Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why couldn’t they understand?

All Warren tried to do was help others. Despite never having any real friends himself, he happily dedicated his life to improving other’s friendships. They had no respect for him, no respect for his passion! He’s always been wrong in his approach, no matter what. He could never tell what people wanted.
He sat by himself in his forest ditch, the one place that he seemed to ever be welcome in. He could never figure out what was so wrong with him where everyone else seemed to get along in life so easily. He taught himself how to have friends, like everyone else had, yet he was always excluded. No one thought his advice or teachings were useful. What was he doing wrong?...

Maybe… it was his fault. Maybe Warren really was just delusional, that maybe he really is destined for nothing. Maybe he should accept his fate. Alone.

“It really is unfair, isn’t it?”

Like a call from the heavens came a voice from above the sullen worm, so sweet that Warren wondered if it was really for him at all. Looking up to see who was in front of him, he slowed. His breath hitched from where it was in his throat, feeling his face grow red as he saw who it was that called for him.

A pair of gently fluttering wings shone sunbeams of different shades- yellow, sky blue, pink, and a deep purple- like stained glass. Nestled in between them was a short man in all black floating gracefully by those scaled wings: tubby, with powdered blue skin and shining golden eyes, perfectly poofy black hair crowned by a pair of antennae, and a small pencil mustache above a concerned, rosy-cheeked frown.
Unmistakably a royal butterfly.

The butterfly softly landed in front of Warren -it almost looked like the grass around him grew an inch taller to reach him. Warren quickly scooted backwards, grabbing his open backpack and spilling out some extra pens he had collected. The other bug’s frown lifted slightly as Warren scrambled to stuff the spilled contents back inside his bag.

“I’m quite sorry if I startled you, friend! I could tell that you were troubled by something and couldn’t help myself but to come over and help.”

…Friend? Warren didn’t think that he had ever had that word used for him before, much less at just a first glance… His chest slightly warmed at that word, at how genuinely kind this stranger seemed to be acting towards him.
He yelped slightly as he suddenly remembered that his prince stood mere inches away from him, quickly straightening out his posture and pulling his ragged backpack in front of him.

“Sir... Sir Butterfly, Malcolm’s Court... Aye...?” Warren shakily recited the lines he had learned so long ago, in the case that any of his elementary school class were to ever meet one of the godly royals. Pretty useless, as practically no bugs besides flighteds were ever able to even see what one looked like in their lifetime.
Yet here he was. Stood right in front of an earth-bug, a damn worm.

“Oh my, so you are an insect… dear me, that’s what I was worried about. But I think that it’s ok today.”
The butterfly softly kneeled down on the grass, letting his beautiful wings gently close. Warren, shellshocked, couldn’t move or speak or breathe- was he dreaming? The air around them now smelled of soft cinnamon and honey, and Warren strangely felt himself slightly relax.

“My name is simply Shrignold. Now, I'm sure that you're quite shocked, right?” Warren shakily nodded his head, slowly moving his eyes up to meet the butterfly’s. As he did, the worm suddenly felt a rush- something warm that electrified his spine. He couldn’t look away, mesmerized by the butterfly seemingly shimmering in the afternoon sun.
“Please don't be nervous, friend! What is your name now?” Shrignold softly asked. Warren’s shaking came to a slow tremble, feeling his anxiety melt off him in plates.
“I have… a business card, if you'd like.”
Warren shifted around in his bag as Shrignold patiently watched him. He handed it over, still trembling slightly, and jumped as Shrignold’s gloved hand brushed his own.

“Warren the Eagle, Friendship Expert,” the prince read out with a smile. A smile so lovely that Warren’s heart skipped one beat, then another. He expected the usual confused “Eagle?” or the mockery or the laughter. But none came- just the smile, and a compliment; “My, what a sweet name! Positively perfect for you, I may add.”
He handed back the crinkled card to the shocked Warren, eyes completely glued to Shrignold.

“It really does make you sad, doesn’t it? How much hatred there is in the world.”
Warren was broken out of his trance as the butterfly spoke again.
“I... suppose so. Uh- yeah, you could say that.” Warren fumbled in reply. He swore that he could feel the soft compassion radiating from Shrignold, so calm and inviting.

“You and I seem similar, Mr. Warren,” The worm jumped at the sound of his name.
“Do we... really?”
“Quite so, yes! You are a mentor of friendship, as said on your little card. What a lovely cause! You’re quite special, aren’t you?”
The worm’s face grew red hot as he blinked hard a few times. “Me?” he meekly replied.
Shrignold giggled, a quite silly one at that. “Well, who else, dear friend? I myself am a prince of love. And you seem to be very well-informed as well! You’re quite impressive, Mr. Warren Eagle.”
Warren’s whole body flared with the sincerity of his words and compliments. Was the air around them suddenly... pink? A sparkling mist gathered around their feet, but Warren took no care.

Shrignold suddenly turned his head to the side, covering his mouth with a daintily gloved hand.
“Is… is something wrong?” Warren, concerned and confused, caught a look at the sky: still sunset, but with stars now painted across.

Shrignold then turned back, smiling wider than ever and softly laughing.
“No, no, friend, I’m just so excited to have met you! I rarely meet any subject of mine, much less someone so passionate about love, as you seem to be.”

Warren couldn’t keep bottled up anymore. He quickly put his head down as he started nervously laughing, an instinctual way to calm himself down when overwhelmed. He couldn’t process all this happening, all this warmth and light suddenly flowing through him. Was this... love, maybe?
“Sa-sorry, really, I just- ah, - I’ve really never had someone- come up and be so nice to me, aha…” Warren couldn’t keep himself from confessing.

“Lonely, aren’t you?”
The worm looked back up to Shrignold, who now gazed at him with soft sympathy.

And suddenly, it all broke. Warren felt like he was so small, a squirming, wriggling mess. He just wanted someone to love him. He just needed someone to look at him without disgust or anger. He had never felt so understood, so valued, so loved, then when this stranger Shrignold spoke to him, even after just a few minutes. So quickly had Warren fallen, as quickly as Shrignold had considered him a friend.
All Warren could manage was a weak little whimper of a “yes...,” to which Shrignold quietly “aww ’ed” and fluttered his wings. Scales like flakes of silver and gold fell from them, falling onto the now cloud-like pink ground around them.

“What a shame, that you’ve been friendless for so long… a loving eagle like you, no less!” Shrignold lamented.
Warren felt himself melting even more, arms falling to his sides like they were made of string. More whimpering, then Shrignold’s soft hand brushing against his face, flicking away a tear that Warren wasn’t aware of.

He couldn't help but feel pathetic like this, heart completely glued to every word the prince was saying and completely immobilized by the slightest gentle touch of his. A sunshiny bliss filled him every time he remembered Shrignold’s golden-eyed gaze set on him. It seemed like the butterfly could look straight through him and into his very soul.

“Mr. Warren?”
Warren was broken out of his daze upon hearing Shrignold’s sweet voice calling for him. He immediately scooted up closer to the butterfly, causing wisps of pink clouds to unsettle and float like smoke around him.

“I have a proposal for you, Mr. Warren!” Shrignold chided as Warren stared up at him with his ringed bug-like eyes, like a dog awaiting a treat. “You know all about love, yes, but did you ever think about what it would look like?”

Warren shook his head with a small whimpering “no..” as Shrignold continued. “Well see, Warren, I am quite special. I’m not just able to emotionally feel the concept of love, but can see and physically feel it too!
“Now, I trust you quite a lot already, Mr. Warren...” the butterfly silently giggled at Warren’s whimper of glee at that statement. “...Would you like to try for a second?” Shrignold held out his gloved hands, beckoning for Warren to join together.

“Wha-what do you even really… mean by that?” Warren nervously asked.
“Well, you will just have to hold my hands and see, silly!”

Though unsure about what he had meant, Warren reached out for him anyway. The little earth-bug truly trusted Shrignold, past whatever his anxieties or his deeply learned defenses tried to say. He knew only goodness came from eyes and words as sweet as those, and Warren yearned for his surely soft touch.

Their hands met, and suddenly Warren could see waves of color emanate from them both. He gasped, shocked stiff by the sudden light he felt strike through him. A pure pink shone around Shrignold, so bright and warm it sent shivers down Warren’s spine, as the other’s wings lightly quivered like a moth in the freezing cold.
Never in his life had Warren felt a warmth like this. Like a dry blanket on a sopping wet freezing body, like his whole being was suddenly lit up with light. His chest felt close to exploding, hands trembling uncontrollably in Shrignold’s close grip.
Warren looked at their hands and saw his own color, a deep rose that trembled and warbled with shades of yellow and peach. In that moment he had never felt so close to anything, feelings painted onto each other for both to see- and each was filled with a deep, wonderfully genuine love.

And as soon as their hands were together, they were then apart, and the color and light was instantly sucked out of Warren’s vision. Shrignold sighed, laying his hands politely back onto his lap and letting his wings relax. “It’s always quite a struggle to get that all going correctly. I very much hope you enjoyed that experience, Mr. Warren.”

Warren slowly let his hands fall down, barely hearing what the butterfly had said. His insides felt like they were being baked, his chest about to explode. While still not breaking his gaze from Shrignold’s face, he simply nodded his head, eyes and mouth agape.

Shrignold turned his head up to the sky above, and Warren followed suit; the sun was barely present, now replaced with endless stars on a deep purple and blue canvas.
“Oh dear, it’s late for me…” Shrignold and Warren’s eyes met, the butterfly’s dainty mouth turning to a frown. “I’m very sorry to leave, good friend, but I must head home now. But I’d be more than happy to meet you again!”

“Wh-what??” Warren scrambled to touch Shrignold again, just a brush, but the prince was already off the ground and fluttering in air again. Warren tried to call out, but nothing left his mouth. The light and warmth was sucked out of him as Shrignold flew further, until Warren couldn't see him shimmering anymore.
The clouds around him were solid ground again, the sky now bleaker. The warmth was completely gone, save for a deep light inside of Warren.

He was alone again. But with some sort of a friend now. Warren stared at his hands, shaky and still warm from the butterfly’s comforting touch. He brought them close to his chest, feeling his heart beating on his ribcage.
Love… for the first time, he felt love.

Chapter Text

All that Warren could see was red. He stood in the back alley of the “O.K. Stop” building staring at the metal door he had just slammed closed. Five years, gone just like that. His hand gripped on to the backpack he stuffed full of his belongings, never to be sitting on his lovely desk by the window again.
Rage suddenly consumed him. Without thinking twice, he threw his backpack as hard as he could onto the dull concrete next to him and started stomping down the large pile of trash bags that lined the alleyway.

It just wasn’t fair. It was so stupid, so stupid, so stupid, so stupid!

He repeated this over and over in his head as he continued to beat down the pile of bags, until he lost his footing and slipped down onto the wall in front of him. There he let himself slowly sink down, holding the sides of his head to keep his hands from jerking about. He could feel how much he shook, like he was freezing cold. His self control was gone, barely noticing himself angrily whimpering and laughing as he sunk further into the garbage. Right where he belonged now. He bit his lip with his misshapen teeth, hard, as tears started to slowly flood out of him. How in god’s name did this happen? He bet it was stupid fucking Beth, or any of the other good-for-nothing’s in his faction.

Well.. it wasn't his anymore.

This caused even more floodworks, and louder laughter. His throat felt like it was caving in from squawking so much, his stomach now lurching with anger. And fear. What was he to do now? What would his mother think?

What would his step-father think?

He couldn’t handle it. He slammed his palms into the brick wall, screamed loud enough for someone to hear, anything to get rid of this smoothie of anxiety and rage overflowing him. God, why did he have to think about that again. He felt so small again, so pathetic and wriggling like a dying slug. He sobbed more, not even anxiously laughing any more.
He put his whole life into this company. All he ever wanted to do was to help people… but he gets treated like he’s hurting them. He replayed what his boss had spit at him just minutes earlier.

“You make everyone uncomfortable, Warren.”

“You’re really not a good fit for this company, as much as I think you’re a funny guy.”

Worthless. He felt so utterly worthless, sat there sobbing and shaking on a pile of garbage. He was worthless to the company he put his life into, his ideas and himself were useless to others, and he was absolutely useless to himself.

He sat by himself in that cold, dark alley for god-knows how long. He stopped crying long ago, and now was just hunched over and trembling. He hated himself so much, really. Of course it was his fault. It always was, wasn’t it? He could never do anything the right way. Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid…

“Mr. Warren! What on earth are you doing back here?”

Warren jolted his head up at the sound of a familiar voice, brushing back the stringy pink hair out of his eyes.
It was him. The lovely angel that he had met before stood over him, but this time in more bright clothes; a soft white turtleneck sweater under a velvet-red suit jacket, with the same black pants and wonderfully polished shoes. His golden eyes shone with concern down at the poor worm, and that same warm feeling washed over Warren again.

Warren quickly scrambled off of the trash onto his feet to face Shrignold, almost falling over from how sore his right leg was. He merely whimpered, eyes filling up with tears as Shrignold outstretched his arms to him. Warren collapsed into him as his legs lost all strength, the beautiful butterfly letting out a surprised “Oh!”
Warren’s heart nearly exploded from how comfortable and warm he felt being held by the prince. Warren desperately hugged harder, feeling himself start to sob again. Shrignold’s embrace was so soft and firm that Warren felt like he would never be able to separate. The caring prince softly cooed into his ear that it was going to be ok as Warren just cried harder, losing his breath entirely more than once. The prince just kept holding him and softly rubbing his back.

Eventually the tears stopped flowing, with just whimpers remaining of Warren’s strength.
“Whatever happened to you, sweetheart?” Shrignold’s concerned words flowed like honey through Warren's ear, and he felt his trembling start to slow.

“I… missed you…” was all that Warren was able to croak out. Shrignold loosened his hug to bring Warren’s face in front of his, causing the worm to momentarily panic at being severed from the butterfly’s body.
“But what is the matter, Warren?”
Warren was back in that marshmallow-sticky trance like before. “I… lost... lost my job. ‘M favorite job.” He didn’t have the energy anymore to be embarrassed. He just wanted to sink deeper into Shrignold, so deep he never has to come back out and face the cold again.

Shrignold sighed, letting Warren once again fall onto his chest.
“Well you’re lucky I was in the neighborhood, Mr. Warren. Even if it isn’t the most ideal situation to meet again.” He softly giggled as he gently stroked Warren’s back, lulling him farther into comforted bliss. His jacket was so soft, and it smelled of vanilla and cashmere and all sorts of lovely sweets.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Warren drew himself back up and away from Shrignolds embrace, though still keeping his shaky, scrawny hands on the butterfly’s velvet sleeves. Warren’s heart suddenly dropped.

“Your wings…”
Shrignold’s pointed ears twitched before laughing, bell-like and giggly. “Silly, they're just folded up right now! I can’t go around letting everyone know that I’m a butterfly, now can I?” He took hold of Warren’s slippery cheeks with his hands, causing the worm to flinch before another wave of euphoria washed over him. All that Warren could manage was a mucusy “uh-huh…”

Shrignold once again pulled away, handing Warren his overstuffed backpack before taking a hand in his. “Now, let’s get out of this dank place and somewhere nicer, ok?” he suggested, to which Warren merely nodded, dragging his backpack by its top hook as Shrignold led the way.

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Warren stared down at his backpack, now sat in his lap on a park bench away from all the others. He nervously played with the fringed ends of the straps, occasionally stealing glances at the beam of sunlight that was Shrignold sitting next to him. He really didn’t really know how to make conversation with the prince, but he seemed to be waiting for Warren to speak. He never did.
Eventually Shrignold uncrossed his legs, turning to face Warren. “Hello, Mr. Warren! I had a day away from my duties today and decided to come down to the Earthlet area of town, thinking I could perhaps run into you again.”

Warren looked up at Shrignold’s chubby cheeked smile in surprise. “What, for… for me?” he quietly asked. He didn’t ever expect Shrignold to come back. Warren had assumed he was some sort of lucid dream, or a lonely hallucination. But somehow, the butterfly prince was indeed real, and even wanted to be around Warren. He couldn’t remember the last time that anyone willingly looked forward to seeing him.

Shrignold giggled, causing a wave of a now familiar warmth to wash over Warren. “Silly, of course for you! I really haven’t been able to stop thinking about our conversation since we last met…” Warren noticed the prince’s ears dip down as he continued, “... and it seems that you really do need a friend, Warren.”
“Well, you’ve caught me at an… awkward time, uh… you’re quite the sweetheart, though, eh…heh…” Warren couldn’t help but let out an awkward laugh. God, this was intimidating. But the butterfly seemed to perk up at that, clasping his hands together in glee. “Oh, Warren, you charmer! I’d love to hear you talk more, since that’s what friends seem to do… right?”

Wait, was he asking Warren? “Uhmn, yes, that is what friends do, uh… you have plenty experience, no? Being loved royalty, ‘an all… hheh…”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve never had a true friend.” Shrignolds smile fell as he put his hands solemnly back onto his lap. “I have all sorts of people around me, quite nice ones, but I’ve never had anyone that could constitute as a ‘friend.’ And that’s why I was looking for you, Warren.” He turned to face the now wide-eyed worm. “I never get to meet my subjects, and the relationships I do have with those outside are… not ideal, to say the least. So I decided to take my own step and find a friend on my own. And I can’t ever ignore it when someone isn’t happy, no.”
Warren looked down at his own hands on his backpack, too embarrassed to look the butterfly in the eye.

“Well I’ve… thank you, sir, I-”
“I’m Shrignold, Warren.”
Warren hunched down even further, somehow even more mortified. “R-right, Shrignold…”
“Hey, hey, don’t be embarrassed, Warren! You’re doing wonderfully right now.”

The worm whimpered and straightened back up, feeling a soft, gooey emotion in his body. He looked over at the other’s shoe, noticing his own leg lightly bouncing in place out of anxiety. Shrignold seemed to notice too.

“It’s ok, friend, I know it’s been a long morning. But I’d like to help you out some…” He scooted closer to Warren so that their legs were touching, causing the skinny worm to feel an electric anxiety spark in his spine. The butterfly wrapped his warm, delicately gloved hand around Warren’s own sweat-penetrating one, causing their arms to tangle in each other and for Warren to almost silently yelp into a confused whimper. Before he could even process what was happening, the trembling worm felt that sweetly warm comfort burst through him. Shrignold giggled, feeling Warren immediately loosen his tension as the anxiety and negative emotion flowed out of him.

“Now, let’s get to know each other! What about you, Warren? What do you enjoy?” he asked as Warren slowly let his head fall onto the other’s comfortable shoulder.

“M-me? Well… I collect things. Like, old tvs, and computers. And VHS tapes.” Warren shifted around nervously as he talked. “I’ll, like, fix up old broken ones, or ones that’re banged up and such. An’ sell them to people who want them.”
Shrignold seemed interested, seeing Warren’s face start to relax as he continued talking.

“I’ve never used a computer before, you really seem to know your stuff, Warren! Perhaps you could teach me one day?”
Warren just nervously laughed, but not quite as stiff as before. Shrignold was interested in his hobbies… Warren smiled to himself.

“Oh, I-I’d love to! I’d be more than happy to, uh- Shrignold.” Warren smiled more, seeing the butterfly’s pointed ears flick back and forth a few times. He seemed more than happy to listen to Warren’s ramblings, which made Warren in turn overjoyed.
Shrignold suddenly tightened his grip on Warren’s hand and kicked his legs excitedly. “Oh, look, Warren! I’m learning about you! Like friends do!” he laughed. Warren laughed with him, feeling his chest squeeze with joy.

Warren couldn’t even remember what made him so upset anymore. He was just so overjoyed being with his loving new friend.