Hello!!! If it's not too much trouble could I get a platonic post-construct broken and paranoid for the build a fic with “tell me to stay, and i will.” × devotion × “who did this to you?” (trope)? I think that could be very interesting for them specifically
Even if you don't have a great day!! I love your fics I just read like all of your Paranoid ones
(Ough they're so cute!! I love this duo so much! Thank you for the kind words, I love Paranoid so much as well, I love writing him, so I hope you enjoy this one and have a great day as well!!)
(Warning- Implied sh)
Knock knock.
"Para? Can I come in?"
A groan was his response.
Broken took that as a yes.
He quietly entered Paranoid's room, not wanting to make any loud noises and scare him off.
The room was dimly lit, curtains pulled across and obscuring the outside from view, but a candle still burned on the desk next to Paranoid's bed.
Paranoid never liked the darkness, but he also couldn't relax with the windows revealing everything he was doing in his room, so this was often what he did to help himself feel calm and safe.
But looking at Paranoid now, he clearly didn't feel that way.
He was sitting up, knees tucked under his chin, and he was hiding his face from view. Broken could hear the quick, heavy breathing coming from the other, hands clenched into fists, and that's when Broken realised that Paranoid was actually holding something.
Feathers. He was clutching feathers in his hands, the tips poking out desperately.
That was when Broken took a step closer, closing the door behind him and studying the bed closer.
Upon closer inspection, Broken saw that there were feathers all over Paranoid's bed- some broken or bent, some looking like barely feathers at all, the ends coated in a faint crimson.
Broken felt his heart swell with pain and sympathy, once his eyes drifted over to Paranoid's wings, at how messy and unkempt they looked, with some parts looking thinner than the rest of the wing.
Broken didn't know what to say, other than that he hated the sight of his dear flockmate like this.
Broken silently came closer, noticing that there were even a handful of feathers on the floor as well, and he did his best to avoid stepping on them.
Finally, Broken sat down on the edge of the bed, now able to hear Paranoid's unstable breathing better, and how it sounded like he was trying to keep it together.
"Paranoid?" Broken softly spoke up, and Paranoid flinched, but didn't respond.
"What happened to you?" Broken asked, leaning close, but Paranoid only twisted his head away from him, his shaky breath getting more intense.
"Hero asked me to come get you," Broken explained. "He said that you haven't come out since last night, and we're worried about you."
Paranoid's shoulders stiffened, and it sounded like he was waiting for Broken to continue.
Broken looked down at the circle of feathers around Paranoid, gently sweeping them aside to inch closer to the other.
"It's okay if it hurts," Broken whispered, brushing a finger over a feather, wincing at how damaged it looked. "It's okay to feel what you feel, but you won't be able to move forward like this."
Broken then heard a sharp sigh of frustration from Paranoid, as if he understood what Broken meant and hated it- and then his head shot up.
Broken's heart ached at the sight of Paranoid's face, eyes bloodshot and puffy, with the feathers around his face ragged, as if he had been furiously scratching at them with his claws.
Paranoid exhaled tiredly, looking away from Broken in shame, arms tightening around his shaking form. "It's not okay," Paranoid snapped, but there was a lack of energy and fire in his voice. "It's never okay when this happens."
Broken saw Paranoid's eyes shine with tears, and he hated the way his beloved flockmate was feeling.
This wasn't the way Paranoid should be. Paranoid should be sharp and full of fire, eyes flicking around and never letting anyone get the better of him.
Paranoid was always the first one to help someone, to make sure that they were still living and breathing okay, his fear and frustration covering up how much he cared about everyone.
This wasn't that Paranoid. This wasn't the Paranoid that Broken felt safe around, who he could lean on.
This time, it looked like Paranoid was the one who needed a shoulder to cry on.
So Broken slowly and cautiously slid his hand across the bed, making sure it was always within Paranoid's line of sight, until he gently took the other's hand.
"Who did this to you?" Broken whispered, heart swelling with concern and love for the other.
Paranoid sighed, his face falling in defeat, looking disappointed with himself, and then he used his other hand to gesture at himself and said, "I did this. There's nobody else to blame for this but me."
Broken inched closer, brushing his thumb over Paranoid's knuckles, and softly said, "Para, it's okay. You're safe."
Paranoid's eyes flicked up to Broken's face, scanning it for any hint of deceit or trick, but Broken just gave him that same patient look, and then Paranoid squeezed Broken's hand.
"I-I-" Paranoid began, "I don't know what happened. I thought I was okay. I thought everything was calm and that I could relax for once."
Paranoid shrugged. "Then I'm not sure what happened, but it was like my brain was trying to prove me wrong, to say that, 'No, this isn't right. You're being tricked right now. You need to panic, you need to get away, you need to run away from everyone because they're about to kill you.'
Paranoid paused to suck in a big gulp of air, trembling slightly, and Broken squeezed his hand to help ground and reassure him.
After a few minutes, Paranoid took a long breath in, and continued without looking Broken in the eye, "S-So that was when I knew I needed to do something, and I-"
Paranoid trailed off, bringing his other hand up, slowly unfurling his fingers, the messy and bent feathers laying in his palm.
"You ripped your feathers out," Broken finished, and Paranoid chuckled bitterly.
"I just wanted to stop spiralling, and the pain was the only thing that I could think of."
Broken watched as Paranoid shook his head, tears pooling in his eyes, voice shaking as he said, "B-But once I started, I couldn't stop. I just kept ripping and ripping, even if it hurt so much. I just knew it was better than my own thoughts-"
Paranoid suddenly broke down in tears, quietly crying and curling in on himself, and there was nothing that Broken hated more to see.
He instantly moved closer to Paranoid, sitting right in front of him, gently rubbing up and down his arms, wondering how sensitive and in pain his wings and back were in.
As much as sympathy and shock were running through Broken, there was something far stronger stirring within him, one that was the main driving force in his heart to protect Paranoid right now.
Devotion.
Love and pure devotion were what was pushing Broken to step up, to be strong for someone who was in a type of pain that Broken was all too familiar with. Broken wouldn't let his flockmate be consumed the same way he had once been.
Broken cupped Paranoid's face, softly wiping away tears while directing Paranoid to look at him.
"Tell me how to help you," Broken whispered. "Tell me how to help you with this pain. Tell me to stay, and I will. Tell me to get you medicine and I'll make it myself. Just tell me how to take this suffering away from you, because I can't bear to see you hurting like this."
Paranoid's crying got quieter, and his eyes focused solely on Broken, as if just his presence was enough to soothe him.
Broken made a low coo in his throat as Paranoid nuzzled into his palms, wings relaxing behind him.
They could deal with that later. They could easily start over again. Broken's had to do it many times, and he knew Paranoid would be strong enough for it.
Paranoid's breath hitched, and when Broken gazed at him, he saw that the shame and anger at himself had been replaced with just- exhaustion.
Paranoid's voice was hushed and almost fragile, as he sheepishly whispered, "Can you just stay here with me? I don't want to be alone right now."
Broken smiled and brushed a thumb underneath one of Paranoid's bloodshot eyes and said, "Of course, Para."
Broken was forever gentle with Paranoid as he slowly guided him down against the pillows and blankets, mindful of his wings and turning him on his side.
He quickly swept away any feathers from sight. Paranoid didn't deserve to be thinking of them right now.
Broken picked up a blanket, and gently laid it over both of them, laying down across from the other and never straying too far. He could feel Paranoid's nervous eyes on him the entire time.
As Broken got situated, he let a sigh out, and smiled warmly at Paranoid, happy to see him more relaxed, eyelids already struggling to remain open.
"Thank you, Broken," Paranoid whispered, drifting off to what would hopefully be a peaceful sleep. Broken would still be by his side if it wasn't.
"Sweet dreams, Para," Broken whispered, taking his hand in his, determined to chase away any pain or fear that clung to the other.
Broken would help Paranoid through this struggle. He wouldn't rest until Paranoid was free with a smile on his face, or even with a snippy remark to make. Broken was devoted to helping Paranoid, no matter.
Because once upon a time, Paranoid had helped Broken through the exact same thing.
There is a phenomenon to be discovered about Heroes and Villains. There is black, there is white, and the flashing lights and lasers are not all cracked up to be.
In the world of heroes and villains, bloodshed is non-existent and destruction of buildings, land and homes are merely confetti to make the battle look good, like covering a pastry in sprinkles in hopes the consumer wouldn’t notice how moldy it truly is.
In truth, bloodshed and destruction are none of what the stories made it out to be. Bloodshed is a cruel awakening of what warfare is, and destruction is the pain that comes after.
Bloodshed and destruction are a consequence of these glorified battles.And no one mentions it, too blind by the sprinkle’s deception to notice the mold on their tongues.
However, showering glitter over a battlefield won’t bring back the lives lost.
All it does is make the blood look a little prettier.
More of the Heartful AU as I've been dubbing it, pretty much an entire potential character and redemption arc for Caine where he's brought back from being deleted and he's no longer in charge of, well, anything really except for his own actions.
And it begins with Pomni sucker punching a heart she conjured into his chest. (Though no one except for really Kinger knows that it's nothing more than a placebo)
When the humans are building a world for themselves in the ruins of another, he has to build himself up from nothing. He wasn't coded to be empathetic or genuine, or to even love himself... But doesn't stop him from learning how to.
There is a phenomenon to be discovered about Heroes and Villains. There is black, there is white, and the flashing lights and lasers are not all cracked up to be.
In the world of heroes and villains, bloodshed is non-existent and destruction of buildings, land and homes are merely confetti to make the battle look good, like covering a pastry in sprinkles in hopes the consumer wouldn’t notice how moldy it truly is.
In truth, bloodshed and destruction are none of what the stories made it out to be. Bloodshed is a cruel awakening of what warfare is, and destruction is the pain that comes after.
Bloodshed and destruction are a consequence of these glorified battles.And no one mentions it, too blind by the sprinkle’s deception to notice the mold on their tongues.
However, showering glitter over a battlefield won’t bring back the lives lost.
All it does is make the blood look a little prettier.