out better than expected for a budget android selfie camera

♥ Blame It On the DJ: DATAGIRL & i never actually met up for this, all pics of us were stitched together!

🍸 Discoholics Anonymous: my outfit (far left) is actually a "Saturday Night Fever" costume - my shirt was changed to green in post to match the rainbow of the other members (Doc Scratch similarities purely coincidental)