[FANFIC] LIKE PINNING BUTTERFLIES (ELEVEN)
Title: Like Pinning Butterflies (Eleven)
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Tweek
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Craig Tucker is sick. And Craig Tucker is madly, irrevocably obsessed with Tweek Tweak.
Warnings: This story is NOT for those who are easily disturbed or upset. This story is intended to be very morbid and macabre and will contain subjects that most of the population find upsetting. In case you're wondering, these subjects will be along the lines of: stalking, torture, morbid/macabre love, death, suicide, rape and so on, so forth.
Notes: This was inspired/based off of 'The Horror of Our Love' by Ludo.
A/N: Remember I appreciate every little comment~ comment if you hate it, love it or just want it to end already~ Only... three more chapters left after this one! Are you excited? I know I am. x_x
Directory of Chapters
You’re a ghost love,
Nightgown flowing.
Your body blue and walking
Along the continental shelf.
---
Craig has always wanted this to be the spot. When his father beat him, he came here. When his hamster died, he came here. When his sister was hospitalized, he came here. When he first felt the thrum of his heart and heard the hollow response, he fled here. Now that it had all finally come to this point and he knew he no longer had a choice, it seemed painfully fitting that this should be the grave. A burial at sea.
Tweek’s body is still laying in the back of the truck, wrapped up neatly in a tarp to collect all the blood, to prevent a mess. Not that he cared if there was evidence, he had made it a point not to care about such a trifle. No, he just hated to see all that beautiful blood sloshing around. He much more preferred to see it all gathered at one point. One, beautiful epicenter surrounded by so much disaster that it drove the very breath from his lungs. How could anything else be so very beautiful?
He drags Tweek’s body, lays it nice and neat on the shore and sits down beside it, gazing at the stretch of water. It could go on forever, til the edge of the world, even and no one would ever no where it came to an end and where it started.
It’s been two nights since the fire, since Tweek’s rescue, since Craig died and smiled. It’s been one night since Tweek woke up, since Kyle and Stan and Kenny took their last breaths. Tonight is the third, the final.
Craig breaths in the salty air, lets it sting his open cuts with a smile. He glances to the tarp as it rustles with life, or perhaps just the breeze, and he smiles. “Soon,” he whispers to the overzealous wind, to the greedy waves lapping up eagerly onto the shore. He peels the plastic from Tweek’s face, watches those beautiful, unobtainable lips part with slow, steady breaths. He drags in another breath, releases with a sigh. And he waits.
---
Tweek remembers their “first time” with a vagueness he’d care not to tell you was fake.
Truth be told, it remains a vivid blotch on his memory, one that should fade with time but, like wine or blood, stubbornly remains.
They were freshmen in high school. Everyone was trying to find themselves, try to develop an identity that was permanent and fresh, that made them feel secure in their awkward skins. For Tweek, security was consistency, lack of change, stability. And as he watched the group of friends he had known all his life disperse, he felt terror.
The only one left had been Craig.
Craig. Always the same, boring, reliable Craig. Tweek clung to him at first chance and refused to part. Craig seemed to tolerate him just fine, Craig didn’t want to change anyways but pointed out that it might be good for Tweek to experiment - an offer that was quickly shot down. So they became loners together, their conversations were short and few, but they were best friends either way. An odd pair, but friends nonetheless.
And only now, looking back on those days, Tweek realizes only now that there were changes in stable, reliable Craig. Tiny ripples, like those of a stone cast into a still pond. Subtle changes that he maybe should have noticed earlier, that he didn’t. Or so he liked to think.
Craig began sporting bruises to school. He’d disappear for a couple of days, returned without mention of it and never brought it up. Tweek left it be. Better not to poke and prod at change, lest it inspire even more.
Then Stripe’s cage was cleaned out, empty and pushed in a corner one day. Tweek tried to bring it up, but Craig dismissed it with steely coolness that reminded Tweek, once again, that change was not a beast to be disturbed.
Then his sister was hit by a bus. Everyone heard about it. Hospitalized. Traumatized for life. Paralyzed, possibly. Brain damage, even. Huge bills that on a family on welfare couldn’t hope to pay. Craig disappeared again. By the time he came back, gossip had died down to a simmer and most people left him be. Now and then, someone would say sorry or something just as pointless, but were met with a glare.
Craig collected himself, piece by piece, glued himself together and had become indestructible, unchangeable.
Tweek never said anything and, eventually, forgot the incidents almost as soon as they happened. Even the worst rumors went ignored, never spoken of. He figured that, somehow, Craig liked it that way. Who was he to change any of that?
When the bruises became more consistent, Tweek had Craig over more often, tried to show him that he had a shoulder, if he ever cared to use it. Craig never opened up to him, but he did start talking more, sometimes about nothing, other times about everything. But never what was really on his mind.
One night, they walked to the playground. It was snowing, but Tweek showed enthusiasm for the chill and sprinted to the swings, where they sat and talked about nothing and everything forever. Driven by the damp cold in his bones, Tweek bounded over to the 7merry-go-round, leaping to begin pushing it. Craig watched and smiled as Tweek jumped aboard and held on tight to the bars, his pale face a brilliant white in the snowy moonlight, red blushes on his cheeks and nose, smiling as the playset melted and all that was left was Craig.
His laughter died down and he laid on the merry-go-round, gazing up as the snow came down, a delighted smile on his face. Craig was quiet as he came to lay down beside Tweek and in that quiet, private moonlight, they held hands for the first time.
It wasn’t until later, on the silent walk home, that Craig kissed Tweek and it wasn’t until later, when they made it to Tweek’s doorstep that Tweek kissed Craig back with a reserved shyness created from years of stable nothing.
And in that darkness, Tweek finally asked the question. “Why haven’t you talked about what’s happened with you, at home?” And in that darkness, the shadows overlapped Craig’s face, concealed the expression, his reaction and let the silence drag on for longer than necessary. Craig sighed and said only enough to scare Tweek away.
“I did it for you. You can’t handle change, you hate it.” It was disturbing to hear someone else label him, tell him what he could and couldn’t handle. “I wanted to keep you happy. So you would love me. So you wouldn’t leave.”
The next day, Tweek told Craig he was going to sit with Kyle, because Kyle was going to help him with his homework. He said the same thing for about two weeks, with varying names and actions, before the excuses finally stopped coming. When he just sat with those jerks, laughed and joked with them. He stopped answering his calls, texts, IMs. Every line of connection remained, but Tweek fell deaf to every attempt, hitting ‘ignore’ and dismissing texts and signing off anytime Craig signed on.
And, without being full aware, Tweek had turned a needy soul into a desperately dark monster. Who waited so very patiently for this to all finally add up to something, to reach the end of his journey and figure out what it all really meant.
---
Tweek wakes up when he hits the water. It’s freezing and Craig’s got him naked, pressing him into the sand. Tweek’s head is above water, so he can breath, but mostly so he can hear Craig.
“I’ve always wanted just one thing from you.” He says as a wave rocks their bodies in the turf, the scalpel plays along Tweek’s chest. “I gave up my entire life for you, after all. But I guess yours has so much more value than mine, than everyone else’s right? You couldn’t even give me a piece of it.” He shook his head, made a tiny incision on Tweek’s chest. “Now… you’ll just have to give me all of it.”
Tweek tries to catch his breath, to tell Craig that he’s sorry, that he wishes he could take it all back. But Craig is smiling as he shakes his head, leans down and whispers.
“It’s too late for change.”
Author: ienvy
Fandom: South Park
Pairing: Craig/Tweek
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Craig Tucker is sick. And Craig Tucker is madly, irrevocably obsessed with Tweek Tweak.
Warnings: This story is NOT for those who are easily disturbed or upset. This story is intended to be very morbid and macabre and will contain subjects that most of the population find upsetting. In case you're wondering, these subjects will be along the lines of: stalking, torture, morbid/macabre love, death, suicide, rape and so on, so forth.
Notes: This was inspired/based off of 'The Horror of Our Love' by Ludo.
A/N: Remember I appreciate every little comment~ comment if you hate it, love it or just want it to end already~ Only... three more chapters left after this one! Are you excited? I know I am. x_x
Directory of Chapters
You’re a ghost love,
Nightgown flowing.
Your body blue and walking
Along the continental shelf.
---
Craig has always wanted this to be the spot. When his father beat him, he came here. When his hamster died, he came here. When his sister was hospitalized, he came here. When he first felt the thrum of his heart and heard the hollow response, he fled here. Now that it had all finally come to this point and he knew he no longer had a choice, it seemed painfully fitting that this should be the grave. A burial at sea.
Tweek’s body is still laying in the back of the truck, wrapped up neatly in a tarp to collect all the blood, to prevent a mess. Not that he cared if there was evidence, he had made it a point not to care about such a trifle. No, he just hated to see all that beautiful blood sloshing around. He much more preferred to see it all gathered at one point. One, beautiful epicenter surrounded by so much disaster that it drove the very breath from his lungs. How could anything else be so very beautiful?
He drags Tweek’s body, lays it nice and neat on the shore and sits down beside it, gazing at the stretch of water. It could go on forever, til the edge of the world, even and no one would ever no where it came to an end and where it started.
It’s been two nights since the fire, since Tweek’s rescue, since Craig died and smiled. It’s been one night since Tweek woke up, since Kyle and Stan and Kenny took their last breaths. Tonight is the third, the final.
Craig breaths in the salty air, lets it sting his open cuts with a smile. He glances to the tarp as it rustles with life, or perhaps just the breeze, and he smiles. “Soon,” he whispers to the overzealous wind, to the greedy waves lapping up eagerly onto the shore. He peels the plastic from Tweek’s face, watches those beautiful, unobtainable lips part with slow, steady breaths. He drags in another breath, releases with a sigh. And he waits.
---
Tweek remembers their “first time” with a vagueness he’d care not to tell you was fake.
Truth be told, it remains a vivid blotch on his memory, one that should fade with time but, like wine or blood, stubbornly remains.
They were freshmen in high school. Everyone was trying to find themselves, try to develop an identity that was permanent and fresh, that made them feel secure in their awkward skins. For Tweek, security was consistency, lack of change, stability. And as he watched the group of friends he had known all his life disperse, he felt terror.
The only one left had been Craig.
Craig. Always the same, boring, reliable Craig. Tweek clung to him at first chance and refused to part. Craig seemed to tolerate him just fine, Craig didn’t want to change anyways but pointed out that it might be good for Tweek to experiment - an offer that was quickly shot down. So they became loners together, their conversations were short and few, but they were best friends either way. An odd pair, but friends nonetheless.
And only now, looking back on those days, Tweek realizes only now that there were changes in stable, reliable Craig. Tiny ripples, like those of a stone cast into a still pond. Subtle changes that he maybe should have noticed earlier, that he didn’t. Or so he liked to think.
Craig began sporting bruises to school. He’d disappear for a couple of days, returned without mention of it and never brought it up. Tweek left it be. Better not to poke and prod at change, lest it inspire even more.
Then Stripe’s cage was cleaned out, empty and pushed in a corner one day. Tweek tried to bring it up, but Craig dismissed it with steely coolness that reminded Tweek, once again, that change was not a beast to be disturbed.
Then his sister was hit by a bus. Everyone heard about it. Hospitalized. Traumatized for life. Paralyzed, possibly. Brain damage, even. Huge bills that on a family on welfare couldn’t hope to pay. Craig disappeared again. By the time he came back, gossip had died down to a simmer and most people left him be. Now and then, someone would say sorry or something just as pointless, but were met with a glare.
Craig collected himself, piece by piece, glued himself together and had become indestructible, unchangeable.
Tweek never said anything and, eventually, forgot the incidents almost as soon as they happened. Even the worst rumors went ignored, never spoken of. He figured that, somehow, Craig liked it that way. Who was he to change any of that?
When the bruises became more consistent, Tweek had Craig over more often, tried to show him that he had a shoulder, if he ever cared to use it. Craig never opened up to him, but he did start talking more, sometimes about nothing, other times about everything. But never what was really on his mind.
One night, they walked to the playground. It was snowing, but Tweek showed enthusiasm for the chill and sprinted to the swings, where they sat and talked about nothing and everything forever. Driven by the damp cold in his bones, Tweek bounded over to the 7merry-go-round, leaping to begin pushing it. Craig watched and smiled as Tweek jumped aboard and held on tight to the bars, his pale face a brilliant white in the snowy moonlight, red blushes on his cheeks and nose, smiling as the playset melted and all that was left was Craig.
His laughter died down and he laid on the merry-go-round, gazing up as the snow came down, a delighted smile on his face. Craig was quiet as he came to lay down beside Tweek and in that quiet, private moonlight, they held hands for the first time.
It wasn’t until later, on the silent walk home, that Craig kissed Tweek and it wasn’t until later, when they made it to Tweek’s doorstep that Tweek kissed Craig back with a reserved shyness created from years of stable nothing.
And in that darkness, Tweek finally asked the question. “Why haven’t you talked about what’s happened with you, at home?” And in that darkness, the shadows overlapped Craig’s face, concealed the expression, his reaction and let the silence drag on for longer than necessary. Craig sighed and said only enough to scare Tweek away.
“I did it for you. You can’t handle change, you hate it.” It was disturbing to hear someone else label him, tell him what he could and couldn’t handle. “I wanted to keep you happy. So you would love me. So you wouldn’t leave.”
The next day, Tweek told Craig he was going to sit with Kyle, because Kyle was going to help him with his homework. He said the same thing for about two weeks, with varying names and actions, before the excuses finally stopped coming. When he just sat with those jerks, laughed and joked with them. He stopped answering his calls, texts, IMs. Every line of connection remained, but Tweek fell deaf to every attempt, hitting ‘ignore’ and dismissing texts and signing off anytime Craig signed on.
And, without being full aware, Tweek had turned a needy soul into a desperately dark monster. Who waited so very patiently for this to all finally add up to something, to reach the end of his journey and figure out what it all really meant.
---
Tweek wakes up when he hits the water. It’s freezing and Craig’s got him naked, pressing him into the sand. Tweek’s head is above water, so he can breath, but mostly so he can hear Craig.
“I’ve always wanted just one thing from you.” He says as a wave rocks their bodies in the turf, the scalpel plays along Tweek’s chest. “I gave up my entire life for you, after all. But I guess yours has so much more value than mine, than everyone else’s right? You couldn’t even give me a piece of it.” He shook his head, made a tiny incision on Tweek’s chest. “Now… you’ll just have to give me all of it.”
Tweek tries to catch his breath, to tell Craig that he’s sorry, that he wishes he could take it all back. But Craig is smiling as he shakes his head, leans down and whispers.
“It’s too late for change.”