And now, I'm different from before
Feb. 13th, 2026 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravensilversea Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail
Rating: G
Tags: Canon Compliant, Triple Drabble, Sickfic, Fluff and Humor, Established Relationship, Hair Braiding
Notes: Title is from this Emily Dickinson poem
(Also on Ao3)
Kafka runs a hand through gray-brown hair. The sweat and unwashed oils have turned the usually soft strands into a wiry, almost sticky mass that cannot be comfortable to have hanging loose. She gathers a section, divides it into three, and as she begins to braid it back, Stelle hums into her stomach.
“You like that, hun?”
Stelle mumbles something, sleepy and contented. She shifts in Kafka’s lap, almost pulling her hair out of her partner’s hands, until she’s blinking up at Kafka, golden eyes stark against her fever-flushed cheeks. Kafka hums a little “Oh” of sympathy as she brushes the sweat from her forehead. For a moment, those golden eyes close, her darling leans into her hand, and a gentle sigh of relief warms the air between them.
It seems like Stelle then slips back into her dozing state, so Kafka returns to the braid in her hands. She’s tying it off with a burgundy ribbon when Stelle asks:
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Kafka can’t help it. She laughs. Of all the things to ask, she leans her face against one hand and strokes Stelle’s fevered cheek with the other.
Deep creases form in her darling’s brow, and Stelle’s nose scrunches up like an adorable little rabbit’s. “Kafka,” she whines. “It’s a serious question.” Her bottom lip sulkily pouts out.
“And you’re the only one who would ask it.” Kafka fishes for one of Stelle’s hands, presses it to her lips with the adoration of a knight. “Of course, I’d love you, hun. Where would I be without you?”
This time, the red that spreads across Stelle’s face has nothing to do with her fever. “Kafka!” She whines again, burying her head back down in her partner’s lap. And Kafka laughs and laughs.
Rating: G
Tags: Canon Compliant, Triple Drabble, Sickfic, Fluff and Humor, Established Relationship, Hair Braiding
Notes: Title is from this Emily Dickinson poem
(Also on Ao3)
Kafka runs a hand through gray-brown hair. The sweat and unwashed oils have turned the usually soft strands into a wiry, almost sticky mass that cannot be comfortable to have hanging loose. She gathers a section, divides it into three, and as she begins to braid it back, Stelle hums into her stomach.
“You like that, hun?”
Stelle mumbles something, sleepy and contented. She shifts in Kafka’s lap, almost pulling her hair out of her partner’s hands, until she’s blinking up at Kafka, golden eyes stark against her fever-flushed cheeks. Kafka hums a little “Oh” of sympathy as she brushes the sweat from her forehead. For a moment, those golden eyes close, her darling leans into her hand, and a gentle sigh of relief warms the air between them.
It seems like Stelle then slips back into her dozing state, so Kafka returns to the braid in her hands. She’s tying it off with a burgundy ribbon when Stelle asks:
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Kafka can’t help it. She laughs. Of all the things to ask, she leans her face against one hand and strokes Stelle’s fevered cheek with the other.
Deep creases form in her darling’s brow, and Stelle’s nose scrunches up like an adorable little rabbit’s. “Kafka,” she whines. “It’s a serious question.” Her bottom lip sulkily pouts out.
“And you’re the only one who would ask it.” Kafka fishes for one of Stelle’s hands, presses it to her lips with the adoration of a knight. “Of course, I’d love you, hun. Where would I be without you?”
This time, the red that spreads across Stelle’s face has nothing to do with her fever. “Kafka!” She whines again, burying her head back down in her partner’s lap. And Kafka laughs and laughs.
