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 Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2025 11:53 am
“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Lyndin diagnosed, like it was something so simple to see. “You’re trying to fit into a mold that wasn’t made for you.” He squeezed Vyn’s hand again, but even that felt inadequate. Lyndin’s fingers remained laced with Vyn’s and he rose from his seat to stand before the Commander. He pulled him up easily, gently, and wrapped his arms around him. He did not force Vyn to him but he offered a tenderness that he rarely allowed himself, or anyone. “Why do you have to be better than this? What’s wrong with this? You haven’t caused me trouble. You cry because you care. We are not on Velencya right now,” he reminded Vyn, with a heaviness to his voice that sounded like an apology. The more time they spent on Earth, the further away Velencya seemed. Earth was far from perfect, but he could appreciate things they took for granted. Freedom. Opportunity. Expression. Velenia had adapted, but to become Velencya it needed to shed ‘unnecessary’ layers. A carefully constructed falsehood, a society built on responsible repression. Built on the need to put everything above yourself, because there could be no hubris in a society that needed every moving piece to operate in a very specific role. The individuality, the needs, the emotions weren’t gone, they were just buried. It was a perfect effective society. They survived. They were happy. Just, reserved. Controlled. Here on Earth, where everything was so loud? Where there was no consistency, no structure, no routine? Where there was pressure and chaos, where the safeguards were gone? To be away from the only home you’d ever known, aware that it was dying slowly, and there was nothing you could do about it? Lyndin drew in a slow, deep breath. “Sometimes I look at you and I see a mirror of myself.”
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Posted: Sat Sep 13, 2025 5:48 pm
Vyn made no effort to resist. The opposite, in fact.
At first, as Lyndin rose, Vyn’s grip on Lyndin’s hand tightened, afraid he might have said or done something to lose Lyndin’s favor, even if Lyndin’s tone gave no indication of it. Vyn was already ashamed of himself. It made sense to him that Lyndin might be ashamed of him, too. Maybe Lyndin was better at disguising it; he was better at many things, so why should this be different? Lyndin may not have had a reason to express his disappointment while consoling Vyn. That didn’t mean he approved.
But Lyndin pulled Vyn up. Lyndin wrapped his arms around him. Initially, Vyn stiffened at the unexpected embrace. He bestowed such affections often enough that a hug was not so unfamiliar anymore, even with Lyndin, but Vyn could not recall a time in which Lyndin hugged him first.
Vyn melted within seconds. His posture loosened. He sank against Lyndin’s chest, barely supporting any of his own weight; Vyn’s feet were still planted against the ground but his legs felt like jelly. He put an ear to Lyndin’s heart and focused on the steady rise and fall of Lyndin’s chest to match his breathing.
When Vyn laughed again, the sound was softer, less distraught.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, quiet and weak, and more than a little stuffy. The words were half self-deprecating and half genuine curiosity. “You’re you. I don’t think I could ever be like you, even if I tried. You’re powerful and brilliant and proud, but still so kind. You’ve done more for us than anyone, maybe more than some of us deserve. You’re the best of us. I’m stupid and selfish and strange. I think awful things and I want too much and I never know what the right answer is to anything. I have no hope at all. I’m irrational and willful and I make terrible decisions. I haven’t accomplished anything. How can you look at me and see anything but failure?”
Vyn closed his eyes, lashes still wet with tears, but the tracks dripping down his cheeks slowed. Though he knew it wouldn’t last, that whatever comfort he took from it was only momentary, he let himself enjoy the arms around him.
Sometimes momentary relief was better than none at all.
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:56 am
Vyn weighed nothing in Lyndin’s arms. It was no effort to support him, so Lyndin held him close. The weight was easy to carry, and the effort was freely offered. He wouldn’t let Vyn fall. Lyndin didn’t rush the moment. He could have stayed like this all night, and would, if he thought Vyn might benefit from it. “Would you want to be like me?” Lyndin asked after a moment. “You can’t look at me and see flawlessness.” Maybe, once. Before they’d come to Earth. Before Lyndin had played a bad, but necessary, hand. Before he’d lost Caedus. And Cydfae. Velyria. Gavaen. Caerynn. “One does not become ‘powerful and brilliant and proud and kind’ overnight. And certainly not without making many mistakes along the way. You say such cruel things about yourself. They’re not even objectively true. But, you’re hurting. So maybe that is all you will let yourself see. I have thought those things,” or close enough, “about myself before. Some of them more recently than others. Those things fade with time. When you can weigh them against your accomplishments.” He stroked down Vyn’s back gently, soothingly. In the way he must have learned from his mother, a thousand-some years ago. “It sounds like you need a few wins, Vyn. You need to give yourself the opportunity to help see your worth.” Not just self-sabotage to justify this self-abuse. “I want you to help me with my research. We’ll find something for you to be proud of, Vyn. I don’t want you to be miserable, or hopeless. And if you are struggling to see the value in yourself, let me help you find it. Please.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:08 pm
Vyn shivered.
Touch was not a rarity; Vyn was not lacking in experience with it, but since coming to Earth it hadn’t been prevalent enough in his day to day life to seem like an ordinary occurrence. Even Aliez touched him only as much as was necessary, and they’d been friends before they’d joined the Vanguard. They hadn’t been on Earth long before Vyn had begun to think their penchant for restraint should change. He’d watched the people of Earth, had seen how free many of them were with their affections, and he’d thought—foolishly, maybe—that the Vanguard might benefit from the same, that they might be drawn closer together and thus heal the cracks which had formed between them if they divested of some of the constraints keeping them from one another.
Undertaking the task came with its own set of doubts. The more he initiated contact, the more Vyn questioned whether or not it was wanted, or if it was merely tolerated. Perhaps he was strange for it, or wrong. Perhaps his efforts achieved the opposite effect.
Touch wasn’t essential. Seldom was it urgent. Touch was a choice, not a requirement. Vyn wondered if it reflected poorly on him to need it instead of simply wanting it, that it had become a compulsion more than a curiosity. The hand down his back felt perhaps more significant than it should, warm and steady through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.
“What should I look at you and see instead?” Vyn asked.
His voice had slowed. The hectic impulse to lay bare his shortcomings had subsided once the last of them were free. Confession could be restorative; the truth, even painful ones, could be a kind of catharsis.
“All my life you’ve been what we should all aspire to. Being here hasn’t changed that. Neither has knowing you.” Weary and frail as he felt, Vyn still found enough strength to wrap his arms around Lyndin more securely, offering comfort as much as he received it. “Our circumstances might not be ideal but I could never fault you for any of it. I don’t know how anyone can.”
Blame was a choice, too.
It was easy enough for Vyn to blame himself. He knew his own mind. He knew his capabilities. He could reflect and find room for improvement. It was simple, in retrospect, to imagine what he should have done instead, to berate himself for failures others might not see. It was easy to blame others within the Vanguard, too, even if he knew it might be unfair. Vyn saw their hesitance as weakness. Their reluctance chipped away at his hope. Once, he’d had some noble idea that taking it upon himself to find Caedus would spare them the need to tarnish themselves, but the more he did so on his own the more Vyn resented what he perceived as inaction on their part.
As staunchly devoted as Vyn was, blaming Lyndin for anything seemed unimaginable. It would require such a substantial shift in his worldview Vyn wouldn’t know how to recover from it. If such a sinister thing as blame ever crept into his thoughts, they were unexpected, momentary lapses he then buried so deep within himself he would have no words for them. Vyn would rather punish himself than lay any of it on Lyndin’s shoulders.
“If I were more like you—I don’t know,” Vyn said. He tipped his tearstained face up. Close like this, the angle wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but Vyn preferred it to letting go. “I’ve disgraced myself. I’ve avoided you because I knew I’d feel better if I talked to you, but I wasn’t ready to feel gracious or hopeful or content when I know how fleeting those things are. I’ve neglected my responsibilities to the Vanguard in the process, after you put your faith in me, and you haven’t reprimanded me for it. Although…” A short-lived flicker of humor eased some of the tension in Vyn’s features. “...I don’t know that I always have much fondness for research, so maybe that in itself is punishment, but… I accept it. I’m sorry. I am. I do want to help.”
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Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2025 10:28 pm
“I know,” Lyndin said gently, because he had known Vyn for many years. Not up close and personal like this, but he was familiar with all Cadets that entered the Vanguard. Lyndin could still pick him out in his memories, amongst a classroom of his peers. He remembered enough of the reports. He’d had to scrutinize everyone’s file when choosing who would join him on this mission. If he could have gone back in time, he’d have done things differently–but he wouldn’t have changed who he chose. Vyn had a place here, even if he didn’t yet know what that was Lyndin kept his arms around Vyn, heavy enough to be grounding but light enough that he wasn’t trapping the man against him. Looking down at him was not particularly comfortable, but seeing even just the hint of amusement in his face was comfort ing. “I would be very happy to have you helping me with my research. Though, I hope you won’t think it too much of a punishment. I will enjoy your company. If you still struggle to feel gracious or hopeful or content, I hope you will give me the chance to help. The next time things are getting difficult for you, I hope you will speak to me before you are so hard on yourself. Can you try to do that for me?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2025 6:45 am
Vyn’s humor dissolved as quickly as it had come. A sad frown marred his expression. His eyes, still damp with tears, lacked their usual shine. For a moment, he was so overcome by emotion he could no longer force any words out.
In the silence before Vyn found his voice, he gazed up at Lyndin and remembered again how proud he had once been to join the Vanguard, how much of an honor it had been to be selected for this mission. No matter how deeply he searched within himself, he couldn’t find it any longer. Doubt had sunk its claws in too deep, carving away at his pride until only shreds remained. He kept a stubborn grasp on loyalty to compensate, but it often felt inadequate. The awe with which he’d once viewed Lyndin had tempered—no less than before, but different now in knowing him. Their time on Earth had been nothing like Vyn once imagined. The longer they remained, the more Vyn was forced to come face to face with reality.
“I can try,” Vyn agreed, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “But I—”
Helplessly, Vyn shook his head. He didn’t know what he would have said before, if he’d let himself confide in Lyndin instead of running or fighting or laying with the first person who showed him any interest. He couldn’t have said Sir, I’ve thought of poking holes in my ears because I don’t like who I am as a person and I need something to change. Or Sir, I have too many feelings about our situation and no reliable outlet and I really think I’d like to punch someone. Certainly not Sir, I feel both repressed and out of control and I think I might benefit from more intimacy than I can find among the Vanguard.
Not that any of it seemed to have offered more than minor improvements to his overall mood. He would have humiliated himself either way. Maybe it would have been better to get it over with sooner.
There wasn’t anything to be done for it now.
“I’ll try,” he said, a little more insistently.
Shame persisted even then. Vyn lowered his gaze, then dropped his head, putting an ear back to Lyndin’s heart. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, forcing himself to relax in increments. He could stand there forever and it wouldn’t be enough. Vyn liked the weight of arms around him. He liked the stability of another body against him. He liked the sense of safety he always felt in Lyndin’s presence. He liked the affection, too, but knew not to let himself be carried away by it. A hug, however welcome, was only that.
When he couldn’t condone his own greed any longer, Vyn extricated himself from the embrace—slowly, like he had to convince himself of every inch of distance. His hands lingered, idly touching the damp spots his tears had left on Lyndin’s uniform. Vyn was reminded again how long it had been since he’d worn his own. He felt conspicuous in his Earthen clothes. His running shoes were dirty from tromping through the woods. His shorts left too much skin exposed. His t-shirt still stuck to him in spots, sticky with sweat. His hair clung to his neck, unkempt from exertion.
“Could I stay for a while, and… borrow your shower?” he asked, not shy but still uncertain. Vyn cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of the disheveled state he was in. “And maybe a shirt?”
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Posted: Sun Sep 28, 2025 6:22 am
“Please stay,” Lyndin said, with more warmth than what usually found its way into his voice. “Let me make you something to eat. I am adequate with Earth cuisine. But I have some provisions from back home, too.” There was no way that Lyndin, as aware and pristine as he kept himself, was unaware of the dampness on his uniform. He pretended not to feel it as much as he pretended not to see it, but he kept one arm loosely wrapped around Vyn’s shoulders as he stepped away. “The shower is just down the hall,” he nodded towards it but his eyes remained with Vyn. The lack of Velencian showers was out of necessity, but it was a luxury on Earth that Lyndin found himself unwilling to relinquish. Warm water, falling aplenty, had a therapeutic effect he thought might benefit Vyn now. Naturally, Lyndin wasted little, if anything at all; the shower here had been modified–as had most of the utilities and electronics. It was hard to live somewhere and not seek to improve it. And in the Dark Kingdom? It took a lot of effort to make this place feel safe. It wasn’t that Lyndin necessarily thought he deserved the comfort, but it was because he thought the rest of the Vanguard did. Though he didn’t have many visitors, there were enough–and with a doorway that linked directly from the Vanguard’s house in Destiny City to here, of course Lyndin would take care of it. Things were as welcoming as possible here, given the circumstances. “Take as long as you like. If you’d like to pick something out, the room next to it has a dresser and closet. You’re welcome to anything you’d like. I want you to be comfortable.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 28, 2025 5:23 pm
Vyn didn’t allow himself to become preoccupied with the warmth in Lyndin’s voice, no matter how great the urge to sigh and sink into the sort of silly, stupid daydreams he used to entertain as a Cadet. These days the compulsion was easily outweighed by contempt for himself. He had been immature, naive, and frivolous before. Now he was… something else. Nothing better, perhaps, but never the same again.
“I’ll eat anything,” he said, too contrite to be picky when he’d caused enough trouble already. “Thank you…”
Warmth spread over Vyn’s face—from his cheeks, where it burned hottest, out to his ears. An instinct toward bashfulness nearly kept his eyes lowered, but Vyn fought against it to raise his head. Even after years in the Vanguard, he couldn’t always calm his nerves when looking Lyndin in the eye. Vyn felt young, and foolish, and unworthy. He felt carved open, too, like Lyndin could see every harrowing thought Vyn had allowed himself to express, and further to those he hadn’t, to the ones he buried so deep they went without acknowledgement even in his own mind.
A flood of conflicting emotions stole Vyn’s breath and choked off his remaining words. Fear and affection. Guilt and gratitude. Shame and admiration. Hope, forever dwindling, and loss. Pain the likes of which he never could have imagined before leaving Velencya.
Vyn wavered, torn between the sudden urgency to clean himself up and the desire to stay right where he was. He thought he should say more but couldn’t find the words. He thought he should do something but second guessed every possibility. He thought about how terribly unfair everything seemed to be, and about his part in it, and Lyndin’s steadiness through it all.
Vyn swayed once, like he might drift closer again. Then he inhaled, straightened his posture, and with the next exhale planted his feet more firmly on the ground.
“Thank you,” he said again, voice regaining some of its own warmth even if it was still lacking in strength.
Slowly, Vyn pulled himself away.
Slowly, he turned for the hallway, each step a little more purposeful than the last, both dreading and yearning for the brief solitude of the waiting shower.
Slowly, he would try to put himself back together, piece by piece—this time with a little help.The Space Cauldron Fin! Thank you ilu!!!! crying heart
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