(Continuation of the first part)
(Also, content warning, this chapter contains ermmm violence and stuff, idk what to call it, but it's spooky)
"You think that your special one is a boy."
The sentence rang through Shrignold's head like a bell, he could feel himself grow weak. He stared up at Malcolm with wide, horror-filled eyes. How did he find out?
"I- I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered, trying to hide the tremble in his soft voice, "the only person who can determine my special one is you, and I certainly wouldn't pick my own, let alone a- a boy, that's- that's absurd."
Malcolm's expression grew sterner as he tilted his head. "I was told that you were spotted a few times with someone- perhaps, a certain lamp?" His voice sounded so venomous; he practically hissed the words that came out of his mouth.
Shrignold's heart rate picked up; he feared that it'd leap out of his chest at any given moment. "King Malcolm, I swear, he's just a friend-"
"Don't try and give me that bullshit, Shrignold," he said, glaring down at him. "Lying is only going to get you in more trouble, so you might as well fess up now."
Which, he was right. Shrignold knew that lying was futile when it came to his king. "H-He's not-" he tried to say, but immediately stopped once he saw the look he received from Malcolm. So, he decided to just tell the truth because he knew nothing else would work. Inhaling sharply, he began to speak in a soft, low voice. "I know he's a boy, but- I- I feel the same way about him that anyone would feel about their own special one, and I can't help that."
There was silence for a moment, the area went still. Either Malcolm was considering hearing him out, or he was planning on how to make the butterfly's life a living hell.
Turns out it was the second option.
Shrignold felt a sharp slap to his cheek, making him nearly tumble over. He cried out faintly, pressing a trembling hand up to the area where he was hit. Sniffling, he looked down at the ground as he waited to be lectured even more. But nothing came.
Malcolm suddenly took a fistful of his curly black hair, throwing him roughly onto the ground, eliciting another shriek from him. "Here I thought you were a role model for the other members- someone to look up to, but I was wrong, you're just a fucking fairy boy."
He whimpered shakily, his wings blanketing over his body, as if to shield himself from being hit anymore. "I-I'm sorry," he gasped out, tears welling up in his eyes.
"No, Shrignold, you're going to be sorry. You're going to be sorry that you ever dared to disobey me, do you understand?" he whispered lowly, towering over the trembling, terrified butterfly.
Shrignold stayed silent, his breathing far too erratic; if he tried to speak, he knew that he'd end up just hyperventilating. His wings hugged himself tighter once he heard Malcolm's footsteps going away from him. Where is he going? He considered running away, but he knew he'd be caught eventually.
After a few moments, he felt the same intimidating presence standing over him once again. "I know that I can't change you, Shrignold," he murmured. "But I can make sure that no man will ever look at you in such a disgustingly romantic way again, because that is /vile/, and you know that. I'm going to take away the one thing that makes you likeable- the one thing that makes you beautiful in other people's eyes."
"Wh-What are you talking about?" Shrignold sniffled, not bothering to look up at Malcolm. He kept his wings hugging around him until he suddenly felt Malcolm grab one and yank it upwards. He gasped, his wings beginning to flutter rapidly.
"What is a butterfly without its wings, Shrignold?" Malcolm uttered. "Nothing. It is just an ugly, worthless little waste of space, which is what you are and what you deserve to be."
And suddenly, Shrignold felt a sharp pain jolt throughout his body; it felt as if one of his limbs were being chopped off, and in this case, it was. He let out a high-pitched scream of agony as Malcolm used the blade that he brought back with him to slice his wing clean off. Tears rolled down his face as his heart-shaped pupils dilated. There was no blood, but he could feel himself losing consciousness because of the pain he was enduring. Another choked scream escaped his lips once he felt the other one being taken away from him.
Malcolm watched as the once-winged butterfly before him twitched and sobbed on the ground, his cold gaze piercing through him as he dropped the blade. "Let's see who will want to be your special one now," he whispered harshly. "Now I want you to get the hell out of my sight. Goodness, I can't even look at you right now," he hissed, waving him off.
Shrignold sniffled as he let out shaky sobs, trying to force himself up. His body was trembling so hard that it was difficult to even walk, let alone the pain he was feeling in the moment. He wiped his cheek with his sleeve, beginning to exit the area.
The night breeze brushed against his skin as he cried and slowly dragged himself towards the house. Though, he was in far too much pain to move anymore. He collapsed on the grass, curling up while tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. His eyes slowly closed, and soon enough, he fell unconscious.
[TIME SKIP, IT'S DAYTIME NOW]
"Shrigs-?" a familiar voice whispered. "Shrignold, wake up..."
Shrignold's eyes fluttered open as he let out a weak grunt of pain. He saw Larry standing over him; he must've come looking for him.
Larry immediately pulled him into a hug, one of his hands gently stroking the back of his head, the other hooked around his waist. "What the hell happened?" he asked quietly as he pulled back, now cupping his face with both hands.
"I- I..." Shrignold stammered, his eyes darting around to look anywhere but at Larry. "I just-..."
"Shrignold," Larry said sternly. "Who did this to you?"
He hesitated; he could always tell when Larry was upset, which was rare considering how carefree he acted most of the time. "Malcolm found out about us," he whispered weakly.
Larry went eerily silent, the only sound heard from him was his heavy, erratic breathing. Though, he tried to calm himself down, for Shrignold's sake. "Does it hurt?"
"N-Not as much, but it still hurts..." he murmured. "I'm sorry, I- I must look horrific-"
He was immediately cut off. "Horrific-? Shrigs, wings or not, you're still the most beautiful creature I've laid eyes on, don't you dare call yourself that," he whispered, going back to hugging him.
Shrignold sniffled, laying his head on Larry's chest. "Malcolm cut my wings because he said you'd never want to be around me if I didn't have any."
Larry's hold on him tightened slightly as he inhaled sharply. "Listen to me, you are never going back there, okay? I don't care about what the hell that guy says, I don't want you anywhere NEAR him."
He nodded softly, tears beginning to form in the sockets of his puffy eyes. "O-Okay," he whimpered.
"And even if you don't have your wings, that doesn't mean I'm just going to leave you. I don't care what you look like, you're always going to be my little butterfly. You are so, SO beautiful, Shrignold. Say it, repeat after me; I am beautiful." He looked down at him.
Shrignold hesitated to speak, but eventually did, "I'm beautiful," he whispered shakily.
"Hell yeah you are," Larry murmured softly, nuzzling his face into his hair, inhaling deeply. "Now let's get you back home, okay?" He hooked his arm under his legs, his other hand on his back, making sure as to not touch his severed wings as he hoisted him into a bridal style carry.
"Okay..." he mumbled and rested his head on Larry, shutting his eyes. Despite everything Malcolm said and told Shrignold, his boyfriend really did still love him even without his wings...
Maybe Larry really is his special one after all.
