Tumgik
#zims height is debatable
unoriginal-and-dumb · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am doing things I AM DOING THINGS I AM!
Explanations for designs and some head canons below here :3
Infected - Asian-American Autistic ADHD aroace (😈) trans. Yknow Wybie from Coraline? Yea like that but like incredibly annoying. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a shitty mic all the time
Lampert (design by @lucid-daydreaming-art )- Autistic 🇸🇪 ja aroace (😈) funny lamp guy Robots-esque probably kinda talks like baymax honestly, I mean a bit different but yknow, the general idea
(I talk about these 2 enough it’s the others turns)
Poob - I think they are a dumb little critter. They run around and their arms flail in the wind like paper. When they try to clap is makes dog toy squeaking sounds. I don’t think they abide by the rules of physics which is why they are stupid looking ❤️ they have hammer space but it is only for weed related items. The curator of the forever weed brownie, if you will. I think they sound like X from bfb. Aroace (😈)
Pest - literally hates poob because they are small and annoying. Uhhh funky legs because I think he would have funky legs. I stole his eyes because well no real reason, but I think if he was like extra pissed you would see his eyes. Since he is like thief maxxing I do not think he would be wearing anything beyond a hoodie and sweatpants, something trying to be non-assuming I guess. He has hair I think but it is very short no way would he want to deal with that. I don’t have a voice hc for him yet. Aroace (😈)
Bive - she a freakkkkk ehhh. I think she is like freakishly tall, has funny bird legs, raggedy ass scrawny tail, and is constantly covered in hair. Her teeth are kinda just floating on her hair head, so if you punched her hard enough they would just go flying out and she would have to put them back into her head silly girl. I think she is also trans hahaahhahahahaha!!! I think she kinda sounds like ENA from dream bbq, the uhh angry side I believe. Ace (😈)
Split - I gave her dog ears because I think they are cute :) she’s probably like normal ish height Bive is just weirdly tall. She looks very nice and friendly but could probably throw a boulder at you and you will die sowyyyy. Gods most chillaxxed soldier. She gives me kind older lady feelings, even if she weren’t older. I dunno she would be like one of those people who have a comically large purse full of hard candy except it would all be banana flavored. I think she has a slower voice, HAVENT gotten an exact idea for her voice yet but she seems very calm. Ace (😈)
Pilby - I didn’t really add or change their design because I already liked it a lot. I think they are very sweet and kind looking, would make a great plush too but I guess we are not ready to talk about that (YES I am still bitter about it) I think being around them is akin to looking outside a window at an apple orchard while it’s raining a bit. I think they sound a bit like raggedy Anne, based on the creators response too. Aroace (😈)
Spud! - I honestly did not have much come to me for his design, they are just a bit of a funky feller and im not sure how I would add to it honestly. Oh but I do think that they run like an ostrich and it is very scary. Also while drawing I was debating why he had a bow and decided that Gnarpy was like CONGRATZ IN ZURVIVING THE TEZTZ and now Spud! Just has a stupid little yuor did it ribbon. Honestly no clue for voice hc… aroace (😈)
Gnarpy - had a lot of fun with xis design honestly. The redesign reminded me a lot of Stitch so I kinda just shoved that into xim. I think they act a lot like Zim. Like a lot. Probably equally as stupid. I think xis second arms are retractable, like stitch, and xe uses that as a very very shitty disguise that everyone can see right through but just don’t mention because xe seems to be having a good time. I think xe sounds like Four from BFB (the earlier episodes mostly) aroace (😈)
DRRETRO - I think that her head that we see in the game is like a projection of herself, Wagstaff Don’t Starve style. Her body would be like excruciatingly normal besides her head, too. Like go to the hospital and see a nurse, that’s just what she looks like. Very normal, it’s a bit unnerving since her head is that. She’s like those overly friendly posters in a very uncomfortable place type of feeling. She doesn’t have fur either, she’s just a weird cat doctor thing. She acts exactly like Doctor Barber from Flapjack. No voice hc, but she speaks in meows so probably just meowing. Aroace (😈)
Mark - I started thinking about tf2 and Anton blast. Anyway, he is completely made from wood other than the clothes. Beard is carved in, not sure if I got that across in the drawing though. Uh yea I don’t have much I just really like engineer. He wears flannel and a construction vest just like any good law avoiding construction worker. Definitely does not so legal things on his construction sites but does not give two shits about that and also probably would try to employ Lampert when he was younger for free workers (no im not projecting what are you talking about). How on the nose would it be to say he sounds like engineer because I just drew wooden engineer with a beard. Ace (😈)
Wallter - sorry wallter fans I had no ideas while drawing him. I dunno he’s big and he’s cement, so I kept him blocky. Urrrrr he has a can of grey stuff jingle jingle. He is the cement embodiment of that one tweet that’s like “nothing better than a glass of wine, except for maybe #men. #yep #imgay! He kinda seems like one of those lowkey scary bald gay guys who are nice but are also scary and still bald. He’s bald. No idea on voice maybe concrete sliding on asphalt for 10 hours. Ace (😈)
258 notes · View notes
short-and-ugly · 2 months
Text
WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDC ABOUT THEIR AGES THATS A WHOLE NOTHER DEBATE THAT I HAVE NO REAL PREFERENCE TO BUT SKOODGE IS NOT SHORTER THAN ZIM IN HOBO 13 THIS IS AN ANIMATION ERROR. SKOODGE IS MEANT TO BE SLIGHTLY TALLER THAN ZIM. THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ZIMS CHARACTER.
he probably looks all squeeshed because the art book has a height chart in it (presumably what the artists used for reference) and it does this shit to him
Tumblr media
horrid. wretched.
20 notes · View notes
zazzinie · 5 years
Photo
Tumblr media
super messy/lazy sketchpage lmao
15 notes · View notes
trieditathome · 2 years
Text
How to be emo: a guide by an ex emo kid who has absolutely no business making this guide ✨
(actual guide under the cut, there’s a lot of words there)
A short history of emo:
So what actually is an emo kid? The term came into use in the eighties to describe a subset of post-hardcore, called "emotive hardcore", that developed out of the punk subculture in Washington DC with bands like Rites of Spring and Embrace. The music was very emotion-focused and very honest, with singers often spilling their guts to the listeners. Although the exact origin of the word is uncertain, evidence shows that it was coined around 1985. Believe it or not, emo kids in the eighties dressed more like stereotypical nerds than like the emo kids we see in more recent years; sweater vests, bowl cuts, big thick glasses, the whole shebang. It wasn't until the 90's that we began to see emo fashion resemble what it does now, with fringes, skinny jeans, and black hoodies. It was also around this time that the first screamo bands, including but not limited to Page 99, Orchid, and Antioch Arrow, formed. A common misconception is that any music with screaming vocals is screamo, but this is false. Screamo is simply an aggressive subgenre of emotive hardcore. Screamo was often referred to as "skramz" when it first developed. Around the early 2000's, pop punk and emo pop started becoming popular with the emo subculture. Bands like Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance, and Paramore had recently formed and the emos loved it. There has been some debate over whether or not these bands actually count as emo. Personally, I believe that their earlier albums (Ex: Take This to Your Grave- Fall Out Boy, A Fever You Can't Sweat Out- Panic! at the Disco, I Gave You My Bullets- My Chemical Romance) have more of an emo sound than more reccent ones, but pop punk might be a better term for them.
The Music
Emo is very much a music based subculture. If you don't listen to the music, you aren't emo. Full stop. Of course, this doesn't mean you have to limit yourself to only emotive hardcore or screamo; if your playlist has both Rites of Spring and Taylor Swift, that doesn't make you a fake emo or a poser. It means you have a broad music taste, which is a good thing (heck, even when I was a little 13-year-old emo kid, I still listened to almost every genre under the sun.) Don't know which bands you should listen to? I got you:
80's - Rites of Spring - Embrace - Beefeater - Dag Nasty - Gray Mattter - Soulside - Moss Icon
90's - Cap'n Jazz - Sunny Day Real Estate - Texas is the Reason - The Promise Ring - Christie Front Drive - American Football - Death Cab for Cutie
2000's - Dashboard Confessional - Jimmy Eat World - Circle Takes the Square - Orchid - Thursday - You Me at Six - Hawthorne Heights
Some genres that are not emo include: - Heavy metal - Deathcore - Indie pop - Any sort of rap (Lil Peep and XXXTENTACION are not emo and too many people keep claiming that they are akdjfhalkfkajhl) - Classic Rock - Anything that isn't emotive harcore or a variant
It might also be a good idea to make accounts for sites like Last.fm or Bandcamp if you're looking to find new music. Or ask around, other emos are generally happy to reccommend music to other people.
Fashion
Ah, good old emo fashion. It still has a special place in my heart. Anyway, emo fashion is generally quite androgynous; some staples are black skinny jeans, black hoodies, band t-shirts, and skater shoes. If you want a feminine twist, pleated skirts and fishnets can spice up an outfit. Anything with spikes or chains works very well too. Chokers are popular, as are fingerless gloves, studded belts, and beanies. If you wear glasses, try wearing square-framed glasses with large rims (think nerd glasses). Stipes, checkerboard, and plaid patterns are well liked, as are edgy symbols or images, such as skulls or knives. Cartoon characters such as Hello Kitty or Invader Zim are popular too, however, this is moreso associated with scene than emo fashion. In terms of alternative styles, emo fashion is generally more toned down than say, goth or scene. Contrary to popular belief, you don't have to just wear black. Some other colors you can wear to spice up your outfits are black, red, green, blue, pink, or purple. Since punk, the predecessor to emo, was very DIY, so is emo; don't be afraid to make your own clothing or accessories, or spice up ones you already have. You could try going to the thrift store, buying some cheap clothing, and altering it to fit your own personal tastes. The only real makeup associated with emos is black eyeliner and it doesn't need to be good. Just go ham. Focus on your eyes and leave your lips nude. Otherwise you'll end up looking more goth than emo.
Hair
Hair is quite possiblty the most striking thing about an emo kid. The most common style is cut into choppy layers with a sideswept fringe. Hair is often straightened and dyed black, although this is unnecessary. Some other popular colors are red, blue, purple, and blone (woah crazy, blonde emos are real). To get the large, poofy shape, hair is backcombed and hairsprayed. It's not quite as big and colorful as scene hair, although there's no reason as to why you shouldn't do that as an emo.
Isn't this just (insert alt subculture here)?
As confusing as this can be, emo is not the same as any other alternative subculture. Each one has their own unique history and style. The differences between some popular subcultures are:
Punk
Punk is quite possibly one of the oldest, if not the oldest, alternative subculture. It developed in the UK in the 1970's. Punk bands include artists such as The Sex Pistols, Blag FLags, and The Exploited. The style was often very eccentric, and included things like leather jackets, combat boots, colorful, spiky hair, and a ridiculous amount of accessories. Above all, however, punk was a set of political beliefs, and if one did not follow those beliefs, they were often not considered punk.
Goth
Developed in the UK around the same time as emo, goth is a lot darker and spookier than emo. Some goth bands include Bauhaus, Siouxie and the Banshees, and The Sisters of Mercy. Style is often very out there, and included virtually any sort of black clothing that one could get ahold of, very large, black hair, and extreme makeup.
Scene
Although extremely similar to emo in appearance, scene has very different roots. It developed in the US from the emo subculture. Unlike their emo predecessors, however, scene was much more focused on aesthetics and had no set genre of music that they were associated with. However, some artists that were popular with scene kids were Dot Dot Line, Blood on the Dance Floor, and 3OH!3. Fashion included lots and lots of bright colors, childish accessories, and large, emo-inspired hair.
Grunge The grunge subculture developed in Seattle in the 1980's. Some prevalent grunge artists are Neil Young, Pearl Jam, and Nirvana. Many participants in the grunge subculture were working class and fashion was often thrifted and DIYed. It consisted of things like flannels, ripped jeans, and converse.
E-kid While not exactly alternative, I felt like putting it here because it's so often conflated with every other subculture in existence. E-kid fashion developed on TikTok and has no real musical influence. Artists like Lil Peep, Freddie Dredd, and Corpse Husband are popular with e-kids. There seems to be some anime influence in this fashion, as well as inspiration from preexisting subcultures. Black clothing is often worn, as well as chains, spikes, and fishnets. Hair is often cut into bangs and sometimes dyed. Hearts are often drawn on the cheeks.
Common misconceptions
As you probably already know, there's a lot of misconceptions surrounding the emo subculture, so I'd like to clear some things up:
Being emo is in no way, shape, or form about being depressed. If you feel depressed, please recieve help, this is not good.
You're allowed to wear colors other than black. You don't have to, but it is an option
Not all rock music or emotional music is emo and the term isn't subjective. You can't just decide that an artist is emo because they sing about emotional topics, just like you can't just decide that an artist is goth because they wear black. It's ridiculous.
You're not a poser if you have no idea what you're doing. The only thing you can do is your best and as long as you're actively researching the subculture and listening to the music, you can consider yourself emo.
Skinny jeans and a fringe does not a true emo make. Especially if you still live with your parents and your freedom of expression is limited. Don't concern yourself too much with looking the part. I speak from experience when I say it gets stressful.
You don't need to do all of these things to be considered emo. The only necessity is listening to the music. Don't put too much pressure on yourself to conform to a stereotype and just have fun with it. Look for inspiration on google or pinterest. You could even try to stalk old MySpace profiles if you really want to. Just go ham. If I've messed anything up, feel free to correct me (politely), you won't hurt my feelings :) Have fun
37 notes · View notes
cartoon-cass-art · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media
The only Invader Zim discourse I want, does Zim have an ass or not? I think my stands on that debate is clear 
technically it’s muscles for jumping height buuuut yeah it looks like he got cake
47 notes · View notes
irkenheretic · 4 years
Text
okay i promised id do it and im doing it: Explaining The Plot Of That AU I’m Vague About: The Post
(as i was preparing to write this i actually got my 250th follower, which slapped)
so i’m just gonna start with the simple version, which is this: it’s a rebel AU which primarily centers around the tallest, who are both defective. they give up on trying to make any meaningful changes as figureheads, and instead direct their attention to being involved with the “neo defect revolution,” or NDR. they do manage to make one change as tallest- there is a garbage dump planet turned into a sanctuary for defectives (who in this au are executed once discovered,) and eventually enough of the populace finds out about it that the tallest have to deal with it. they finesse their way into kicking it out of the empire, so now it’s its own planet with its own rules, governments, and most importantly, immigration policies and protections
a lot of stuff happens and it’s gonna be structured using arcs, and each arc has a separate protagonist/deuteragonist/tritagonist lineup (but that doesnt mean the same lineup won’t be used multiple times!) and yes the insane list of OCs are for this au alone: some arcs are very OC-centric, some have OCs as supporting characters, and a couple are all-OC or mostly-OC. 
its going to be very longform and it’ll span from the tallest’s elite training days to twenty years after zim arrives on earth. (the 20 year gap btwn zim arriving on earth and the story proper isnt as tightly plotted as later tho.) the point is to see how a revolution on the scale of the NDR works, who was fucked over by defact laws, who was fucked over by other laws, etc. theres a lot of lore and a lot of headcanons i made for this AU and even a conlang. i am a being of hubris. itll be a series of fics, some multichapter and some oneshots. 
the series as a whole is gonna be called Invader Zim: Annexed or just Annexed for short. its a pun on an irken word that sounds similar but means the exact opposite. i am not explaining more bc itll be explained in the fic itself. but thats why the tag for it is #anx lmao
i didnt mean for this to be as long as it got but under the cut im gonna breakdown some of the early arcs:
so it all starts with a fanfic called Love Is The H-Word (no the “h-word” isn’t “hell.) it centers around red and purple as elites-in-training, who do a little whoopsie and have an egg. purple doesnt wanna smuggle it into a smeetery, bc then he’ll never see it again, so they go to the defect sanctuary (still a part of the empire at this point.) purple knows he’s defective while red has a hard time accepting that he is as well, due to events from his past. but being around all these other defects are starting to wear down his denial, and the fic is all about that. it also sets up some plot stuff, like how defects adopted a self-identifier in the word “heretic,” hence the sanctuary being named, “heretirk.” (hey look my url!) (no, the “h-word” is not heretic, either.) 
i dont wanna say what happens in that fic bc spoilers, but stuff Happens. its also when we meet some ocs that end up being important, and the existence of others are foreshadowed. this is also where we meet the tallests’ future advisor, rarl kove, for the first time, as a local who decides to keep them company. purple bonds with kove due to their shared interest in politics, while red reluctantly bonds with titch, a young irken (a smeet in heretirken standards, an adult in imperial standards- did i mention he and red are roughly the same age? lol) who is interested in military stuff and thrill-seeking and general destruction. titch is pissed because he claims his father is stealthing on devastis as a military commander, but won’t let titch sneak in as a soldier, as titch is deaf. 
(fun facts: in the au, “titch” is regional slang for “a little bit.” ironically, titch the character is above-average in height.)
due to titch’s deafness, he developed “gesturespeak,” irken sign language, so he can communicate. this existing becomes important later
a oneshot called invade the system is right after h-word in publishing order. it details zim’s exploits in leaving foodcourtia, where he was assigned and infiltrating the invading academy he eventually graduates from (in this au, zim is too short to be an invader, which sucks because the hight minimums for the military are really short to begin with lmao)
the fic chronoligically after H-Word focuses on red and purple being back in their platoon on devastis, specifically red navigating his training and his relationships with two defective platoonmates, pon and zi (who are in h-word a little,) after the realization that he too is defective. it also focuses on how the irken military works, and how they train their soldiers. 
the first arc overall focuses on red and purple going thru training and such, and ends after they graduate and are on the field, working to get commander rank. (they planned to gain commander rank then leave and go back to heretirk to train an army there, as heretirk has.... no army.) in the middle of this, they’re pulled out and told they are to become the next tallest. they debate over staying and taking the job or just running to heretirk, and they ultimately decide to stay.
the next arc i call the “bridge,” tbh. its less tightly plotted than the other arcs; fics are spread apart from each other chronologically and all that. it spans the time after the tallest being appointed to a little after zim arrives on earth. it also has a couple of anthologies focusing on imperial defects- each chapter is a new character. these guys are all important and the easiest way for me to introduce their backstories without cluttering everything up is anthology style, lmao. other things that happen are a look into how the tallest work, eventually culminating with the resolution of the tallest having to Deal With Heretirk, tenn’s rescue from meekrob, and zim on earth obtaining a half-irken smeet named pip due to stealing an Unethical Science Experiment from dib (which is pip.) the bridge is basically just. “heres some stuff that happens between point A and point B so when we get to point B you’re not confused as all hell.” 
the next arc focuses on zim. in the first fic, pip is sick and zim is trying to get into his neighbor’s pants, to cope. this basically sets up that zim in this au has no idea how to find personal fulfillment in living- he’s only OK if he focuses on pleasing someone else, be it taking care of pip or doting on the neighbor, some rando human named piqu (pronounced, “peek.”) this is mainly a cute romance story with the underlying veneer of “a child is slowly and painfully dying” in the background. fun! 
without spoiling the circumstances, zim and pip end up on heretirk, which at this point is its own independent planet. pip is in the hospital for most of it so zim has to do his own thing. computer fans rejoice bc hes basically zims dad at this point, who tells him to go outside and get some fresh air and talk to the locals instead of schmooping or screaming in anxiety. im sneakily introducing more characters like ini, the “next-gen zim;” a short bio-engineer (she works on PAKs) who was constantly passed over by everyone because they dont trust someone that short or they dont trust someone that spazzy, even though shes actually brilliant. also her brother mo, who’s a pilot that NOBODY will teach military-class ships to (at this point, HTK has a population of ex-military that had their old ships, but still no formal army) because he doesnt talk and they think hes “slow” as a result. for the curious, he is physically able to talk most times, he just doesnt like it. zim ends up teaching him how to fly military-class which ends up being important laterrr
(haha ini and mo. wheres meenie and minie? ILL GET TO THEM)
no really, theyre quadruplets. named ini, myni, minie, and mo. these are real characters. 
minie isnt introduced till later. shes too cool to be the side character in someone elses arc. she is feel uncomfortable when we are not about her.
myni is busy palling around with pip and pip’s friend “elly” (real name elevenn, with two N’s.) elly is a half-meekrob War Crime Baby and tenn’s smeet. he has vision problems (he can “see” energy signatures of things, as opposed to conventional sight. everything is monochrome and he has to really focus to see like, words on a paper. also fuck tablets) but the trade-up is telekinetic powers (that he cant use too much or his brain will melt. fun!) this isnt relevant until the arc AFTER zim’s, where they end up poking around a historical site due to myni’s interest in that kind of thing, and they find logs of an old revolution (that was actually pretty successful in their goal, before they were caught and executed,) that lead them to a man named lefy. he helps with revolutions and helped these guys, and the trio go to seek him out; myni because he wants to impress his parents with helping them, pip because after they’ve recovered enough to walk around and do stuff, feel like they need to justify the choice to save their life and make their dad proud and all that, elly because he doesnt want pip to get hurt and die. And thats where the stuff REALLY starts happening and i cant tell u more sorry
this seemed kind of disjointed but thats bc i cant really be too detailed otherwise id like.... spoil it lmfao. but thats the summary of the first few arcs.
17 notes · View notes
spyroforlife · 4 years
Text
Oh no I wrote a full thing based on this post I did a while back haha enjoy some fluff that got more emotional than I expected
- - -
Dib was already ranting as he walked into Zim's base, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto a table as he crossed to the couch. “-got like three projects due within the week and end of the year tests coming up and Dad still keeps trying to get me to intern at his lab every weekend...”
“Did I fucking ask?” Zim snapped, looking up from his tablet with a scowl.
Dib just invited himself right onto the couch, flopping down and continuing to complain, “And don't even get me started on Dad nagging me about college...” He pulled his boots off and dropped them carelessly on the floor. Only when he had done that did he finally acknowledge the death glare Zim was giving him. “Call me pathetic if you want, but your place is about the only place I can go to get away from things for a while.”
“It's not my fault you decided to sign up for all AP classes for your last semester of high school,” Zim said, rolling his eyes. “Don't you fledgling humans try to take it easy during your very last year of adolescent schooling?”
“Most people do, yeah. But apparently I'm supposed to have 'higher standards' for myself.” Dib did finger quotes. “Whatever, at least it's almost done.”
“Right. Now if you don't mind, I'm working.”
Dib moved over to try and looked at his tablet, and got a boot in the face for his efforts. Zim hissed at him and Dib grabbed his ankle, shoving his foot aside. “What are you working on, huh? Let me see.”
“Get away from me, hair beast!”
They spent a few seconds wrestling for the tablet, Dib trying to grab for Zim's wrists while Zim kicked at his face and chest. Dib's superior height gave him quite the reach advantage, but Zim wasn't afraid to fight dirty. But Zim quickly noticed that Dib didn't seem to have as much energy as usual, and moments later his suspicions were confirmed as Dib yawned and took a lazy swipe for the tablet that Zim easily avoided.
“Ugh, I don't even care, your plans suck anyway...”
“What? Say that a little louder, you insolent piece of-” Zim's antennae perked as Dib slumped against him, body falling limp. “Eh? Dib-stink?” He prodded Dib's forehead and leaned him back, then realized his eyes were closed. He fell asleep?! That, or passed out. “Dib?”
There was no answer. Zim squinted in confusion, dropping an antenna to hover it next to Dib's nose. He felt air and confirmed that he was still breathing.
“You humans are so weak and pathetic,” Zim sighed, pushing Dib off himself and moving away. He looked back at his tablet, scrolling through the plan he was working on. But he kept stealing glances at his foe, expecting him to wake up any moment now, loudly huffing and making comments about humans having zero energy. And still, Dib slept.
Honestly, it was sad. Zim enjoyed their rivalry, he used to find it annoying but now he looked forward to matching wits and might with the human. He greatly respected him as an enemy and even trusted him as a friend. Well, kind of. It was complicated, but Zim did know he could rely on Dib to help him when he had no other options, and he liked spending time with the other. They've had many deep discussions in recent years and it was pleasant spending time with another intellectual. Not that Zim would ever admit that out loud.
So, rather than feel glad that Dib was quiet and nonthreatening right now, Zim found himself feeling disappointed. That hadn't been much of a fight. Nowhere near as glorious as their battles usually were. They needed to settle it properly. And to do that, Dib would need to be properly rested.
Zim set his tablet aside and picked up the remote to lower the volume on the TV. It was getting dark outside, so he asked Computer to dim the lights in the living room. Once that was done, Zim shifted closer to Dib, examining him curiously. The human looked rather peaceful, his expression calm and without the stress he so often carried these days. Zim carefully took his glasses off and put them aside, then kept gazing at his face. It was strange that Dib would leave himself vulnerable like this. But then, he didn't seem to fall asleep by choice. He really was that exhausted.
Zim's gaze traveled further. The other was laying on his side, curled up a bit, knees pulled up against his chest and head resting on an arm. It was almost... cute.
Zim growled at himself and tore his eyes away. He was not going to entertain that line of thought anymore. Of course Dib wasn't cute. He was a gross, primitive alien that was going to belong to the Irken Empire one day. Zim might even force him to be his personal slave as payback for all the trouble he's caused him. Sure, Dib was tall, and smart, and he had that delightful sharpness to his eyes and a sort of weird quirk to the corner of his lip when he smiled that was positively delightful and-
And Zim forcibly derailed that train of thought and tried to ignore how his face grew warm and tingly.
Dib groaned and shifted around, and Zim saw him shift his head off his arm, though he continued sleeping. He looked uncomfortable though, his head tilted at an odd angle. Humans generally slept with pillows. Perhaps they needed their heads elevated while sleeping, Zim reasoned. He debated over what to do next, he could easily just grab Dib's coat and fold that up to put under his head, or he could let Dib rest against him...
He sighed and added this to the long list of things his enemy would have to suffer for, and moved closer, pulling Dib's head up onto his lap. He looked ahead at the quiet TV, mumbling to himself about all the shortcomings of humanity. His attempt to distract himself from the awkward situation failed. The show was boring and his mind wandered to how nice it was having the other's weight on him, his warmth seeping through Zim's clothes, and when Zim let his right hand rest on Dib's shoulder, he felt the other gently shift in closer to him, body curling up even more.
Zim's face grew warmer and he asked himself why he was doing this. Yes, of course he wanted his enemy well-rested so they could continue fighting, but... why was he doing this specifically? Why was he letting Dib lay on him rather than just walk away and wait? What did he gain?
Comfort, a small voice whispered. This was comforting. It was domestic and tender and... it made his heart ache but felt good at the same time. He shouldn't like this. Invaders worked alone. He was trained to be a single cog in the huge machine of the Irken Empire. His loyalty was to his Tallest alone. Irken soldiers were not supposed to desire companionship. It was an unspoken taboo.
Yet here he was. On a distant, unremarkable planet an entire galaxy away from his own. Sitting on the couch with an alien creature curled up next to him, asleep and trusting. And it was nice. It felt right.
“You're pathetic,” Zim whispered to himself. He could be honest with himself when no one was around to hear. “It was bad enough when you grew attached to GIR, and to Computer and Minimoose... and now you're attached to him? Your enemy? Why? What is it about him? You shouldn't be doing this. You need to shove him off. Tell him to go sleep at home and challenge you in the morning once he's suitably recharged. Just... just push him away. Right now.”
But he didn't. He stayed there, listening to Dib's steady breathing, even starting to rub slowly along the other's shoulder. His hand slipped down past where Dib's sleeve ended, fingers glancing over skin. Dib twitched but didn't wake up, and Zim figured the feel of his glove must have surprised the other. It probably was a little cool.
Zim lifted his hand and tugged the glove off, setting it down and moving his hand back to Dib's arm. He reached out slowly, at first only letting the very pads of his fingers touch the other before pulling away. As soon as he did, he registered the warmth of Dib's skin and the softness of it. Zim moved his hand back, now resting it fully on Dib, and he closed his eyes as he savored the human's body heat. How were they so warm? Of course he had studied human vital signs and knew what their internal temperature was, but to think they were so warm even on their skin like this...
Zim's internal argument continued to rage. This was unacceptable. He was out of uniform for one, but also, his hands were sensitive and he was opening himself up to injury or disease by touching an alien lifeform without a glove!
“Disgusting, putrid, inferior creature,” he murmured as he slowly began petting Dib's arm. “How dare you give me these feelings. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't want to do this. I should throw you out the door right now.”
Dib slept on, peacefully unaware. Zim curiously moved his hand up, drifting his fingers against Dib's hair instead. He covered his mouth to muffle the shocked noise that escaped him. It was even softer than the skin! Well, perhaps it was a little messy, matted in places and definitely could be washed more often... but he still found himself fascinated with the texture, running his fingers through it over and over again. He's grabbed Dib by the hair before, yanked him around, or just ruffled it to tease him. But that was always with his gloves on. He never realized just how soft the other's hair was until now.
He decided to just stop arguing with himself. His feelings right now were new and confusing and he just didn't want to deal with it. He was going to stay in the moment, enjoying the feel of Dib's hair between his fingers and the warmth against his body, and let himself be content.
Several minutes passed. Zim relaxed more and more as he got used to this, leaning back and smiling when he felt Dib move a hand to his leg and just hold onto it, apparently enjoying their newfound peace just as much. Humans sure did move a lot during their sleep cycles, didn't they? But then he felt Dib's breathing slow further, and his antennae picked up the other's heart rate going down. Not by much, but it was notable. These were the signs of deep sleep, Zim had learned back when he first arrived. It was fascinating watching it happen naturally and not due to him drugging a human into sleep to watch the entire process on monitors. Entirely for scientific purposes of course.
This was when humans began dreaming, he knew. He wondered what Dib would dream about. Probably something weird. Dib was very imaginative and his many encounters with the supernatural probably led to some vivid dreams. Maybe Zim will ask him when he wakes up.
To Zim's surprise, Dib thrashed slightly, baring his teeth for a moment and groaning. His fingers dug against Zim's leg.
“What's wrong?” Zim asked.
Dib shook, muttering something that didn't seem to be English. It was just a garbled phrase that likely made sense only in his dream. Zim frowned. Was Dib having a nightmare? Why would he not just wake up from it, then? That's what the humans in the shows seemed to do, they would just scare themselves awake from their nightmares.
Maybe it was more difficult in real life. Should Zim wake him up then? Whatever he was seeing must be really distressing him, based on the tremors going down his back and the way he nervously kneaded at Zim's leg. Then again, if Zim woke him now, he might just get punched in the face. He's woken Dib up a few times before and the reaction was usually violent.
Zim chewed his lip as he tried to decide what to do, and while Dib's movements slowed, he kept shaking, whimpering now. Zim sighed and resumed stroking his hair, using long, slow passes that went partway down his neck before going back up to the top of his head. As he did, he began singing softly. It was an old irken lullaby that never quite went away over the generations, even as natural births declined and test tube smeets became the norm. The comforting melody persisted no matter how society changed and even now was used among friends and loved ones to soothe their worries. Zim had always liked the song but never imagined he would ever use it. But the words came easily to him nonetheless, and though Dib couldn't possibly understand the lyrics, he relaxed in response to the tune, his shaking slowing and then stopping altogether. He stopped whimpering as well, instead seeming to hum for a couple notes before falling silent.
“That's it,” Zim whispered, leaning forward and seeing that Dib's expression was peaceful again. “Those nightmares aren't real. You're safe.” He leaned back and continuing singing, closing his eyes as he did. He felt a little silly, but at least Dib could finish resting. And they could keep fighting. Because that's why he was doing this. To get Dib back into fighting shape. Yep.
It was about thirty minutes later when Dib woke up. He woke up slowly, feeling so warm and comfortable he almost didn't want to get up. Then he felt someone stroking his hair with slender fingers and heard a familiar voice singing above him.
He kept his eyes closed as he rushed to piece together where he was and what was happening. He had gone over to Zim's base to hang out just to get away from his own house for a bit. He had playfully fought with him for a while... he remembered being really tired the whole time. He must have fallen asleep.
He realized those were Zim's fingers running through his hair, unbelievably gentle and comforting. And that was Zim's voice singing in a tone softer than Dib has ever heard him use. He recognized the words as irken, and though he didn't understand them, he somehow just knew it was a lullaby. He's heard Zim swear at him before in irken, or mutter to himself, and it always seemed so harsh, but this was different. The lyrics were pronounced with trills, chirps, and purrs. He never expected to hear something so sweet from Zim. Who knew he could sing like that?
As he woke up more fully, his brain started going a thousand miles an hour. Why was Zim holding him and singing a lullaby to him? Sure, things have been better between them in recent years, but they were still enemies. Zim could have done any number of terrible things as soon as he fell asleep. He could have thrown him outside. He could have attacked him, or taken him into his lab to experiment on, he could even have seized the chance and killed him! But he didn't do any of that. They were still on the couch from what he could feel, his head was in Zim's lap, and the other's bare hand was playing with his hair.
Something about it really got to him and he found himself feeling emotional, chest tightening. He wondered if it was because he liked Zim, or if it was just that he was so lonely he would take any affectionate touch right now. Maybe it was a mix of both. He felt so safe here with the other, Zim's attention was bizarre yet very wanted and Dib found himself thinking that this was what love felt like.
And it was time to nip that in the bud. Ignoring that happy warmth in his chest, Dib opened his eyes and pushed himself up, pulling away from Zim with what he hoped was a convincing scowl. “Oh ew, I fell asleep on you? I'm out of here, I need to make sure you didn't take any of my organs.” He jumped up and Zim growled, getting to his feet as well.
Dib was partway to the door before realizing his glasses were missing and he still needed to put his boots and coat on.
“Forgetting something?” Zim asked, holding the glasses by an earpiece and giving it a wave.
Dib turned and went to grab them from him, sliding them on and then rushing through putting on his boots and coat, all while Zim teased him.
“Haha, so pathetic that you fell asleep mid battle, but now we can continue!”
“We could... or I could just go home, your lullaby really helped get rid of my stress. Thanks for that!” Dib grinned and ran for the door, swinging it open.
“Wha- hey! What lullaby?” Zim shouted. When Dib ran outside, Zim let out an irken swear and chased after him, hastily pulling his glove back on. “Get back here and fight me!”
“You gotta catch me first, bug!” Dib called over his shoulder. He couldn't help but laugh at the way the other glared at him. “And you might wanna put on your disguise if you're going to follow me.”
Zim let out a yelp and quickly ran back into the house to get his disguise. When he ran back after Dib, he was laughing, and Dib laughed too. “You're going to suffer greatly when I catch you, Earth-filth!”
“If you catch me, cicada!”
Dib may not know exactly why Zim chose to hold him throughout his nap and sing to him, but he felt like in some small way, they had bonded just a little more while he slept. And judging from the way Zim was smiling at him, he felt the same.
55 notes · View notes
curiousdibandbeyond · 4 years
Text
ZADR Revival Week Final Day
@zadr-revival
The theme for today is Procrastination Gauntlet!! I’ve been putting off posting this ZADR fic and today is the day I start it! It’s called Take Another Step and I spent way too long on the first chapter lol
You can find it on ff.net here
or on AO3 here
Had a blast with this ZADR week--first time I’ve participated in a shipping week event and I had fun!
If you want to read it here, I’m putting it under a read more!
Part 1: Are You Okay?
Dib shook his nerves out once more. He had spotted Zim on his way out of the school in the throng of students leaving en masse. He had turned down the wrong street to go home—an oddity that Dib hadn’t missed, and Gaz had groaned about when he pointed it out. Dib figured it was better to get in a fight with Zim than be beaten to a pulp by her. Zim at least would leave him able to wobble home; he wasn’t so sure when it came to Gaz. He only knew she had the hospital on speed dial.
As it stood, Zim hadn’t noticed him yet and Dib intended to keep it that way. He ducked behind bushes and fence posts and trees—anything and everything he could use for cover. With his still small frame, that was easier to do. It was hampered a little by his height. Dib hated to crouch, but years of doing so in the bushes outside Zim’s base had made him adept at doing so in a second behind whatever cover he might have. Dib began to notice that they’d started getting near the park, where the neighborhoods stated to thin out. Zim stopped at the park gate and whipped around, catching Dib in his sights before Dib could duck behind anything. Dib pretended, for his own sanity, that it didn’t just look like Zim’s head had done a near perfect 180 like an owl.
They stood staring at one another in a standoff. Dib was running rapid fire through all his options. He didn’t have a lot. He could come clean and admit he had been following Zim; or pretend he hadn’t been and look like a moron and an obvious liar. He also started to think about all the ways he could dodge Zim’s claws. To his surprise, Zim never made a move against him. He only glared.
A glare that was an assault on its own. Dib felt a bead of sweat drop off his temple.
“Um—”
“You are terrible at stealth,” Zim says. Dib stammers; caught up in the offense of the statement.
“I am not!” he shouts, taking a step forward before stopping himself. He really couldn’t get within range of Zim’s claws. He knew better than that. Zim gave him a look. A Look that said ‘you are a liar’. “…I’m NOT.”
“Perhaps to other humans. I could hear you loud and clear once the noise of the school fell away,” Zim says, waving him off as he turned back around.
Dib blanched at him, starting to follow, but making sure that he kept a good distance the entire walk. It wasn’t particularly unusual that Zim blew him off like that, but it had been a while since the last time Zim had been bold enough to turn his back on Dib without checking somehow to be sure Dib wasn’t hiding a weapon in his pockets. Dib noticed Zim was starting to eye up the trees.
“You’re just saying that because you want me to stop following you.” Dib retorts.
“I do, but no, that’s not why. I recognize your heartbeat,” Zim says blandly. Dib almost didn’t catch that. Almost. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact Zim could hear his heartbeat, much less that he could differentiate it from everyone else’s. It was something Dib was sure he could have gone his entire life without knowing and been just as happy.
“That’s not horrifying,” he says instead. Zim’s antennae twitched under his wig and he looked back with a smug grin. Dib stared at him, knowing that Zim could hear his heart rate pick up slightly, and the bastard of an alien just turned back around without saying a word. “So, what are you doing all the way out here? Are you trying to get lost again? Start an alien cult? Got a bomb out here?”
“None of those things, and you do not need to care. I just wanted to get away for a while. Not that you care to allow that,” Zim says plainly. Dib grit his teeth at the jab. Zim’s lack of raising voice was somehow more aggravating than if he’d been yelling at Dib to leave him alone. Dib was used to Zim screaming at him. He knew how to respond to a screaming alien.
“Yeah, RIGHT. You’re lying.” Dib declares, taking a few adventurous steps forward.
Zim immediately spun around to take a swipe at him. Dib brought his arm up, blocking the majority of Zim’s swipe. The claws caught at his sleeve and Zim gripped the fabric, bringing Dib forward with one harsh tug on his forearm. The fabric that had stopped the claws from tearing up Dib’s arm served next to hold him place. The tightness around his wrist meant he couldn’t just slip his hand out and abandon the coat. Zim’s grip was strong enough that the constriction started to hurt, and Dib wanted to squirm out of the hold despite knowing he couldn’t. He also knew that would only prompt Zim to hold his arm tighter and he didn’t want to start losing blood flow.
Dib kept his free arm away, primed and ready to strike once Zim made any motion towards him. Zim stared at him a moment as if debating if he should proceed. He scowled and shoved Dib away. Dib stumbled, catching himself on the wall of the park, and rubbed at the sore spot on his forearm. It would definitely bruise—he could already feel it. Zim was already walking away from him, running his fingers along the side of the wall. Dib cautiously walked after him.
“Then what are you doing out here?” he asks again.
“Getting some air, as you humans say,” Zim says.
The irritation was starting to invade his tone. Dib was sure his antennae were vibrating under the wig. He would like to see it—it was always fascinating to see the antenna show more of what Zim was feeling or thinking than the alien’s own face or body would ever convey. Zim would make a killing at poker and Dib didn’t believe him.
He was cursing himself for not packing something to use if this happened. It was always a hit or miss when he made the decision every morning. He always kept a water gun in his bag or his coat for emergencies, but he’d neglected to grab anything else that morning. He’d been hoping for a break for a day, and Zim had curiously allowed that up until he broke his usual pattern after leaving school. He hadn’t really been involved in anything the entire day, even suspiciously missing lunch only to pop up in history the next period. As much as Dib hated to admit it, he hadn’t been able to find anything out of the ordinary when he had patrolled the halls over the next few periods when he could.
“Since when do you care to do that?” Dib asks.
Zim’s claws started to scrape against the stone, carving lines into the rock. Zim didn’t answer, walking until he hit the entrance and turned inside. Dib poked his head around the corner, catching sight of Zim already at the tree line. Dib made it most of the way before Zim turned to him. In the shadows of the trees Dib could see the glow of Zim’s eyes past the contacts, just barely poking through. It caused a ‘demonic possession’ type of vibe and Dib stopped in his advancement on instinct. He suddenly felt uncertain. Zim was uncharacteristically stoic and it was throwing Dib off.
“I’m just getting some air. Go home,” Zim orders. Dib stood silent, unable to think of a response. Zim sounded… tired.
Did Irkens need to sleep?
Dib snapped from his musings when Zim had disappeared into the bushes. Dib watched the forest uncertainly. He wasn’t sure if he could trust Zim wouldn’t try to pull something. He waited at the tree line for a few hours before he figured it was safe enough.
He slipped into the bushes slowly, trying to remain silent. It didn’t take long to figure out that he had no idea how to move stealthily among trees and bushes. The branches of both were brushing against him even when he tried to move around them in the most ridiculous contortions. His boots on the leaves and twigs were no better. He really wished he’d packed his tree stand even though it would be of no help in tracking Zim down. It was different than tracking down a Big Foot or another creature that might wander into Dib’s clearing or past his cameras. Zim knew how to avoid Dib by now.
Regardless, Dib kept going straight. He had no idea how to track if Zim had gone anywhere else until he spotted an unusual indent in the bark of the trees. Three to four of the markings were on trees within a similar distance in bathes. Dib saw it bank right and started to follow. He broke out into a deer trail and looked down each direction. To his left he spotted another set of markings. He made a note that he’d have to turn around and go straight again to leave, just to be sure he didn’t get lost, before he went ahead.
He was looking up more than he was looking down. He tripped or stumbled more than once. Finally, mercifully, he broke out into a clearing. Dib stepped back immediately, spotting one of the PAK legs still bent over and hovering in the air just past the center of the clearing. It wasn’t a big clearing by any means. A giant log was off center in it. A small piece of missed history that might explain some of the changed terrain that allowed the grass to overtake the forest floor before any other foliage could.
Dib peeked around the tree he chose to hide behind and saw Zim’s PAK and head over the log’s body as if he were leaning against it. He was looking up at the sky. His PAK’s legs were just poised around him like the dead legs of a spider. It was unsettling to say the least. That said, he couldn’t see any device, any ship, or anything at all suspicious in the field. Dib ducked back behind the tree, ultimately confused. He started down the trail again, noting how it was getting dark. He could check again tomorrow.
By the time Zim had pushed back through the bushes the sky had gotten dark.
Zim hunched his shoulders, the PAK pressing against his back painfully. He let it, clenching his fists more out of the rage he felt as opposed to the pain. He ran one hand alone the stone wall, the claws cutting deep into the stones. He kept his other hand clenched. The pain kept him grounded. It caught his mind and kept it from free falling. Regardless, he started to shake.
~*~
Gir watched him silently. The robot had been bouncing off the walls and screaming for hours now. Zim hadn’t even moved in that entire time. Gir tilted his head. Zim had done this before. He seemed to zone out for hours on end, particularly after bad calls with The Tallest or others in the Empire. The difference here was that Gir could tell Zim was, in reality, intensely focused on the screen in front of him. His claws dug deeper into the metal of the desk the longer the Irken symbol flashed on and off the screen.
The screen had been blank, blinking the Irken symbol as the call was left unanswered yet again, for just as many hours as Gir had been wearing himself down. Typically, if Gir crashed into Zim, he’d let himself fall to avoid any injury to himself or Gir. It was utilitarian—so he wouldn’t have to waste time repairing himself or the hyperactive ball of metal that had flung itself into him. Gir knew that was why Zim let himself be tackled. Gir had joined Zim in staring at the screen when one such attempt at a tackle hadn’t moved the Irken an inch. Zim’s body had bene completely rigid, like a statue. Gir’s momentum, as much as he had built it up, hadn’t caused much in the way of disrupting his Master. Currently, Gir was looking at Zim and wondering if he should do something.
Zim bit his lip until it bled. He didn’t want to admit it.
The call would go unanswered.
~*~
Dib had been acing all his classes, surprisingly. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a genius—he was his father’s son, after all—but rather he was surprised that Zim’s absence wasn’t more of a distraction for him. He was somewhat distracted because it was unusual and that did inevitably put him on edge. A very hard edge that made it feel like his teeth were grating and he was standing on the edge of a cliff. Like the sound of nails on a chalk board and the feeling of weight being taken from him before he plummeted. He hadn’t found anything in the clearing the following morning. He hadn’t found anything in the following day, either.
By Friday he couldn’t take it any longer. If it weren’t for his sensors outside Zim’s base indicating he hadn’t left, Dib wouldn’t have been able to sleep. It was strange for Zim to disappear for days without a peep. It was strange for him to not make a peep the remainder of the week. It was strange and even unsettling that he supposedly hadn’t left his base in all that time, either. Any shift in the alien’s usual behavior warranted investigation. Dib simply had surmised that jumping down Zim’s throat about it wasn’t worth failing out of school.
But; he was free for the day now, and Dib made the walk to Zim’s base as easily as breathing. He didn’t need to focus for his feet to bring him there any longer. He had zoned out, thinking about the myriad of different plans Zim had probably been planning for the last few days, and not popping back into reality until he could see Zim’s base as he entered the cul-de-sac. He tried to calm his nerves. The familiar fear of going into this particular lion’s den was something he never was able to shake. As exciting as it was, it was also a huge risk every time. He knew he might not come out one day. He understood Zim wasn’t un-willing to kill him if he felt the need. Dib was surprised he’d lived this long. He had a fair number of scars to show for their battles. A few from lasers—that his Dad was more perceptive to than the usual odd scar—alongside all the claw marks. The latter he could at least explain away with monster hunting and running into the occasional feral animal. But the lasers’ marks had been harder to brush off. “It was a failed experiment” was luckily enough to get his father to back off.
Dib cautioned himself as he neared the front fence. He saw the gnomes standing at attention as usual. He stuck his foot into the lawn’s perimeter, toeing inside the property line, just to be safe. The gnomes didn’t respond. They didn’t even turn their heads. Dib took a cautious step inside. Still nothing. He took a bold leap, kicking one over and jumping back onto the sidewalk.
Nothing.
That was either very, very good; or very, very bad. Dib wasn’t sure which he would prefer. Obviously if Zim had up and left that meant Earth was safe; but then, Dib assumed the base would be gone with him. So, either the alien had seriously dropped his maintenance duties, had gotten very engrossed in one of his projects, or he was dead.
Dib decided to ignore the wandering possibilities and made his way to the door. He tapped it with his foot and the door swung open without resistance. Dib started to feel a ‘horror movie’ vibe coming on. He knew for most sensible people who watched horror as much as he had, he should have turned and gone home. Dib had already concluded that he was never the sensible type when he’d made the decision to possibly chase an alien for the rest of his life.
He stepped cautiously into the darkened house. The cords leading into the ceiling felt eerie-er than usual. The darkness was a definitive contributing factor to that. Dib felt his heartrate increasing every second he was there. It felt wrong to be there. He couldn’t recall many times that the lights were off in the surface level of the base. He walked inside, praying and praying that it wasn’t a trap of some kind. He’d brought his best tools with him just to be safe, but he could never be too sure. He got as far as the doorway to the kitchen before he stopped. Gir was sat atop the counter in the back corner, away from the prying eyes of any passerby on the sidewalk out front. Dib made his way up to the robot, lifting him up and looking over him. He was powered down, his eyes dark. Dib couldn’t find an ‘on’ switch and so set him back onto the counter. He wanted to study the robot more—for days, if he could—but he didn’t have the time to toy with that for now. He paused, noticing the dust and grime that had been building for the last half of the week on Gir’s body.
That’s not right. Zim’s a germophobe. Did he leave?
Dib hummed disapprovingly. He eyed the toilet and decided against it. If the power was truly out, then it wouldn’t work regardless, and he didn’t feel like going down that shoot. He bee-lined for the side table in the living room. He took it off the tiles, setting it aside. Dib hooked his fingers on the tile, trying to pry it open. It didn’t budge more than a millimeter. He tried a few more times before giving up with a huff and discarding his backpack. He rifled through it, finding his multi-tool. He hooked the point of the knife attachment under the tile, using leverage to pry it open. The hatch clicked when it popped open. Dib had to lift it up, forcing the hinges to snap. He wasn’t paying for that. He set the very edge of his shoe under the tiles, keeping them propped open. He looked down into the shoot, spying only darkness that was occasionally illuminated by a stray light. So, the base did have power. But none to the top floor. He wondered if he’d find anything down the tube, or if that’s all that was left. A tube and some forgotten lights set up with the neighbors’ power grid.
Dib furrowed his brow. He dug into his bag again, discarding binders he didn’t need any longer and grabbed for his grappling hook. He had thirty meters of cable in it, he could get pretty far on that. He shimmied his way into the shoot, securing the hook on the outside, and began his descent. The grappling hook only moved at a set pace when going down: slow. Dib had ample time to take in the scenery of dirt past a transparent walling. Eventually, he did hear a ‘click’ as the end of his cable caught on the line. He looked around, spying a door he could climb up to. He reeled in some of the line, struggling to stand on the tiny ledge that remained of the door’s frame. He used his knife here similarly to the shoot’s hatch.
Dib managed to push the door open, wedging his grappling hook’s body between the doors to keep them from shutting again. If he got lost, he’d just have to find the door with a plastic gun handle stuck in it.
Dib made his way through the lab cautiously. He had turned a few times when he started to see the scratch marks on the hall walls. Only ever down the single hallway, one set with dozens of doors, and none of them the source of the scratches had gone into more than once or twice, based on the amount of scratches that had made a new textured flooring. Some had even dragged up the walls. Dib felt his anxiety spike, breathing becoming more difficult, and his heart pounding in his ears. He took out a coin and flipped it.
Heads. Right, it is.
Dib banked down the hall. He followed the scratches to a door at the very end. It was set open, the light of the button stuck on. The button itself was cracked. Dib swallowed. He was definitely going to die.
Regardless, his dumb brain decided taking a quick peek inside wasn’t going to kill him. Not to mention he’d been caught inside the base before with a pissed off alien. It wasn’t any different if he got caught now. He figured if Zim did manage to beat him in a fight, he’d just launch him out with the cannon. Again. Dib poked his head in and gaped.
The room was, to put it mildly, utterly trashed. The walls weren’t just covered in scratches, but full on gouges in the metal. Several monitors had their screens shattered, the largest had the table thrown into it. The table that had been bolted to the floor, and whose single central leg was wrenched in half to achieve its new position. Wires and cables were hanging from the ceiling, out of the monitor stations, and from the floor where tiles were missing.
The uneasy pit in his stomach sank deeper. Dib tiptoed around the room, surveying the damage. He knew these markings well enough. He’d dodged the PAK legs enough times to be certain of the kind of damage they left on the surrounding area.
Did he get in a fight?
No, that didn’t seem likely. Dib’s sensors didn’t pick up any activity from outside for days. If someone had attacked, they’d have had to teleport in, or shrunk themselves. While he was aware nether feat was impossible, it was improbable. Dib left the room, making his way as quietly but hastily as he could to the opposite end of the hall. This door was also ajar. He spotted the tip of a PAK leg at the door. Instinctive fear bubbled up, but Dib fought it down.
He squeezed his way through the crack in the door and the frame. The room was just as trashed as the one before it. Dib trailed the PAK leg, walking as quietly as possible. It would occasionally twitch, making a metal creaking noise with the effort of the movement. Dib would pause, waiting, until it wasn’t moving any longer. He looked up to see the chair they were coming from. It was swiveled away from him. He could see Zim’s legs from this side.
Dib inched his way around the chair. He could see Zim was slouching in the seat with his eyes closed. Dib bent around the chair. He looked at Zim, leaning as close as he dared—which was about a few inches from his face. Dib smiled, the thought of the opportunity becoming too great for him to resist. He took his phone out, holding it up for a photo.
“I didn’t think Irkens slept,” he murmured. A clawed hand grabbed the other side of the phone, the photo ending up being a very dark image of Zim's palm.
“They don’t.”
Dib shrieked, jumping several feet back. He would be humiliated if it weren’t for the fact Zim seemed utterly disinterested in him. Instead, Zim simply chucked his phone across the room and looked back to the broken monitor. Dib stared a moment. He side-stepped to his phone, retrieving it without taking his eyes off Zim. He cautiously stepped back up to the alien when he didn’t move.
“Zim?”
Zim didn’t respond. Dib couldn’t rightfully tell with the red eyes if he even glanced in his direction. He sauntered up to the alien, his bravado getting the best of him again. He was still sure not to disturb the PAK legs on his way up.
“Zim, I have those handcuffs.” Dib says. Zim didn’t pay him any mind. Dib was lying, but the alien didn’t know that.
Dib did catch a twitch from the PAK leg nearest to him. It was a small twitch, like it had lost its energy or fight. Typically, Zim would have at least hissed at Dib as a warning. A hiss that would forever and always send shivers down Dib’s spine with how unnatural it sounded. Dib acquainted it to a cat and a rattlesnake the first time he heard Zim hiss at him with a real intent to kill or maim backing it up. Zim was deadlier than any animal Dib had come across, as well as a fair number of cryptids, and he had bolted the moment the sound had come out of Zim’s mouth. They’d been in the middle of a fight, but Dib would have been damned if he was going to be dumb enough to die after getting a warning like that. He’d already ruined the latest plans—the fight was just to see who could beat who first. Once he’d gotten home safely he, of course, wrote down as much as he could recall about the entire experience. Theories included.
And he was being a complete idiot right at this moment.
“…I have a water gun, too,” he adds.
Zim still didn’t look his way but Dib saw his antennae twitch. It was a minor reaction; but it was something. Dib did have the water gun. He had even pulled it out of his bag when he announced its presence. It was only about half full; but it was more than enough. The slosh of the water and Dib caught Zim’s antennae twitch and his body stiffen. But, shockingly, the alien didn’t make a move to… move. Dib felt his palms grow sweaty.
“Alright.” He moved in front of Zim, gun forgotten in his hand as he braced on his knees to lean down to Zim’s eye level. The alien looked at him with a blank glare. “Are you sick?”
“…Irkens don’t get sick.”
“He speaks!” Dib shouts exaggeratingly. He cracked a smile at his own joke; but Zim doesn’t react past his lids lowering a little more. He was unimpressed and it was a half-assed attempt at a deeper glare. Dib deflated, putting the gun back into his bag, against his better judgement. “C’mon, that one is classic. So, then what’s wrong with you?”
“…”
“The silent treatment again? You don’t look like you could put up much of a fight right now, either.” Dib said coyly. He looked around the room before adding, “At least, not right now. Looks like you tired yourself out.”
“Days ago,” Zim added gruffly.
Dib eyed him. “Are you depressed, or something?”
“Or something.”
Dib blinked at him. He hadn’t expected a real answer. On top of that, Zim’s tone wasn’t exactly comforting. Dib had heard himself talking like this from time to time. Zim sounded apathetic. Dib’s worry started to shift from his own safety to Zim’s, much out of his control, and fueled by curiosity. Dib rubbed the back of his head, double checking the room again. He shifted his weight between his feet.
“Do you wanna…. Talk about it?” he asked. Zim shot him a look. Dib raised his hands up and let them drop again. “Alright, space-boy, well, I’m not leaving until you do, so. There.”
“…. Enjoy starving,” Zim spits. There was that trademark snark Dib had become so accustomed to. It was still hiding a little; but it was peeking through and that meant progress. Whether that progress was good progress remained to be seen. But Dib was never one to quit.
“Ok, fine. Look, you’re the only person I’ve had regular contact with for years now that didn’t think I was insane—”
“You are.”
“—or actively shut me out for being weird.”
“You are.”
“And yet you still talk to me,” Dib says. “And not just to pick a fight.”
Dib recalled with clarity the nights that he and Zim would be on a rooftop or in the park or on the outskirts of town, and they’d either have tired themselves out or weren’t in a battling mood. The occasions were rare, but they had been becoming more frequent as the years passed. These were nights when they’d just talk, like normal people. Sure, it’d go back to fighting the next day, or the day after if their moods were good. But, Dib like those nights. He got more out of the alien than he ever did any other day on those nights. A lot of it was sub-textual information that Dib had to rely on theories to explain and it wasn’t anything as grandiose as weaknesses or base secrets—but opinions and recounts of basic space travel and Zim’s own life experiences were something Dib found equally valuable and engaging. The topics shifted throughout the conversations and could take hours to conclude. Zim, though he’d never admit it, respected Dib’s boundless curiosity for every topic at hand. Zim had gotten some things of use out of the conversations as well—it was the reason he told himself he kept at them. Though Dib could aggravating, annoy, and often anger him, Zim knew he was also one of the few people on the planet who he could hold a meaningful conversation with.
Presently, Dib was smiling smugly at him, inching ever closer across the line of annoyance into aggravation.
“Hey, I’m right. So, start talking. It helps.” Dib says. Zim eyed him. The PAK legs drew into his PAK, scraping against the flooring. They were uncharacteristically limp. Instead of sitting up to speak, Zim stood and walked towards the door, his back straight in typical military fashion. Dib paused before following him out. “Zim, it really does help.”
“Don’t care.”
“And speaking basic, bare minimum sentences don’t qualify,” Dib adds. Zim whirled on him, just a tiny spark of that energy coming back into his red eyes. They glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the hallway and Dib was adamantly reminded of just whose den he was currently trespassing in. A lump of fear blocked his windpipe for a moment.
“I could kill you.” Zim says evenly. Dib stared at him, acutely aware of the legitimacy of that fact and how he didn’t need the reminder. Plus, he had been pressing a matter that perhaps he shouldn’t have. A fact made clearer when Zim kept speaking. “I could skewer you like a shish kabob and burn your body to ash—until nothing was left. No one would know you’re missing except Gaz. Who, I somewhat, doubt would care. If she does, I could just do the same to her.”
Dib clenched his fists, but remained silent, holding Zim’s gaze steadily. The alien wasn’t moving, still as a statue, watching him back. Finally, Dib slowly started to shake his head.
“No, you wouldn’t.” Dib says finally. He let his body relax, his fists unclenching. He wasn’t about to let Zim goad him into a fight right now. He sees Zim’s shoulders prickle and his teeth start to bare. He wasn’t going to get goaded into a fight if he could help it, that is. Dib continues quickly. “Because then you’d be alone. It’s the same reason I haven’t killed you, either.”
Zim stares at him. Reading him. His lips had started to close, and he turned his back to Dib, stomping away. Dib felt relief wash over him briefly. He could live another day. For now.
He chased after Zim, partly because he wasn’t entirely sure where to go, and partly because he was genuinely concerned about what had caused Zim’s tantrum. He hadn’t even known Zim could wrench a bolted table out of the floor. The image flashed in Dib’s mind and his feet carried him driven by two emotions. Unabashed curiosity and hurt pride.
He’d been holding back on him.
The absolute dumbass.
“Hey. I get that this is probably something you don’t want to discuss, but I’m here for you to talk to me. It’s not like you can go to therapy.” Dib says, jogging up to Zim’s side to keep pace.
“What is that?” Zim asks. There was genuine curiosity in his voice and Dib grasped that little bit of real reaction like a lifeline. He couldn’t really pinpoint why he cared so much. If nothing else, he could distract Zim to some degree. Dib wasn’t sure why he was bothering, given if Zim died of starvation from his own apathetic self just neglecting to eat, it would have made Dib’s job a hell of a lot easier. And yet.
“It’s where people talk about their problems, in basic terms. It helps.” Dib insists. Zim shot him another look and Dib sighed dramatically. “It helps you paranoid bug—”
Zim whirled on him, pinning him to the wall by fists in his shirt. Dib latched onto Zim’s wrists, ready to wrench them away if he had to. He wasn’t sure how on the line Zim was between throwing him out or snapping his neck, either ending after a good beating. What Dib did know was that the claws were poking through his shirt and had assuredly broken skin. It was just another shirt down the drain. Dib opted to deal with trying to ask Gaz to sew it up later and met Zim’s eyes. Two full orbs of red, like bottomless pools of blood, all full of fury.
“And why?” Zim asked, tongue and teeth bare as he hissed when he talked. Dib shivered at the sound. “Why do you CARE?”
“I-I don’t… I don’t know, I just do.” Dib stammered. He gave an experimental tug on Zim’s hands. The fists tightened, only further cementing the early death of Dib’s t-shirt. Dib wriggled against the wall. He couldn’t move more than a few centimeters at a time. His heart rate was starting to pick up the more he couldn’t budge Zim’s grip. He may have to resort to kicking. Zim narrowed his eyes, hissing at him again.
“Liar.”
Zim dropped him, giving him a good kick to the shin before he started down the hall again. Dib clutched at his leg a moment, refusing to whine, as he stumbled after Zim down the hall. The wall was his support as he hobbled after him. He wasn’t one to give up easily, and Zim knew that by now. Dib was also one to push buttons.
“Zim, you’re being bothered by something. Tell me what it is.”
“You do not care.”
“I do,” Dib insisted.
“No, you do not. You can’t.” Zim shot back.
Dib glowered at the back of Zim’s head. He ran up in front of Zim, cutting him off in the hallway by putting a hand firmly on the alien’s chest. The alien’s demeanor didn’t shift very much. He glared Dib down, unimpressed. Given that Dib hadn’t been successful at all to fend Zim off a few seconds prior and that Dib just didn’t have that imposing of a frame; Dib’s attempt to stop him wasn’t that successful. Dib had never ‘grown into’ any sort of obvious muscle. He was still a good half a head taller than Zim—and could always be—but, Zim had learned he was deceptively strong. For someone so slight, Dib could pack a mean punch when he wanted to.
There in the hall, Zim could feel the effort Dib was putting into his palm to keep him from leaning forward to take another step. Zim could easily sidestep him; but that might incur a fight. Zim was just too mentally exhausted to fight. He was in the mood to poster and bluff, not fight. Instead, he reached his hand up, wrapped it around Dib’s wrist firmly, and pulled the boy’s hand away.
“No.”
Zim shoved past him, stopping at the elevator that had Dib’s grappling hook in it. Zim stared at it a moment before giving Dib a different ‘look’. One of abject disbelief with an undertone of annoyance. Dib flushed a little. Zim grabbed the gun, yanking it out and snapping the chord, without breaking eye contact. Dib stared disappointed at the loss of a large sum of money. He couldn’t afford putting in another equipment request to The Swollen Eyeball with his track record. The duo’s multiple encounters had cost the organization a pretty penny already.
Zim hit the button, oblivious to Dib’s future financial woes, and the elevator doors closed and opened again a moment later with the floor ready to take Dib up. Dib looked between Zim and the elevator. He stepped up and hit the button again, closing the door. He bounced out of Zim’s reach, just in case, when the alien stared at him in annoyance. The expression was largely unreadable—Dib would be hesitant to admit it, but Zim’s contacts really did most of the work when Dib was reading how he was feeling—aside from the half-lidded glare. It was also, pointedly, half-hearted. Dib decided to stand his ground. He wasn’t sure what he was wearing down; but a wall was starting to fall and he wasn’t losing this small foothold if he could help it.
“I’m not leaving,” he declared. Zim started to shake. He looked ready to scream and throw punches. Instead he turned on his heel back down another hall. The spark of anger in his eyes was a passionate flare; one that Dib saw be physically suppressed as Zim forced his body to turn. Dib had to jog to keep pace with his strides. Zim wasn’t making it subtle how much he wanted to be away from him. “Zim, I’m trying to help you.”
“And I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want your help. I don’t want you here,” Zim spits.
He hissed low and long as Dib caught up with him. He had half a mind to swipe out and slash the boy wherever his claws happened to land. It would be satisfying, to a degree. But it felt like too much effort. Instead, he just quickened his pace again. The satisfying groan of frustration that followed almost put a smile to Zim’s lips.
Dib was at a steady jog at this point. Meanwhile, Zim didn’t seem perturbed at all. He was keeping up the long stride with no indication that he was going to be slowing down any time soon. Dib had one or two more desperate pleas to make before he would resign to give up and try again another day.
“Zim, I really do think it’d benefit you—”
“Dib, the last person I want to talk to is YOU!” Zim growls. Dib hears the hiss in the very back of Zim’s throat. Setting aside the curiosity of how he managed to growl and hiss simultaneously, Dib instead became acutely aware of the fact that he, once again, was in the perfect position to be murdered. And yet, Zim had yet to do so.
Ah, that glimmer of hope was there, yet.
“Ok, how about this?” Dib began. He sprinted ahead, blocking Zim’s path. “You just have to say one thing.”
Zim’s PAK leg came out, thrusting towards Dib. Familiar fear and the instinct to live was the only reason he side-stepped it just in time to save his shoulder. Zim didn’t break his pace, waltzing right by the boy.
“As I was saying,” Dib began again. “You just have to say one thing and I’ll leave!”
The final words caught Zim’s attention, his antennae flicking in Dib’s direction. His stride finally came to a halt. Dib cursed that superior alien stamina once he was close enough to see that Zim didn’t even seem fazed, whereas Dib was left breathing heavier than he’d like to admit. Zim had his chin cupped in his fingers. He sighed, turning to Dib.
“I. Am. Upset.” He says evenly. Dib stared blankly at him, waiting for more. No shit, he was upset. Dib could have easily guessed that. The PAK leg jutted out, maneuvering around Dib’s head and twisting itself in the hood of his jacket even as Dib tried to dodge out of the way. It lifted him off the ground and Zim started to walk back towards the elevator. “And that is all.”
Dib, now that he was aware he wasn’t going to be skewered, was busy trying to come to terms with the fact Zim had admitting to being upset. Sure, the Irken would curse and scream and throw tantrums when he was pissed. But never had Zim admitted, openly, to being upset. The three-word phrase had never, to Dib’s knowledge, left his mouth before. While Dib had been the one to goad Zim into the, admittedly small instance of, emotional openness it was strange to experience it. While Zim was certainly passionate about many of his feelings, those feelings largely consisted of rage, aggravation, annoyance, triumph, narcissism, or sadistic glee.
“Upset” was not in established the vocabulary. “Upset” was not what Dib had seen before. “Upset” was new territory. Territory Dib wasn’t sure how to navigate.
Zim threw him into the elevator. Dib’s back hit the walling of the tube, knocking the wind out of him, and his senses back in. He scrambled to his feet. The PAK leg hovered in front of him, poised to stab. Dib stood there, staring past it towards Zim.
“You will LEAVE my base. Now.” Zim ordered.
He pressed the button, retracting his PAK’s leg slow enough Dib couldn’t slip past it in the doorway. Dib wouldn’t have dreamed of doing it, as the failure of doing so meant getting stabbed who-knew-where. He let the elevator bring him up to the main floor, the cable of the grappling hook forming a pile as it climbed. Dib gathered the cable up in his arms. It didn’t have to be a total waste of scrap. The elevator deposited him back in the living room. Somehow it seemed more suffocating than before.
Dib trudged to the door. He knew when to let something go. For now. He was going to be back, all right. He wasn’t leaving the alien alone for long as it stood right then.
~*~
Dib had returned the next day, as it were, and noted the gnomes still weren’t active. At this rate he probably could have climbed to the rooftop and taken the Voot for a joy ride before Zim knew what had happened. While Dib didn’t know much about flying the Voot, he had his limited experience in Tak’s ship under his belt. He slotted the possibility in the back of his mind as he pushed the still unlocked door open again. Gir was left where he had been set yesterday. Not entirely a good sign, as it meant in the least Zim still hadn’t turned him back on. The undisturbed layers of dust meant Zim still hadn’t come up at all.
Dib forced the tube open again, resetting the hook to where it had been before and lowering himself down by hand on the cable. He stopped at the same elevator at the end of the cable and repeated the method of entry he had before. He poked his head through. The halls were still dark. Dib looked around, shrugging on his jacket once more. It had a small tear from the tip of the PAK leg; but it wasn’t something worth throwing it away for, given how some of his clothing had been ruined.
Dib explored the rooms, most of which were destroyed similarly to the two rooms he’d found before. He excluded the doors what wouldn’t open to him until finally he spotted the same green head and antennae poking out from a chair. Dib sighed inwardly, walking in without trying to be quiet. The antenna perked up and Zim peered around the chair at him, as unimpressed as he was before.
“What, you thought I’d be gone long?” Dib asked snarkily.
The Irken didn’t respond, turning back around, head on his hand. Dib felt an eye twitch. He forced the chair to swivel around to glare Zim in the eyes. Zim’s leg retracted, kicking out once he was fully turned, landing a solid hit in Dib’s ribs. Dib doubled over with a cough, clutching his side.
“No fair,” Dib rasped. He straightened himself, leveling out his breathing.
“You’re the one who is trespassing,” Zim points out. His voice was gravelly, as if it had been overused. He used his foot to shove Dib away, who stumbled to regain his footing, with a fresh bloom of pain in his side. Zim kicked the chair away as he stood.
The PAK leg hooked itself in Dib’s hood again, twisting to maintain grip. When it lifted, Dib heard the tearing of fabric. The leg had managed to lift him off the ground before the hood gave way and the tear went right through the fabric, freeing him. Dib hit the floor, tackling Zim immediately in a lunge. Whatever funk the alien was in, it was definitely the only factor that aided Dib in successfully pinning him to the ground. While Zim was in a very shallow lean thanks to his PAK, Dib was able to pin down the Irken’s arms. The PAK leg had twisted around, stopping its thrust close enough to Dib’s back that he could feel the tip hovering over his shirt. Dib stared at him, waiting for the tip to pierce his back. Zim looked confused.
Zim seemed conflicted on what to do. He accepted he’d been caught off guard. Dib wasn’t sure if he refrained from striking him down because it meant he would be sprayed with blood, or another reason. Zim’s face was contorting between disgust, anger, and another conflicting emotion that Dib couldn’t quite identify. He really wished Zim was wearing the contacts so it’d be easier. The PAK leg was twitching indecisively behind him, occasionally poking into his back. Dib felt sweat starting under his shirt. He was on thin ice. He just knew it.
Finally, Zim seemed to make a decision as he started to thrash under Dib’s weight.
“GET OFF!” the Irken roared. “You—you’re such a filthy, filthy worm!”
“No, we’re discussing this,” Dib says, ignoring the insult and the kicks to his back. The confidence in his voice was delivered with a quiver that he wished wasn’t there; but he wasn’t giving in. Zim could hit and kick him all he wanted. He had various times before.
And that’s exactly what the alien seemed to be doing. Dib felt his knees in his sides and his back, and it hurt, but he’d endured worse. Zim’s arm reached up, a punch landing squarely on Dib’s jaw. Dib gave a more audible ‘oof’ than he’d’ve liked to, recoiling from the hit on reflex. It was surprising to feel Zim’s own arm bend up to land the hit so effortlessly. It had more weight behind it than Dib thought it would. Dib wasn’t sure he had offered any level of resistance against Zim’s swing, despite how hard Dib had been trying to hold him down. Even with his arms pinned, Zim had thrown the punch with ease. Zim had been going easy on him and it was just insulting.
Dib’s dodge gave Zim just enough wiggle room to try and pull himself from under him. Dib grabbed at his arms again, shoving the alien down.
“Damn it, Zim, it’s just talking!” Dib shouted. He felt Zim’s struggles weren’t the best they had ever been. It was as if the alien’s fight had left him after the first swing. “Would you stop? What the hell even happened?”
Zim sneered at him. He growled, but he stopped trying to kick Dib off. Dib was silently grateful; he didn’t want to explain why he was utterly covered in bruises if his dad demanded to inspect why he was limping later. He could only blame school bullies so many times before someone investigated the frequency. Zim looked away, staring pointedly at the wall. His antennae weren’t flat against his skull, so he wasn’t planning to gut Dib anytime soon, which was good. They were at the angle Dib had concluded meant he was being irritated. Dib would take irritation over murderous intent any day. He let his grip loosen just a fraction and felt a jolt as Zim tried to sit up, taking Dib’s one slip as an opportunity.
Dib pressed him back down. Zim glared at him, snarled even. Dib knew he was capable of pushing him off, and he wondered for a moment why Zim hadn’t yet. Instead, Zim set a clawed hand on Dib’s thigh, right over a major artery. It was a silent threat. A restrained one, but Dib got the point. It appeared Zim had given up on verbal refusal for the moment. Dib looked uncertainly at him.
“You’d get your floor all dirty with my blood, huh?” he taunted.
The words had left his mouth very nearly on reflex at this point. A taunt was something they just did to one another. As if it were a game. Though Dib wouldn’t call this a fight, he would concede that it could very easily turn into one. Point of example was the floor hitting him before the realization that he’d been pinned did. He always just had to push his luck. Zipper teeth stopped inches from gnashing on his neck before Dib had time to properly react. It was the perfect bite—right over his neck and major arteries as he was pinned sideways—and Dib shivered, unable to process why exactly Zim had stopped. He was thanking every God that existed he had; but the confusion remained. On top of the fact that this was perhaps the closest he’d just come to dying by Zim’s hand. Or teeth. Perhaps a few thankful prayers were just good manners.
Zim gripped Dib’s arms strong enough that it was unquestionably going to leave bruises. Dib could even hear the hiss growing in Zim’s throat. The alien leaned down so that Dib could hear him better. “NO.”
Dib had it. He used what little momentum he could gain to try and sit up. The attempt failed and all he could really muster was leaning on his elbows after trying to fight Zim off several times. Zim still hadn’t expected it, coming chest to chest and his head filling the spot between Dib’s neck and shoulder once Dib had managed to secure a place for his elbow and readjusted. Zim had still had his claws on Dib’s arms, the points threatening to break skin when Dib’s shifting body almost threw the alien off balance. Zim leaned away, keeping some form of distance between them, but he didn’t let go.
“FINE. Be that way. Can you at least muster up enough will to live to help me with something else, then?” Dib asked. Zim blinked at him, gone still in what Dib could only assume was confusion. He waited until Zim had stood, brushing himself off, before continuing. The puzzled expression Zim was giving him was more than enough of a question.
“I’m going Big Foot hunting this week. The damage your PAK legs have made,” Dib waved his arms around the room, “would be ample defense while I’m doing it.”
“You think you can just DEMAND anything from me? You’ve gone rotten in the brain, Earth-pig.” Zim says, waving Dib off. He started out of the room, stopping when Dib grabbed him from behind in what would have otherwise been called a hug if Zim wasn’t kicking and swearing at the boy in Irken. As a result it was more like Dib was halfway to wrestling Zim back onto the ground.
“It’s for a DAY, Zim. If I can put this rivalry behind for a day, then surely you can muster the same restraint!” Dib pleads. “I need to do this assignment!”
He also really, really needed backup for this Big Foot hunt. Gaz had already turned him down, his dad was not an option, and he had no friends he could rely on for this. Half of the kids in the clubs Dib was in couldn’t even climb a rope, much less a tree, even if a monster or a bear were chasing them. Dib didn’t want to risk having a mauling of a classmate on his hands. The Swollen Eyeball wasn’t approving it for an official investigation—only a cursory one. His only option left was to go solo; or pray Zim would tag along. It helped that it doubled as a way to keep an eye on the alien. Regardless, Zim protested, heartily, for a good few minutes until Dib felt like his arms would fall off. He had expected that the moment he decided to grapple him from behind. Finally, mercifully, Zim seemed to calm down enough to give a tired huff and slump in Dib’s arms. Dib was grateful Zim had stopped trying to break his arms. He knew he could, easily, if he really wanted to; but, he wasn’t going to complain that he wasn’t.
“Let me go, Dib.”
Dib paused. Zim rarely called him by his name without some tacked-on insult and he realized that the same thing had happened yesterday. Dib let him down, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. He swayed on his heels for a while, unsure in what to do. Zim wasn’t turning to him, his antennae weren’t twitching to listen to anything Dib might do next, and he was staring at the floor with his fists clenched. He just stood there where Dib had dropped him as if he were a statue. It was unsettling to see the utter lack of movement in someone Dib knew was a ball of unbridled energy. Usually. Something was clearly wrong.
Dib figured one last attempt was enough before he’d give up.
“I mean, c’mon. You wouldn’t risk that some other entity would do me in before you could, right?” Dib asked. He watched Zim flinch before going still again.
A prod to Zim’s ego was always a sure-fire way to easily manipulate him. Dib almost felt bad. He didn’t seen another way around it yet, though, so he was willing to risk it. It was idiotic to do so, maybe, and yet he didn’t really care either way at the moment. Getting any kind of reaction from Zim was enough. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done it before. He would insult Zim’s ego and ability to do what he intended constantly in their battles. Particularly when Dib knew he’d won.
Zim turned to him slowly, eyes full of suspicion. Despite that, Dib could see the gears turning in Zim’s head. It was already working. Eventually, when Zim couldn’t find any trickery in Dib’s innocent but snarky grin, he pinched his brow. His antenna flicked about indecisively a moment before settling.
“FINE. Zim will accompany you so that you don’t die before…. Whatever I do to this dirt ball.” Zim says, waving his hand tiredly.
Dib’s smile faltered a little. Zim sounded… tired. Not the physical exhaustion Dib was accustomed to, but a more mental wear that he knew much more familiarly. So much so that Dib knew now was not the time to press the matter. He simply clapped his hands and beamed instead.
“Excellent! I’ll meet you right back here in a few days,” Dib says. He brushed past Zim on his way out.
The alien didn’t react much with the motion, stiffening up once again after the initial contact before his bristles settled, and he just watched Dib leave. He felt something bubbling up in his core and he shook his head to get it to dissipate. Gir ran up to him, falling down at his feet.
“Is Mary coming back?” he asks. Zim sighed.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Is Mary going to make you feel better?” Gir asks, grabbing his feet and swaying them back and forth like a toddler. Zim’s antennae lowered confusedly.
“What?”
“You’re going to feel better!” Gir announced suddenly, jumping up and screaming up and down the blocked hallway.
Zim watched him a moment. He didn’t regret agreeing to go on the trip with Dib. He was certain he’d be fine. It was Dib, after all. Even if he managed to get one up on Zim, neither had taken the proverbial shot and solidified their win in years. Zim hated to admit it—he hated to think about it—but at some point he lost the drive to actually kill Dib. Despite how much he got in the way. Zim just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He doubted he’d have an issue killing any other human—Dib was the rare exception in his eyes.
A rare exception he was about to have pestering him for days.
10 notes · View notes
Text
A tag game from @nolongervoid, yo
Mah name: Borg is my nickname, debating whether I should share my real first name...
My age: Coming up on 11,000,000 minutes (That’s 192 in binary!)
Height: About 1 Alex Horne, or just over 7 and a half cats.
Star Sign: A rather typical Virgo
Hogwarts House: The “Fuck JK” House
Last thing I googled: “Goofy disney” to realize, to mine and Katie’s horror, he is the only old Disney character with visible teeth.
Song stuck in my head: “Dance Macabre” by Ghost
Lucky number: multiples of 4
Wearing: An invader zim tshirt and shorts, cause it is HOT out
Follower count: 39
amount of sleep: These days? 2-3am to 10-11am.
favorite instrument: Violins and electric guitars (that’s two, I don’t care)
Favorite Author: Uhhh don’t have a constant one, but right now/recently I freak out over Drew Hayes on the professional side and @justanotherpersonsuniverse
Aesthetic: Steampunk crazy game master, dark creepy robot, Chessmaster, Locksmith magician polymath... whatever kinda mishmash that is.
Favorite animal sound: Porcupine eating tiny pumpkins.
Random: Reverse the particulation of the absolit reflactor!
And I’ll tag some buds, @katieisacutie, @thebigpapilio, @achigginnugger, @myanchorandyourcompass
3 notes · View notes
prof-zimbrane · 5 years
Text
The Face of Love
Summary: They’ve done almost all the dating cliches in existence, they’ve been in an established relationship for a while now but there are still secrets between them. Secrets pertaining to a certain someone’s true appearance. Zim loves Professor Membrane and he’s sure that the feelings are mutual but should he risk it?
Word Count: 7443
AO3 link
Yo, here’s a Zimbrane fic for the upcoming Halloween. It’s got body horror?? I guess so read with caution. It’s nothing too bad. Believe me, I bet it’s something you won’t expect ;)
It’s my first fanfic?? ever I guess so please be gentle and if possible, give me feedback on how I can improve cuz I love this pairing and I wanna write more for them ;-;
Zim’s current love-slave has everything Zim ever wants in a partner. Professor Membrane is brilliant, tall, good with weapons, and has caused Dib more anguish and doubt than Zim could ever cause.
Zim knows and has seen what Professor Membrane can accomplish. Combined, they’d be the greatest gift to the universe in all its existence. But there is this… oddity to their relationship.
Most couples would’ve already known how the other really looked like, appearance wise (actual personalities are sometimes never revealed), at their current stage. Yet somehow, Zim has never seen his partner’s face.
Sure Zim hides his appearance, but unlike Professor Membrane, Zim is pretty sure he has a lot more to lose, given his “foreign” heritage and occupation as an invader and all.
But Professor Membrane must be human, right? Whatever horrible thing he’s hiding under his lab coat and goggles couldn’t be the worst Zim has ever seen. Zim isn’t superficial enough to stop loving someone based on their appearance, height notwithstanding, hell humans are already ugly enough to Zim yet he still decided to pursue the scientist.
Maybe Professor Membrane was scarred or disfigured? Or maybe he’s so horrifyingly ugly according to “human” standards that he has to hide it. Dib does have a rather large head after all and Gretchen’s the only one Zim knows (has been told) that seems to like Dib.
There’s nothing wrong with asking things from your partner. In fact, it would only be fair for Zim’s burning curiosity to be satisfied. If Zim wants to find out how Professor Membrane looks like, then he will find it out. He is Zim, nothing is out of the question. But is he ready for it?
He could leave things as they are and continue like normal, or he could confront Professor Membrane and find out what’s hidden underneath. But would it be too soon? They’ve done all sorts of couply things together already, according to Zim’s “dating humans” guide list he devised when learning about human affection that one dreadful time with Tiq? Taco? T something, he still misses his robot bee, Robbee never even completed his first mission, but that’s irrelevant now.
They’ve gone to an expensive eating establishment (Zim paid with Earth monies but those monies were outdated cents and quarters), they’ve watched the sun set and looked at the stars (one of Zim’s favourite moments), they’ve watched horror movies in the cinema (they were more horrified by the actions of the teens surrounding them though), and they even did a “Netflix & Chilli” (Zim still believes that the alien Jim is a loser for losing his leaders to a space anomaly).
They’ve even passed through several stages of physical affection. It started out with staring, then casual pats, they’ve even skipped straight to hugging before hand holding. They haven’t begun eating each other’s faces yet but Zim still finds it repulsive and another factor in the brutishness of stinky human courtship rituals.
Today was one of their date nights. Their plans only included dinner at Zim’s base. Though, Zim hopes that Professor Membrane will acknowledge his amazement at Zim’s awesome cooking skills and be willing to show his face once and for all.
 ---------------------
Dinner went off splendidly. Although the turkey had an unfortunate extra ingredient added to it, in the form of a dysfunctional, hyperactive robot. Professor Membrane thankfully thought of it as a pleasant surprise, meant to showcase Zim’s brilliance.
But now comes the hard part. Zim has to convince the Professor to stay for a while longer. He can do this.
Zim mustered up all his courage and held Professor Membrane’s hand as he was about to say his goodbyes.
“Wait! Stay a bit longer! I still have much to do with you!” Zim looks desperately into Professor Membrane’s shiny goggles, he HAS to find out what was underneath or else he’ll be restless for the entirety of their relationship, which would definitely affect his plans.
“What? We didn’t plan anything else for tonight though. Dib and Gaz should be fine but this is rather sudden.” Professor Membrane looks at their clasped hands and Zim’s hopeful expression.
“What is it that you want exactly? Are we going to your lab again?” He questioned.
He’s been helping Zim out with his inventions, spending a lot of hours just tinkering together in harmony. Science has always been a delight to do but with Zim, it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time ever. He’s regained some of his wonder and childish curiosity with Zim’s input and feedback.
Anxiety was visible through Zim’s body language. He was hunched over, his eyes hurriedly shifting from left to right and back. He exhaled.
“I want to progress our relationship to the next stage,” Zim admits, “it’s just that, all we’ve done so far is hold hands and cuddle. Not that I hate it! If you ever stop then I will go to your house at night and replace your roboarms with bamboo skewers!”
Zim lets go to cross his arms and glare.
“Well, it is true that we’ve been taking it slow. I could say that part of it is my fault for being unfamiliar with this... relationship thing.” Professor Membrane muses. Is Zim dissatisfied with what they currently have?
“I’m sorry Zim, am I going too slowly for you?” he asked.
“No not at all! You satisfy me plenty. I admit that I’m also new to what we’re doing right now.” Zim quickly denied.
Professor Membrane feels relief. As a scientist, he can deal with all sorts of fields but relationships were harder to understand.
“That’s good, I treasure you and our love together. I don’t usually get to have a lab partner who’s not an employee of mine.” He confesses. He’s grown too attached.
“Great! As for the reason I am keeping you here for,” Zim paused.
He was in the right to ask for things. He shouldn’t feel worried.
 “I’m demanding that you show your face to me.” Zim said resolutely. He looked expectedly at his human.
Professor Membrane felt panic. He should’ve expected it. He didn’t think it would be now though.
“My face? There’s nothing to see! It looks quite boring underneath.” He tried to play it off.
Zim looks dejected and hurt. Professor Membrane ignored him, that hurt.
“But I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t know the colour of your eyes or the shape of your face or even if you have weird lips. How can I be sure that you’re not a new person every time we meet? Are you even the original Membrane that I confessed to? You’re not another weird clone right?” Zim accused. Starting a chain of repeated lines.
“I’m not…” Professor Membrane answered.
“Are you?”
“I’m not…”
“Are you?!”
“I’m not...”
“Are you?!!”
He had enough. While he may love Zim, he doesn’t enjoy this continuous back and forth, even if it is somewhat cute.
“ZIM!” he shouted, “I swear by my 24 degrees that I’m not a clone. I’m the only original Professor Membrane in this reality.”
“Then why are you hiding your face from me? Don’t worry! I don’t mind if you look hideous. Just show me your trust.” He tried to look harmless but inside, Zim is worried that he’s asking for too much. Something is telling him to trust Professor Membrane in return.
Professor Membrane remained silent for a while. He’s debating internally over whether he should show Zim his face.
But eventually he relented to Zim’s request.
“Alright, I’ll show you but do you have somewhere else where we could do this? Your kitchen-lavatory room is not what I have in mind for sharing personal secrets”
They looked around. Gir, still in the turkey, was taking care of his many pig friends. The camera Dib installed is still visibly there, recording their conversation. Zim should remind the Computer to disable it or have it record a non-stop footage of Floopsy Bloops Schmoopsy.
“Urghh, I guess it’s fine.” Zim groans out. “Join me in my basement.”
He leads Professor Membrane by the hands through a closet that goes underground. It was different from the other places of Zim’s underground level. Here is where he kept his more Earth friendly technology.
It looks somewhat similar to Professor Membrane’s own lab in his basement, except with what appears to be a waiting area, with a sofa, a soda vending machine and a receptionist desk. But the only life there were bundled in the cobwebs of the receptionist’s chair. The receptionist is apparently out for smoke break.
They settled on the comfortable purple sofa. Anticipation was in the air.
“Well? Show Zim the goods!” Zim holds out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. He can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.
Professor Membrane takes off his goggles first to reveal his eyes. His fingers then undid the upper half of his lab coat to reveal the bottom half of his face. Underneath his lab coat he wore a tight, black turtle neck.
It’s not what Zim expected. He was shocked. His previous expectations were crushed like humans should be underneath his boot.
There’s nothing wrong. Professor Membrane’s face looks like any other humans. If Zim were human, he’d even consider Professor Membrane’s face to be ridiculously good-looking, even by celebrity standards. But Zim wasn’t a human so, to him Professor Membrane’s face was as ugly as all the rest of the human species.
Even Professor Membrane’s eyes are nothing extraordinary, except for the glowing blue light that the irises emit and the pupils that expanded and contracted like camera shutters.
Zim actually found himself feeling slightly disappointment, since there was nothing special to look at.
“Is that all you have hidden there? Why even bother wearing your coat and goggles so conservatively?” Zim says annoyingly.
“That’s just my fashion sense.” Professor Membrane says chipperly.
He laughed disconcertingly, a drawn out “Ha ha ha,” as if he were watching a comedian embarrass himself instead of delivering actual jokes.
He’s trying to placate Zim. Professor Membrane was acting strange. His lips seem to be delayed by a couple of nanoseconds when he speaks. If it weren’t for the many modifications Irkens had to endure, Zim never would have noticed.
“Your eyes are different though. They’re not brown like the eyes of the Dib-beast or the little Gaz-monster.” Zim is judging Professor Membrane.
Zim’s nicknames for his kids were odd but somehow, they sounded charming to the Professor.
“I had them replaced when my vision was failing, you know how humans are with all the limitations of biology.” He hand waved his difference away. Zim is still not satisfied.
“Let me see them closer.”
Zim leaned on Professor Membrane. He’s holding Professor Membrane’s face in his palms as he stared deep into his human’s eyes. Zim always thought that human eyes were freaky, with their milky white sclera. But Professor Membrane’s eyes were pretty. He had long lashes and the electric blue glow they emitted reminded Zim of Tallest Miyuki’s calm gaze that captivated the hearts of her people.
Zim observed the rest of his face, Professor Membrane’s nose looked regal and fit him perfectly. Zim also notes that his features were perfectly symmetrical, another contributing factor in human attractiveness, although this time it also extended to Irken beauty standards. Finally, there was something both races had in common.
Before he realized it, his gaze then went down to the scientist’s lips. They looked soft and had a perfect curve to them. But they were pressed tight, stiff and unmoving.
He was removed out of his stupor when Professor Membrane uttered a word, Zim’s name, from his perfectly shaped lips. Such perfection was otherworldly, it shouldn’t exist. There weren’t any blemishes or other hideous imperfections on his skin either.
“Zim? Zim! While I do find your attention flattering, don’t you think you’re too close?” Professor Membrane said in a hitched voice.
Professor Membrane’s eyes revealed his current emotions more than the rest of his face. Despite the nervous tone, his face remained stoic, his wide-blown, erratic pupils betrayed him instead.
Zim hadn’t realized, but he’s moved so close that he was kneeling on top of Professor Membrane. They’ve cuddled before, it’s true, but never this close, and never face-to-face with Professor Membrane’s exposed, hypnotic eyes.
It was the first time Zim didn’t feel revulsion at seeing a human. His past self would’ve spitted at him and called him a filthy xenophile for feeling whatever this is. But Zim putting himself before his empire was nothing new, although it still hurt him to acknowledge it.
“You’re actually not too hideous. I am pleased.” Zim tried to sound dismissive, but it’s clear that he is affected by his lover’s appearance.
“I’m glad my face pleases you then, my celestial lover.” Professor Membrane said warmly.
His expression was light. A smile graced his lips. That made something flutter in Zim’s innards.
But he began feeling another rare feeling, guilt. What is it with all these feelings now?? Zim is too great to be bothered by that. Yet, should he reveal his actual face? Would he be dissected or worse vivisected if he did? He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his life stuck in a tube. His partner was related to Dib after all and his passion for science is, at times, obsessive.
Zim was distracted from his worries by a sudden pressure on his lips. They were soft. His love was kissing him. That was Zim’s first kiss. Not just Zim’s first kiss on the lips but first kiss in general, and it had to be lip-to-lip.
Before he could respond to Professor Membrane’s actions, the Professor drew back with a sheepish expression.
“I’m sorry Zim, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.” He mumbled.
Professor Membrane’s arms, which were previously stuck to his side, lifted to caress Zim’s head.
“I couldn’t help myself, you’re really cute Zim. Was it too soon?” He asked.
“No it’s fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Zim felt dizzy. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but it was the truth.
“There won’t be any cannibalism though right?” asked Zim. Worry appeared on his face again but more exaggerated than before.
“What if there was, what if I admit that I want to eat you up?” Professor Membrane said teasingly. He’s amused by his love’s thinking.
“If anyone does the eating it would be Zim!” he exclaimed. “My love-pig is no match for my razor sharp teeth.”
Zim shows off his pink, zipper teeth. Another odd thing about Zim that captivates the curious mind of the Professor.
“Perhaps, we should test it out with a little experiment?” Professor Membrane’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
“What kind of experiment?” Zim questioned.
“An experiment where we find out who’ll consume the other first.” He challenged Zim.
“It will definitely be me.” Zim grinned, showing off his teeth again.
This time, it was Zim who acted first. He pressed his lips tight against his human’s. Zim’s antenna tingled underneath his wig, if he hadn’t stuck it tightly with adhesives before, they would’ve sprung free from their confinement, he’s learnt his lessons during Earth’s many challenges.
Professor Membrane held Zim tighter towards his body. As if he never wants to let go, as if he’s afraid of losing Zim.
Zim’s hands were still occupied with exploring every inch of Professor Membrane’s face. He wants to burn his love's features into his hands, forever imprinting their impressions into his memory.
But, during Zim’s explorations, he began noticing a long depression near the outer reaches of Professor Membrane’s face. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, if Zim hadn’t been an Irken. Irkens had really sensitive skin, that’s why they cover themselves up so much.
He paused his kissing to get a better feel for Professor Membrane’s face. The depression circled the outer cheeks, over the eyebrows and seemingly ended between Professor Membrane’s upper and lower lip on both sides.
“My love? What are you doing?” Professor Membrane stuttered out. Yet, Zim’s previous observations about the stoicism of his features seemed sprung out more than ever.
“There is something you’re keeping from me. I can sense it beneath my fingers!” Zim accused Professor Membrane.
He stood up from his previous position to pace around the room, never taking his eyes of his lover. Zim moved like an interrogator in a prison. He won’t stand any lies.
If Professor Membrane could emote more, he’d have despair written all over his face. His right hand began covering the bottom part of face, in a nervous gesture.
“Zim, my love, there’s nothing wrong. Come back to my arms. Whatever you felt must have been due to your unfamiliarity with my face.”
Still seated, he leans towards Zim with his arms spread out.
“Oh no! Don’t lie to me! I know what I’ve felt, I’ve seen how you move your lips. Why don’t you trust me?!” Zim recoils.
Zim’s never trusted anyone before but he expects trust from them. Zim has always believed himself to be a genuine person, sans his human disguise, and to have his character or actions questioned really pissed him off.
“You’re right Zim,” he relented “I am hiding something. I’ve only shown this to a few of the people I know, and it’s always ended in them disappearing. Not even Gaz or Dib have seen me without this.”
There’s something chilling about the way Professor Membrane says it. It was like Zim stepped on an old landmine, waiting to see if it’ll end in a disaster or not. He’s not sure about what Professor Membrane meant by disappearing but he doesn’t want to question it. As a part of the Irken Elite and as an Irken soldier, he can face anything.
“Don’t worry, whatever secrets you hold won’t be enough to scare me away. I love you, I’ve never loved anyone before.” Zim’s voice was soft, remarkably different from his usual screeching.
How many times has he said those words? Aside from his first sentence towards the only parental unit Zim ever knew, he’s only said it to Professor Membrane.
Again, Zim is doing something uncharacteristic. Was he trying to ease Professor Membrane’s discomfort with this entire thing? Trying to convince himself to be brave? Or was it just love that made Zim say that. Could a human really make Zim question himself that way? What kind of person is Professor Membrane to hold this much power over Zim’s heart.
“Please, don’t look away.” Professor Membrane pleaded.
He walked towards Zim, the height difference more noticeable now that they’re standing in front of each other. But that difference disappeared though, when Professor Membrane kneeled in front of Zim.
It was like one of those Earth movies that Zim watches, where one of the members of a couple kneel down to ask for a union. But instead of reaching into a pocket for a small rock, Professor Membrane reached for the sides of his face.
Slowly, he revealed what’s hidden underneath. Zim was right. Professor Membrane was disfigured. What he didn’t expect was the severity of the disfigurement.
In all of Zim’s time on Earth, with his countless research on human biology, he’s never sliced off anyone’s face. But even then, it wouldn’t have looked like Professor Membrane’s current features. His face was a prosthetic.
He has no face, no barrier protecting his passageways from the outside world. The only remaining parts of Professor Membrane’s face were his lower jaw, his temples, and his eyes.
Looking closer, Zim could see that the glow of his eyes was concentrated on the front part, the only part that is visible with Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic. The other half was encased in metal, connected to his organic parts with wires.
It was fascinating actually, seeing the mucosal tissues of a human. There was so much pink, pink like the lifeblood that flows through every Irken’s veins. His tongue was resting on top of his lower jaw, it was weird seeing it disappear as it nears the throat, going down the oesophagus.
Zim could also see a marriage between the organic and mechanic, as metallic parts are there to support and cover some of the exposed meat. Where there should be the nasal passage, was an artificial tube.
The edges featured tiny magnets, probably to hold Professor Membrane’s faceplate. Zim has seen much in his lifetime. He’s seen how cybernetics could replace almost anything but it was always visible if something is unnatural. Yet, Professor Membrane’s face, or at least his prosthetic, was good enough to fool Zim.
It was better than a hologram, that only mimics and changes appearances visually. It was something turned physical. Zim should feel disgusted, but instead he was more amazing than Zim could ever imagine.
The Professor’s technology was even more intertwined with his biology than Irken technology is with Irken bodies. While almost everything is genetically enhanced or modified, the mechanical aspect of Irken’s only constitutes their Pak, which is located outside of their bodies, attached to their spine.
“Love, speak. Do I scare you?” When he talked, his voice projected out from his throat. He had a voice box implanted. His tongue and lower jaw aren’t enough to make the appropriate vocalizations.
It was at that moment that Professor Membrane tried to cover up his gruesome anatomy with his faceplate but Zim stopped him. Before he could attach his face back on, Zim snatched his prosthetic.
Zim says in a low tone, or as low as he could try, he still sounds loud.
“No, you don’t scare me. Your current appearance doesn’t even disgust me. Instead, you intrigue me. I’ve never seen a human like you before.”
“In fact! Everyone else is disgusting compared to you.” He said louder, almost giddy-like.
“You’re brilliant! A genius worthy of Zim even! You merge technology so wonderfully, I want to see more!” There was audible excitement when Zim spoke.
“Zim, you don’t have to attack me with compliments. Is that really what you think?” Professor Membrane whispers, it’s hard to talk without his prosthetic. He uses a voice box but the movement of his artificial lip over his real lip was enough to make him believe that he is producing sound the natural way. It hurts.
Zim is studying the face prosthetic Professor Membrane designed. It was animatronic. The movement was controlled with nanotubes and circuitry connecting to small motors. If Zim wasn’t concerned about offending Professor Membrane, he’d rush to his underground labs to study it.
He feels a surge of affection, this is his human, no one else’s but Zim’s. Even other aliens don’t compare to his partner. Some were even too stupid to be alive, but somehow they live.
“Don’t be foolish, foolishness doesn’t suit you. You know that I adore you.” Never has Zim uttered something so soft before.
“I love you for your mind,” he kisses his lover’s forehead, “your strength,” he kisses his lover’s robo arms, “your height,” he kisses the hair scythe, “and everything else about you.” he leaves a big kiss on Professor Membrane’s prosthetic and Professor Membrane’s lower jaw.
Professor Membrane was stunned, his lower jaw dropped down and his electronic eyes emitted an even brighter glow. Zim hands Professor Membrane the prosthetic.
“Now cover up your holes before the germs invade you. I will not be having my lover be sick due to some pathetic Earth virus.” Zim looks at his lover. If he could, he would kiss the Professor’s soul, so only Zim would remain in the scientist’s heart.
Professor Membrane, places his face plate on with a ‘click.’ He lifts Zim up in his arms as he stands from his kneeling position. Zim shrieked as his feet lost contact with the ground.
“I was right to love you, Zim!” The Professor was gleeful.
“You’d be stupid if you rejected me.” Zim’s smugness at being loved reached an all-time high.
Professor Membrane twirled Zim above his head and hugged him close.
“You remember how I said that I never showed this to my children?” Professor Membrane hummed into Zim’s wig.
“Yes?”
“Please don’t tell them.” The Professor begged. His request surprised Zim.
“The Dib really doesn’t know? Wonderful! You have nothing to fear! I’ll keep your secret. You must really love Zim then!” Zim laughed maniacally.
Zim was so euphoric, his legs were moving back and forth.
“I’m glad I showed this side of mine to you. I like to imagine that, if I had an actual face, it would look similar to my prosthetic.” The current richest inventor and researcher on Earth sounded defeated.
The feeling returned. The feeling called guilt. Here he is, in the arms of his lover. His lover who doesn’t even know that Zim is from an entirely different race, sent to conquer his beloved Earth. It was a heavy feeling.
Is Zim actually empathizing with this human? He feels wrong, dirty, for taking advantage of someone like Professor Membrane. It was like he was spitting at the Professor’s intelligence.
There is no turning back from this relationship. At least, no way of turning back on his love. If Zim were to break things off, or just disappear, he’d end up with a broken heart. He still doesn’t know why it would hurt but just the thought makes his squeedilyspooch twist in angst.
He wants to continue whatever this is. He wants to feel light, feel acknowledged, feel loved. But if this really were mutual, then Zim would have to reveal his Irken self and be exposed as the enemy he is.
The Professor is still holding Zim up. He seemed content having Zim in his arms. Cuddling and nuzzling him. This is a comfort unmatched by any other.
Zim doesn’t want this to end, he’s ruined almost everything else good in his life. The Tallest haven’t contacted him in ages and the Massive and Irken fleets still remain missing. It’s lonely being the only Irken on Earth. Every other Irken is fleeing from the colonies they’ve conquered.
If Zim were to meet his demise, then he wouldn’t mind it being at the hands of his love, his equal. He breaks out of his lover’s grasp. He knows what to do.
“With all these secrets we’re sharing with each other, I believe that it is only fair for you to cast your eyes on my amazing self!” Zim acts confident, he can do confident, he can be cocky about his real looks. After all, he is handsome in all ways except height.
“Yes Zim, you are an amazing specimen.” The Professor looks at Zim fondly.
“You don’t get it! Focus more on my actual features. I know this disguise is amazing but you, as Zim’s equal should be able to tell where I differ from the rest!” Zim said angrily.
“Ok? Well, you have no visible nose or ears, you’re green and you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrow lifted up in confusion as he spoke.
“Yes, yes I know my attractiveness is intimidating. But do you think I’m too attractive? Out of this world even?” Zim expects him to say the truth. The full truth. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be the one to confess things.
“You’re the only I know who looks like you.” Professor Membrane doesn’t know what else to say.
“Don’t you think it’s strange? The Dib always accuses me of being an alien.” Zim is stalling. He hopes that the Professor will find out on his own, so Zim wouldn’t have to admit it.
“I know my son is a handful, I’ll tell him to be more considerate of your skin condition.” The Professor said, exasperatingly, he doesn’t know what to do about his son.
If Professor Membrane thinks that that is what Zim is asking for then he really needs to join a reading the atmosphere class. Professor Membrane can be really blind at times.
“NO! The Dib-beast is right! I’m an alien! I’ve always been an alien. I come from the planet Irk. What you saw a few months earlier was real.” Zim said it. He can’t wait for Professor Membrane to find out his identity, it might take decades.
He takes off his contacts, his wig, and his goatee and threw them to the ground.
“I’m the alien you fought that day!” Zim points to himself.
“Look at my pink solid eyes, look at these antenna. Don’t you think I’m an alien?” He becomes more frustrated as he pointed out each strange thing about himself.
“Oh Zim, don’t worry about your appearance, I’ll always find you attractive. Your eyes are lovely by the way. You don’t have to call yourself an alien.” Professor Membrane still refuses to see what’s right in front of him.
Zim tugs off his gloves and boots.
“I have three fingers! I have two toes! Is it getting into your brain yet? I’m an alien.” Does the Professor want Zim to degrade himself further? Should he perform a little song and dance to the tune of the Irken Empires anthem?
“Those things could be congenital defects. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to share your insecurities.” Professor Membrane’s attempts at being understanding are pathetic.
“Unless, you’re doing this because you hope to scare me off?” His voice takes on a worried tone, completely unwarranted in Zim’s opinion.
“You stupid, dumb, idiotic human!” Zim screams out.
Zim removes his shirt. He never intended to turn this into a sort of striptease, a term he learnt from a drunk guy who decided to ‘put on a show’ for more booze monies. Zim is glad that Gir dunked him in molten butter and popcorn because that display really disgusted him.
He drags the Professor down to have a seat on the floor and positions his Pak towards Professor Membrane. He also extends one of his spider legs. Hopefully, this will be enough to convince him of his extraterrestrial origins.
“Look at my Pak! Touch it with your robo hands! What you’re looking at is high quality Irken technology.” Zim is tired.
Professor Membrane is transfixed. He’s never seen something like this before. The Pak wasn’t stuck on superficially, it actually goes into Zim’s back. Studying it for a while, he realizes that it’s not made from materials found on Earth and it’s more advanced than anything he knows, something that shouldn’t be possible.
“I am a member of the Irken race. An intergalactic race who’s currently trying to take over the universe. I am an invader brought to Earth to take it over for Operation Doom II.
We modified ourselves biomechanically to be the ultimate species. The Pak you’re studying right now is where the entirety of Irken history and knowledge is contained. It is better than your human brains and computers. It holds my personality, my tools and my intelligence.” Zim explains.
“It holds all that information? You know the entire history of your race?” Asked an astonished Membrane.
“Several thousands of years of knowledge and more, regarding some other races and planets.” Zim didn’t think that Professor Membrane would focus on that, he thought he’d be held up on this conquering Earth thing he spewed out.
“Can you take up more information in your Pak?” The inquiries were calm, rational. As if Professor Membrane was doing a survey.
“Our Paks were designed to hold at least 1 billion years of storage.” That is a fact that still makes Zim proud of being an Irken, not many races can brag about having so much storage space.
In the scheme of things, 1 billion years is nothing compared to the expected lifespan of the universe, but it is more than enough for effervescent species like humans and Irkens.
Professor Membrane does the unexpected once again, he hugged Zim fiercely, ecstatically. Zim looked behind him, the stoicism of his prosthetic is nowhere to be found, an absurdly large grin was present on his face.
Was this a trap? His grin reminded Zim of the times Dib would smile before doing something horrible to Zim or before promising to do something horrible. That manic glint in Professor Membrane’s cyber eyes was heightened with the rapid closing and opening of his shutters, like a camera taking pictures.
Zim expected shock, Zim expected denial, Zim expected hatred or even understanding if things were more positive. But this elated expression on his lover’s face was something Zim did not expect. It was like he actually got the twelve cases of Uranium-38 from Santa on Christmas.
“Thank you Zim, I believe you. Without you I would’ve never had this chance.” Professor Membrane finally spoke out.
“What?” Zim asked.
“You’re amazing, Zim. Special. I’ll never regret meeting you.” The Professor was stroking his antenna in an overly possessive manner. This aggressive petting was something Professor Membrane never did. If Zim had any sensation on his one special, not defective, antenna, he’d be blushing from head to toe.
This really makes Zim wonder if Professor Membrane is planning to study his insides and dump him in a laboratory to be studied. But this time, Zim is prepared. He’ll face all sorts of tests, as long as he can stay by the Professor’s side.
This sort of devotion was only ever reserved for the Tallest though but they’re gone, possibly forever and the only leader Zim wants to have is Professor Membrane.
“Love-pig, I give you permission to use my body in whatever way you want.”
Zim accepted his fate, he willingly gives himself up for experimentation. He tries to break free from Professor Membrane’s vice grip to face him. It’s hard to have this discussion with his back against Professor Membrane’s chest.
The Professor paused his ministrations. Zim feels a sudden spike in Professor Membrane’s heartbeat and temperature.
“Zim, what do you think I’ll be doing with you?” The Professor is bashful. He doesn’t want any more misunderstandings between them.
“Aren’t you going to strap me on a table and use your various tools on me?” Zim was puzzled.
Professor Membrane still looks at Zim confusedly.
“I’ll let you cut me up but I’ll tell you where it’s safe to cut open because I still enjoy living and I expect to remain alive in your care until you can’t learn anything more from me. But don’t think it’ll be a short study! I am much more knowledgeable than you. I know more… knowledge!! than you. Things you humans can’t even begin to imagine!” He made his peace.
“Oh. NO! No Zim. I would never experiment on you like that!”
Professor Membrane’s outcry was unexpected.
“You’re more than anything I could ever dream of. You’re the answer to my loneliness.”
Was that it? Was Professor Membrane simply impressed with Zim’s true self? Was he in awe of Zim? The Professor might have reacted the same way if he met any other Irkens but it doesn’t matter to Zim. It is Zim Professor Membrane is reacting to, and not anyone else.
“Yup! Zim is the best! Too bad you’re a pitiful human and not a superior Irken.” Zim is back to his confident self.
“Let me apologize Zim. Please forgive me. I know you told me to trust you, but I haven’t been completely truthful.”
The Professor shrinks into himself, he’s ashamed.
Zim is more surprised. What else could Professor Membrane be hiding? Is it something on his body? While Zim was shirtless, gloveless and bootless, Professor Membrane still has his full coat on, only with the upper part undone. It’s not fair.
“I guess I should reveal my full self as well.”
He removes his face plate again, but instead of seeing the insides of a human head, there’s a hole. A black hole. Dark in colour. Not even his eyes remained.
Zim looks in. He sees everything and nothing, he sees the beginning and the end of humanity. He’s experiencing bliss but agony as well. There is so much information being downloaded in Zim’s Pak that it’s whirring frantically, trying to compile and organize everything. It was a sight he’s never seen before. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking at to be honest.
It’s addicting. He watches the smooth black void swirl with light splotches of what appears to be stars. There are nuclear fissions happening. It was like Professor Membrane contained a small galaxy on his face, with a black hole as its centre.
If Zim were sane he’d have lost his sanity but all he could feel is delight instead of horror. His scientific side is curious, he wants to know what, why, how it’s even possible.
Zim knows he should feel terrified. He’s dealing with something other, something inhuman. Professor Membrane is no ordinary being. He is like one of those Lovecraftian gods that humans make fiction of.
“Can I touch it?” He can’t call it a face, it held too much to be a face.
“Yes, but be careful,” Professor Membrane’s voice emitted from the void.
Zim briefly wonders what happened to the modifications Professor Membrane made. He hopes they’re not gone forever, it’s another part of his lover that Zim has learnt to cherish already.
Zim reaches for Professor Membrane’s actual ‘face,’ his hand gets sucked in. Terror filled Zim as he struggles. He’s afraid he’s being sucked in to be consumed by the void. Maybe Professor Membrane will consume him after all?
Before he can be pulled towards the centre of the hole, arms surround him and he is being held in place. Today is not the day Zim dies.
“Zim! I told you to be careful!” that voice appeared again. The voice of Zim’s daydreams and fantasies. Professor Membrane is still with him. Zim forgot for a moment.
“Hah! Don’t be silly my love! Nothing can beat the Almighty Zim!!!” He’s come down from whatever kept his mind in the clouds.
While being fastened by Professor Membrane, Zim decides to reach his arm out. Self-perseverance is a trait that Zim possesses but sometimes, he just wants to act out his impulses.
He feels something squishy and wet. Zim grabbed whatever that was. When he retracted his hand, he discovers that he’s holding onto a baby octopus. He puts it back in to grab something else. A teacup filled with hot tea. Typical. This time he doesn’t put his hand back in, giving the tea to Professor Membrane.
“What’s all that inside you?” Zim asks, he shrugs off the weirdness, it’s an ordinary Tuesday for him. A turbulent Tuesday but still a Tuesday.
“The combined knowledge of mankind.” It’s uncanny hearing Professor Membrane’s voice.
“What are you anyways?” If his lover isn’t a human, then Zim could gleefully continue their relationship without feeling too much guilt.
“I still like to consider myself as a human.” That dashes Zim’s hopes but considering Professor Membrane’s credentials, he’s still proud of being able to call himself Professor Membrane’s lover.
“But a human who’s been in existence as long as mankind has been. I don’t remember my origin, if I were to imagine myself as a child, it would be how I currently am, only smaller.” It was hard for Professor Membrane to admit that he’s forgotten important parts of himself.
“Irkens are only alive for a millennia of your human time.” It hurts Zim to realize this.
He always expected that he’d outlive his partner when the time comes but it might actually be the other way around. He doesn’t want to think more on it. He wants to move away from that topic.
“Is Professor your real name?” Zim has found out that Professor is a title, like Frylord or Invader or even Tallest is. So he was confused when looking at Professor Membrane’s documents to see that Professor is written as his first name.
“I’ve been called many things throughout my existence but the name that sticks out the most is Thoth.” Professor Membrane reflects back. That was something he can remember.
“Anyways, I want to discover more and your existence made me realize that mankind has restrained my full potential.” The Professor said.
Delight fills Zim. Is Professor Membrane willing to turn his back on humanity?
“With you telling me about your extraterrestrial origin, I was able to find proof of the existence of life in other worlds. The probability always existed but I never had any concrete evidence.
And the knowledge humans collected on space is so insufficient that they don’t really tell anything. Other information, like what Dib usually talks about, can be easily considered as hoaxes, quick to exit the minds of the populace.” He continued saying.
Every dismayed admittance of the inadequacy of humans and their discoveries makes Zim happier and happier.
“There are still many things to discover, that’s why I became a scientist, mankind’s knowledge is limited and information found can easily be lost forever.” Professor Membrane concluded his little speech.
Humans really are pitiful. Zim wished he could have landed on Earth ages ago, to forge a path for faster development. Hmm. Maybe he should consider doing it now, with Professor Membrane by his side.
“You’re not keeping anymore secrets from me are you?” To count, Zim has been shocked an entirety of three times in the span of this date. He checked the time with his Pak. Two and half hours have passed. This makes for a surprise every 50 minutes.
“No more secrets, my love.” Professor Membrane places his prosthetic back on his face. Zim sees the moment the void disappears and dissipates to turn back into the fleshy opening.
“We both showed our true faces to each other.” Zim said. His trust in the Professor is absolute. They’ll never have to hide themselves ever again in each other’s presence.
“We did. I’m glad we did. Thank you Zim.” The voice came out of Professor Membrane’s mouth, where voices are supposed to come out from.
Inspecting Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic, Zim acknowledges that he loves all of Professor Membrane’s faces. His kissable lips opened to say something. Zim wants to punch himself for thinking that way.
“You’re the only one to survive seeing my true self. Everyone else died from brain hemorrhaging or lost their minds to never recover.” He said nonchalantly.
“Good! Give Zim all the praise!” Zim takes any chance he can get to be praised. “And all the kisses!! Those were nice.” Professor Membrane delivers a quick peck on the lips.
“You deserve all the kisses from me,” Professor Membrane agrees, “I had a wonderful date.”
A realization hit Zim. Date night still didn’t end. And when date night continued after dinner, it usually meant that they would be spending time tinkering and working on one thing or another.
“Let’s work on making your prosthetic move smoother. I have just the right Irken tech to show you in my other working area. You’ll love it.
I modified it of course to make it less stupid but it should give you a fully functional ugly human face with feelings. It’ll hide your beautiful insides unfortunately but that’s living on Earth for people like us.” Zim rambled on, already thinking up of different things to do.
“Does it look anything like your disguise?” Professor Membrane loves Zim but a fake goatee, a wig and contacts don’t make for a good disguise, he confessed to himself.
Oh dear. Dib was right. Zim’s disguise was bad. Dib was also right about Zim being an alien. Professor Membrane promises to himself that he’ll believe his son more from now on.
“What? Unfortunately no! All the other disguises hid way too much of my handsomeness and it would be a disservice to everyone for me to hide it!”
Zim went on a tirade, “The Earth will be even more MORE sadder and uglier if I looked exactly like you humans. Gross. Be happy you get to see my full handsomeness in my true Irken self. There are many who don’t get the opportunity that you have.”
Zim gestures to himself. He’s still half-dressed. Professor Membrane hands Zim the rest of his outfit before things turn awkward. After dressing quickly, Zim once more is leading Professor Membrane by the hands into his labs, the cooler ones with all the alien tech.
‘Zim, never change, my lover from the stars.’ Professor Membrane thinks to himself fondly, as he is being led away. His various faces may not allow for much expression but he is smiling internally, full of love.
44 notes · View notes
redrobin-detective · 5 years
Text
Ugly Pictures are worth a Thousand Words
“Children, come here, it’s time for our family photo,” Professor Membrane said, his voice resounding through the house. “I promised your grandparents I’d show off my new green son.”
“We don’t have grandparents,” Gaz said, not looking up from her game but she did have a nice bow in her hair for the occasion.
“And I realized that you children were suffering for it so I got you some new grandparents, related in some way to your brother Junior,” Membrane said with a deep laugh. Gaz hummed and continued with her game. “Boy Child! Green Child! Your presence is being requested! And by requested I mean d̶̥e͢m̬̦̣͉̘͓a̫̤n͎̣͖͠ͅd̗̩͓̪̟̗͡e̛͖̠͔d̹͝ͅ ͕̯͕̗̀”
“Daaaaaaaaad,” Dib screamed, running down the stairs with his arms behind him like some sort of anime ninja. “I am telling you that Zim is an alien, I mean look he’s not even pretending any more.” He screeched, pointing over at Zim who wandered into the living room with his beady red eyes and absentmindedly scratching at one of his antennae while he slurped down a soda. “You have to see he’s an alien now.”
“Dib,” Membrane said in a way that was both gentle and chastising. “We’ve talked about this, just because someone looks different than us doesn’t mean we can call them aliens. I’m sure your brother came into this country perfectly legally.”
“Oh I did, surely, yes, so many magnificent forms,” Zim nodded before turning to Dib with a smug expression. “I decided that I shouldn’t have to hide myself from my BELOVED FAMILY so I did away with my contacts and wig while at home. Now I am free to just be my glorious, handsome self,” Zim explained, draping one arm over Gaz’s shoulder. She hissed and Zim yelped and recoiled back sharply. 
“See? Nothing supernatural about it, I’m so happy you’re feeling more comfortable in your green skin, Junior,” Membrane said, patting Zim’s head. The alien preened.
“It’s Zim by the way, Ziiiiiiiiiiiiim,” the alien explained far more gently than he did with any other humans but no other humans petted him so fondly like Father Membrane did. 
“I’m sorry son, your foreign name is too difficult for me to say and besides, Junior fits you best since you’re clearly blessed with my supreme intelligence,” Membrane explained, gathering the three children in front of him.
“It’s three letters, the same as these other filthy worm babies,” Zim continued but was ignored as Membrane hummed while straightening out Gaz’s bow and lifted Dib onto one of his shoulders. “Hey! Why does the Dib Brother get the honor of ascending to your lordly height?” 
“Because your poor insane brother was hyperventilating and I thought maybe the improved air quality would do him good but fear not, Junior for I have two shoulders!” The professor said leaning down to pick up Zim placing him on the opposite shoulder.
“Dad! Don’t let him up here! He’s probably going to put alien mind warping parasites in your brain!” Dib hissed, leaning over his father’s shoulders to glare at his adopted brother. 
“I would never disgrace my Lord Membrane Father by something so base as ear worms! He is worthy of at least some sort of hypnotic brain fungus,” Zim sneered back, batting away Dob’s hands. 
“Boys, boys,” Membrane sighed, pulling them back and straightening them out on his shoulder. “We can all have fun debating Horrible Mind Control Methods once we take this picture. I know it’s difficult for siblings to get along, especially siblings with such different backgrounds but, as your father, I’d appreciate it if you two would cooperate just long enough to take a nice picture for your recently acquired grandparents.” Both Zim and Dib grumbled a bit in shame and turned away from the other.
“Zim will honor your request Tallest Father Sir”
“Yeah, yeah just take the stupid picture already”
“Marvelous, CameraBot900! Prepare to capture forever on film this darling picture of me and my three beautiful children. The world must see how perfect and beautiful they are, even if they are green or insane.” The floating camera was making funny faces to provoke smiles from the three children, none of whom actually smiled. “Hmm, perhaps we should get that strange green dog in the photo as well...”
GIR squealed as he raced down the chimney and opened his mouth to swallow the CameraBot. The poor machine wailed as it was swallowed whole and then became mercifully silent. The little robot let out a little burp. “That tasted like bananas.”
“Oh NO,” Membrane shouted, falling dramatically to his knees almost causing the two kids on his shoulder to topple off. “Now how will we have our special family photo? HOW??”
“It’s okay, I found this camera I was using to take pictures of my butt,” Gir said holding up a very worn and dented camera.
“Hey that’s MY camera, I’ve been using it to catalog all Zim’s alien activity!” Dib yelled while Zim nodded and chuckled under his breath.
“You have saved the day, chartreuse canine,” Membrane shouted, jumping back to his feet. “Please set the camera up and join us in this marvelous family photograph.”
“WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” GIR giggled pushing various buttons on the camera before running over and jumping into Gaz’s arms. The motion caused her to drop her game devious as she now had an armful of robot dog. Dib was shouting at Zim about controlling his alien menace and Zim was shouting back about how he wasn’t being sensitive to all of GIR’s needs. The camera clicked several times as the whole scene descended into chaos. Gaz was soon off chasing GIR who was running rampant through the house and the boys were out the front door, soon wrestling dramatically on the front yard. 
Membrane sighed and went over to look at the photos. None were what you would call refined or even halfway decent. But he had discovered long ago that families, like science, are messy and oftentimes ugly. But just because something is ugly on the outside doesn’t mean it doesn’t still bring joy to those closest to the situation. He paused on one particular shot that was full of craziness and emotion and nonsense, in other words, it perfectly encapsulated his family.
“I believe this is the photograph that I will send to grandparents Red and Purple and an extra copy will adorn my desk,” he muttered proudly. Outside, Zim was shrieking in agony as Dib brought out the hose and Gaz was sitting on top of a squirming GIR as she resumed her game. Truly all was right in the world if the whole family could get together and take horrible, ugly photos.
35 notes · View notes
30millionkruge · 7 years
Text
I was tagged by @booksgivemelifeiswear thank you so much!! :)
Rules: tag 20 blogs you’d like to know better
Nickname: smacky (don’t even ask lmao it’s a long story) and a bunch of others that I’m blanking on Zodiac sign: cancer  Height: 5′7″  Last Thing You Googled: Mars the Bringer of War by Gustav Holst (I had a band assignment okay??? I’m not that big of a nerd okay actually I take that back lmao) Favorite music artist: tbh... I have no idea I like a lot of different music (band music being my favorite so... it’s hard to specify an artist)  Song stuck in my head: Mannin Veen by Haydn Wood (I’m playing this at NEC, look it up it’s super pretty!!) Last Movie you watched: tbh............. the first Ice Age movie lmao IT’S WAY FUNNIER THAN I REMEMBERED What are you wearing right now: a sweatshirt and leggings Why did you choose your URL: because I love soc.... if you couldn’t tell..... Do you have any other blogs: yeah I have a pretty trash blog that I don’t go on very often but it’s mostly humor ig it’s @plutocats What Did Your Last Relationship Teach You: be careful who you trust Religious Or Spiritual: neither, although people should be able to safely be either or both and I fully support all religions and/or spiritualities even if I’m neither religious nor spiritual! Favorite Color: royal blue it’s so pretty Average Hours Of Sleep: honestly like 6 lmao it’s kinda bad Lucky Number: 18 Favorite characters: Kaz Brekker, Nina Zenik, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, OKAY JUST ALL OF THE SOC CHARACTERS TBH, Eragon Shadeslayer, Will Henry from the monstrumologist, as well as Pellinore Warthrop from the same series, Cassie Sullivan from The 5th Wave.... I could go on forever  How Many Blankets Do you Sleep With: 3 I love blankets okay Dream Job: probably something to do with law, like being a lawyer or something I love debates and arguing and stuff I get way too into debates at school
@tamar-kir-bataar @sucker-for-six-of-crows @aglionbytrash @zim-the-jedi-master @trashcant13 and anyone else who feels like it!!! I’m blanking on people to tag lol 
3 notes · View notes
diefakekalvingarrah · 4 years
Text
Addressing all my Factives
Okay first and most importantly Garrett Watts. Garrett Watts was actually one of my very first alter to introduce themselves to me. He was like hey I exist! He went to a period when I first met him where he was like No! I’m not a factive I’m a fucktive! And I was like huh? Basically it’s when you’re not a factive nor a fictive but something inbetween. He’s not a fucktive, he’s definitely a factive we were just in denial because we didn’t like the idea of factives. But water you gonna do. Garrett is amazing. He’s such a blessing to my system. He makes us so happy in really intense times, usually when we get overwhelmingly angry, he comes in and diffuses things with his funny ways.
Kurtis Conner next. This isn’t in order of when they split, but rather the least to the most problematic how about that. Anyway, Kurtis Conner is wonderful. He split pretty recently around the same time as PEIII. He’s lovely. Not much more to say he’s pretty surprisingly dead on for the real Kurtis Conner. He’s pretty chill about factive stuff. He’s understanding and he’s just like whatever y’know.
ASIA! I hate Asia. Asia is definitely a persecutor although I’m not a big fan of those kind of labels but I still think they’re necessary. Her full name is Asia Herrera. Asia is modeled after an ex friend of mine of the same name. Asia was a really really crazy toxic and emotionally abusive and manipulative person. She was a major shit bag. We knew each other and were friends for five years before I finally blew up at her and told her everything I felt and then we cut off. But I was really attached to her at that point so when we “broke up” it really hit different and to cope, Asia split off as an alter. She’s meant to bring me comfort and like,, what’s the word for when you come to terms with something? Whatever that is. That’s her whole point. She definitely didn’t for awhile and only made me feel worse and caused a lot of problems, but she did eventually. I still don’t like her though. I have a few prosecutors and persecutors, and the only ones I would ever confidently say I hate and wish had never formed are her and JJ and that’s it. 
Moriah Elizabeth is a pretty recent split. Don’t look her up or you’ll make fun of me, let me just tell you her deal and you take my word for it okay? okay. It’s dumb. You’ve probably never heard of her because as far as I’m aware none of my followers are seven years old nor mothers of little babies. Moriah Elizabeth is a YouTube well known for making art and crafting related content aimed towards stereotypical little girls. Just a lot of unicorns and rainbows and sprinkles and glitter. Her main gig is a series called “Squishy Makeover” where her child fans send her their old fucked up squishy toys and she fixes them and makes them new and interesting. And she has the maturity level of a little elementary school girl. Uh. Anyway. Yeah. She’s amazing. So Teter, resident little, went though a pretty rough patch of nonstop stuck fronts and tantrums when her favorite caretaker alter (Denis, RIP) integrated. And during that time her favorite thing to do to distract herself was watch Moriah Elizabeth and SimplyNailogical (with Zim because he loves that channel for some reason?) and videos of independent music producers because it reminded her of Denis. Anyway. Moriah developed and took on a very motherly role in taking care of Teter and making her feel better, kind of replacing Denis. She’s a blessing. And my god she paints on fucking everything.
Okay let’s get the obvious one out of the way. Kalvin Garrah. Oh Kalvin. Kalvin Kalvin Kalvin. Fuck you. So I developed Kalvin maybe two years ago?? I was having a mad hard time with my dysphoria and I would watch his videos religiously smh. I was a giant fan and took his advice for trans men as gospel. I was such an asshole haha. Anyway, when he inevitably formed, he kind of soaked up a lot of my dysphoria and gender related trauma. I thought he was a good alter! I was like oh cool! This absolute chad is gonna held guide me on being a Real Boy™️ like my own little SQUIP or sum. Yippee. And y’know he kind fo did for awhile. Ad everything was peachy. But then, I grew up! And I developed a personality of my own and became my own person and realize I’m not just some stereotypical manly man nor and I 1000% male either. And now he despises me. He always kind of did. But whatever. He hates me. And he made me feel like shit for exploring my identity for a long time. But, as a system, we figured out how to deal with him and make him a little better, and now I’m fine with him. We get along like brothers, which is to say sometimes we get along. 
Okay so before I talk about the next two, I want to mention the fact that I have this issue, and I don’t know if there’s a name for it, but I tend to get very obsessed with certain people I will hyper fixate on these people and try to worm my way into their lives one way or another. I’m pretty good at being a people pleaser and being about to understand exactly what people want and then become that without separating myself too much from myself. The people I become obsessed with I will go to crazy lengths to get into every facet of their lives. I’ll follow them, I’ll follow their friends, I’ll follow their families, I’ll save everything and log it all in one place, I’ll pretend to be people they know and figure out their pasts, I’ll learn whatever I can and just obsess over it. I don’t know. It’s only really extremely happened with four people, but minority with some others. SORRY I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW SHIT IS WRONF WITH ME OKAY YOU FOLLOWED YOU READ THE CARRD MOVING ON
Mars! Yahoo! So I won’t linger on this for long because Mars is very easily triggered to front, and doesn’t like being talked about. Mars (aka NyadChild now @nyadcircus ) formed during the height of the whole dysphoria debate back when he was the poster child of tucutes and trenderism . Lovely. I looked up to him ( not really at the time but when he formed I was a fan ) and I was kind of obsessed with him. Oops.
Ash! Okay! So ash, lovely ol ash I’ve been getting into a bit of a heartbreaking dram with you my lovely ash. Idk if someone’s gonna rat me out to you but whatever I’m gonna continue regardless. I won’t leave an @ so no one CAN rat me out. So ash is an influencer I guess? A nonbinary sworker who I FOUND through instagram way back and have been following for the longest time. And like a product of being obsessed with someone is checking their account obsessively. I’ve made so much fan art and little snippets of what could eventually become fanfic. That I’d never show anyone. I’ve had like six dreams about them? Maybe I’ll talk about them someday. It really ties into religious stuff too so it would be worth discussing. ANYWAY. I’m super enamorado con Ash, but not really a romantic or sexual attraction. It never is. Just a hyper fixation I dunno. I downloaded that ONE youtube video they made that one time a million years ago back when they were in the hospital and I’ve watched it so many times I practically have it memorized. Shut up get back to the point. Ash developed as a factive! Inevitable! But my ash factive is lovely. They’re really nice and pretty accurate and close to reality, aside from the weird one off fact that they use she/her tambien and I’m pretty sure Ash doesn’t considering I once used she/her for them and they called me out for it my bad. Whatever I’ll leave it at that I’lll leave a note for our ash to post sometime we’ll see moving on
Here’s an honorable mention before I get into the worst one of them all. Twiggy Ramirez! He went dormant some time ago. Out of all my factive and fictive, he was the most crazy unlike the real Twiggy Ramirez. And I’m pretty positive it was because he was modeled less after the actual Twiggy, but more after this guy that kinned Twiggy Ramirez that I was deadass obsessed with way back in 2014. I knew literally everything about that kid, I knew what school he went to I knew who his friends were, I knew every single social media he ever had even the super secret ones I managed to follow by pretending to be his friends, and at one point I even found his exact location on google maps and through that found his home address and his separated father’s home address, not to mention I learned everything about his abuser. I never ever spoke to him, nor attempted to get close to him at all. I never did anything with this info mind you and I never planned to. I was just obsessed with him and that ended eventually.
Alright!!! The best one! Rachael! Rachael Stair! AKA Randy Stair! AKA ANDREW FUKCING BLAZE. Sound familiar? Yeah look it up I won’t go into detail because I literally hate having this alter and I’m so ashamed of her but like she’s done so much for me and I appreciate her very much as a protector but not so much as the IRL equivalent. Shut the fuck up. Just don’t talk about it.
0 notes
salty-dracon · 5 years
Text
ace hang plays noctis umbra part 3
SINS OF ANGELS | Noctis Umbra Part 3 | Ace Hang Plays Otome
(Yes, they do have semi-serious titles when shit hits the fan)
Last time on Ace Hang Plays Otome: 
Lily: Wow, he’s UGLY. How the FUCK is this guy a SUCCUBUS he’s UGLY
Brid: Well, technically he’d be an incubus. Because he’s a guy. 
Lily: That doesn’t change the fact that he’s UGLY
Brid: Maybe he radiates some kind of.... hot energy-
Lily: THE. ONLY ENERGY. THAT FUCKER RADIATES. IS CATCALLING YOU FROM HIS 2002 HONDA CIVIC WHILE WEARING A TWO YEAR OLD SWEAT-COVERED WIFE BEATER ENERGY. 
Brid: You don’t-
Lily: HE LOOKS LIKE A GIJINKA FOR THE WORD DOMESTIC ABUSE
---------
Lily: Hey, everyone! Ace Hang here! I’m Lily!
Brid: I’m Brid! 
(Val and Arthur pop in from the sides) 
Val: I’m Val!
Arthur: And I’m Arthur! 
All: And we’re playing Noctis Umbra Chapter Two! 
Brid: Yes, that’s right! The whole gang’s here and together for a nice round of otome! 
Val: It’s summer vacation, and our Minecraft 1.14 series will be up as soon as 1.14.2 is out, just so all of the bugs are ironed out. We’re planning to play multiplayer and do experiments to keep all of your spirits up. 
Lily: I’m super excited. 
Arthur: Yeah, same. We’ve got tons of plans! 
Brid: But for now, Noctis Umbra Chapter 2 is out, and when we last left off, we learned that Valerius was lying to us again. 
Lily: Also our dad is ugly and evil. 
Arthur: Rana is a queen. 
Val: Thor was there...?
Brid: .... Yeah, basically. Let’s get back to the action! 
--------------------
Lily: A Kapre. A stalker.... Do you guys know anything about that? 
Val: Capre.... Caper... 
Brid: Oh, Capra demon. Remember that 4chan post? 
Val: Oh yeah! 
Arthur: ...? 
Lily: Super sexy demon or something. In the post he had a goat skull head. Wonder what this boi’s gonna look like. 
Arthur: He’ll either be adorable or ugly.  
(Efren appears) 
Lily: ffffFFWAHAHAHA WHAT IS THAT
Brid: That is not what I was expecting. 
Arthur: I was expecting like, James Bond, not a guy in a mohawk wearing a Minecraft shirt! 
Val: Wow. Holy shit. Oh my god. He looks like a cis guy decided to dress like a  fucking drag queen for Halloween without knowing what a drag queen was. He looks like someone who unironically enjoys Kingdom Hearts and somehow mixed in a shitty hacker aesthetic. He looks like a 30 year old virgin who also runs a gaming channel that relies on clickbait for income. He looks like a guy cosplaying as his own My Hero Academia OC. He looks like-
Brid: Okay, that’s enough. 
Lily: He looks like that one Invader Zim character watches anime all day in his basement-
Brid: Stop it. Anyway, looks like he’s with the enemy... and wants to recruit us... and give us cookies. 
Lily: Cookies. Om nom nom. 
-----------
Lily: WAHAHA they’re good cookies. 
Brid: I love the little package of cookies on her lap. 
Val: Seriously, I’d kill a guy who gave me too many cookies, though. At 3am. Every day. 
Lily: “You’re just grumpy because you’re hungry. You’re hangry.”
Arthur: “I am not hangry!”
Lily: “You sound hangry!”
Val: And Tae steals the cookies. And they’re good. 
------------
Val: You know, I’m glad the main characters are warming up to Tora. Not treating her like a kid. 
Brid: She’s learning high school chemistry, so I don’t think it’s out of the question that she’s at least fifteen. 
Arthur: Yeah. And MyDude is treating her very nicely. 
Val: Yeah. I’m glad. Like seriously, edgy war stories just... hate kids. Like, fuck the kids. Adults are the only ones that survive here. 
Lily: Yeah, it’s nice change of pace. EY, RANA! Look, Arthur. That’s my favorite character. 
Arthur: I see.
Val: Honestly, the whole Noctis Umbra crew is great. Except for Valerius. Fuck that guy. 
Arthur: I think he might have a reason for keeping those secrets of his, though. 
Val: This is coming from the same guy who actually trusts the rich kid in the other one they were playing. Fuck, I forget his name. 
------------
Val: “Ae-ri needs your help grocery shopping.”
Lily: I’m gonna be super surprised if it’s not like the South Asian market my parents visit for cheap spices. 
Brid: Seriously, what else do you expect from this game? 
.........
Brid: Yes, that’s the last place I expected to find a bunch of underworld denizens that are part demon or something. Going shopping at a grocery store. And not a South Asian market.
Lily: What, did you think they subsided on human energy alone? 
Val: I mean, Tae lives offa sweets. First he ate his sister’s cheesecake, then he ate those cookies, then he ate that pudding... he’s just got a big sweet tooth.
Lily: Oh, big mood, Tae. I like him. He and Keelan are so funny. Everyone’s just laying into him. 
Arthur: “That’s a lot of hot sauce...” 
Brid: I see we’ve got our own weird tastes... 
Val: Ha. Melons. Innuendos. 
Lily: Or Avatar reference. 
Arthur: ... 
Brid: What’s up?  
Arthur: Imagine- meanwhile in the aisle next door, Riley hits her teacher with a shopping cart!
Lily: That would be an amazing easter egg. Keelan’s looking for his paint, barely dodges a chaotic dumbass bisexual disaster, she immediately hits someone else who happens to be her teacher. 
Val: Said teacher was also hacking the grocery store’s WiFi with his phone, which proceeds to fall into the lobster tank. 
Lily: Not saying Riley wouldn’t do that. 
(Small animation with bad doodles)
Arthur: I imagine Keelan’s like... “Alright... broad paintbrush, purple acrylic paint... ” and he just hears screaming, and there’s Riley just narrowly missing him and slamming right into her teacher. 
Brid: You say that like she intentionally hit him. 
---------------
Val: OH GOD IT’S THE UGLY GUY!
Lily: Damn. That’s the first thing you fixate on?
Arthur: Oh boy. Something’s going down... 
Lily: Is Valerius here? Is that why she’s- Oh, hey Luca. 
Val: Oh my god, it’s Tall Evil Valerius. 
Brid: He’s so tall we can’t even see the top of his head. 
Lily: That’s funny, because I always imagined Valerius to be like, 5′4... 
Val: His name is “Aleron”. HOLY FUCK HE JUST KILLED LUCA
Arthur: OH MY GOD
Lily: WELL THAT’S NOT GOOD AT ALL IS IT
Brid: FUCKING DEAD. PRESS F. 
Lily: REMINDER TO HIT THAT F BUTTON IF YOU’RE ANGRY THAT LUCA JUST DIED
Brid: AND SHE JUST OMAE WA MOU SHINDEIRUS HIM
--------------
Lily: That feeling when you teleport the enemy leader right into your base. 
Val: Fucking seriously. The whole crew must be having aneurysms. 
Arthur: Ha. “I leave you alone for two seconds and you start a world war.”
Lily: Welcome back to another episode of “Man with half the facts in heated debate with man with zero facts”. 
(Meme appears on screen with the two men’s faces replaced with Leo and Valerius)
Brid: More like “Two men seriously think they know what’s right for the world as a whole based on flawed information”. 
Val: “Where’s her room?!” “She doesn’t have one.” “Where does she sleep?!” “The couch.” 
Brid: Get ready for Angry Father Rage. 
Val: “YOU LET MY DAUGHTER SLEEP ON A COUCH?!”.... DAMMIT why did the scene have to end there. 
Lily: So you wouldn’t have to yell at yourself?
------------------
Val: “Your mother loved heights too-” Sheesh, did she love jumping off them?!
Lily: Fucking hell. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what he meant, though. 
Brid: Yeah, this guy’s kind of an asshole, to be honest. 
Arthur: I guess with the whole unification thing, they need her. 
Lily: I love how she’s mad Aleron killed Luca because she wanted to punch him in the face. 
----------------
Val: Oh boy, things are heating up. So because of the prophecy, the demon kids are all uniting, and the angels wanna beat em back. And they took over a human organization to do it. 
Lily: Angels. It’s always angels. 
Brid: Do any of you like Valerius any more now? 
Val: NO. He’s kind of a dickhead. Still. 
Arthur: At least he’s telling us more. 
Brid: Yeah, very true. 
Val: Why does Valerius look at us and see everything right with Nocturnals? We’re an angry district attorney who sucks the life out of people with the power of Satan and anime. 
Lily: Angels. It’s always angels. 
Arthur: You said that. 
Brid: I did say I’d romance Valerius, so-
Val: WAIT I NEVER SAID I’D DO A KISS SCENE-
----------------
Lily: And with that, looks like we’ve reached the end of Chapter 3! What do you guys think? This is your first time playing with us, right?
Val: ... Why do I have to be rolled up in the politics of white men? 
Lily: Pretty sure Leo’s Latino. 
Val: Still. 
Brid: Politics, politics. I still do love the group dynamic between the Noctis Umbra crew, though. Not Valerius, just MyDude, Ae-ri... 
Arthur: Tae, Keelan, and Rana. Yeah. And whoever else I’m forgetting. They’re very cute together, and it kinda sucks that they’re dealing with the whole underground war thing, otherwise I feel like we’d get a lot of cute scenes with them. 
Lily: Very true. Any theories? 
Arthur: Remember when Valerius called MyDude Umbra? I think it’s because she’s the kid of both an angel and a demon. 
Brid: Oooooo. What do you have to back it up? 
Arthur: We don’t see much about her mother. Apparently she left her in an orphanage named after a saint. Also, Leo mentioned that the mom loved heights. Besides the jumping implication, it might mean that she’s an angel. Maybe one that couldn’t fly.
Lily: I think umbra does mean shadow, which evokes themes of both light and darkness, so it’s very possible. 
Brid: Interesting. Well, we’ve been recording for an hour, so I think that’s all the time we have for today. 
Lily: Sweet! 
Brid: Can’t wait to see where this story takes us next! And we’re planning our next playthrough to probably be either the next part of Oathbreaker, or Hatoful Boyfriend. 
Val: Make sure to like and subscribe for more content, and stay classy! 
0 notes
ngchicuong0189 · 6 years
Link
MDC-T legislator for Bulawayo South Eddie Cross has made sensational claims that the Zanu PF-led government has abducted at least 5,000 opposition party supporters since 2000.Cross was debating the Electoral Amendment Bill in parliament on Tuesday, where he urged the Emmerson Mnangagwa government to deliver free and fair election in the country.“In the past 17 years, I have been in the trenches in the opposition, and I can tell you – we have been beaten, killed, murdered in accidents and have had one person abducted per day since 2000.“Nearly 5,000 people of the MDC structures has been abducted, that is one person per day for 17 years,” Cross said while being heckled by Zanu PF MPs.He added: “My colleagues (Zanu PF) on the other side are claiming that I am not speaking the truth.Mr.Speaker, you know me better than that.“If my colleagues want a list of those people abducted, together with their identity numbers and dates on which they were abducted and what happened to them, I can provide them.“I am prepared to provide that list to the media and it is not mythological, but the problem is because of this sort of activity which is basically on attack on democracy.“The international community sees these activities, receive the reports from us and declare the election subsequently illegitimate.”The Zanu PF led government, under then President Robert Mugabe has been under fire for visiting violence against political opponents.2008 presidential elections The MDC-T claims nearly 200 of its followers were killed while thousands more were forced to flee their homes during the height of state sponsored violence that followed Mugabe’s shock defeat to bitter rival Morgan Tsvangirai during the first round of the Presidential election in 2008.President Mnangagwa recently claimed the 2008 elections were free and fair, inviting scorn from critics who accuse him of lack of sincerity in his attempts to restore lasting stability in a country that often slides into violent conflict during elections.Meanwhile, in his comments, Cross reserved praise for Mnangagwa for remaining steadfast when it appeared the odds were against him during the onset of Zanu PF’s internal fighting when Joice Mujuru still controlled a party faction.Cross also said he was shocked when he heard Mnangagwa insist Zimbabwe needed a free and fair election when the latter was still Mugabe’s deputy.“I remember in 2017, about the middle of the year, when I had a conversation with him and he said to me we have to have a free and fair election,” he said.“I was shocked because I felt that he had little chance of winning a free and fair election because he is opposed by everybody; G40, Joice Mujuru, now the Mugabes, MDC and despite that, he has stuck to his guns and I respect him for that enormously.“You can see the reaction of the international community already.“The flights from Johannesburg to Harare are full.You have to book a seat on a plane, two-to-three days in advance.I understand during the firs
0 notes