#emotional vulnerability and introspection

[aventurineswife]

Could I request the Astral Express trio (you can choose Stelle or Caelus) with a reader (GN) who is also a member of the Express who is like an older sibling? Reprimanding them when they get hurt, or comforting them when they're upset?

No One is Alone

Summary: Life aboard the Astral Express isn't just about fighting enemies or exploring new worlds—it's also about looking out for each other. As the team's older sibling figure, you take it upon yourself to reprimand Dan Heng and Stelle after they return from a mission injured. Through scolding, comforting, and heartfelt conversations, you remind them that they're part of a team and don't have to face their struggles alone.

Tags: Astral Express Trio x Reader, Platonic, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Dynamics, GN!Reader, Protective!Reader, Team Bonding, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (non-graphic), Mild guilt/self-blame themes, Emotional vulnerability and introspection.

The hum of the Astral Express filled the air, a comforting backdrop to life aboard the interstellar train. You sat in the lounge, scanning over a datapad while keeping half an ear tuned to the faint commotion from the infirmary. It was a sound you'd become all too familiar with since joining the crew.

Dan Heng and Stelle—recovering from yet another scrape they shouldn't have gotten into.

The infirmary door swished open, and March peeked out, her expression torn between amusement and sympathy. "They're ready for the scolding..." she chirped.

You sighed, setting your datapad aside. Rising to your feet, you felt the weight of your role—neither a fighter nor a strategist, but the de facto big sibling of this unconventional family.

The scene in the infirmary was almost comical. Stelle sat on one of the cots, a bandage around her upper arm, her usual unbothered expression firmly in place. Dan Heng stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, looking stoic despite the gash on his shoulder that hadn't been there when the mission started.

"Care to explain?" you began, arms crossed and gaze level.

"It was just a minor miscalculation." Dan Heng replied calmly.

"A 'minor miscalculation' doesn't leave you bleeding, Dan Heng," you said pointedly, turning to Stelle. "And you—didn't I tell you to call for backup if things went south?"

Stelle gave a sheepish shrug. "I thought we could handle it."

"You thought wrong." You sighed, your tone softening as you crossed the room. Grabbing a chair, you sat between them, your expression gentler now. "I know you're both incredibly capable. But even the best make mistakes. You're part of a team—you don't have to shoulder everything alone."

Dan Heng's gaze flickered to the floor, and Stelle's shoulders slumped slightly.

"You don’t need to push yourself to the point of breaking to prove anything," you added, standing to place a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders. "We're in this together. If something happened to either of you, we’d all feel it. And you’d feel the same if it were March, right?"

Both nodded, though they didn’t meet your gaze.

"Good. Now, promise me you’ll call for help next time."

"Promise." Stelle said, a small smile tugging at her lips. Dan Heng gave a slight nod, his stoic mask cracking just enough for you to catch the faintest hint of guilt.

Later, in the privacy of the archive, you found Dan Heng surrounded by stacks of books. He looked up as you entered, his expression as composed as ever.

"You didn't just come here to read, did you?" you asked, pulling up a chair.

"...No," he admitted after a moment, his voice quiet. "I thought I could avoid putting others at risk by keeping things to myself. I didn’t think about how that might affect the team."

You smiled softly, resting a hand on his. "Dan Heng, you're not a burden. You're not just running from your past anymore—you’re building a future with all of us. And we need you to trust us enough to let us help."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "I'll try."

Later that evening, Stelle found you in the lounge, sitting with a warm drink. She plopped down beside you, her usual confidence dimmed by something you couldn’t quite place.

"You were right," she said, uncharacteristically subdued.

"About what?" you asked, setting your drink down.

"About asking for help." She stared at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes. "I’m used to going it alone. But... it’s different with you guys. It’s like, I know you’ve got my back, and that’s scary because now I care. You know?"

You smiled, ruffling her hair like a younger sibling. "That’s not a bad thing, Stelle. Caring means you’re not just surviving anymore—you’re living."

She leaned into your side, her head on your shoulder. "Thanks, big sibling."

"Anytime," you said, wrapping an arm around her. "Just stop scaring me with the near-death experiences, okay?"

"I’ll try." she mumbled, and for now, that was enough.

(yonagi on X)

[dailydivination365]

No matter what you do, you feel the projects you've been building collapse. Regardless of the circumstances, you feel stuck. Almost like God or the universe have a vendetta against you.

Regardless, you seem full of ideas that could turn into something, but they never get past the beginning stages.

Upon further reflection, the output of work seems just too much. You can't handle it alone, and it's making progress impossible.

Fortunately, the answer is quite simple. There needs to be unification, whether that be from aspects within yourself or partnership with someone in the outside world.

This approach leads to rapid growth. Suddenly, there's a direction to follow, but it's not one that you can force.

Your favorable circumstances may lead to you being generously aided or giving generous aid to someone else. Finally, one of your projects may move forward.

However, you must sacrifice something to complete such a project and overcome the constant destruction. It may be the desire to actually complete a project.

You can be impatient in your approach. This makes progress extremely difficult because you're using too much force. A young idea cannot be subject to such force, or else it will break.

Ultimately, it's a calling to reflect on yourself. You are the reason you're not making any progress and constantly encounter disaster instead of the natural process of destruction to creation.

Look within yourself and understand your intentions. Why do you want to accomplish your goals? What makes you want to forcefully complete them so fast? These answers will lead you to a deeper understanding of yourself and finally break the cycle.

TAROT INFO:

The tower - reversed

Page of wands - reversed

8 of pentacles - reversed

2 of cups

8 of wands

6 of pentacles

The hanged man

Queen of Wands - reversed

The hermit

[indiestar]

Do I value our relationship? Certainly, everything's different.

[foreverevolvinghuman]

The Beauty of Imperfection in Human Connection

If there’s one thing I’ve learned while reflecting on life, it’s that human relationships are as paradoxical as we are. They’re beautifully messy, full of misunderstandings, quiet moments of repair, and the kind of growth that only happens when we face our imperfections together.

I’ve seen this in my own life. In my relationship with my fiancé, we’ve had our share of moments where we didn’t see eye to eye. But those challenges have taught us to listen more deeply, to find empathy even when it’s hard, and to lean into the messy work of loving each other fully. It’s not the perfect moments that have shaped us, It’s the imperfect ones that teach us who we are, who we choose to be.

This is true beyond romantic relationships. Think about friendships, family relationships, and even how we relate to ourselves. We stumble, we hurt one another, and we make mistakes. And yet, we also show up, forgive, and grow. It’s these very contradictions that make our connections so deeply human.

When I think about how this fits into everything else I’ve shared on this blog. The paradox of human nature, the heartbreak of loss, the joy of planning a wedding, I realize it all comes back to the same thing: our ability to navigate life’s contradictions. We’re flawed, yet we create beauty. We lose, but we still love. We aren’t perfect, and yet we find joy in connection.

So here’s to the messy, imperfect relationships that fill our lives. They may not always be easy, but they teach us what it means to truly love and be loved.

What do you think?

What’s one moment in a relationship romantic, platonic, or family, where imperfection led to something unexpectedly beautiful? Maybe it was a funny misunderstanding that brought laughter or a mistake that taught you something meaningful. I’d love to hear your stories or reflections! Feel free to share the little moments that make connection so deeply human.

[sunnyanddumb98]

ODE TO SOFIA

Sofia sits to my left in the office. It is big, but we crumple. That makes us close, at least in distance.

Sofia likes horror and dresses in full black. Her favorite color is pink, she hates yellow because it’s too bright, too happy, leaves no space for much else.

I really admire her. She is an enthusiast for cooking and reading, collecting figurines, and making perfect gifts: baskets with your favorite character plushie, sewn by hand. She sends you a birthday cake to your new apartment in Japan. She is considerate and remembers everything I say.

Sofia is violent. She tells the truth. Diplomacy exhausts her; she wants more. She is angry at people she has never met. She is happy when someone expresses their rage.

When I think about her, the sound of my sister’s giggles comes to mind, in the backseat of my parents’ car, listening to Mr. Jones by Sui Generis for the first time.

She likes gore and blood, but she rejects the passive violence of societal expectations. Day to day, she fears the real horrors of self-destructive, evasive methods. She is soft and sweet.

She is critical thinking skills, getting kicked out of class for laughing way too hard. The pride of growing up when no one is watching. Learning something basic as a full-grown adult, in a quiet street on a Wednesday morning. all alone.

It is the strength you need to protect your identity. It is showing your new sneakers to everyone. Forehead kisses to say goodbye to your friends. Going shopping in pajamas for fresh morning bread. It is the wonderful thing we find in the dark, hidden away from the horrors of the light and polite.

Catching a complicit smile at a funeral. The catharsis after breaking your favorite vase. Spending your last penny on a mistake. The friendship I form with my paralysis demon. A scared kid ready to attack. A tale, a hug, a cookie, and we both say good nigth.

The moment you are forgiven after screaming. Being loved after being wrong, mistaken. The comprehension only a child has: to cry over the doomed one— the serial killer and the rapist, the goner — not for their imminent death, but for prohibiting themselves a slow day, a warm afternoon in bed, tea, toast, and a good book to read.

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

You bring good to my lonely life, honestly, It's hard for me to look into your eyes, When I say that I would be nothing without your love, I feel the rush, and it's amazing.

[thewritehaven]

"I'm an unbridled river, constantly overflowing my banks and nourishing the lives of those around me. I'm unbound by boundaries, recklessly pouring out my waters until I'm drained, never pausing to replenish myself."

— alterego🪐 {M.J.}

[antonettewrites]

Ask me why I'm holding back, go on...

I want you to feel the intensity of my emotions, yet I fear you might run away.

I want to tell you that holding you felt like second nature, and letting go was against my will.

I want to tell you how I can and I will marvel at you, and looking away feels like a mistake I never want to make.

How being in your silence, gives me peace yet it also drags me into a pit of noise.

How your very presence offers the hope I've longed for and the misery I've been trying to avoid.

You are the duality that consumes my every breath.

Living in this gray area is killing me, and I'm unsure how much longer I can hold on.

How do I go on when I don't feel you pulling back, yet I can't feel you stepping forward

[aventurineswife]

WHAT IF AFTER A NIGHT OF *ahem* cuddles *ahem* with dan heng, he wakes up first and when he looks at reader he sees THE BITE MARKS AND BRUISES he left behind and he panicks a little. Internally wondering how he is gonna apologise for entering possessive dragon mode but when reader wakes, they just play it off since they love him (but do lowkey worry on how to hide them from the rest of the astral express)

“In your arms, I lose control”

Summary: After a passionate night with Dan Heng, he wakes up to see the bite marks and bruises he left on your skin. Overwhelmed with guilt and panic, he struggles to apologize for letting his possessive instincts take over. However, you brush it off with love and understanding, playfully worrying about how to hide the marks from the rest of the Astral Express crew.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Fluff, Post-Passion/Intimacy Introspection, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Vulnerability, Humor, Established Relationship.

Warnings: Mentions of Biting And Bruising (consensual, within a romantic/sexual context), Slight Angst (Dan Heng’s guilt), Suggestive Themes (non-explicit), Reader mentioned covering up marks.

It was a rare, quiet morning aboard the Astral Express. The soft hum of the train's engine filled the air, but all was still in the shared quarters. The night before had been intense—intimate—unspoken, but felt deeply. Dan Heng had always kept his emotions guarded, but with you, something shifted. He had let down his walls, and for once, let himself indulge in the connection that was more than just physical.

Now, as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, it illuminated the scene. Dan Heng was the first to stir. His eyes fluttered open, a slight tension in his chest. The warmth of your body beside him was comforting, but something tugged at the back of his mind.

He turned his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you, the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully beside him. His eyes traveled lower, and his breath caught in his throat.

The bite marks—his marks—were visible on your neck, darkened bruises on your skin. His hands had left their mark, clenching into the soft, fragile flesh of your body in his moments of passion. His heart skipped a beat, and his stomach turned. A wave of panic washed over him.

He had never intended to hurt you. It had been an impulse, a rush of emotions that had gotten the better of him. His instincts, always just beneath the surface, had taken control. The possessiveness he thought he had buried had surged like a dragon awakening, fierce and unrelenting.

"Did I...?" He whispered to himself, staring at the marks. His thoughts spiraled. He never wanted to hurt you—never wanted to leave a trace of himself on you like this. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

The guilt gnawed at him, and his mind raced with ways to apologize. What could he say? How could he fix this? You deserved so much better than a mess like him, someone whose emotions could break through his carefully constructed walls and leave their mark.

Suddenly, a soft sigh came from beside him. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light as you slowly came back to consciousness. Dan Heng quickly averted his gaze, though the panic still flickered within him.

"Morning..." Your voice was soft, laced with that familiar warmth that made his chest tighten with affection. As you stretched, your eyes caught the marks on your skin, and you froze for a moment.

"Dan Heng..." you said, your voice light and teasing, but with a hint of concern. "You really went all out last night, huh?" You gently touched the bite mark on your neck, glancing up at him with a playful smile.

Dan Heng stiffened, his face flushing a faint shade of pink. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but you placed a finger gently on his lips, silencing him.

"I don't mind," you reassured him, a fond smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "I love you, Dan Heng. You know that, right?"

His heart thudded in his chest, both relieved and overwhelmed by your words. But even as the tension began to ease, you could see the worry lingering in his eyes. He was still conflicted, still unsure about how to reconcile his own actions with his feelings for you.

"But," you continued, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "we might need to figure out how to hide these from the rest of the crew. I don’t think everyone will understand."

Dan Heng let out a sigh, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as the weight of his internal panic lifted. The tension in his body slowly dissolved as he leaned closer to you, his expression softening, though still tinted with traces of guilt.

"I’m sorry," he murmured again, his voice barely a whisper, as his hand gently brushed the marks on your skin. "I didn’t mean to be... so possessive."

You smiled warmly at him, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "You don’t have to apologize. I love you exactly the way you are."

Dan Heng's eyes softened, gratitude shining through. Still, his mind couldn't help but wander to the day ahead—how would he face the others knowing he'd left such a mark on you, physically and emotionally? But, for now, he had your understanding, and that was enough.

"Guess we'll need to be careful," you teased, lifting your head to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Maybe we can get creative with some scarves or high collars until the bruises fade."

Dan Heng chuckled, the sound low and soothing, the last remnants of his panic slipping away as he held you close. With you by his side, perhaps the weight of his past—and his instincts—would be easier to bear.

For now, he was content.

[cowboycarters]

hmmmm idk how to word this properly but why do people act like being apathetic should be the default for the outer and if you do show an emotion that shows something other than being deeply impacted, you get scolded? it’s okay to be vulnerable, even more so when it’s an interpersonal relationship. that makes you human and more relatable. acting like nothing hurts is worse

[eeshani]

Except you.

Sky is lit with the moon's soft glow,

And stars that twinkle in their show,

My soul longs for a tranquil night,

Yet my heart's turmoil is its own plight.

Please don't ask me to dance,

Or whisk me away in a wild romance,

For fear grips my heart, so true,

Except you, my fears subdue.

I've never been one for clarity,

Lost in my own world of obscurity.

My thoughts a maze, a winding thread,

Oh, my weary mind, lead where you're led.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Exposed, vulnerable, to the core.

Except you, who brings peace in the storm,

Except you, my heart's true form.

Beneath the waves or up in the sky,

I long to soar, to breathe, to fly.

Or find solace in another's embrace,

Except you, in your love's grace.

Let's not sugarcoat our parting now,

The truth, though bitter, we'll allow.

Keep it light, keep it sweet,

Except you, in my life complete.

It was good, the path we tried,

But weary feet can't always stride.

It's time to heal, to move along,

Except you, in my heart's song.

Heart's out of my chest, once more,

Pinned down, but stronger than before.

Except you, who lights my way,

Except you, in every day.

[in-tenebris-et-in-solitudine]

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I'm falling for You, Don't make me go Blue.

[grantihare]

not me being cringe and crying on main bc my mom sent me a tiktok apologizing and wishing she was a better mom to me hahaaaa

[wickedzeevyln]

POV

It’s just assumption to read what’s on your thoughts. I’m not a citizen of your mind, though the city is lit bright, I can’t read emotions in your eyes without adding verbs like ‘seem’ or ‘appear’, as in, love seems to be in your eyes. But I can always open up all of me with an intent to understand. Maybe have a feel for hints? Maybe you could pour your heart into my ears so it can course…

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Kinich with a reader who makes toys for children and saurians? Imagine one day, she decides to make Kinich a collection of saurian plushies so he won't be lonely.

A Stitch for Solitude

Summary: Kinich spends his days perched in solitude atop a tree, observing the wilds of Natlan. Despite his detached demeanor, he carries an unspoken loneliness. You, a skilled toymaker, notice his quiet yearning and craft a collection of saurian plushies to bring him warmth and connection.

Tags: Kinich x Reader, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Gift-Giving, Emotional Vulnerability, Quiet Introspection, Slow Burn Connection, Soft Moments.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over Natlan as the soft breeze rustled the leaves. Kinich sat alone on the sturdy branches of an ancient tree, gazing out over the vast, untamed landscape. His expression, as always, was unreadable, his posture calm and steady, yet there was an unmistakable solitude to him. He was content with his own company, though a part of him, deep down, could never quite escape the quiet sting of loneliness.

Despite his pragmatic nature, there were moments—rare, fleeting moments—when even Kinich couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have someone to share his solitude with. To have something more than the cold, utilitarian world he had built for himself.

As the days passed, you noticed him more often, perched high in the tree, staring into the distance. You’d often see him surrounded by the wild beauty of the mountains, yet there was something about him that felt... detached, as though he was observing the world rather than truly participating in it.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite. A weaver of stories, a creator of joy. The toys you made were renowned throughout the tribe, not only for their craftsmanship but for their charm. The children adored them, and even the saurians seemed to take interest in the playful creations you fashioned from clay, wood, and fur.

One evening, as you worked on a new set of toys for the younger ones, an idea began to take root in your mind. Kinich. The thought wouldn’t leave you. He was always alone, always distant, and yet… there was something about his quiet nature that intrigued you. Perhaps it was the way he carefully observed life around him, as though taking mental notes, even when it seemed like he wasn’t paying attention.

What if… what if you made him something? Something to remind him that he wasn’t as alone as he believed.

The next day, you set to work. You gathered materials: soft furs, durable threads, clay, and small stones to make the eyes. With each stitch, you focused on the saurians that Kinich so often hunted, each one an elegant representation of the creatures he had spent his life mastering. You created small plush versions of these fierce creatures—saurians with bared teeth, with soft, rounded bodies and bright, expressive eyes. Each one was unique, just like the animals he encountered in the wild.

Days passed, and you worked in secret, stitching and stuffing each plush until you had a small collection. When the last plush was complete, you felt a sense of accomplishment, but also a tinge of nervousness. Would Kinich like them? Would he understand the gesture?

You didn’t know what prompted you to do it—perhaps it was the way his eyes sometimes lingered on the children’s toys when they passed by, or the way he seemed to carry an unspoken weight—but you knew that this was something you needed to do.

That evening, as Kinich once again perched in his usual spot in the tree, you approached him, holding the small bundle of plushies carefully in your arms. The sunset bathed everything in a soft orange light, and the world felt quieter, as though nature itself was holding its breath.

“Kinich,” you called softly, approaching him.

He turned, his eyes briefly scanning you before settling on the bundle you carried. “What is it?” he asked, his tone as direct and to-the-point as always, though there was an undercurrent of curiosity.

You smiled, a little shy, but steady. “I made something for you.”

You climbed up beside him on the branches and carefully placed the collection of saurian plushies on the tree bark. Each one was carefully crafted—an imposing Saurian with spiked scales, a smaller, more agile one with bright eyes, and a fearsome, larger creature with a tail that curled protectively around its body.

Kinich’s eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the toys, his usual guarded expression softening just a fraction. He reached out, running his fingers over the smooth fur of one of the plushies. “For me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if the question itself caught him off guard.

You nodded, feeling your heart race. “I thought... maybe these could keep you company. You’re always out there alone, hunting, or on your travels. I thought you might like something to remind you that you don’t have to be lonely.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Kinich didn’t say anything. He merely stared at the plushies, his fingers brushing over each one with an almost reverent care. It was the most open you’d ever seen him, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than usual, the edges of it almost... vulnerable. “Why did you make these for me?” he asked, still not quite meeting your gaze.

You shrugged, though your heart felt full. “I just... thought you might like them. I thought maybe you could use something soft and warm to come home to. Something... that’s not cold or calculated. Just something that’s there for you.”

Kinich’s gaze flickered to the plushies once more, his eyes lingering on them with a softness you rarely saw. He picked one up—a small saurian with its mouth slightly open—and held it in his hand, turning it over as if examining it. “You didn’t have to,” he said, the words almost too quiet to catch.

You smiled, your voice gentle. “I wanted to.”

For a long moment, there was only the soft rustle of the wind around you. Kinich’s gaze remained fixed on the plushies, but there was something in the way he held them now—a new tenderness that wasn’t there before. Perhaps it was the weight of the gesture, or perhaps it was the realization that someone had thought of him in a way he had never expected.

Finally, he spoke again, this time with a faint, almost imperceptible smile on his lips. “Thank you, [Name].” The words were simple, but they held a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest at the acknowledgment. “You’re welcome, Kinich. I’m glad you like them.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes soft with something unspoken. “I won’t be lonely anymore,” he said quietly, as if the plushies had somehow bridged a gap he hadn’t even realized was there.

And in that moment, you realized something you hadn’t expected: Kinich wasn’t as cold and distant as he seemed. Beneath the utilitarian exterior, beneath the pragmatism and the stoic demeanor, there was a quiet longing for connection. A connection that, in his own way, he was beginning to accept.

As the night settled in and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you sat in companionable silence on the branches, the plushies between you, and for the first time, Kinich didn’t seem quite so alone.

And you, too, felt the comfort of knowing that, for once, you weren’t alone either.