she/her, he/him! butch lesbian! If you don’t like my theories and headcanons, that’s okay, the game is for different people and nothing is set in stone! I would love a conversation about your own thoughts, I am always open to stuff <3
Hey there! I’m just another star rail blog! The difference is that I am reallyyyyyy really abnormal about the IPC and Stellaron Hunters. I’m not GREAT with lore, so pleease don’t hate me if i get some things wrong :,) and id love to hear your theories and headcanons!
This is a sideblog, to prevent everyone (if irl friends find this) going to my main and finding out how extra weird i am, i cant like comments or posts etc <3
You can find fics, headcanons, and theories here on this account, though! feel free to ask me stuffs
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
ok so. um. red is circling blade’s abandoned sword. purple is kafka who is, obviously being stabbed BY us, USING firefly’s sword. Silver wolf’s glasses lay on the floor too.
UMMMMMM. is this some kind of cycle thing? please let it just be in another cycle or im going to get nanook THEMSELF to blast me
content warning for alcohol mention, but aside from that, just yearning! Based off the “Old brews, new friends” event, from the point of view of Kafka as she visits Stelle to find her fast asleep.
She won’t pretend she didn’t come here for her, but Kafka didn’t expect this. The face usually lit up with joy and jest is now slack. Restful. The girl looks tired, exhausted even, as her cheek smushes against the bar. She has circles under her eyes, breaths slow and even as her silvery hair slumps in front of her face. So, so tired.
Kafka’s heart does a little flip. That’s— it’s her, her stelle, her partner, the one that stayed with her and understood her. And she’s fast asleep, seemingly after a busy day. There’s a bar stool placed almost deliberately across the marble from stelle, so Kafkaq slowly sits, careful not to wake the sleeping trailblazer with the slight squeak of the leather. She’ll stay. Just until she wakes. Keep her safe.
She’s so beautiful. Kafka’s eyes trail over every feature, filled with an affection even the woman herself didn’t know she was capable of. Every pore, every eyelash, the slight twitching every so often. It was endearing but also felt so nice. The bar is silent, only the soft snores of Stelle and Kafka’s own quieter breaths filling the room.Â
Kafka’s cheek rests on her hand as she leans on her elbow, simply admiring the gangly form of her former partner. Touch. touch. Every fingertip burns with the need to touch that face. Her face. Touch those soft strands of hair, touch the skin of her cheek, touch her pink lips that part ever so slightly as she breathes.Â
Kafka doesn’t realise what she’s doing before the resting face before her suddenly jerks awake, a small breath catching in her throat. Stelle’s eyes are foggy with sleep, maybe with something else? Is she alright? But those thoughts are interrupted by a voice. Her voice.
“Is this— is this a dream? How long’ve i been asleep?”
Stelle’s voice is so soft, a little croaky, that it would be counted as a whisper. But it’s that same voice. The one that has accompanied Kafka throughout her missions. It takes the woman a few moments to remember she does in fact, need to reply to that. “From when I started counting, about fifteen minutes. As for before that, I’m afraid only you can say.”
Stelle stays silent another beat, so she says something else. “Shh, no need to fret. Just me.” It’s all okay again. The conversation goes on a little longer, stelle revealing the slight flush to her cheeks is merely a strange blend of alcohol “Sparkle” made her make. Kafka doesn’t quite understand the situation, but she notes down to pay a visit to the masked fool. Frankly, she’s not paying much attention. Stelle’s voice is warm and conversation comes easily, as she both listens to Kafka’s reminiscence of the past and tells her own stories of her trailblazing adventures. It’s almost like she’s home again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
âś“ Live Streamingâś“ Interactive Chatâś“ Private Showsâś“ HD Qualityâś“ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
It’s so clear Wolfie is the youngest stellaron hunter. She’s dragging her feet, stalling, clinging onto anyone who shows her care, because she has no clue how to deal with a potential loss of her family. It doesn’t help that nobody else apart from us are there. she can’t find refuge in Kafka or Firefly because they’re not here. For her, right now, when Blade dies, she is completely alone.
