· · ─ ·ʚ dabura karaba ɞ· ─ · · female pov
tides of the moon
elysian fields

please note i will NOT allow,
SA, R4PE, ABUSE, OR ANY OF THAT WEIRD SH1T.

fluff · sfw, contains no explicit, violent, graphic, or adult themes.
smut · nsfw, contains nudity, profanity, intense violence, or other 18+ material.
angst, a strong feeling of anxiety, dread, or deep unhappiness.

PROMPT: FEMPOV 001, eye contact

It was supposed to be nothing more than a diplomatic meeting between the Simurians and the humans of Earth. A long conference table stretched through the room, crowded with government officials, translators, and Simurian delegates sharing bowls of ramen, plates of takoyaki, and awkward conversations about culture.

At the head of the table sat Dabura Karaba, the undisputed leader of the extraterrestrial refugees. He had spoken only when necessary, his calm, imposing presence enough to quiet the room whenever voices grew too loud. Eventually, he rose from his chair, muttering that he would return shortly, and made his way toward the hallway.

Just as he reached the doorway, he stopped.

You stood on the other side, hand resting on the frame, equally surprised to find someone so impossibly tall blocking your path. The two of you locked eyes without a word.

The room behind him continued buzzing with conversation, but the silence between you was so heavy that even Usami and Jabaloma noticed it immediately. Neither of them dared interrupt. You expected him to step aside. He expected you to do the same. Instead, neither of you moved.

Dabura studied you with an intensity that made the air itself feel heavier. There was no hostility in his expression, no visible curiosity either—only a quiet, lingering stare that lasted several seconds longer than it should have. Finally, his voice broke the silence.

"...Are humans always this stubborn?"

PROMPT: FEMPOV 002. 003, insufferable

You never treated me with the caution everyone else did. No trembling voice. No careful choice of words. You spoke to me as if I were merely another colleague instead of a calamity capable of reducing cities to ash. It was irritating. Worse still, you seemed to enjoy how easily you could provoke me. Every briefing ended with you wearing that infuriating smile, as though my patience had become your favorite pastime.

"You have very nice eyes."

"They're the same eyes I've always had."

"I know."

"Then why mention them?"

PROMPT: FEMPOV 004, create your story.