[FANFIC] Like Pinning Butterflies (Twelve)
Title: Like Pinning Butterflies (Twelve)
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:
Thanks so much to all of you who are still sticking around to see the conclusion. I promise, it will be up before you know it. There are only two chapters after this one left and both are already underway. I appreciate every comment, whether you hate it or love it. Thank you all so much.
Also! Please, tell me what pairing you'd like to see in my next story. It won't be quite as long as this and it won't be nearly as macabre. But cynical? Oh, yes.
Enjoy!
Directory of Chapters
You are a dream among the sharks,
Beautiful and terrifying
Lit and restless.
We dance in dark suspension.”
---
For as long as Craig can remember, Tweek has always been his. Has always been meant to be his. And as far as he’s concerned, Tweek had already given consent to that. That night on the merry-go-round - that had only been the tail end. Tweek could run all he wanted, Craig would only follow. And when following wore thin on his patience, he would snap one of those little twig legs.
Capture his mad little butterfly and pull it down into his net, keep him safe, preserved. Tweek had to be his. That was the only way to end the nightmare he had been living for so many years.
To escape this gray town, where nothing made sense anymore, nothing but how absolutely perfect Tweek was. The key to his escape, to his relief… and now there was just no other way.
---
What makes you happy?
An innocent enough exercise for the first class of the year. Tweek had been sitting between Kenny and Craig all through his first year of English. Kenny had snickered at the assignment, had made jokes about nearly every assignment, but had done them with his own sick perverse sense of humor.
Tweek always laughed at the jokes, even if he really didn’t think they were that funny, and looked back to his paper, wanting so badly to fill the page with all sorts of little lies, about his awesome friends and how awesome the parties were and how much fun they always had, how his life couldn’t get any fucking better.
But by the time class had ended, he had a sentence or two down. Some bullshit about going to see new movies and playing video games at Token’s house on his wide screen. Even a glance over to Kenny’s paper proved that he’d found some real things to write down, other than the teacher’s tight blouse. Things that Tweek desperately wanted for his own.
Kenny glanced up, caught his gaze and gave a sort of cocked smile. “No cheating.”
A quick, flustered glance over to Craig had proved he had done worse with the assignment than Tweek had. His paper was blank. And for some reason that empty, bare sheet of paper scared him. Hollow, empty, devoid of any sort of inkblot or trace of tangible emotions. Just… Blank.
It terrified him.
“Since you copied off of me,” Kenny’s voice dragged Tweek’s attention away from that piece of paper. Kenny was sliding his paper over to his desk, tapping his pen against it as he pretended to read it. “Hm, good, good… Sounds like a nice rounded out life you’re living, Tweek. A little too nice and round, if you know what I mean.”
Tweek was sure he didn’t know what Kenny meant. But that sly fox grin gave him a bit of a clue and his face lit up.
“You see that movie that came out last weekend?”
And, just like that, Tweek had made his first real friend. No chaotic misunderstanding, no hallucinatory gnomes, not even a competition. It was a real, honest to god friendship, formed through a little accidental stumble and a neat string of little white lies. His fate, all of their fates, were sealed and locked together the moment Tweek agreed to see that movie with Kenny and Craig turned in that blank assignment.
What makes you happy?
Tweek.
---
“Is he a very close friend?”
“The closest I have.”
“Why’s that?”
“He makes me feel alive.”
She makes a face at his answer, wrinkles her nose and jots down a little note on her clipboard. “How so?”
Craig’s lips curl into a tiny smile at the corners. He knows the answers to all her questions, knows what to say, how to say it, when to cry, when to close his eyes and sigh. He’s gotten so very good at acting.
“I enjoy being with him.”
“Do you talk to him, about some of the things we talk about?”
“No.”
Another little note. “Why not try it sometime? It would be good for you to share your feelings with them.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
She looks up, frowning. This was not the typical response. She sets her pen down quietly on the clipboard, crosses her legs and frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I would only scare him away.” He says this with a perfectly timed sigh, looking away from her pointedly and resting his cheek on his open palm. Picture perfect teenage angst sob story, ‘nobody-understands-me-I’m-alone-in-the-world’.
She smiles, understanding. “Craig, you have to learn how to trust people with these things. No one is going to hurt you.”
“Maybe not.” He says, drifting out of the conversation, mind already working its way through the scalpel, through the neat little procedure he’ll work on his closest friend to show him just how much he loves him.
She smiles. They’ve made progress.
---
Tweek couldn’t stay innocent and pure forever.
But this level of betrayal deserved more than a simple slice of their hands and a blood promise. Tweek had willingly given himself away to someone else, after all, before Craig could stop it and before Craig could make him see how much he truly needed him. All these years he’s waited to capture his little butterfly and now outside of his house, watching Kenny and Tweek stumble up the staircase, he realizes he’s too late.
His body trembles and he screams and he beats his fists against the house. Why had he waited so long? Why had he waited so long?
Kenny steps out onto the porch, searching for the noise that Tweek had not heard, sees the monster sitting there, and he does the one thing Tweek could never do for him. He invites him inside, leads him to the bathroom, where they will be secluded enough to talk.
He asks him why he’s there.
“Because I love him.”
And he covers the bathroom with Kenny’s blood.
---
“Can’t you see it?” Can’t you fucking see it?
The water obscures his vision as Craig dunks his head back beneath the surface, shaking him by the neck. He tries to gasp once or twice, gulping down cool air and freezing water. Craig’s sitting on his torso, throttling him as he asks, over and over again.
“Can’t you see it? Can’t you see it?”
Tweek wants to ask what it is. He wants to scream and kick and fight but - what’s the point anymore? Craig’s tears are mixing with the ocean and he’s getting the baptism of his life, what does it matter?
“I’ve done it all for you, always for you, everything for you and you can’t even see it.” Craig shoves his head back beneath the water and from this angle, the ripples in the water and the bloody cheek wound make it really look like he’s smiling.
Tweek inhales as he’s brought above the surface and looks to his tormenter with those dead eyes, those soulless things as Craig shakes him and begs him, “Can’t you see it?”
---
He’s damaged. Broken. Tweek’s broken, just like Craig. Their bodies drift against the waves as they’re pushed further up onto the beach. Craig is bent over on top of Tweek, still clutching his throat, though not quite as tightly, as he asks.
“Why can’t you see it?”
Tweek’s already dead.
His fingers loosen at the realization.
Tweek’s dead.
The little blonde body beneath him, with those soulless, blank, dead, horrible, empty, dull eyes stare up at him - the life has been neatly capped out, the light flicked off, the soul checked out on an extended vacation.
The wail that loosens itself from Craig’s throat isn’t intentional. He doesn’t even know it’s him when it tears from his cracked lips, when it splits the gash in his cheek even deeper.
Tweek’s already dead.
---
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:
Thanks so much to all of you who are still sticking around to see the conclusion. I promise, it will be up before you know it. There are only two chapters after this one left and both are already underway. I appreciate every comment, whether you hate it or love it. Thank you all so much.
Also! Please, tell me what pairing you'd like to see in my next story. It won't be quite as long as this and it won't be nearly as macabre. But cynical? Oh, yes.
Enjoy!
Directory of Chapters
You are a dream among the sharks,
Beautiful and terrifying
Lit and restless.
We dance in dark suspension.”
---
For as long as Craig can remember, Tweek has always been his. Has always been meant to be his. And as far as he’s concerned, Tweek had already given consent to that. That night on the merry-go-round - that had only been the tail end. Tweek could run all he wanted, Craig would only follow. And when following wore thin on his patience, he would snap one of those little twig legs.
Capture his mad little butterfly and pull it down into his net, keep him safe, preserved. Tweek had to be his. That was the only way to end the nightmare he had been living for so many years.
To escape this gray town, where nothing made sense anymore, nothing but how absolutely perfect Tweek was. The key to his escape, to his relief… and now there was just no other way.
---
What makes you happy?
An innocent enough exercise for the first class of the year. Tweek had been sitting between Kenny and Craig all through his first year of English. Kenny had snickered at the assignment, had made jokes about nearly every assignment, but had done them with his own sick perverse sense of humor.
Tweek always laughed at the jokes, even if he really didn’t think they were that funny, and looked back to his paper, wanting so badly to fill the page with all sorts of little lies, about his awesome friends and how awesome the parties were and how much fun they always had, how his life couldn’t get any fucking better.
But by the time class had ended, he had a sentence or two down. Some bullshit about going to see new movies and playing video games at Token’s house on his wide screen. Even a glance over to Kenny’s paper proved that he’d found some real things to write down, other than the teacher’s tight blouse. Things that Tweek desperately wanted for his own.
Kenny glanced up, caught his gaze and gave a sort of cocked smile. “No cheating.”
A quick, flustered glance over to Craig had proved he had done worse with the assignment than Tweek had. His paper was blank. And for some reason that empty, bare sheet of paper scared him. Hollow, empty, devoid of any sort of inkblot or trace of tangible emotions. Just… Blank.
It terrified him.
“Since you copied off of me,” Kenny’s voice dragged Tweek’s attention away from that piece of paper. Kenny was sliding his paper over to his desk, tapping his pen against it as he pretended to read it. “Hm, good, good… Sounds like a nice rounded out life you’re living, Tweek. A little too nice and round, if you know what I mean.”
Tweek was sure he didn’t know what Kenny meant. But that sly fox grin gave him a bit of a clue and his face lit up.
“You see that movie that came out last weekend?”
And, just like that, Tweek had made his first real friend. No chaotic misunderstanding, no hallucinatory gnomes, not even a competition. It was a real, honest to god friendship, formed through a little accidental stumble and a neat string of little white lies. His fate, all of their fates, were sealed and locked together the moment Tweek agreed to see that movie with Kenny and Craig turned in that blank assignment.
What makes you happy?
Tweek.
---
“Is he a very close friend?”
“The closest I have.”
“Why’s that?”
“He makes me feel alive.”
She makes a face at his answer, wrinkles her nose and jots down a little note on her clipboard. “How so?”
Craig’s lips curl into a tiny smile at the corners. He knows the answers to all her questions, knows what to say, how to say it, when to cry, when to close his eyes and sigh. He’s gotten so very good at acting.
“I enjoy being with him.”
“Do you talk to him, about some of the things we talk about?”
“No.”
Another little note. “Why not try it sometime? It would be good for you to share your feelings with them.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
She looks up, frowning. This was not the typical response. She sets her pen down quietly on the clipboard, crosses her legs and frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I would only scare him away.” He says this with a perfectly timed sigh, looking away from her pointedly and resting his cheek on his open palm. Picture perfect teenage angst sob story, ‘nobody-understands-me-I’m-alone-in-the-world’.
She smiles, understanding. “Craig, you have to learn how to trust people with these things. No one is going to hurt you.”
“Maybe not.” He says, drifting out of the conversation, mind already working its way through the scalpel, through the neat little procedure he’ll work on his closest friend to show him just how much he loves him.
She smiles. They’ve made progress.
---
Tweek couldn’t stay innocent and pure forever.
But this level of betrayal deserved more than a simple slice of their hands and a blood promise. Tweek had willingly given himself away to someone else, after all, before Craig could stop it and before Craig could make him see how much he truly needed him. All these years he’s waited to capture his little butterfly and now outside of his house, watching Kenny and Tweek stumble up the staircase, he realizes he’s too late.
His body trembles and he screams and he beats his fists against the house. Why had he waited so long? Why had he waited so long?
Kenny steps out onto the porch, searching for the noise that Tweek had not heard, sees the monster sitting there, and he does the one thing Tweek could never do for him. He invites him inside, leads him to the bathroom, where they will be secluded enough to talk.
He asks him why he’s there.
“Because I love him.”
And he covers the bathroom with Kenny’s blood.
---
“Can’t you see it?” Can’t you fucking see it?
The water obscures his vision as Craig dunks his head back beneath the surface, shaking him by the neck. He tries to gasp once or twice, gulping down cool air and freezing water. Craig’s sitting on his torso, throttling him as he asks, over and over again.
“Can’t you see it? Can’t you see it?”
Tweek wants to ask what it is. He wants to scream and kick and fight but - what’s the point anymore? Craig’s tears are mixing with the ocean and he’s getting the baptism of his life, what does it matter?
“I’ve done it all for you, always for you, everything for you and you can’t even see it.” Craig shoves his head back beneath the water and from this angle, the ripples in the water and the bloody cheek wound make it really look like he’s smiling.
Tweek inhales as he’s brought above the surface and looks to his tormenter with those dead eyes, those soulless things as Craig shakes him and begs him, “Can’t you see it?”
---
He’s damaged. Broken. Tweek’s broken, just like Craig. Their bodies drift against the waves as they’re pushed further up onto the beach. Craig is bent over on top of Tweek, still clutching his throat, though not quite as tightly, as he asks.
“Why can’t you see it?”
Tweek’s already dead.
His fingers loosen at the realization.
Tweek’s dead.
The little blonde body beneath him, with those soulless, blank, dead, horrible, empty, dull eyes stare up at him - the life has been neatly capped out, the light flicked off, the soul checked out on an extended vacation.
The wail that loosens itself from Craig’s throat isn’t intentional. He doesn’t even know it’s him when it tears from his cracked lips, when it splits the gash in his cheek even deeper.
Tweek’s already dead.
---