I have an idea, also na'vi but imagine a evil na'vi with a human reader. Like truly mean to her. Kinda revengeful over all the harm that has been done by humans. The noncon would so much harder cause he'd be awful about it.
OHOHOHOHOHO YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION 👀 hmmm I'm thinking a na'vi that left his clan because he could not agree with joining forces with a once-human man to fight against humans. Sees it as poison from within, a rot that'll eventually spread up the branches and kill the rest.
He saw Hometree burn and collapse, no human can be trusted when any of them could cause that level of destruction on a whim. Doesn't matter what form they take, if they wear his skin, they're still demons, vrrtep, a plague on Eywa'eveng that'll never go away unless it's plucked out by the root.
Then, there's you. Poor you, nowhere near the Na'rìng forest when the Great Sorrow happens. Somewhere more isolated, lacking an avatar body to drive, just a measly little scientist.
He finds your shack some time after he decided to leave his clan, deep within the swathes of the Kinglor forest, miles and miles away from home. It looks abandoned at first, the outside covered in various plants, dented in some places. Ditched trash, another favorite pastime of humans.
But then, he sees a light inside. Peeks through a window and spots you.
You're totally clueless, unsuspecting of the predator lurking outside your shack. In fact, you weren't expecting your ride back to the main base for another week, and the spot the folks at the RDA chose was relatively safe.
As far as you are aware.
But that illusion of safety was just that -- an illusion. And it shatters when the window to the shack does, punched in by a massive, blue fist.
It's only instinct that allows you to snatch up an exopack before the loss of breathable air gets to you. Just as you slide it on and press the valve, a second blue hand reaches in and grabs you by the arms, mercilessly dragging you out of the shack, uncaring of how the shards cut into your skin through your clothes.
At first, he's absolutely pissed. You're just another useless pest, destroying the fragile ecosystem of the moon. Your screaming and crying and pleading only serves to upset him further. For a minute.
Something warm blooms in his chest, his stomach, as he stops to stare at your face. You're sobbing, tears streaming over your cheeks, pooling on the seal of the mask at your chin.
Seeing you cry, it awakes a primal... need. Something that burns hot in his veins and makes his jaw clench.
Well, he did pack light. He's got plenty of room for a... pet.
Besides, he could use the entertainment.
