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harveyb-wabbit92 · 3 years

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Invader Zim: Elite Guardians AU Pt. 2

The following is a non-profit fan-based story, Invader ZiM is owned by Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon please support the official release, I gain no profit nor do I own anything other than OCs and whatever spouts from my imagination!

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A another month passed Zim started looking less like wrinkled worm and more like an Irken, Red and Purple were running low on money, Repairing the cruiser was getting more difficult, whenever they fixed something, another thing would break or scavengers would sneak in and take whatever wasn't bolted down, that's when the Elites came to the conclusion that maybe they should look for work. So they started bounty hunting for the local constabulary.

What choice did they have? if they were ever gonna get off this rock and find Cradle 2-117. Bounty hunting was the way to go, The Cruiser was a lost beyond repair, but there were a lot of ships for sale in Meeko; the problem was finding who was willing to sell a ship to them, The citizens were still cold towards them, Again. Neither Red and Purple could understand why? They soon got answer in the most unconventional way, they'd come back from a job, Some nut job thought it was good splice a giant spider with a squid and than super sizing it!

Red was shooting the thing with his Plasma gun while Purple striking it with his photon axe, meanwhile Zim was happily skipping around the battlefield, narrowly missing being crushed or shot at, Red noticed the smeet hopping around. "Zim! get out of the way!" Red dodges a tentacle swinging for him. "You're gonna get hurt!" He barked the smeet just stared at him blankly before smiling "Rwed!" he cheered waving at him, Red facepalmed. "Hi!" he waved back before going back to fighting, Zim went back to his little skipping game dodging death at every corner, only stopping when he saw a large beetle crawling around on the sand, the smeet crouched down just as Purple was thrown off the Squider and sent crashing into the wall behind Zim.

The purple eyed elite sat up with a groan; rubbing his head looked at Zim and did a double take when he saw the smeet eating a beetle, Purple jumped to his feet rushed over to the smeet trying to pry his mouth open. "Naw, no, no. Spit it out, spit out! c'mon!" he lightly slapped Zim's back and the smeet spat up bug guts Purple grimaced. "Disgusting!" he huffed giving the smeet some ration wafers and went back to helping Red fight, Zim calmly sat out of the way to eat and watch his 'Brothers' fight the monster, by the end of the battle Red and Purple were covered in ink and teal colored guts, and their wallets were a good chunk heavier, when they woke up this morning...

Later when they got back to the cruiser both Red felt something was off, there was scent in the air he didn't recognize at first he thought it was the Squider guts, but as they got closer to their wreck... it became more apparent that someone or something was in there, Purple noticed it too he and Red exchanged a look; the red clad elite set Zim down and shush him, the smeet copied him and nodded, Purple dispatched his PAK legs and went in from above while Red followed and hid in the doorway of the engine room, his first thought was it was just another scavenger looking for scrap, but by now everyone nearby knew this ship was occupied and stayed clear of it, Red peeked into the engine room and saw a hooded figure fidgeting around with the power core.

Red's eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look and saw this person reading off what looked like an engineering manual, he saw Purple getting into position, they could hear this person mumbling to themselves. "Okay... now shut down switch Y and detach port Q?...wait no, um..." the guards looked at each other and nodded, Purple jumped from the ceiling; landing in front of the intruder catching them completely off guard. "What the fu-" they saw the purple eyed Irken reach for a his stunned baton and panicked. "Shite!" they yelped and went to run only to get pistol whipped from behind by Red knocking them out.

Red and Purple were perplexed when they tied them up removed the intruders hood and made sure they didn't have weapons, they've never seen an alien like them before... they had this weird long stringy stuff on their head that was soft to the touch, but stood out out most of all was how tall they were... Both Irkens just barely came up to the intruder's chin. "Whoa! They're almost the same height as Tallest Miyuki!" Purple said stunned while Red shook his head. "No... Miyuki is definitely taller..." he insisted but then again they haven't seen Tallest Miyuki in months! So they couldn't exactly make a comparison.

While the two were prattled about Miyuki and the intruder's heights, neither noticed Zim wander in the smeet looked between the bickering Elites before noticing the stranger sitting against the wall. His pink eyes lit up as he curiously approached the unconscious alien, He saw the long fuzzy stuff on their head and immediately grabbed it and started tugging which roused the trespasser awake.

Red and Purple tenses at the unknown voice cut into their conversation they looked and saw Zim swinging off the alien's... mane? "Ow..ow! quit it! They try to jerked their head away from Zim's grasp. "Oww, Seriously kid stop it!" They growled Red snapped out of his stupor and quickly picked up Zim. "Don't talk to him like that!" He spat glaring at the intruder, who glared back their e/c eyes looked odd too, but Red was more focused on whether or not they were a threat or not.

"Who are you? What are you?" he huffed along with Purple butting in. "And why do you want our power core?" the alien winced a the purple one's shrill voice. " if I tell you will you untie me?" they asked hopeful, the Irkens were silent, and the intruder took their silence as a hard "maybe."

"My name is Y/n, I’m a human female, My ship crashed few clicks north from here, the power core was always little spotty, and it finally gave up the ghost. So I went out looking for a replacement, looked around Meeko and other crash sites, before finding a power signal that lead me to... I thought it was it was a derelict ship!"

"Does this ship derelict look to you?!"

"Well... yeah? I mean look around, your ship is in pieces! it'll obviously never fly again, I'm surprised your core was even intact!"

"How did you even get in? we have security measures!"

Y/n looked bemused before something clicked in her head, she cocked her head towards the front of the ship. "Oh! the giant hole in your hull, with the lasers and forcefield? yeah, I think your motion sensors and hard light generator is offline, I walked right through it" Purple looked like he was going to cry seeing as he was the one who rigged that forcefield up. " that and your front door was wi... was.." Your voice suddenly trailed off, Red and Purple watched your demeanor change as something caught your eye, it took a moment for Red to notice you were staring at the Irken symbol on their armor.

"Shite... You slaver scum!" both Irkens jumped back startled by your sudden outburst. "What are you planning to do with that kid?! huh? did you kidnap him too?" You growled Red and Purple looked at each other stunned. "What are you talking about?" Red asked you just glared him in disgust. "Don't play fucking coy with me! I’ve seen your damn ship going around ransacking outposts around the system and kidnapping people!" Red and Purple were at loss here, 2-117 was overtaken by Slavers? well, at least now they knew why almost everyone on Greedo was so hostile towards them!

There was a tense stare down between the trio, You watched as the two "slavers" got into a huddle, you heard the numbers "2-117..." being mumbled then Red one was saying something the Purple one disagreed with. "No, oh no no no! We're not taking in another stray!" the purple hissed vehemently. "She's the our ticket off this rock, we're doing it!" They turned to look at you.

"What?" you hissed as the Red clad alien silently handed the kid over to his Purple counterpart who glared at him, you tensed up as he walked up to you. "Calm down and just listen alright?" Red guy explained they’re not slavers, but Elite guards from Irk sent to investigate and retrieve a missing Nursery ship called Cradle 2-117 that had been skyjacked a few months ago, the only lead they have is Zim, who Red found malnourished and wandering around in a trash dump.... Now you.

You of course were bit skeptical about this whole situation, what with being tied up and all! but, then Purple told you to take a good look at Zim, the kid was same species as them: Irken. "How many other Irkens have you seen wandering the Tarn system?" You realized never, you have never seen an Irken in Tarn before, so maybe they were telling the truth? then Purple got you attention again "Where was the last place you saw that ship?" You paused thing back to were you saw the Irken ship, it wasn’t hard to forget considering how unique it looked.

"I think it was headed to Planet Nyree? that’s a two week journey from here." Both Irken elites looked each other hopeful, finally a real lead! "However I'd suggest getting a new ship, I don’t think this one will taking off anytime soon." They hear the ship groan as a panel falls out of the ceiling, landing a little too close to you then you'd like, Red looks at Purple whose shoulders slumped, knowing what was coming, You were confused as Red reach around behind you and untied you. "Okay! New plan, we need a ship and you need a power core, let’s make a deal..." and that's how you gained three new crew members aboard the Cardinal.

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #the almighty tallest #the tallest x reader #smeet zim #tallest red #tallest purple #tallest miyuki #tallest red x reader #tallest purple x reader #irken elite #elite guardians au

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rancoeur-the-unfortunate · 3 years

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Pills (Chapter 29)

(Hello everyone, Rancoeur here. I know it's been a while since I last updated this book and I am truly sorry about that. But it's been so long since I've seen Zim or have even read fanfics about it. So in a way I sorta fell out of love with it. This doesn't mean I'm going to stop updating this though. This book is a monument to how my writing has evolved over the years and is my pride and joy. I will finish it, even if it kills me. It will be awesome and I can't wait for it. Thank you for reading this and please accept this 3300-word chapter as my apology. I know it's a little short and I did want to add more stuff to it but then it just looked bloated and I didn't like that. I hope everyone is staying safe out there. Have a nice day.)

Monday morning, Dib slowly got out of bed and stretched as his alarm clock rang. The boy rubbed his eyes softly before grabbing his glasses from the nightstand and put them on his nose after turning off the said clock. He glanced outside, noticing the dark clouds coming in, and sighed.

"Already looks pretty gross out there," he muttered to himself before he started to get dressed for school.

Honestly, it felt weird to sleep on a bed after sleeping in a tent for a week. Aside from just being comfier it kinda felt... lonely. Like someone was missing.

The boy shook his head as he slid on his coat and began the trek downstairs to greet Gaz and his father. Another rare day of eating with the Professor.

"Hey dad, hey Gaz," he smiled a bit and went to the fridge to grab some juice. When he grabbed what he wanted he pulled back and shut the fridge, only to find his dad right behind him holding a new device to his head. He reeled back in surprise, "dad?!"

His dad smiled at him and waved him off, "no need to worry son, I was just testing out this new invention I'm making on you. Says here your serotonin levels are higher than usual. You must be in a good mood!"

Dib gave his dad a nervous smile and laugh before backing away to the table where his sister was eating with one hand while simultaneously playing her new game with the other.

"Yeah, you haven't mumbled about killing Zim all morning. What's wrong with you?" She spoke between bites of cereal.

"I don't know, I guess I'm just too tired to think about killing Zim," Dib shrugged as he poured himself a bowl.

"That's bull and we both know it. You talk about capturing Zim in your sleep, I can hear it in my room," Gaz tossed a glare his way before going back to her game.

Dib rolled his eyes, "whatever." He muttered as he began eating.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation in his chest.

Zim tentatively stepped out of his home. The Dib had told him that the skool children had already forgotten about the drugs, but he still felt fear. Like there were still eyes following him as he marched down the sidewalk. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to wash over him.

Eventually, the blocky, grey building came into view. A few children were loitering about, waiting for the bell to ring. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Zim just sat on a bench and waited alongside them. Only observing them slightly.

Humans were weird on Mondays, Zim had no idea why though. Something about that particular day of the week seemed to drain all of the energy from the weird meat bags. One kid looked like he was about to fall on his face from exhaustion.

Down the street, he spotted the Dib and his little sister. A part of Zim was fearful. Now that everything had gone relatively back to normal, would Dib go back to trying to expose him?

When the two entered the skool's grounds, they separated. Gaz went to sit on the steps, playing her video game. While Dib glanced about, when he looked his way, the human... smiled at him.

Causally Dib stepped closer and closer until the two were only a few feet apart. There was a moment of silence between them, both of them just staring at each other. It was obvious they both wanted to say something but neither knew how.

Eventually, Dib sighed and spoke a little quietly, "hey uh... can I sit here?" The boy gestured to the spot on the bench next to Zim.

Zim looked surprised for a moment before he crossed his arms and looked away with his usual snark before quipping a quick, "you may."

Dib chuckled to himself, "same old Zim." He said as he sat down beside the green alien.

With that, the two sat in silence once more, the two of them just looking down at the skoolyard. Humans shuffling about like zombies, waiting for something to happen. Eventually, Zim slumped out of his uptight posture and looked down in his lap, fiddling with his thumbs.

It was Dib who once again broke the silence, "so, what evil plan is it this time?"

Zim looked up at the human in surprise, "eh?"

"You know, to take over the world and all that?" Dib smirked and leaned close, "or did you forget your mission."

Zim immediately perked up and sneered in disgust, "of course not! And to answer your first question. WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW!" He shouted that last part accidentally as he pointed an accusatory finger at the boy.

Dib just laughed, clutching his stomach as Zim tried to regain his composure. Zim couldn't help but giggle to himself slightly.

"In all seriousness," Zim started once the two had calmed down. "I don't know... I know I have a mission. But at the same time, that mission was given to me by them." Zim found himself glaring at his own hands. He clenched them into fists.

"It feels so strange, to have a purpose one second only to realize that purpose was only given to you to get you out of the way. And now that I see past all their lies I... I don't know. I have no idea what I should be doing, or what my purpose is now or what I'm even still doing on Earth." Zim sighed and closed his eyes, he knew Dib was looking at him, either pitying him or laughing at his distress.

Instead, he felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Zim looked up at Dib who was giving him a comforting yet awkward smile before pulling his hand back and sitting properly.

"If we're being truthful right now I guess I'll be straight with you," Dib spoke as he laid back on the bench and looked up at the sky. "The main reason why I wanted to help you was because I was hoping you'd leave once you realized what your mission was." Dib hummed to himself.

"But now that you're off your drugs and ready to leave... I..." Dib paused, "Don't get me wrong, I still hate your guts." He huffed but then frowned, "but the thought of you leaving now... it just doesn't sit well with me." Dib admitted.

"Funny how the one I considered my worst enemy could become someone I might even call my..." Dib paused again and looked at Zim with an emotion ZIm couldn't decern, "friend."

Zim stared at Dib in complete silence, 'friend?' Dib smiled slightly before going back to looking at the cloudy sky.

Three minutes passed before Zim opened his mouth, "Dib I-" Before he could finish the ever-piercing sound of the bell rang, cutting him off. Simultaneously, Zim was both annoyed and grateful for the interruption.

"Well I guess we'll finish this talk some other time," the human spoke grabbed his bag, and got up. "I'll see you later Zim," Dib gave one last smile before waving goodbye and walking away towards the school building.

It was then that it hit Zim, he'd never seen Dib smile so much before. The boy seemed genuinely happy in Zim's company. It felt so strange, a foreign feeling, a feeling he hadn't felt since, "Skoodge."

Suddenly it felt like all the air had left Zim's respiratory organs and he fell to his knees on the ground. Tears were building in his eyes until eventually, the dam broke, and he started sobbing loudly. Trying and failing to gasp for air. His cardiac spooch felt like it was being squeezed like a stress toy. It hurt and Zim was just figuring out why.

All alone in the Skool courtyard, Zim was crying. Crying like a long-forgotten smeet. Eventually, the Irken just laid down on his side curled into a ball. How could he? What was wrong with him?! How could he have hurt Skoodge like that?! His best friend! His partner! His mate!

How could he have hurt someone so close to him, so one who had seen him at both his best and his worst?

The tears wouldn't stop.

Eventually, his thoughts went back to Dib, the human who even despite their mutual hatred for one another still sought to help him. To get him off those horrid drugs and saw him as a... a friend.

Suddenly it felt like time itself had stopped. A friend.

Zim had a friend. Quietly the little alien stood up and whipped his eyes. He found himself staring up at the sky, just as Dib had. The clouds seemed to have gotten darker, it was likely going to rain soon.

He should probably get inside-

A hand came out from behind him and covered his mouth roughly, cutting off his thoughts as he went into a panic. That was before it all went dark.

"So uh... what is it exactly?" Tallest Purple asked a hand on his chin as he inspected the strange being before him, keeping his distance of course.

"A Murthen, my Tallest, female, foot soldier class." The Doctor spoke, his back upright and arms tucked neatly behind his back as he gave a quick bow.

They all stood on the bridge of the Massive. The two Tallest were near the controls while the Doctor and his captive stood at the other end of the bridge. Behind the Doctor stood Skoodge, the little Irken was practically sweating bullets as he clutched Raz's egg. He kept his mouth shut, but every time he even glanced at the Murthen or her collar it felt like another ton of weight was added to his shoulders.

"A Murthen?" Tallest Red gave a confused and disgusted look at the blue figure, "ok...but what's it doing on our ship."

"I believe she will be a great help to our mission to subdue Zim. Despite her lower rank, she is incredibly capable and has experience in both war and combat.

"I mean, so did Tak," Tallest Purple crossed his arms.

The Doctor actually laughed and it was the most haunting thing anyone in the room had ever heard. "Oh, my Tallest, Raz here, is certainly no Tak, trust me."

"I don't even trust the way you just said trust me," Purple muttered in the background as Tallest Red stepped forward.

"Murthen, Murthen where have I heard that name before?" He squinted his eyes at Raz as Tallest Purple stepped behind him, "was it a planet we conquered."

"I assure you my Tallest, Murth most likely will never be claimed," the Doctor hummed.

'He seems so sure of himself,' Skoodge thought.

"Why's that?" Tallest Red asked skeptically.

"This is why," the Doctor spoke as he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

Before anyone had any idea what was going on, Raz raised her arm, showing a previously concealed weapon. She aimed it at one of the foodservice drones and fired and a blue beam-like laser shot out.

"AHHHHHH!!!" A scream ripped through the room as the service drone fell to the floor, the donuts he was carrying, splattering beside him. He had been shot in the lower abdomen and was clutching his melting chest in a frenzy. He was quite literally melting on the floor. Eventually, he fell silent as he collapsed on the floor, smoke coming off his body.

The two Tallest jumped back in fear, "WHAT IN THE US WAS THAT?!" Purple screamed.

"Show them," The Doctor gestured to the two with his head.

Raz held out the gun, displaying it in front of the two leaders. It was small and compact, not unlike the blasters the Irkens used. This one however was silver with a grey handle, on the sides of the round barrel were tempered glass that displayed a blue liquid.

"This is just a ground soldier-grade weapon. Yet it has the capabilities to destroy Irken armies. It's filled with a chemical compound known as H2O aka water. Due to our solubility when an Irken comes in contact with it, we tend to melt. However, that's not everything. The water is also mixed with a compound only found in Murthen waters, it is known as Gr4F8 aka Blue Gix. Mixed with water it lowers the boiling point to room temperature and creates energy in the form of light and heat. This creates the beam you just witnessed. This gun alone could destroy our entire empire and that's not even half of it." The Doctor nodded toward Raz and she lowered the gun.

"This is the kind of weaponry that can be expected on Murth, that is why we can not conquer it yet. I'm sure with a bit of studying we could find a way to make ourselves immune to this but until then. We'll just have to leave Murth unconquered. At the moment, however, I believe we should get back to the topic of Zim."

"R-right right, Zim," Tallest Red stuttered, trying to keep his composer. "Are you sure she's fit for the job?"

"Oh my Tallest, you have no idea," the Doctor smiled that irksome smile of his.

"Zim won't know what hit him."

The rest of the discussion seemed to fade out for Skoodge as he stared, wide-eyed at the dead Irken before him. He had just been shot, no warning, no nothing. He was just doing his job and he was shot and then forgotten about. Like his life meant nothing.

Already some of the cleaning drones had come over, collecting the body to be disposed of. Most likely going to be tossed out of the airlock like trash.

Skoodge looked to the egg in his hands, little Mur. Every time he looked at her he just felt more and more guilty. Her carrier was being controlled against her will and he was the cause of it.

Now he had to carry her around, an actual burden on his shoulders.

"Alright then, I guess it's settled, we'll be leaving the quadrant in a few hours to start heading for Earth," Tallest Red's voice cut into Skoodges thoughts and he felt panic run through him, that means they'll be leaving Murth and Raz's family.

Before Skoodge had a chance to voice his concerns, the Doctor was already leaving with Raz in tow.

Quickly Skoodge ran after them, once they were out of the bridge and in one of the Massive's many hallways he spoke up, "Doctor! What about the egg! There's no water on the ship!"

"Your pretty good at stating the obvious," the doctor hummed, not even bothering to look at him.

"B-but-"

"Look Skoodge, I already told you. If you want the egg, you can keep it. But that makes it your problem, not mine," the Doctor growled, getting agitated by the shorter Irken's nagging.

"But Doctor!"

Suddenly the Doctor spun around and pointed glaringly at him, "no! I'm tired of hearing your squeaky insignificant voice!" He shouted, "one more word out of you and I'll reveal the secret about your lack of pills to the Tallest!"

At first, Skoodge was terrified but one look at the child, strapped to his chest and he was quick to shoot a glare of his own. "And reveal yourself?! Fat chance!"

"Oh please! you don't think I don't already have the Tallest under my thumb?!"

Skoodge paused and stared up at the Doctor wide-eyed, "what?"

"You heard me, I've had them on my drugs since day one! I have nothing to fear from them. Just like I have nothing to fear from you! You short, intolerable, idiotic, service drone!" The Doctor raised his hand to smack Skoodge only to collapse to his knee in pain. He grimaced and gripped his right leg in pain, a new bump already showing through his pants.

"Damn it!" He snarled and began to roll up his pant leg, showing the ugly lump on his calf. To even the Doctor's horror, it seemed to be splitting off into two.

"Damn things are getting worse," he muttered to himself and looked to Skoodge expectantly.

Almost on instinct, Skoodge pulled out 4 syringes from his pac only to pause before approaching.

"What the hell are you doing, help me!" The taller Irken demanded.

"No! I will do no such thing until we return Raz and her egg back home!" Skoodge demanded himself.

"And ruin your chances of taking over the control brains and getting Zim back?" The Doctor sneered, gripping his leg tighter now.

"The ends don't justify the means, Doctor!" Skoodge snarled.

"Fine," the Doctor stammered out, already looking out of breath from the pain. "W-with friends like you, who needs enemies," he growled and snapped his fingers, and Raz, who had been standing beside him stoically this whole time, tackled Skoodge.

The scariest part wasn't those sharp webbed fingers, or those strong four arms, no it was those cold eyes. Raz looked completely dead on the inside like she was just a body heading the commands of something that wasn't her. It was terrifying.

She was quick and strong as he pinned his arms and legs down before grabbing the needles from his hands and kicking him away once she got what she was after. Not even bothering to be careful about her egg, thankfully Skoodge used his own body as a shield for the fragile thing.

After that, she knelt before the Doctor and began to siphon out more of that green stuff from the lumps. She managed to get one of the lumps to go down but it seemed the remaining two syringes weren't enough to lessen the larger one. Only reduce it, as Raz got up to get more from Skoodge she was stopped by the Doctor standing up.

"Leave it, this will do for now," he hissed as he pulled his pant leg back down, hiding the bump. "And you," the Doctor glared at Skoodge.

"You're lucky I'm far too busy right now to deal with you. I do however have this to say," he looked down on Skoodge the lighting making him look absolutely terrifying. "If you pull that again, I'll make you watch as I dissect that egg." With that threat, the Doctor turned around and left Skoodge on the floor, Raz following obediently behind him.

Skoodge felt sick to his stomach like he was about to throw up. He clutched the egg tightly, trying desperately not to cry. How was he supposed to go on? He needed to save Zim, but at the same time, just the thought of abandoning Mur and Raz left Skoodge feeling sick.

"Oh, what do I do," Skoodge held up the egg, staring at the little Murthen inside as if she could give him an answer. What worried Skoodge was just how developed she was now. Her four arms had all formed and little pink and purple spots decorated her body, soon to make the pattern of one or both of her parents. Her eyes were slightly open now too. Revealing dark purple eyes.

"Oh Mur, you're going to hatch soon aren't you?" Tears started to form in Skoodge's eyes, "and your carrier won't even be there to witness it." Skoodge covered his mouth with one hand as he scooted to press his back against the wall in revelation, "and it's all my fault."

"I'm a monster," he whispered in horror. Just as he was about to break down, crying. Skoodge felt a shift in the egg and looked down at the little Murthlet inside. She had moved her hands from the clutched position they had before to the shell of the egg. She had just placed all four of them there and it completely mesmerized Skoodge. Four little blue hands with little webbing in between, even tiny little claws on each finger.

Skoodge felt a small blush form on his face in surprise before a small smile crept onto it as well. He placed his forehead on the shell, ignoring the slight burning sensation it caused, and smiled.

"I know I've hurt you and your family. But I swear on my life, I'll keep you safe, I promise."

#pills #invader zim #invader zim zadr #zadr #zim x dib #Zim #Dib #Gaz #Skoodge #the doctor #Raz #Tallest red #Tallest Purple #drugs

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sweetiepie08 · 3 years

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RebelZ (Chapter 9)

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

“Care to tell us what the fuck that was?” the Dib shouted as they ran down the hall.

“A coup, obviously,” Zim shot back. “Just not one where you seize power at the end. So, half a coup.”

“So then who seizes power now?”

“The Tallest Red and Purple still have it,”

Dib nearly tripped over his own feet in his shock. “You mean you didn’t kill them?”

“It’s nearly impossible to poison an Irken,” Tak explained. “The PAK filters out most toxins. You can incapacitate them, though, for a short period of time.”

“So you basically just quit your job in spectacular fashion,” Dib said indignantly.

Tak almost couldn’t believe it. Zim must be sincere in his betrayal. He poisoned the Tallest and declared to the entire upper crust of the Irken military that it was intentional. There was no coming back from that. Every other disaster he caused could reasonably be argued as a mistake. But there could be no doubt here. Zim truly had turned on the empire.

Yet, something still didn’t sit quite right with her. If he had gone rebel, if he had truly turned traitor, then his life clock would have gone off like hers did. One would reasonably assume the impotence for this betrayal was her discovery of the Control Brains parasite, but she was with him ever since she told him that news and she never saw his life clock go off. But that could only mean something else prompted him at an earlier date. So the question was, what made Zim finally snap?

They came to a split in the hallway. Tak started going right while Zim went left.

“Uh, the Voot is this way,” Tak called.

“I’m not going to the Voot,” Zim yelled back. “I’m going to the control room.”

Dib and Tak cast each other a glance, then followed him. They found him crouched behind a door at the end of the hall and joined him in his hiding spot. Dib took a peak inside. There, dozens of Irkens worked at their stations. They seemed unaware that, for now, their leaders were incapacitated.

Zim tapped his PAK and a metal ball flew into his hands. He pulled a pin, tossed it in, and smashed the control panel, shutting the door. They heard coughing from the other side and, after a few minutes, opened the door to find the Irkens unconscious on the floor.

“So, what are we doing in here again?” Dib asked, as they stepped into the room.

Zim grabbed one of the Irkens who still slouched in their chair and threw them to the floor. “Wiping Urth off the navigation map.” He sat down and the monitor and started messing with the buttons. “If I’m going to continue to use it as my home base, I can��t have them finding it.”

“Not so fast,” Tak slapped his fingers away from the buttons. “Before this goes any further, I need answers. If you’re truly on our side, there’s only one way your life clock didn’t go off.”

“We don’t have time for this!”

“You had a rebellious thought!” Tak declared. “When?”

“Three Urth years ago.”

“Three years?” Dib shouted, stepping up to them. “But I’ve been watching you. Why were you still trying to conquer Earth if you kinda-quit three years ago?”

“I wasn’t.”

“But I saw you building machines!” Dib argued.

“They weren’t for me!” Zim shot back.

Tak began to ask “But how-” before Zim cut her off.

“Silence!” he shouted. “Silence your questions! I need to concentrate.”

Zim continued typing on the buttons until a picture of the Earth appeared on the screen. The stats were scarce, save for the coordinates and the note, ‘that place where Zim is.’ The little blue ball of dirt and water had gone unnoticed by the empire, noteworthy only as a banishment site. To them, it was merely a place to keep Zim contained, far away from anything important. But after the stunt they pulled today, it would be a target.

Another few clicks of a button and the Urth was gone, leaving only a blank file in its wake. All Irken military ships automatically synced with the Massive. If it was gone from this data base, it was essentially invisible to all Irkens. If they wanted to find Urth again, they’d have to scour the universe for it. But why stop at Urth?

“Let’s dump it all,” Tak said.

“What?”

“Erase the database,” she said. “It’ll be a crippling blow to the empire.”

“Do we really have time to erase everything?” Dib asked. The human made a good point.

“Jut the maps then,” she suggested. “They would have to rebuild their navigation systems from scratch and it would send the fleet into disarray.”

“Zim is no radical!” Zim snapped. “I’m only doing this to cover my own ass.”

“Not a raical?” Dib scoffed. “You just poisoned your own leaders.”

“That was personal,” Zim argued. “This is political.”

“And what about those weapons you’re building?!” Dib shot back. “If they’re not for Irk, then who are they for?”

“Zim’s business deals are none of your… um… business!”

“Shut up!” Tak commanded, taking a seat at another monitor. “We don’t have time for this! Let’s get these maps erased and get out of here.”

“If you even make it that far,” a chorus of voices answered.

Dib looked around. “Who said that?”

“We did, human.”

Every Irken in the room rose to their feet. Tak prepared herself for a fight. Her eyes darted as she watched them all, poised to deploy the weapons in her PAK. But none made a move to attack. They all stood there, stalk still, with a dead look in their eyes.

Dib gaped at the sight. “H-how are you…”

“Silence Urth Creature!” the possessed Irkens shouted in unison, turning their cold eyes toward Dib. “Do not interrupt us again!” Dib shut his mouth and the Irkens calmed. “Congratulations defectives” they said, now addressing Zim and Tak. “It’s been centuries since we had to resort to total override, but mark our words, you will pay for this waste of food.”

“What do you care for waste?” Tak spat back at them. “You throw Irken lives away every day in your conquest.”

“A calculated cost to bring me more to feed from in the long term,” the Irkens explained with their eerily monotone voices. “You should know about calculated risks. Don’t forget, we see everything you do.”

“When have I ever sacrificed good soldiers?”

Every possessed Irken in the room wore the same mocking smirk. “All through your training days. Don’t you remember? We saw everything you did, every little cheat to get ahead.”

The Irkens tapped buttons on their control boards and soon, every monitor showed various scenes from Tak’s training years. “Electrodes hidden in your boots to cripple race opponents. Stealing test answers and planting them in a rival’s locker after copying them for yourself. You got top scores on your exams and excelled at your drills, but is it really victory if you have to sabotage your competitions? Oh sure, you studied and trained, but it never felt like enough, did it? Never thought you could win a fair fight. Had to tear someone else down first. Maybe, if it weren’t for all your cheating, we’d have let you make up your Elite ranking test. After all, we allowed everyone else who was inconvenienced by the blackout to take it.” Their smirks grew as they twisted the knife further. “Just not you.”

Tak ground her teeth together as she watched the images play out on the screen. There was no denying them. The monitors played footage from her own memory bank. They showed her and everyone else who she really was. She work so hard. She clawed her way to the top and did everything she could to stay there. But it was all a lie. And now they knew it. What was worse, Zim knew it. That little pain in the ass managed to make it to elite the first time, even while being a walking disaster, and he never had to deliberately cheat. The idea of him lording that over her was enough to make her blood boil.

“Perhaps you can prove everyone wrong, though,” the Irken voices went on. “Take the honest route for once in your life. Tell Zim what you learned on your little trip to Refirencee. Tell him what you suspect.”

“Fool!” Zim scoffed. “Zim already accessed Tak’s memories. I know everything she knows about the Control Brain parasite.”

“Yes, you saw the same books. But did you reach the same conclusions?”

“Guys! Don’t you see what it’s doing?” The Dib burst in. “It’s distracting you. It’s keeping you here until your leaders recover. Let’s erase those maps and get out of here!”

“Silence!” Zim snapped at Dib, then turned back to the dead-eyed Irkens. “Tell Zim what you know, creepy hive-mind…thing!”

“Have you ever wondered why you’re such a failure? Why you destroy everything you touch? Why, no matter what you do, everything always blows up in your face? It’s because you have no choice in the matter. It’s what you were made for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Before we push for something big, we require extra sustenance. We take this sustenance in what some have called a blood toll. On our first planet, we made many mistakes, one was asking our hosts directly for sacrifices. We know better now.”

“Ans what does this have to do with me?” Zim growled impatiently.

“Since the beginning of our reign, one PAK has been passed down through generations, carrying a suppressed impulse for destruction. We need only to activate it and we have our blood toll. Clearly our PAK has become quite damaged over the years. It no longer works quite right. You’re so defective, you couldn’t even declare your name right.”

The screen flashed the name Zim across it. It then reversed the letters and spread them out to reveal an acronym. ZIM became MIZ. And MIZ became Massacre Initiator Z.

“You were supposed to live as a low-ranking drone until we activated your destructive impulse and die in the disaster. You, however, defied us at every turn. We kept you alive out of sheer curiosity. We wanted to see how your life would play out. It’s been entertaining, however, you’ve become too great a burden to bare.”

Zim stood motionless, staring straight ahead. They waited for the typical Zim outburst of “lies!” or declaring his greatness, but nothing came. His eyes looked as dead as the possessed Irkens around them. He said nothing, did nothing. As much as Tak couldn’t stand Zim’s obnoxious voice or erratic behavior, watching him be so still was chilling.

Tak’s antenna perks at the sound of footsteps trooping down the hall. The Dib’s head darted for the door. “Guy! Come on! We’re out of time!”

Tak smacked Zim’s lifeless body away from the control panel. “Do you think you can stop us by getting into our heads?”

“Oh simple Tak,” the Irkens sighed. “We've lived in your heads since you were fitted with your packs.”

Tak sneered at them. “I cut you off for me and I won't rest until every Irken is free of you.”

“Please, you worked your whole life to get our attention. You finally have it. Do you want to throw that away? Perhaps we can find a place with someone of your drive and ingenuity.”

“Liars!” Did they think she was stupid? She knew as well as it that treason of this scale would never go unpunished. Even if they tried to appease her with a higher rank or a cushy job, it’d only be a matter of time before they got rid of her. But even the fact that it was trying to negotiate meant something. She was a threat to it, and she would stay a threat until the day she died.

“We you know you, Tak. You’re a plotter. You won't do anything rash.”

They don’t know me half as well as they think. “Want a bet?” She started hitting buttons on the control board. An alert came up on the screen and the voice blared from the speakers. “All maps queued for deletion. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

She hit one more button and the screen went black. “Deletion successful.”

“Take that you parasite bitch.”

“Come on,” Dib begged, pulling on her arm. The footsteps were noticeably louder. “We have to go now!”

Tak took off running and Dib pulled on the frozen Zim until his legs moved. They burst into the hall and immediately came across a group of Irkan soldiers. “There they are!” one of the soldiers cried.

Tak led the way as they ran toward the ship’s hanger. The soldiers fired at them. A laser cannon popped out of Tak’s pack and returned fire, but it was difficult for her to aim while leading the dash to the Voot. She wished one of her companions had could back her up with a pistol but Zim was still barely conscious and Dib was preoccupied with keeping his legs moving. The sound of little metallic feet running beside them gave her an idea.

“Zim, tell me your SIR unit to go into defensive mode.

There was no response. Zim was as helpful as a sack of empty ginzor cans.

“Hey Zim’s robot,” Dib said to the little SIR unit.

Gir looked up at him curiously. “Hmm?”

“Don't you have any weapons or something?”

“Huh?”

“You know, something that makes pretty lights and goes ‘pew, pew’?”

“Oh that. I got that.” A giant laser cannon popped out of his head and he fired wildly into the soldiers behind them, forcing the Irkens to scatter for cover

Finally, they made it to the hangar and all jumped in the Voot. Zim slid zombie-like into the pilot seat.

“Come on,” Dib said, shaking Zim’s shoulder. “Get us out of here!”

“Zim!” Tak snapped. “If you don't fly this ship, I will!”

That seemed to work. Zim shook off whatever stupor he was in and his usual look of single-minded determination returned to his eyes. “No one pilots Zim’s ship but Zim!” He took hold of the controls and the ship roared to life. In a flash, they took off into the stars.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfic #invader zim fanfiction #parasite au #iz parasite au #zim #tak #dib #gir #rebel zim #rebel leader tak #iz #zadf #sweetiepie writes #sweetipiewrites #sweetiepie fanfiction #sweetiepie fanfic #sweetiepie08

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ladylaguna · 3 years

Text

Goddess Risen: 8

I never finished it but I did write a couple of pages, two years ago. I'm working on the Original Adaptation now but I figured if anyone wanted to see this, here it is. Vermeil, of course, was going to reappear and share a few longing looks at Megami. Then Gaz was going to show up. Maybe. I never definitively decided. Verm would have probably jumped in front of her for Meg's sake and make his crew members very angry at him.

As always, thanks to everyone that's supported me all these years. I appreciate it so much. Beware there is mention of post-coitus nudity here but nothing naughty.

The sound of an explosion woke Dib with a start. With a curse, he rolled off of the foot of the bed and into his pants before his bedmates even stirred. In seconds he was in the hallway, gunning for Megami’s room.

She lay on her own bed, naked, atop a pile of Vortians of various sexes, sleeping peacefully.

“Christ. Like father, like daughter,” Dib sighed. He poked the pads of her feet and she blinked into wakefulness. “Get up and get dressed, Megami. Fast! I think we’re under attack.”

Squeaking in alarm, she tumbled off the mounds of purple flesh and grey horns into the floor. As she groped around for her clothing, Dib went to the windows and threw the curtains open.

The sky was a beautiful deep crimson, the sun shining in the distance. Workmen were sweeping up ticker tape and shooing drowsy revelers out of the streets. A peaceful morning.

“What… the fuck?” He turned to find Meg had quickly tugged on her dress from the night before. Taking her hand, he jogged back to his suite.

Zim and Seven had awakened. Spread-eagled on the bed, his crotch covered by a pillow (mercifully), Zim rubbed his eyes slowly. He seemed to have the closest thing to a hangover that Dib himself had ever witnessed.

“How can you just be sitting there?!” Dib cried. “Didn’t you hear that sound--??”

“It was just a test fire,” Zim said, holding a tablet up for Dib to see. It was Seven’s, apparently, and a public service announcement about the explosion flashed across the bottom of the screen.

The Vortian, however, seemed panicked. He frantically pulled on his own clothing, hopping across the room in a stuck pant leg as he crammed his belongings back into his pockets. “I totally missed a summons from Lard Nar. He’s going to slaughter me. Some Irkens arrived this morning. I’m supposed to be the welcoming committee!”

“...Irkens?!” Dib replied, his hair standing on end. Zim’s antennae jumped up as well, and he realized he should probably put some clothes on. Dib managed to spin Megami in the other direction before the pillow left his partner’s thighs. “What’re they doing here?”

“No idea, but I’m assuming it has to do with the weaponry they’re shooting off.” Seven straightened his collar and gave them all an awkward little wave. “I’ll see you later? Breakfast will be served soon.” And he dashed out the door.

Dib grabbed up his shirt and quickly began to button. “I don’t like this.” He looked to his daughter, currently fidgeting as she stared at the corner of the room. “We’re getting the hell out of here, right away, Megami. I hope you’re okay with that.”

“What about the Atomizer?” Zim asked, as his Pak zipped his suit up the back. “Seven said he’d talk to Lard Nar.”

“You want us to hang around and play tennis with these Irkens while we wait for him to grow a pair of balls?”

“Why would he grow tennis balls? Honestly, Dib--”

“I’m scared,” Megami breathed. “My stomach feels funny.”

Dib turned to her, cupping her face between his hands. She looked up at him with shining eyes. In the quiet, he realized he felt it too. The Meekrob in their blood was telling them something.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’ll protect you to my dying breath.”

“He’s not planning on dying. He told me so last night. So you won’t, either. Worry not, smeetling.” Zim approached them both, and Dib thought he might cry in that instant.

Instead, he shook his head with a smile. “No, baby. I’ve finally got my family here. I’ve worked too hard for this, and I’m too damn mean to die.”

She only looked half convinced, grabbing her belly with four arms. With a sigh, Dib took her hand. “Let’s go back to the ship. I bet you’ll feel better when you see GIR.”

Once they were back on the street, Dib looked cautiously about for wayward antennae.

“Are you afraid to meet these Irkens?” Zim asked, a bit incredulous.

Pursing his lips, Dib replied, “I haven’t been afraid of anything for a long-ass time. But don’t forget that they, generally, don’t like us very much.” And he needn’t expose Megami to any more drama than necessary. But, in a lot not far from the landing pad, he spotted a familiar silhouette.

“A Viral Tank,” Zim observed. “I haven’t seen one of those since before the Fall.”

“I’d know that fucker anywhere,” Dib said. “Head back to the ship with Megami--”

“No,” Zim hissed. “You just said we’re a family. And you’re not going alone.”

“But, Megami--”

“I wanna see,” she insisted, though she still looked nervous.

Hopeless, Dib looked between them. The Boss Kharna from several months ago would’ve snarled and told them to do as bid. But the truth was that he was sick of being alone. And he knew that Zim would worry.

“...it’s probably nothing,” he sighed, hoping his words rang true. And the three of them changed course.

They arrived to find a crew of Vortians pushing crates out of the Viral Tank on hoverpads. At the bottom of the ramp leading up to the ship, Lard Nar stood, holding a rifle that was almost twice his size. Dib immediately recognized it as Plookesian tech.

#fanfiction #writing #goddess rising #goddess risen #invader zim #zadr #zadevenr?

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vampirepiggyhunterdefensesquad · 4 years

Text

Compliments 3/5

All throughout class, Zim could hardly focus. There was something vile in the sensation, the inability to think about anything else for more than ten seconds. Gaz's eyes were totally normal, ugly worm child eyes. Zim had seen them before, shuddered at being placed under her furious gaze in past instances... He was certain that had never been so sparkly before. Something about them made him want to place himself directly in their path again. . .

"Zim!"

"NO I WASN'T!!!"

The class chuckled stupidly. Miss Bitters raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" She said menacingly.

"Eh. What was the question?"

"What continents have giraffes."

"It's a trick question! There's no such thing." Zim folded his arms and prepared to lose himself to his thoughts once more.

"Zim, if you're not going to pay attention, you can go to the principal's office."

"I'm learning! I'm normal!!" Zim picked up a pen. "See, just move on."

Miss Bitters heaved a great sigh of the long-suffering and looked to Zita, who probably answered very well. Zim didn't know. Zim was thinking about the things running through Gaz's head must have been for her to be so admiring. He placed his face in his hand and imagined her saying them out loud. To him.

"Wow, Zim, you're an Irken.“ She would say, trying to hide her awe. ”You're clearly the superior race, number one major power across all galaxies . . But this has given me the courage to tell you. . . You're also number one in my squeedly-spooch. Please, Zim--"

But what would she ask for. Zim bit his lip- this required some thought. . . But NO, WHY WAS HE EVEN THINKING ABOUT THIS???

He had to move on. This was just a passing fancy. Zim had made the choice to show Gaz what he looked like and he was just ... Surprised. He was just very surprised at her response!! Because he had expected something different.

. . .

Zim's mind wouldn't stop racing until the very end of the school day. His guts flip-flopped nervously at the thought of seeing Gaz again on the way home. Maybe she would look at him again. Maybe she would talk to him--

The bell rang and Zim was out like a shot, even faster than on the days he was fully expecting Dib to tackle him upon release. He rushed to the doors, impatiently tapping his foot as all the regular dirty children rushed out. Finally, Gaz came out the door, walking slowly with her gaming device in hand.

"GAZ-CHILD." he announced, trying to quell the eruption of weird sensations in his spooch.

"Hey, Zim. What is it this time," she replied in a bored tone. But she had said his name. Zim grinned and fell into step beside her as she headed down the sidewalk.

"I have made the decision to inform you that I understand your feelings."

"What." Gaz asked, sparing him an incredulous glance sideways. She nearly tripped to see Zim looking right back at her, eyes wide and expectant. Coughing to cover up the sudden heat on her cheeks (what. What. What.) Gaz tripped slightly, losing her balance.

Zim's arm shot out, catching her arms and setting her back on her feet effortlessly, like she weighed nothing. This didn't help with the sudden feeling of being observed very carefully that had washed over her like a bucket of ice water, and it didn't help with the conflicting feelings beginning to bubble up about it.

"what FEELINGS?" Gaz demanded, beginning to walk a little more quickly.

If Zim noticed she had picked up her pace, he didn't show it. Instead, he matched it, walking slightly faster to keep up. "Your feelings for ZIM!"

Gaz blushed and walked even faster. This was not happening. This was not happening. "I don't have any feelings for you, Zim. I think I gave you the wrong idea."

"NONSEEEEENSE!! You looked at me. You recognized my SUPERIORITY. . . And you said TWO nice things."

"’No. I didn't." Gaz turned fully away from Zim and begin jogging, shoving her gameslave in her backpack. Zim kept pace, raising his voice even more.

"Yes, yes you did!! You DID!!!! you said 'nice antennae' AND you said I was 'COOL'!!!!"

"Shut up."

"Your little.. HUMAN MIND TRICKS won't work on me any longer, GAZ!!" Zim announced proudly. "You LIKE ME. In fact, you LO--"

At this, Gaz halted immediately, swinging her leg out to trip Zim, who was moving too fast to stop so suddenly. His foot hooked over her leg and he hung comically in the air for a moment before flying face-first into the pavement.

"LISTEN, ZIM." Gaz leaned down, casting a shadow over Zim, whose mouth clamped shut. "And listen carefully, because I will not repeat myself.".

Zim's eyes went as wide as saucers, and he nodded mutely and sharply. He went rigid on the ground, as "at attention" as he could be under the circumstances.

Gaz opened her mouth to finish but found she wasn't sure what even to say. She may have been amused by Zim's antics before, but she'd never dreamed he would come after her like this.

The silence extended a bit, and Zim's face went redder and redder as he tried not to move a muscle, but Gaz was way too close for comfort-- she had leaned forwards until there was only about a foot separating them, and her own face, as a reaction to his, had begun blushing a bit more as well. Could he just shut up and stop while she tried to collect her thoughts??

Zim's expression flickered with a tiny knowing--SMUG! SELF-SATISFIED!!!-- look, and he composed himself within a split second back to his shell-shocked look, but Gaz was suddenly filled with the delicious kind of fury and rage that cleared her mind, exactly as she needed it to. How DARE he.

"I did not compliment you so you would follow me and harass me, you little freak," Gaz hissed. "I wasn't even complimenting you-- I was just making comments. YOU can't read into them like that and pretend you suddenly understand me. You DON'T."

Zim was nodding along as she spoke. A few times he opened his mouth, but Gaz just sped up her own words so he wouldn't have a chance to cut in. She stopped for breath, and he said--

"But you want me to!!"

Gaz was finished with this conversation. She grabbed his collar and lifted him up until their faces were even closer. She could see Zim's eyes flicking between her own eyes and her lips and then behind her head, away from her, before he looked back at her again in a kind of panicked frenzy.

"In your dreams," she growled, and hurled him over the bushes, storming off as quickly as she could.

#zagr #zim #gaz #Compliments #this is when i start having some real fun loll #my favorite thing is characters reading each other's expressions without any words needing to be conveyed #bonus points if theyre getting pissed about it >:)#Gaz's first instinct was to tell him to leave her alone forever. but as you can tell #he's entertaining enough that she'd rather not have to do that.#unfortunately she paused long enough for zim to get the totally wrong impression.#or is it the wrong impression? huh.#i created this thing

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irkenstatic · 5 years

Text

ALMiGHTY SMALLEST

CH.1 - THE NIGHTMARE BEGINS

Why are you so negative?

Somehow, a stray thought pierced through the wretched panic coursing through the Almighty Tallest Purple’s mind, and he couldn’t quite tell if he was more pained by his own mediocrity or the flames around him engulfing his now entirely felt body. To add to his misery was the Massive’s still somehow functioning long-distance communication allowing for that terrible Irken monster to patch a transmission through to the crumbling Armada. Had he the ability to do so, he would have given that idiot the rightful telling off he deserved—in fact, he would have flown the entire Armada to the miserable planet Earth and blown it up, or even just simply Zim himself.

But such a thing was now impossible.

“Does this please youuu?”

The only response to be mustered was the ceaseless screams of pain and latent fear beheld by the Tallest as their reality was steadily ripped apart before their very button eyes. And somehow, watching the both of his leaders—and perhaps the Irken Empire itself—succumb to destruction left Zim with pricked antennae and a wide grin plastered across his stupid face. And as the feed was corrupted by static, such an image of the spiteful little Irken left them drowning in an onset of despair.

This was it—truly the end for the Almighty Tallest, like the two that had come before them—snuffed out too soon by the incompetence and defective nature of Zim. Doom had been spelled out before them, and there was nothing that could be done to rectify it; the Florpus was merciless in careening them through an endless realm of alternate realities, and suddenly, the Massive itself was beginning to wear from such an erratic and tumultuous journey, shrapnel of the flagship beginning to break away and hurtle into the expanse of seemingly nothingness, causing only for a horrible situation to become worse—what a way for Operation Impending Doom 2 to end.

As the void of space became ever more visible, even the Massive’s crew began to be vacuumed from its safety, shrieking and grasping at each other and even parts of the deteriorating vessel before being swiftly exhumed into the treacherous maw of the Florpus. It surely wouldn’t be long, now, before the Tallest met such an uncertain fate themselves, and Tallest Purple suddenly found himself reaching out to his revered co-ruler, daunted by the idea of perishing horribly without him—and while he tried to cry out for him, his vision clouded from the heat of the flames around them and the sheer amount of pain wracking his body, he doubted that Tallest Red would be able to hear him over his own cries of pain.

In a blurry world, he continued to reach, grabbing, looking, forcing his tired, tattered body forward, grasping at nothing, searching for someone that should have been there—

And it was dark.

A hand grasped gently at the firm ground, cluttered with debris and ash now, still warm, yet absent of the striking fires that had once engulfed his form entirely. The wounds were still fresh, making the prospect of fully stirring and coming to quite overwhelming, however, the clock ticking within the back of his mind served as a good motivator.

I’ve got three and a half minutes to wish that stupid Florpus had killed me itself.

Almighty Tallest Red furrowed his tired eyes, struggling to bring himself to his feet, however, he was incredibly pained and exhausted, and settled with a sluggish crawl, hoping pitifully that his PAK would soon come into view, yet the lack of a light source gave him little hope in finding success in the matter. And his time was already so near; was there anything left, truly, for him to try for? The Massive was all but destroyed, and as far as he could tell, he was the only one who had survived the ordeal—without the Massive, or the Armada itself, how could the Irken Empire hope to continue? Tension had already begun to rise with the appearance of that dumb resistance force, the Resisty, as well as Invader Tenn’s failure on Meekrob. Without him, the Empire would surely collapse and become a humorous footnote in the history books of the universe.

Every so often, a figure would come into view, though Tallest Red avoided much investigation—a charred and unmoving form left perhaps a handful of possible explanations, and he was more concerned with preserving his own life than fretting over the condition of what remained of the Massive’s crew. Even addressing figures that did appear to stir was avoided—what had he to say to them in their fading moments?

Sorry you’re not dead yet?

Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon?

A smile wavered onto his face, amused by such morbid thoughts. It distracted Tallest Red from some of the darker feelings lurking in the back of his mind, such as the ever-present awareness that he was, in fact, in the process of dying, and each pull forward felt much more burdensome than the one previous, and that… he was the singular Tallest. It appeared to be so, anyway; there was no sign of Tallest Purple anywhere—all that he saw around him were Irken soldiers scorched with black, their glazed ruby eyes gazing upward in endless misery. The only hope presented through the carnage appeared to be just that, however; purple was an uncommon color amongst their kind, and as of yet, there had not been an encounter with a purple-eyed carcass.

The idiot probably got—

“…sucked out the ship…”

Tallest Red pricked his antennae, recognizing the voice that had somehow managed to complete his thought. Scanning the area, he spied an extraordinarily short Irken fumbling over his own two feet, toting around an incredibly agitated PAK—one that Tallest Red gleefully recognized as his own, however… something about it didn’t make sense. His PAK was large and iconic, able to strike fear and illicit respect from even the most formidable of foes. This, on the other hand… it reminded him of his Elite days. Before he’d ascended to the position of Tallest—it was small.

“Hey, soldier—” Tallest Red mustered, his voice straining with such little energy he had left, yet when the Irken before him stopped and looked down upon him, he felt his life clock diminish almost completely.

“R-Red..?” The Irken stood rigidly, his face twisted into a look of dread, antennae drawn back as he stared down at the pitiful Tallest crawling on the ash-covered ground. “That’s not you… is it?”

“Please—I need it…” Tallest Red strained himself up, a shaking hand reaching up for the device before the other stepped forward and hesitantly placed the PAK onto his back.

Life began to rekindle inside of Tallest Red, and he was unable to mask a meager smile crossing his face knowing that he wouldn’t be joining the excessively long list of casualties Zim had created—that and the morphine injections had also begun to numb the blistering pain that had been agonizing his burnt form. While the dying aspect of losing one’s PAK was nothing short of awful, the feeling of having it returned was quite euphoric; nothing was more rewarding than cheating death.

With a greater sense of consciousness, Tallest Red finally brought himself to stand, able to center himself now on the fact that the short Irken that had returned his PAK… was strikingly similar to Tallest Purple. And that somehow while standing… he was at eye level with the individual as well.

“I’ll… Uh… Purple, is that you?” Tallest Red asked, recoiling somewhat as he looked the other over.

“I asked you first! But… Uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s me,” Tallest Purple responded, crossing his arms with a pout.

Tallest Red grimaced, squinting his eyes in disbelief, thoroughly disgusted by what stood before him.

“Why are you so… short?”

“Hey, don’t think it’s just me! You’re short, too! We’re both short--!”

Tallest Red quickly looked down at himself, only to verify that the blasphemous claim was valid. He WAS short! His slender, corseted torso that had taken several excruciatingly invasive surgeries to achieve was gone. His long, sinewy legs were now stumpy and uncomfortably close to the ground—in fact, they were touching the ground, the filthy, disgusting ground. He even felt… compact. Everything felt too close together and remembering Tallest Purple tripping over himself… it more or less made sense now.

“Argh! It’s that stupid Florpus!” Tallest Red declared, clenching his hands bitterly, and even those were off—somehow his thumbs were back, sheathed not in gauntlets, but generic Irken gloves. “When we get out of this, we’re dragging that little monster to Judgementia and making the Control Brains delete him once and for all!”

“This has to be the worst reality yet!” Tallest Purple whined, pulling dramatically at his antennae and collapsing to his knees. “Why couldn’t we have landed in the one with the puppets?”

Tallest Red squinted harshly at the other, remembering not-so-fondly of how the puppet reality had quickly ignited into flames, and quickly urged him back onto his feet.

“Throwing a fit over our circumstances isn’t going to change them—we’re going to have to find a way back…” He pressed a hand to his chin in thought, trying to recall what had happened to lead to their current, miserable situation. “We were going straight…”

“Yeah, we were going straight, and then the communications guy started going off about turning and steering all over the place!” Tallest Purple rolled his eyes. “Stupid Vortians! They promised us that the upgrades would make the Massive indestructible!”

“Yes, I’m sure there’s plenty of Florpus holes for them to test their engineering on,” hissed Tallest Red, quickly silencing the other so he could think. They’d been going straight, and the Earth had appeared… And with it, the Florpus hole. What moronic thing had Zim exactly done to spawn such a nightmare? “I think our best bet is to find another one and—”

“Find what?” Tallest Purple interjected, quirking an eye at his partner. “Another Florpus? We’ll get ourselves killed! We’re lucky we’re alive—look around, Red, it’s not like everyone’s raring for another trip—”

“I’m… aware…” he broke off, pursing his lips together as he acknowledged the prolific number of corpses lying around them. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas!”

Tallest Purple frowned and turned away, his indignant pout intensified at the comment. “That’s because you’re better at it than me…”

“That’s right, so just… Shut up and let me think…” At this point, Tallest Red was used to being put on the spot—Tallest Purple was mostly useless when it came to run the Empire; if anything, he was mostly suitable for keeping their people and himself entertained and polishing out speeches. And saving his life. Though perhaps he would omit that last fact when expressing his opinion of the other. “Do you know if there’s anything left that’s operational..?” “Well… There’s some power left, but…” Tallest Purple grimaced, hesitating to respond. “I’m pretty sure we only have access to here, in the main chamber…”

“What about the computer?”

“Well, it’s… there. I didn’t get a chance to look at it though, I was busy looking for you—”

Rolling his eyes, Tallest Red toddled off toward the observation deck. While it was eerily still now with all signs of the former chaos consisting of only torn and missing paneling and wires dangling precariously overhead, there did appear to be a flicker of hope for the two Irken. It appeared that, for whatever was left of it, the Massive’s power core was still managing to send power humming meekly throughout the main chamber. Calling out to the computer did not solicit an immediate response; however, a small garbled message did manage to crack through after a moment, the computer struggling to process the request, and the duo pricked their antennae to better understand it.

[PROXIMITY WARNING: PLANET DETECTED]

“Well, that’s… News… I guess…” Tallest Red couldn’t help but reflect on his short appearance again—it would be horrifically humiliating for anyone to see them like this. But then again… would anyone recognize them? It had taken a moment to be able to recognize each other initially, perhaps the same would be true on the nearby planet, and if they kept their distance, perhaps no one would.

“So, what are you thinking?” Tallest Purple asked, noticing Tallest Red’s suddenly pensive demeanor.

“I’m thinking we check it out—maybe the planet’s part of the Empire. We’ll lay low and figure out what’s happening here; I doubt we’re the only thing that got spat out in this reality.”

As to be expected, Tallest Purple didn’t seem to appreciate this idea much, either, as he also glanced down at his shortened figure. Little could be said to reassure him, though, and there was little else for them to do aside from exploring and seeing where they had ended up; aside from the computer, there was not much left of the Massive to utilize, which also brought about the issue of travel. Until they could find a ship of some sort, or it came down to salvaging the wreck and taking the time to build their own, they were trapped on this alien world, so it ultimately would serve their best interest to become acquainted with their new surroundings.

“Ugh… Fine…” Tallest Purple sighed and pressed a hand to the bridge between his eyes. “But I don’t like this.”

And thus began a long, tedious rant about how much Tallest Purple absolutely and completely hated this idea. Or the whole situation. Perhaps both. He hated being short, he hated having to look at the sores and blisters scattered across their immaculate green skin—he hated walking, though, he did appear to hate tripping more, and he also seemed to hate Tallest Red’s bouts of laughter when it happened. Most of all, though, he hated Zim and the Vortians—Zim because, well… it was Zim. More so now than ever, given he was solely responsible for the rest of the items on his hate list. And the Vortians for providing them, the Almighty Tallest, with dookie.

The Massive was supposed to be fearsome and imposing, the harbinger of intergalactic doom, able to be flown through entire planets and stars, and yet somehow it had been all but destroyed by one little Florpus hole. The absurd amount of damage sustained was appalling… Exiting the main chamber had led them to the outside and the heart-wrenching view suggested that somewhere, perhaps in a different reality, a separate half of the Massive was still undergoing a violent barrage of destruction.

“Aww… Red, the SNACKS!” Tallest Purple could hardly contain his dismay, dropping his arms and antennae at the realization, however, Tallest Red was quick to hiss him into silence, pointing ahead to where there appeared to be a civilization of some sort off in the distance, composed of tall, metallic structures, perhaps buildings? There seemed to be a sort of commotion as well, and making use of their ocular implants, it appeared to be quite the event—why, even the raucous could be heard from such a distance, although it was mostly indiscernible to them at the moment.

“It almost looks like… Do you think we’re on Conventia?” Tallest Red asked. “Look at the sky; that would be—”

“—the docking ring. Yeah, it definitely looks like it,” Tallest Purple nodded in confirmation, somewhat unsettled by the idea of being here of all places. The last time they’d been here had been at the start of Operation Impending Doom 2. As he could recall, they hadn’t any plans to revisit Conventia until the Operation had met a successful conclusion—what purpose could it be serving now? The red streaking across the sky signified that, for whatever reason, there were other Irken here, but why?

“We must’ve landed on the dark side of the planet—” Tallest Red commented with a frown, cutting through Tallest Purple’s befuddled thoughts. “There’s nothing over here. Well, alive, anyway.”

“Yeah, Tallest Miyuki really liked her planets scrubbed clean,” Tallest Purple sighed, recalling how stringent the late Tallest had been about conducting her organic sweeps. After a successful invasion, the sweep could go on for a months’ time, sometimes more if she wasn’t happy with how completely barren a planet was. She took the entire extinction of a planet’s organic life incredibly seriously. “I doubt there’s anything here that’s going to get us over there faster…”

“Really?” Tallest Red questioned, crossing his arms and nodding his head forward. “What about that?”

Tallest Purple glanced to where the other had gestured, furrowing his eyes somewhat as he pursed his lips together. Lying ahead was an even more questionable mode of transportation than the ruin that had once been the Massive. It was certainly not of Irken or Vortian design—perhaps a primitive ship that had once been used by the native inhabitants of the planet. While it was… an option… Tallest Purple couldn’t mask his disgust at the prospect of using such an archaic thing.

“How long do you think it’s been here?” Tallest Red asked, though he didn’t seem to be desiring an answer of any sort, as he was already popping the ship open and inspecting it meticulously. While he rarely had the chance to do so, Tallest Red did have a knack for tinkering around with things. In fact, war and machinery were perhaps his most fluent languages, though Tallest Purple didn’t much enjoy this flex of intelligence—sure it had come in handy a few times, but they were Tallest. There were other, more suitable Irken to do such things for them. It was grunt work.

“We can play with this later, Red—besides, there’s already someone using it…” Tallest Purple grimaced, raising a hand to his mouth to stifle vomiting as a skeletal figure, perhaps the former pilot, had been revealed to be rotting inside. His presence didn’t seem to bother Tallest Red, however, as the Irken promptly grabbed the thing out and cast it aside with little issue.

“Listen, if you want to keep walking, you can go right on ahead—”

Unable to form a response, Tallest Purple settled with a bitter harrumph, shaking his head as he turned away. He had no intention of walking anymore if he could help it, though he had serious doubts on whether the ship would even be able to move if Tallest Red could get it operational again, which, as to be expected, he did manage after a significant amount of messing. It was just so… old… and weathered away. It was hard to say how long it had been out rusting in the elements. From what Tallest Purple could recall of the sweep, the dominant race of Conventia had only just begun to explore freely off their planet. It must have been quite a shock to their people when the first extraterrestrials they encountered had been nonother than the mighty Irken Empire. The organic sweep had occurred without much resistance—their people were composed of diplomats; the idea of an army or system of defense had never been relevant until the moment it was too late. So many offers of peace and attempts at bargaining, when the Empire could so easily just take it from them. And they did! A smile crossed Tallest Purple’s face as he remembered challenging Red, who had been an Elite at the time alongside him, to who could massacre more of the populace. Elite Red had been so enraged to lose by a mere count of three—

“Ah! There we go!”

The ship had now shuddered itself up, wheezing a noxious cloud and a considerable amount of debris from its exhaust as it staggered to keep itself aloft a pathetic few inches from the ground—surely Tallest Red wasn’t seriously considering using this junk? Yet the Irken had signaled for the other to join him on board, and it wasn’t as though Tallest Purple was going to refuse, so he sighed and trudged over, hoisting himself up with significant difficulty and fell inside, landing precariously onto Tallest Red’s lap, which he quickly scrambled over to get into the co-pilot’s seat. While he’d never been within a ship of this particular design, the controls were rather rudimentary and would have been easy for any Irken to figure out.

“I can’t believe this…” Tallest Purple sighed, pressing a hand dismally to his cheek.

“Believe what?” Tallest Red asked. He’d noticed the other being somewhat of a downer and substantially whinier than usual. Perhaps it was his way of coping with such intense, traumatic happenings all at once? They’d never been through something as serious as this before, and they’d never really been alone in a situation like this; before they’d had a chance to complete their invader training, Tallest Spork had been unceremoniously murdered, and they’d quickly been chosen to usurp his position. As elites, they’d always been a part of a much larger team, and as the Tallest… having no one to oversee was just strange.

“Any of this… Like… C’mon, tell me, is this really happening right now? Are we actually—”

“—we’re alive," and Tallest Red turned, planting an intense gaze over the other. “And it could’ve been a lot worse. But we’re going to be okay; we’re going to figure this out together and we’re going to go back. We’ll be tall again, we’ll build a better Massive, and we’ll destroy Zim in every single possible way we can. And honestly, everyone probably thinks we’re just on vacation or something.”

“On vacation?”

“Yeah! I mean, when’s the last time we took some time off for ourselves? There’s no way they’d all think we’re… you know…”

While Tallest Red smiled in amusement, Tallest Purple’s expression fell somewhat and he turned away, muttering quietly, “I thought you were…”

“W-Well I’m not! I’m right here! We both are! T-They wouldn’t replace us that fast, they don’t even know what happened!” Tallest Red maintained, even going so far as to reach and press an encouraging hand against the other’s arm. While he didn’t pull or tense away, it was obvious that Tallest Purple wasn’t acknowledging the action. “Hey, c’mon, don’t give up yet. It’s just another adventure—we’ll find a way out of this, just like we always do! Just... follow my lead!”

While he waited for a response, Tallest Purple only seemed to be capable of offering another sigh, closing his eyes briefly before taking up his position as the co-pilot, seemingly pensive and… notably tired. It settled uneasily with Tallest Red, but perhaps it would be best to focus on getting to the inhabited section of Conventia and getting things sorted out first. Talking about how weary they felt would probably just compound the feelings altogether and make their progress stall further. Thus, the journey forward was… quiet. Intermittently passing small comments to one another, however, conversation was kept to a minimum; there wasn’t much to address for the time being. Neither seemed to want to speak, so they concentrated on maneuvering the flight; as the radio on the ship appeared to be dead—even by Tallest Red’s technical standards—tapping into Conventia’s broadcast systems was currently impossible, and they were left to speculate as to what such a large event could possibly be taking place. Why, it looked as if the entirety of the Empire had decided to congregate to the planet. However upsetting it would be to walk amongst their people in such a sorry-looking shape, it appeared blending in would be appreciably easier than they’d initially presumed.

Happening upon a border wall, it appeared the duo would have to take up some amount of walking, as flying a ship through the streets would probably not be the best idea as standing out was not an option—they were normal Irken soldiers: nothing more, nothing less. They would be attending the meeting, whatever it happened to be, if only to gain some intel on the happenings of the reality they were in. After reassuring themselves of taking on such a humiliating role, they exited the ship and took quick note of their location before proceeding through a holographic barrier into the main hub of Conventia, which, given the mass of activity occurring overhead at the docking ring, was completely packed. Irken of all backgrounds appeared present, scurrying about and conversing with much excitement; overhead, an announcer was visibly displayed on numerous hover screens, which the two quickly took to listening to.

[…IF YOU’RE HERE FOR THE GREAT ASSIGNING, PLEASE REMEMBER WHERE YOU PARKED AND PROCEED TO THE MAIN CONVENTION HALL!]

“The Great Assigning?” Tallest Purple whispered, his eyes wide with panic. “I thought we already did that!”

“Be quiet!” Tallest Red hissed, however he found himself equally as distressed at the news. “We… We’re not the Tallest here, so… Obviously it wouldn’t have happened at the same time as ours, right?”

Tallest Purple shrugged, frowning and keeping his antennae low. Tallest Red, biting his lip, hurried his speed, tugging the other along as they followed and weaved through the crowd. More than a few times, however, he thought he caught the inquisitive look of others staring at them—while they were more than a little battered-looking, it wasn’t as if they were too terribly different than the other Irken around them. Perhaps he was just a bit paranoid over being so short… But it felt as though something was wrong, he just couldn’t place it, and glancing at Tallest Purple, it seemed that he, too, was picking up the uncomfortable air around them.

Further quickening their pace, they soon had entered the main convention hall, somewhat shocked by how many Irken had actually appeared to attend the Great Assigning. While the turnout was always large… this dwarfed the turnout of their own. It was unnerving… but to Tallest Red, it was an insult. Who could possibly have made a better Tallest than himself? It… It didn’t make any sense!

“Where are we going?” Tallest Purple asked, glancing anxiously around as they pushed their way through the mass of eager, green soldiers.

“Right up front—I want to know exactly who this jerk is! You see this right?”

“Y-Yeah… There’s a lot of soldiers here, Red…”

Absolutely fuming, Tallest Red shoved his way to the front of the crowd, arms crossed with an abhorrent scowl smashed onto his face. And though Tallest Purple attempted to calm his resolve, the Irken just wasn’t having it. Why, when he found out who this hot-shot was, he was going to have them promptly executed—shot out into the void of space through the airlock!

[AND NOW WIGGLE YOUR ANTENNAE IN SOLUTE BECAUSE HERE HE IS! YOUR ALL KNOWING, ALL POWERFUL LEADER, THE ALMIGHTY TALLEST!]

And suddenly, Tallest Red’s fury dissipated into crippling, squeedilyspooch-churning dread.

“RED—” Tallest Purple’s voice choked quietly, but no further words managed to form, his hands instead gripping tightly into Tallest Red’s arm, which had become cold now as an all too familiar laughter filled the convention hall, drowning out the riotous cheering around them. “IT’S… IT’S—”

“IT IS I, ZIM!

The terror coursing through Tallest Red’s form was enough to leave him nearly trembling in his boots, unable to turn away from this… this nightmare! What kind of sick, horrible reality was this? Where were they?!

“Thank you! Thank you! It pleases your Tallest so greatly to see you all so eager for the beginning of my most brilliant plan—"

It… It was Zim. There was no denying it—the voice, the mannerisms… It just couldn’t be replicated. But he was so tall! Not… The tallest Tallest he’d ever seen, but nonetheless, Zim was considerably more imposing, adorned in the ever-unique attire befitting of one titled as such, however it appeared smaller in size than that which Tallest Red and Purple had decided for themselves. It appeared… newer. As if he was just recently ascended to the position, perhaps, with how few alterations to the outfit there were. Unlike their own, however, Zim’s attire revealed his spindly legs from within the robes, which were adorned with pink leggings and intimidating, steel-plated black boots; the overall color scheme of the outfit complimented the ruby of his round, glaring eyes, and black accented the corset about his waist and his shoulder pads. Despite looking overall generic, there was no way to hide the disconcerting aura about him… Perhaps it was the fact that his monologue had gone silent, and that he was glowering down at the two of them.

“What are you doing here?”

Tallest Red couldn’t fathom a response, and from Tallest Purple he could faintly hear him restraining vomit.

“Eh—I mean… What a surprise! My two favorite elites! Alive and well, and so… Crispy!” Zim exclaimed, an uncomfortable grin scrawling across his face. Though his voice expressed joy, his eyes conveyed a much darker impression of the two. “We’re all so glad you could make it to the Assigning—in fact, it wouldn’t be the same without you!”

The convention hall was completely silent, all eyes focused entirely on the two trembling Irken. So much for not standing out.

“Well, come on then! After surviving a mission like that, your Tallest has no choice but to include you in phase two of my most amazing plan—Operation Impending Doom!”

Unable to refuse the direction, Tallest Red gently tugged Tallest Purple up with him, trying to muster a smile of his own, but it, too, seemed to tremor. It appeared that their counterparts here were very well known—in what context was hard to say, but from the way that Zim behaved toward them, it appeared not so good… However, the crowd gave off an opposite vibe, cheering and applauding as the two of them took the stage alongside their Tallest, as if they were delighted by their presence… What was this?

“Now, as I was saying… Behind me stands the most superior soldiers of the Irken army—”

Tallest Red could only stare at the ground, he couldn’t bear to look at that anymore. Looking at Tallest Purple didn’t help much, either—he looked just about the way Tallest Red felt, probably worse considering he was still choking down his own disgust. And the speech Zim had to give was, quite frankly, the same as the one the both of them had given, however, the planets weren’t quite right—in fact, Red couldn’t quite recall any of the planets Zim had marked for conquest. Glancing at the monitor, though, revealed that the planets they had designated… were already conquered. In fact, much of the star map had been conquered, and it forced Tallest Red to turn away in disbelief.

He can’t be that great of a Tallest—there’s no way he’s done that all himself…

“Now, for our surprise guests, eugh… I have another, uh… Very secret mission—on a planet so mysterious, no one has even heard of it!”

Tallest Red found himself huffing in amusement—were their counterparts truly so terrible that Zim had wanted them dead and exiled, too? And so stupid to fall for something such as this? Regardless, it was somewhat hopeful, in Tallest Red’s opinion—the Empire clearly wanted nothing to do with either of them, and wanted them gone, which was perfectly okay by him. This was not his Empire and he would not tie himself down to it or this horrendous version of Zim. Residing on the outskirts of the known universe honestly didn’t sound too bad of an idea—it would give the two of them all the time and space they needed to figure out how to get out of this mess.

“I’ve got a plan,” he whispered gently to Tallest Purple, who responded only with a nod, seemingly uncomfortable with opening his mouth at the moment.

Soon their group was ushered off to the equipment station to receive SIR units—however, the duo were omitted from receiving one on the grounds that they wouldn’t need it. They were “two of the very best” and having a SIR would simply get in the way, which was disheartening to an extent, but not something Tallest Red was willing to argue about. Given how similarly… Tallest… Zim… treated them, he wouldn’t put it past the leader to simply craft them a piece of defective junk just for the fun of it.

“Th-Thank you, my Tallest, f-for… putting so much trust in our, uh… abilities—” it was difficult to not vomit himself saying those words to Zim.

Tallest Zim lowered his eyes in displeasure before leaning down condescendingly to their height. His expression, like his voice, was cold.

“Don’t come back.”

Frozen by the harshness of the statement, Tallest Red almost couldn’t find his feet when Tallest Zim stood rigidly over them, waving a hand to dismiss them and his group of invaders to begin their missions. Tallest Purple assumed the reigns this time, though, guiding the two of them back out onto the steadily draining streets of Conventia. The steady quietness allowed for thoughts to settle about their situation as they trekked back to the border wall, where Tallest Purple finally expelled his disgust into the barren dust of the world and Tallest Red climbed back into their sad, little ship, with the other blearily following behind.

For a moment, neither of them said anything, sitting in resigned silence. Eyeing Tallest Purple, he seemed on the brink of tears, however instead of sobbing, he broke out into a fit of laughter, which shocked Tallest Red somewhat, yet he found himself slowly catching on, chuckling and finally laughing along with his partner.

“Did you see those boots?” Tallest Purple wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes. “Is that how he compensates for that?”

“What? Being short?” Tallest Red giggled, rolling his eyes before pawing at the controls on the ship—while it had been suitable for the small distance on the planet, he wasn’t quite sure if it would be able to manage intergalactic travel, though it wasn’t as though they had too many options currently.

“What a joke… Zim? Tallest? That’s hilarious! Nevermind the puppet reality, this one is a real trip!”

“You’re telling me—geez, the sooner we get out of here the better. I mean, could you imagine? Us? Invaders? While Zim is the Tallest?”

“Yeah? Could you imagine?” Tallest Purple’s laughter teetered somewhat, and Tallest Red’s soon did too, until they were both staring grimly at each other once again, uneasy now that they had acknowledged the situation. It was a funny joke, but… this wasn’t a joke. There wasn’t anything to be laughing at. They really weren’t the Tallest here…

[ESTIMATED FLIGHT TIME: ONE MONTH]

“One month?! You’re going to trap both of us in here for one month?” Purple whined, dropping his antennae and forming another pout. “Where are you even going to take us? There’s nothing out there!”

“Oh, yes there is,” Red replied, sulking slightly as a projection of the all-too-familiar planet Earth appeared on-screen.

While Purple looked as though he were about to object, he simply yawned and crossed his arms, leaning back into his seat.

“Well stick this thing on auto-pilot if it has it. I don’t know about you, but I’m really craving a nap right now.”

Red smirked briefly and did as he was asked—somehow, their hunk of metal could actually fly. And somewhat decently, too, now that it was freed from the pull of gravity and was gliding gently through space toward their destination.

After the excruciatingly long journey they’d had together… a nap didn’t sound half bad.

#iz #invader zim #iz fanfiction #the almighty tallest #tallest red #tallest purple #tallest zim #the nightmare begins

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shadowofthelamp · 3 years

Text

Year in Review: Writing

So, I can’t do the ‘year in review’ for art because... yeah, I didn’t really draw that much this year. So I decided to trawl through my writing tag for one favorite piece per month, and a pulled few paragraphs from each! Basically everything here is Zim except for the one tendershipping week thing, lmao, oops.

Some months had slim pickings but I still do like every one of these and it was a nice reflection.

January: Arrival

Her skin was tinted a sickly green, more like decomposing flesh than irken or human. Dib swallowed, but her breathing seemed to be even when he placed a hand to her kind of chubby chest, so that was probably just how their skin colors mixed, right? Besides, the lighting in the lab was always weird. Her mouth was gummy with no teeth yet, but her vocal cords were functioning perfectly. He was going to need hearing aids by his twenties, between her and Zim.

She had four fingers and three toes, which he kind of expected, as well as a nose but no ears. That made sense, if she had antennae, but it was still strange to run his fingers along the sides of her head and just feel smooth skin.

Her eyes… they were Zim’s through and through, deep ruby with the color filling the sclera. Did irkens even have sclera if they only had one color? Under the lab’s lights and mixed with the way everything on her slightly shimmered from the sticky goo she'd been coated in, she was like a section of space stolen into the little room and it took his breath away. The water blurring his vision didn’t help as he wiped it away with his sleeve, shifting her to one arm. She was so small...

__________

February: WLOD Dib meets Twix, alt version

It’s fascinating, to see what could have gone right. The 1001 here had gangly, underdeveloped limbs, and wispy hair that never quite got clean from the showers. This version wasn’t fat or anything, but definitely had more meat on its bones.

He examined the goggles- peering through them, they altered its vision because they made the lab beyond the ‘glass’ blurry. Curious, very curious. He was about to pop the lens out when it began to stir, tugging at the metal restraints with a clatter.

_________

March: Zibvoid

He talked to himself.

He talked to Zim, who hadn’t said a word since he’d died, but maybe he was just giving him the silent treatment.

Round and round, the generator buzzed like a bee and a hospital and a bug zapper that would draw in prey like flies to a web, except he was the spider now and the Zims were the moths.

Dib. Dib Dib Dib Dib Zim Dibdibdibdibzimdibdibzimdib. The names popped off his tongue as he rolled them both in his mouth, over and over until they didn’t seem like names at all anymore.

__________

April: Sturdy Branches (I know the date’s different on ao3 but it was first posted April)

Her dad is either singing or talking to himself as he vacuumed inside the house with a sway in his hips. At least you’re pretty sure it’s her dad? You haven’t seen a picture of him or anything, but he’s about the same age as your dad, so he’s too old to be a brother and too young to be a grandpa, and she hasn’t mentioned any uncles. A babysitter, maybe, but that doesn’t really make sense since Tulip isn’t home yet- ah!

She’s talking to someone as she turns the corner, bouncing her backpack. It’s lilac and circular, as well as covered in buttons. The Ranger helmet is in her backpack or still in her locker, but either way, she’s not wearing it anymore. She’s got the boots on, though. You adjust the binoculars a bit, but you aren’t good enough at lip-reading yet to tell what she’s saying. Whatever it is, it’s making the girl she’s talking to laugh. Maybe she’ll tell you tomorrow in class or at lunch if you pull her to sit at your table again. She has more friends at the middle table, but they don’t like sitting next to you after the beetle incident, and she doesn’t seem to mind. She always has a big smile when you start talking, and she’d say something if she didn’t like you, right? Pretty much everybody else does.

_________

May: Do Something For You (TD spoilers!)

Dib had never really thought ahead to having a family, but she was pretty much everything she’d want in one. She was an assistant and a partner, she was invested in the paranormal, she hated Zim- but on the other hand, she didn’t want him hurt? She seemed weirdly invested in making sure he didn’t get caught, actually. Eh, she’d hit him pretty hard, so it wasn’t like she was opposed to him getting his rightful dues for being an evil space monster.

It was relatively simple- she was just worried if he died then her timeline would be destabilized, which was a decent enough concern. Zim had to be important to his life for years to come, in one way or another. But whatever they were dealing with in the future, it had to be better with Zim out of the way earlier, right?

__________

June: Unnamed capture au drabble

“Why do you even give me these stupid scripts if you don’t like me doing them?” Dib folded his arms, kneading the ball in his palm. “Just get a robot or something.” He snorted. “I mean, it’d probably break, like half the stuff you touch.”

Zim’s hands curled into fists. “Take that back, you- you- worm!”

Dib quirked an eyebrow. “What, touched a nerve? When I was a kid, half the stuff you made broke, it’s just a fact. You only conquered Earth because this place is a trash heap and your garbage is slightly better than ours.” Over a year in Zim’s presence without too many galling injuries and a lifetime of not being able to keep his mouth shut made him bold. “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re probably broken yoursel-” He was cut off with a Pak leg aimed directly at his throat, prodding in just deep enough to draw a drop of blood down the alien metal.

Zim’s eyes were narrowed, but something was watering on the edges, and Dib swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing just below the leg’s tip.

“Zim. Is. Not. Broken.”

___________

July: Laughter

Ryou couldn't stand the lights on one minute and then hated having them off the next. The shadows bled from the way the light reflected off the couch, how it seemed to devour the wall behind it, and he swore he could still hear the voice in his mind. (Was that himself? Had he started thinking of himself as a separate voice? It had been ages since he'd really been alone, even though anyone outside him would have wondered about the boy who talked to his reflection like it was an old friend.)

He wished he could talk to Ryou. Ryou who had seemed so pliable as a child but had proved entertaining, a match for the fire, (heh, fire, even though it wasn't that funny, in fact, it wasn't funny at all, but what did he have but jokes? it wasn't like he could cry anymore) who carved out rules for use of the body with gritted teeth and tugged at the rope of the Ring so hard it had chafed his neck. He'd respected him. From a soft child, he'd hardened and grown firm, grown powerful, grown to be worthy. What were the odds fate had given him a chance at the same time someone had handed a young Yugi the box with the Puzzle? A roll of the dice. (The Gods having a last laugh, perhaps..)

Ryou dug his nails into the wood of the desk so hard that it made crescents, tiny moons in the umber that dug splinters into his pale fingers. The little model of the Thief King sat, as he always did, half-hidden on his shelf behind the pieces of Zorc. He'd never bothered to glue the monster back together but felt oddly reluctant to just incinerate the figures and be done with them. Both of them. Either of them. Maybe he just didn't want to pretend it had never happened. (Maybe he was worried he'd forget, thoughts and memories swept away by the sands of time, trickling down the hourglass, minute by minute, day by day, as he aged the way the Spirit had never been allowed to.)

___________

August: New Mission

It had been a month.

Nebula Twix had survived. She’d had to be popped into the healing pod when she had an allergic reaction to the oatmeal Dib had tried to feed her when it had inflamed her spooch, and Gir had tried to eat her head the one second Zim’s back had been turned, and she made goo from both ends a lot, but otherwise, she was perfectly fine!

And with that, Zim had come to a crossroads. It seemed that he was, indeed, in this for the long heel. (He was pretty sure that was the phrase. Humans liked large feet and large boots, so it made sense.) He could either continue to keep her a secret, or he could pass on his success to the Tallests.

Creating slaves out of the species marked for invasion was pretty common- something like 85% of invaders did it. But creating hybrids? That number was much lower. (Besides, they were usually disposed of as soon as the invasion was complete.) And irkens having those hybrids from their own bodies, and not just mixing them out of genetic slurry and quickly aging them up in time-fields? Almost completely unheard of. Zim was the pioneer in that area.

Also, having smeets from one’s body may have been a tad illegal, considering how hard it had been to find good information and judging from the fact that all irkens found to do it were brought in for experimentation. But no matter! Zim was nothing if not very, very good at things few other irkens dared to do, ready to drive the Empire forward by any means possible. They would have to appreciate that!

__________

September: Twix finds out she’s pregnant

Secondary life-form detected, the chamber chimed.

“Oh, gross, I’ve got a tapeworm? Well, flush it out.” Twix rolled her eyes, going back to the computer.

Lifeform has elements of Pak user.

Her finger froze on the ‘b’ key. “It… what? Analyze species origin.”

The chamber hummed around Twix as sweat dripped down the skin of her neck. There was a tiny 'ding!’ like a kitchen timer.

Lifeform is too underdeveloped to make more than approximations, but is roughly 25% irken and 75% Dominant Earth Species.

Her scream rattled the walls.

__________

October: Best-Laid Plans

“Of course, Number One.” Two turned his head slightly, and Dib jolted- he hadn’t directly commanded him to do that. “Your plan is perfect.” He blinked slowly- much slower than most Zims. Most Zims were utterly manic, back and forth and back and forth, loud and brutal and dangerous, but Two- Two had always worshiped him. Maybe even more than the rest. It had been nice, to be admired so heavily. Two had adored the personal attention when he was turned into an errand boy.

Dib might miss him.

He shook that thought out of his head, gripping both sides of Two’s face with his index finger and thumb, nails (not claws, they weren’t claws) digging into the cheeks.

“You belong to me.” Two didn’t respond, and Dib dug in a little further. Irken skin was thicker than a human’s, with a single drop of pink blood oozing over Dib’s fingernail and leaving a barely-perceptible damp trail. “Respond. Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you, Number One.”

___________

November: Desperation (warning if you click through for impalement)

Dib’s lips were on Zim’s before he even knew what he was doing. “You’re not dying on me, you little bastard,” he hissed, fumbling to hold up the body as Zim nearly coughed blood directly into Dib’s mouth. It was salty and sweet all in one, but Dib couldn’t linger on the taste. Zim’s fingers grasped at his shirt, and Dib took that as a sign that it was working, pressing their lips together hard enough to bruise the capillaries.

There was a click. Dib breathed in blood and out carbon dioxide, sputtering and swallowing it down so Zim wouldn’t die like this-

Something red-hot and metallic climbed over his arm before digging into his spine, and he realized that the body had gone entirely limp before there was electricity and then there was nothing.

____________

December: Freak

Twix grit her teeth. “How am I supposed to trust you if you’ll just- just do that?”

“How am I supposed to drop my whole social life because you can’t help being the weirdest person in school?” Tulip shot back. “I do care about you, but it’s so, so hard sometimes, because you just don’t know how to act, and sometimes I’m sick of waiting for you to play catchup just because your parents are the town freaks!” She slapped her hands over her mouth and took a step back.

Twix’s eye twitched under her goggles. “At least they’re freaks that love me. I’ll see you tomorrow, third period.”

“Twix-”

“I said,” Twix said through gritted teeth, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get out before I reactivate the security.”

Tulip got out, and Twix buried her face in a couch pillow and screamed.

#shadow says stuff

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ladyanaconda · 4 years

Text

Irken of the Opera

After those doodles I made, i couldn’t help myself. I HAD to make this!

Just so you know, though, this won’t be like my other fics following a linear plot. I’ll just be posting one-shots without any particular as they come without chronological order.

Enjoy!

-IZ-

Tenn poured her heart into her voice as she sang. Her song’s melodic tones echoed throughout the auditorium, captivating her audience. The glitter and satins in her dress’s lavender fabric almost seemed to glow under the white spotlight. Her hands delicately moved along with her singing in perfect synchrony, conveying more emotion into her performance.

As the music reached an inevitable crescendo, Tenn knew the cue that the performance was near the end and followed it with her voice until it culminated with a powerful note.

Tenn returned to the real world just in time to see her public clap their hands loudly and get to their feet in a standing ovation, all of them cheering as roses and exotic flowers landed at her feet. Tenn delicately lifted the gown of her dress and curtsied in gratitude before she elegantly made her way backstage, still hearing the echoes of her adoring public.

It didn't end there, though. All around her, the dancers, chorus girls and workers clapped their hands. Tenn strode through the corridor and towards her dressing room, proudly glancing at her carved name in the door before stepping inside and closing it behind her.

Tenn’s dressing room was spacious and fancy, and as always, it was filled to the brin with flower bouquets, chocolates and many other lavish gifts from secret admirers. While Tenn accepted the gifts out of courtesy, she refused any advances anyone made.

She had no time for silly romance, not now when her career is at its peak.

With a relieved huff, Tenn quickly removed the layers of makeup and changed into a more simple dress to relax. She loves to sing, but finds all the costume wearing and dressing up far too stressful. Letting herself fall into the couch, Tenn closed her eyes for a few moments to clear her head.

Bravo! You did spectacularly, my dear Tenn!

Tenn didn’t open her eyes. She merely smiled a bit as her unseen, maybe imaginary mentor praised her, just like after every performance. While she remembered her father’s tales of the Angel of Music quite fondly, she was far too old to believe in fairy tales.

”Miss Sakhak?” Tenn raised her lekku. That voice wasn't an hallucination.

”Come in.” Tenn said, not moving from her spot even after the door opened and a tall Irken with crimson eyes stepped inside.

”Exhausted?” he asked.

”What makes you think that? The fact that I am trying to nap?”

”No offense, but you are quite predictable.”

”What do you want, Red?” Tenn asked impatiently.

”I wanted to congratulate you on tonight’s performance. You blew them all away, as always!” Red said, smiling a bit. ”I don't know who your tutor is, but he certainly did a good job!”

Tenn sighed. She wasn't sure of who had provided her with singing lessons; all she remembered was an Irken dressed in a black cape in her dreams, but a figment of her imagination doesn’t exactly count.

“Whoever he is, he is a great teacher.” she said simply. Red gave her an odd look, but said nothing on the matter.

“Anyhow, if you need a break, Spork is willing to give you a free night tomorrow. Tak could perform the lead in Mausk.”

“She’s back? Last time I heard, she threw another fit and left after a sandbag fell on top of her head.”

Red shrugged. “You know Tak, she hates when the spotlight is on top of anyone that isn’t her.”

Tenn chuckled. Tak is perhaps the only person she considered a worthy rival, but all her talent is wasted in her self-serving attitude and smeetish tantrums when things didn’t go her way. But in a way, Tenn was grateful; if it weren’t for her fits, she wouldn’t have had the lead in tonight’s performance.

“Okay, then. I could use the free time for myself.” Red nodded.

“Very well, then. I shall inform Spork in a while. Meanwhile, you’re free to go home for the day. You deserve it.”

Thanking Red again as he left her dressing room, Tenn shifted on her couch. She’d go home, alright, but first she’d take a small nap. She wouldn't like to fall asleep on the wheel. Better late than never, after all. Besides, it’s not like there was anybody waiting for her back home, anyway.

-IZ-

Once he delivered instructions and sent most of the dancers and workers home for the day, Red went to his usual spot in the rafters and lit up a small cigarette. It’s supposed to be forbidden, but everyone’s gone home, so it’s not like he’s bothering anyone right now.

Besides, it’s not like Spork was roaming around like security; he’d rather lock himself inside his office and not come out.

His lekku twitched when the metal planks behind him creaked. “You’re losing your edge, Pur.”

The shadow behind him chuckled.

“Ah, Red. You heard me because I wanted you to. Otherwise I’d already be next to you before you even blinked.”

Red looked back at his companion. A tall Irken of his stature clad in a black vest and cloak; one might think he was his twin, except his eyes were a shade of purple instead of bright crimson. The defining feature, however, was the white half-mask his companion wore at all times, concealing the right side of his face from view.

He’s got many names: The Phantom, Opera Ghost, murderer, Angel of Music, but Red knew his real name.

Purple.

“How’s Miyuki?”

“She’s coming back to work next week.” Red smiled a bit. “We had a little girl. Her name is Ilk.”

“One of these days, you should bring her. I’d like to meet her.”

“I will if you can spend the whole week without throwing the chandelier on top of the audience.”

“Hey, you should thank me for that! Thanks to that incident, Spork gave you your job back!” Purple countered. “Besides, the only person who got hurt was the guy who was supposed to replace you.”

Red sighed. He kind of felt bad for that poor fella; it wasn’t his fault. Spork had gone against Purple’s will and fired Red, and Purple retaliated by frightening his replacement in an exaggerated manner. The guy didn’t die, but he quit as soon as he could speak again.

Red didn’t hate Spork perse, but he’s been coveting his manager status for a good while now. Spork wasn’t fit for the job: he merely shouted orders without fully understanding them, all he cared about is to fill in his pockets. All the workers and performers feared him, but didn’t truly respect him.

Red’s the one that takes charge and makes sure everything runs smoothly for each performance. He’s the one everybody looks up to for guidance when there’s a crisis or a clash between stars.

“Miss Sakhak did a spectacular job tonight, didn’t she?” Purple said, tenderly caressing the petals of a blue rose. “She sings like a chorus of songuans from the Imperial Palace.”

“Indeed. Not even Tak can hold a candle to her.”

“That’s because I’m a great teacher!” Purple chimed. Red frowned.

“I thought we had talked about spying on people.”

“Come on, nobody knows about that. Besides, you know there’s only one person I’m interested in.” Purple looked down at the rose.

“Indeed. Anyhow, do you have any notes this time?”

Purple looked inside his pocket and took out a black envelope, which he placed in Red’s open hand. “Make sure that he reads it tonight.”

“Don’t worry, he’s learned to take any notes from you seriously.”

“Is Miss Sakhak in her dressing room?”

Red turned to his companion. “...What are you going to do?”

Purple sighed and ran his hand over his head. “I think it’s time I actually introduce myself, Red. I’m taking her down to my lair.”

“Pur, are you sure you don’t want to just ask her out like normal people do? I mean, I’m not sure she’ll take it kindly that you just whisk her off underground and hold her there against her will.”

“It’ll only be for a few days until she gets to know me better.”

“She can do that on an actual date.”

Purple tensed up, averting his gaze. “Right, and where do you suggest I take her? I mean, it’s not like I know my way around the city, and besides people would stare at my face…”

“Pur, I still believe you’re being a bit too drastic. How do you think she’s going to react if you take her underground against her will?”

“I got it covered.” Purple said.

Red had the feeling that he was lying, but shrugged it off.

“Just a favor. At the very least make it look like she left home, otherwise Spork is going to have my head.”

Purple tipped his hat and disappeared into the shadows, his long cape flowing behind him.

Red sighed. Why do I have the feeling I’m going to regret this?

-IZ-

Tenn wasn’t sure of how much time she slept. When she woke up again, there was a long silence outside. Everyone must have gone home, even Red. Tenn looked up at her electric clock, which marked 01:19. Yup, it was very late. She better go home.

As she grabbed her coat and headed for the door, she heard something.

Tenn….

The irkenette looked around. Who said that? She warily reached out for the knob, but found her door locked.

“What in Irk?” Tenn battled with the door's handle, trying to force it open.

Don’t be frightened, my angel. I won’t hurt you. Come to me…

At some point, Tenn lost motion of her surroundings. The voice’s mysterious charm was captivating and familiar, calling her towards the mirror like a siren song she couldn’t resist, as hard as she tried.

I am your angel of music. Come to me, angel of music.

The lights in her dressing room suddenly became dimmer and the atmosphere turned colner. Tenn shivered at the sudden drop in temperature and rubbed her forearms.

She soon found the reason why: she wasn’t in her dressing room, but she wasn’t in the corridor either. Instead, Tenn found herself in a dark, dimly illuminated corridor. Tenn sneezed at the strong smell of musk and humidity.

And in front of her was a tall Irken clad in a black cape. She couldn’t see him clearly, except for the violet eyes glowing in the darkness

“Who are you?” She asked warily.

“As you can see, I’m no ghost or spirit.” the Irken said in a gentle voice, taking a step closer. “I am-”

“Stay away!” Tenn yelled, stepping back.

“Hey, calm down, I’m just-”

Ignoring him, Tenn tried to go back the way she came, but the secret door had closed shut. She pounded on the door with all the strength she could muster. “Somebody!”

“Tenn-!”

“HELP! REDDOK, TAK, ANYONE!”

Tenn panicked when she felt the stranger place a piece of cloth over her mouth. Desperate, she nailed at his arm, but soon her strength faded away as she saw black holes in her vision.

The last thing she saw before slipping into unconsciousness was a white mask and those violet eyes looking down at her.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #almighty tallest #almighty tallest red #almighty tallest purple #invader tenn #iz tenn #The Phantom of the Opera #phantom purple #phantom of the opera crossover #PurpleAndInvaderTennRomance #PurplexTenn #romance #humor #one-shot #iz au #invader zim au

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krizaland · 4 years

Note

hc: if you have a zim or skad or whoever as your bf they will steal and wear your clothes no matter how many sizes too big they are for your tiny irken

That’s so cute!! Although I headcannon Skad as way taller than Zim since he was not only a Navigator for The Massive but was able to argue with Red and Purple without being thrown out the airlock.

So some of your clothes might be a bit short on him but you could still probably share a hoodie or jacket with him if you really wanted to!

Ooh! That just gave me an idea!

You and Skad had been dating for about a month now and things couldn’t be better!

Skad adjusted to his new life on Urth rather well and even made a holo-disguise so no one would know he was an alien.

His disguise was so good that the only thing off about him was his height!

At a whopping 7 feet and 8 inches tall, it was hard for Skad not to draw attention to himself.

Luckily, most people assumed he was just a very tall human and mostly made jokes like ‘How’s the weather up there?’ and ‘Hey are you a basketball player?’

Despite the jokes being mostly harmless, Skad was still taken aback by how humans reacted to people taller than them.

Back on Irk, someone of his height was treated with respect. No one shorter than him would dare even think about making fun of anything about him, let alone his height!

Nevertheless, spending countless years dealing with Red and Purple’s immaturity had given Skad very thick skin.

Skad would normally roll his eyes and remain quiet when people made quips about his height.

However, if even so much as one word was said about you, Skad would lose his patience.

Things got really out of hand one fateful day.

You were just leaving the bathroom when a gaggle of bullies cornered you.

“Well, well well, if it isn’t Y/N! Where’s your pet giraffe today?” The leader chuckled as she took a swig from her water bottle.

“Oh can it, Tiffany. You’re just cranky because you’re single.” You replied dryly.

“Oooh!!!! Burn!” Tiffany’s minion giggled.

“Chris! Hush!” Tiffany growled as she shot Chris a glare.

Chris swallowed hard as his laughter screeched to a stop.

“The only reason that giraffe of yours hasn’t left you for me is because he knows I’m way out of his league!” Tiffany snickered as she flipped her poorly bleached hair.

“Mmm-hmm. Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.” You muttered sarcastically as you tried to turn to leave.

“Hey! Get back here! I’m not finished talking to you!” Tiffany snarled as she grabbed your wrist.

“Hey! Let go of me!” You snapped as you tried to wriggle your wist out of her grip.

“Make me, you ugly bitch!” Tiffany snarled as she dug her tacky manicured claws into your wrist.

“Let them go.”

Tiffany’s face paled as the sound of Skad’s cold voice sent a shudder down her spine.

“Hah! I can’t believe you’re so weak you have to have that giant giraffe protect you!” Tiffany laughed in a poor attempt to hide her fear.

“Chris! Back me up here!” Tiffany’s confidence faltered as she begun to sweat.

However, the moment she looked in Chris’s direction, he had already ran off in a panic.

“Grah! Coward!” Tiffany grumbled.

“I repeat. Release Y/N or I will resort to violence.” Skad’s voice was like ice as he loomed over Tiffany.

“What are you gonna do? Hit me?”

Tiffany’s eyes widened the moment she realized what she just said.

“If you insist.” Skad’s eyes narrowed as he raised his arm.

“Ok! Ok! I’ll let Y/N go! Geez! I was just joking! I was just joking!” Tiffany blubbered as she released your wrist.

“Your joke wasn’t very funny.” Skad grumbled as he lowered his arm.

“God! Learn to take a joke then!” Tiffany huffed as she went to take another swig from her water bottle.

CLANG!

SPLISH!

Tiffany’s water bottle slid out of her hands and spilled onto the ground.

“Argh! My water! Ugh! Now I gotta get a refill!” Tiffany whined as she scooped up her water bottle and stormed off.

“Heh. Talk about Karma.” You chuckled to yourself as you shook your head.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Skad asked gently.

“Yeah I’m fine-Ack! Um…Skad…” Your eyes widened as you turned to face Skad.

“What’s the problem?” Skad stuttered nervously.

“Your disguise is off…” You whispered softly.

“What?! Oh! That rotten girl’s water! It must’ve glitched out my Holo-Disguise!” Skad yelped as he looked down at his now exposed alien form.

“Hurry! Put this on before someone sees you!” You urged as you pulled off your hoodie and shoved it into his hands.

“Are you sure? This is your favorite-”

“I know! I know! But you’re more important to me! Now put it on!” You insisted as you gestured for him to put on your hoodie.

Without another word, Skad slipped your hoodie over his head.

Much to his surprise, the hoodie actually fit quite well on his very tall frame.

He let out a purr as he lifted up the hood. Your scent wafted through every fiber of the hoodie’s thick fabric.

“Aww! You look so cute!”

The sound of your cheerful voice woke Skad from his thoughts.

“R-Really? Why thank you, Y/N” Despite it being covered by your hoodie, you could still see Skad blushing.

You let out a giggle as you playfully shook your head.

“C’mon lets get you home so your disguise can recharge.”

And with that, you linked your arm with Skad’s and led him back home.

After getting home, Skad’s face fell a bit.

“Are you ok, Skad?” You asked.

“Yes, I’m fine it’s just….May I keep wearing your hoodie. It’s quite cozy and I’m not ready to take it off yet.” Skad confessed as he looked down at his feet.

You let out a laugh and gave Skad a playful smile.

“Alright. You can wear it for just a little while longer.”

Skad’s face lit up as he leaned down to look at you.

“Oh thank you! Thank you! Y/N! I promise I’ll take excellent care of it!” Skad gushed as his blush deepened.

“Don’t worry, I know you will.” You giggled as you went to your closet to get yourself a different hoodie.

Skad let out a few purrs and chirps as he nuzzled into his your hoodie. Your scent mixed with the soft fabric made Skad feel so safe an secure.

Noticing how happy Skad seemed, you had a feeling you weren’t gonna get that hoodie back anytime soon.

#invader zim #invader zim x reader #invader zim navigator #Anonymous

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rancoeur-the-unfortunate · 4 years

Text

Chapter 26 (Pills)

Skoodge shuffled nervously behind the Doctor, the Tallest had called a meeting in the war room and that was the first time he'd gotten to participate. The Tallest didn't ask for him specifically but the Doctor had allowed him to come. Skoodge knew that he had been near the Tallest before, many times in fact. But those were all times that the short Irken had been on drugs. Now he'd have to keep up his stupid act tenfold.

Currently, both he and the Doctor were walking in one of the many massive hallways away from the war room and back to the lab. A hallway that was empty for some reason, quiet too.

"So uh..." Skoodge coughed. "What exactly is your plan?"

"Huh?" The Doctor looked away from the file in his hand.

"Your plan for... you know, destroying the C.B," Skoodge whispered that last part, whilst looking from side to side worriedly.

"Oh simple. I don't have one."

"WHA-" The Doctor quickly cut the short Irken's cry off by covering his mouth.

"-But, I know someone who does." The Doctor removed his hand and showed Skoodge the file he was holding. On the screen was a digitized hologram of a big icy blue planet with only a few tiny continents/island things and a purple ring wrapped around it as well as three moons.

"Familiar?" The Doctor smiled.

Skoodge paused trying to remember when it hit him. That dream he had! Skoodge blushed and stammered out.

"M-Murth? B-but I don't understand, w-why would the Murthens help us? I mean, the only reason they helped the rebellion in the first place was that we promised not to conquer them and we lost! They hate us!" Skoodge explained with a panicked tone in his voice.

"It's not the Murthens I need, but rather one Murthen. You may know her." The Doctor opened up the file and another hologram appeared. This time a deep blue alien with four arms appeared. The alien's skin was decorated with black dots as well as black glossy eyes, not unirken like. Three tentacle-like feelers protruded from the aliens head all three pulled back behind said head. The mouth was also abnormally small. The alien was clearly built for water: the fingers and toes were all webbed and scally yet the rest of the skin looked smooth, as well as strong arms and legs. The Murthen was also dressed up with what looked like a foot soldier's uniform.

Skoodge cocked his head to the side. "I don't understand. Who is this?"

"Ah, incredible huh? She's so average looking that you wouldn't even guess that she's one of Murth's worst criminals. Skoodge my friend you're looking at Raz, the most diabolical Murthen to ever walk on land." The Doctor smirked.

"You lost me. How can SHE help us?" Skoodge gestured with his hands.

"Tell me Skoodge what's the main chemical formula that covers the surface area of Murth."

"H20 commonly known as water. Why- oh wait a minute." Skoodge asked.

"Exactly, Raz keeps an arsenal of advanced Murthen technology, weapons with the ability to turn water into large bullets of energy stronger than anything our weaponry can produce. All we need to do is get her to hand over those weapons and the Control Brains are as good as dead."

Skoodge gasped. "So THAT's why you told the Tallest to stop by their quadrant."

"Exactly!" The Doctor snapped his fingers and stood up to keep walking.

"But uh how do you intend to find Raz?" Skoodge asked as he trailed behind.

"Simple, I know where she is. She's on Murth's third moon 'Cloric'."

"How do you know that?"

"Skoodge, tell me. When I approached the Control Brains with my proposal for drugs, did you think I didn't bring them a sample?"

Skoodge stopped whilst the Doctor continued.

"I traveled across the galaxy, collecting samples of various drugs, cataloging their uses and side effects. When you travel as much as I do, you come across certain 'information'." The Doctor made an air quotes gesture with his hands before he looked back to Skoodge

"Apparently Raz has quite the bounty on her head. It wasn't long until aliens started to hunt her down. However, none have been able to get remotely close to her, she has that moon locked down tight and whoever wants her, wants her alive."

"So what are we going to do, break-in?"

"Precisely." The Doctor smirked. "You're smarter than I thought."

"Hey!" Skoodge scowled.

"So what your telling me is that we're going to break into this ex-convict's homes in hopes of enlisting her help to destroy the Control Brains?"

"Mmhm." The Doctor nodded turning his attention back to the folder. Finally, the two made it inside the lab. Skoodge was about to sit down for a break when the Doctor through a hazmat suit onto his face.

"Ow, what's this for?"

"We'll be arriving soon, get dressed."

"Wait, what? I thought you said we're going to Murth's moon. Why do we need these?" Skoodge pulled the suit off and looked at the Doctor confused.

"Skoodge, the planet is completely covered in water, not to mention rouge. Can't be too safe." The Doctor spoke whilst putting on his suit.

Skoodge sighed and nodded as he looked down at the suit. He had a bad feeling in his chest as he started to slide on the outfit.

Once the Massive was close enough to Murth both the Doctor and Skoodge were moved into one of the ship's escape pods. The Doctor pointed to a huge yet small compared to Murth, rock on the far right side of the planet.

"That's Cloric when we land we'll need to be extremely careful, who knows what kind of traps she's laid down there."

"Doctor are you sure we're doing the right thing. Breaking into her home like this?"

"Skoodge. Do you want to kill the Control Brains or not?" The Doctor sneered.

Skoodge sighed and looked down at his feet. "Yes, sir."

"That's what I thought." With that, the Doctor stood up and sat down in the cockpit and began navigating the pod towards Cloric.

Skoodge looked out the window and pulled his knees to his chest.

When the two arrived on Cloric in their suits their first observation was how deserted the place looked. There were aircrafts everywhere, all destroyed and torn apart for parts.

"I don't get it. If she's in hiding why would she keep all these out?"

"Because what use is hiding when everyone already knows where you are. These ships aren't out here because she neglected to collect them, they're out here as a warning." The Doctor began walking forward through the debris.

Skoodge shook in fear and ran to catch up staying close to the Doctor's legs. He turned on his flashlight and tried to hold it steady in the dark.

They walked for a while, the isle of ships seemed to go on forever. When in the distance the two could see a cave entrance.

"That must be it." The Doctor cut the silence as they approached.

"Wow." Skoodge shined his flashlight inside and was surprised to see that the cave seemed to move downwards, steeply too. "How far do you think it goes?"

"Only one way to find out." The Doctor remarked before stepping inside the steep cave.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Do you have any other ideas?" The Doctor turned his head back to Skoodge.

Skoodge paused and looked away.

"I'll take your silence as a no. Now come on."

Skoodge gripped his arm and whimpered as he began to step inside.

But as he began walking he tripped over a rock and began rolling down inside the cave. He screamed in both pain and panic.

"AHHHH! Ow! AHHH! HELP!" Skoodge rolled for about 5 minutes before he hit the ground with an "Unf." He whimpered and gripped his arm in pain.

Meanwhile, the Doctor slid down beside him. "Huh, now would you look at that?"

"Is it that bad?"

"Not you. That!" The Doctor pointed deeper into the cave.

Skoodge turned around and gasped. The cave opened into a huge cavern that was lined from floor to roof in blue bioluminescent algae, which lit up the whole area. It seemed like the area was being used as a living space. There were deep pools of water everywhere as well as bits of metal shaped and molded to look like furniture. In the corner sat a Murthen space ship and at the far back of the cavern was an egg-shaped raft made out an unknown material that sat in the middle of the biggest pool in the whole cave. There were webs connected to the 'egg' that connected it to the nearest walls keeping it in the center of the pool. Near the front of it was a small hole, the entrance most likely.

The Doctor smirked and elbowed Skoodge. "Best guess, she's in there." The taller Irken then began to start walking forwards.

"Wait Doctor don't-" Skoodge reached his hand out to try and stop the Doctor but the taller Irken wouldn't listen.

From his pak, his legs extended and allowed him to walk across the shallow water to the 'egg' raft. He then climbed raised one of his limbs and sliced at the material. In one swipe the cacoon, raft, egg thing now sported a large gash making its opening much larger. The Doctor then proceeded to shove his hands in said gash and rip it open wider to see inside only to be met not with the form of a Murthen but rather that of two small translucent eggs one blue and one pink respectively.

Skoodge gasped and covered his mouth with his hands.

"Huh, interesting." The Doctor reached inside and picked up the pink one and watched as the small underdeveloped Murthen inside slowly shuffle about in its shell.

"What on Irk do you think you're doing?! Put that down right now!"

The Doctor ignored him as he inspected the egg even turning it upside down as he took in all of the Murthlet's features. It couldn't have been more then a couple of months old.

"Do you have any idea of how much danger we're in right now?! We need to leave!" Skoodge extended his pak legs in an attempt to reach the Doctor only to be stopped when a loud high pitched scream filled the cavern. Skoodge grabbed at his antennae and shut his eyes tightly in pain. Once the scream ended Skoodge slowly peaked up and saw the one who made the noise.

There near one of the ponds was none other than Raz as well as another pink Murthen. The pink one also had large dragonfly-like wings on her back which were spread out in a very intimidating way. The two looked thoroughly and, in Skoodge's opinion, understandably pissed off.

"Put him down, NOW!" Raz shouted she looked to be out for blood.

The Doctor smirked.

"Raz! What a pleasure it is to finally meet you." The Doctor spoke casually as he turned around to reveal the blaster he was now holding to the egg he was cradling in his arm.

Skoodge gasped at the same time as the Murthens. "What are you doing?! This isn't what we came for!"

Raz took a step forward but her partner held her back. Fear and anger marking their eyes as they watched the Doctor with intent.

"What do you want?" Raz snarled.

"We need your weapons." The Doctor's casual expression turned to one of malice and hate.

"Awht eaowpns?" The pink one asked in Murthen.

"What weapons?" Raz translated.

"Don't play coy. You know exactly what I'm after, Yuhi. Give me what I want or I WILL kill it." The Doctor spoke could as he placed his finger on the trigger with purpose.

Raz jumped back in fear. "Fine fine! I'll tell you just please let my son down!" The Murthen pleaded.

"Not until you give me the weapons."

"Erethy ont ereh!" The pink Murtheb exclaimed.

The Doctor looked to Raz expectantly.

"They're not here!" The blue Murthen translated.

"Then where are they?" The Doctor sounded inpatient.

"On Bleech, Murth's second moon. We moved them so that the kids couldn't get to them. Take them!"

The Doctor thought for a bit before turning his gaze back to the egg in his arm before looking at Raz. He then held up the egg over the water and dropped it.

The Murthens screamed and rushed over to save their egg only to be stopped when the Doctor grabbed the second egg and held his gun to it just as he did its sibling.

"Ah ah ah." The Doctor taunted.

Murthens, being an underwater race, were incapable of crying but instead released a small high pitched sob.

"Eaepls ihs iglls aehv ont eyt eeoedvlpd! Elt us aesv ihm eaepls!" The pink Murthen sobbed and reached out desperately for the water as Raz held her back to keep the Doctor from shooting their other spawn.

"I want you to take us there and show us. Got it?"

"What? And leave the nest?!" Raz exclaimed in somehow more panic then she was already in.

The Doctor only responded by tightening his grip on the trigger, not firing but getting close to it.

Skoodge was in such a state of shock that he couldn't say a thing throughout this whole ordeal in fear of setting off the Doctor even more.

"Fine! Fine, I'll take you. Just please let us save our son. His gills haven't developed yet, he'll drown." The Murthen pleaded.

With that, the Doctor smirked and gestured with his gun for the pink Murthen to get in the water and save her egg. "I knew you'd see things my way."

Said pink Murthen lurched into the water and pulled the egg out. She brought it back to her mate and pressed it to her chest. Raz took the egg and gently ran her head feelers over it, checking to over to see if it had been harmed. After a moment she smiled and the pink Murthen nodded back in relief. They both then turned to face the Doctor who still held their other egg hostage.

Said Doctor stood up on his pak legs and stood tall over all three of them he then dropped the egg towards Skoodge who practically juggled the egg for a bit before getting a solid grip on the thing.

The Murthens looked ready to attack but were stopped when the Doctor aimed his gun at the egg once more.

"We'll be taking this with us as leverage." He stated calmly.

"On! Ouyll ikll ehr!"

"The egg won't survive outside of damp conditions for long!"

"Then I think it would be in your best interest to make this trip quick." The Doctor snarked nastily.

"Ok ok. Just follow me I'll take you there." All four of them headed toward the entrance only to be stopped by the Doctor.

"She can stay." The Doctor spoke threatening towards the pink Murthen.

The two looked at each other with pained expressions. Raz gave the pink egg to her mate gently ran her feelers over her mate's.

"Take good care of him, Wer. I'll be back with our daughter soon."

"I iwll. I oelv ouy." Wer smiled softly and the two held one another for a second longer.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and began to trek his way up the slope and motion for Skoodge to follow. The short Irken starred at the two for a moment. The way they felt each other's feelers reminded him of Zim. He looked down at the egg in his hands and felt a strong sense of shame consume him. He knew this was for the best but was this the best way?

"Skoodge! Hurry it up!" The Doctor demanded from the slope.

Skoodge sighed, extended his pak legs, and began to climb

Zim woke up from his sleeping position when he felt something heavy hit his lap. That's funny he didn't even remember falling asleep. He looked groggily at his lap and smiled when he saw Minimoose hugging him. Well, the closest thing she could do to a hug.

"Hey there, Minimoose. Did you miss Zim?"

"Mye mi mey!" The moose squeaked as it nuzzled him.

It was long until Zim felt yet another weight, this time on his head and GIR jumped from the ceiling and onto his head.

"MASTSA!" The robot screeched at the top of his 'lungs'. "I hads no idea you was even home!"

"You were the one to greet me first."

The robot only turned his head a bit in confusion. Zim shook him off and ignored it, not really surprised at his SIR unit's bad memory chip. By the Tallest he had to get that fixed.

Wait... he probably shouldn't say that anymore should he? Zim sighed in frustration.

"Miu?"

"I'm fine Minimoose, I'm just a little tired. That's all."

"Nyah?"

"No, I don't need the relaxation room right now. Uh, why don't we just watch some TV for a bit ok? I've just got a lot on my mind I'd rather not think about right now."

Gir jumped up and screamed. "Floopsy bloops Smoopsy!"

"No Gir, not after last time." Zim winced at the memory of the skeletal raccoon family.

"Awwwwwww" The robot started crying. "B-but but puggy likey that shoooooww ow ow!" Gir then shoved a stuffed dog-thing in Zim face as he sobbed.

Zim sighed and caved.

"Alright, just this once."

In a split second Gir went from sobbing to screaming in joy to complete silence as he turned on the TV, put on his show, and sat on the couch.

Zim smirked a bit in amusement and resigned to watching the show with Gir beside him and Minimoose in his lap.

"How many episodes did you say were in this season?"

"5 hundred," Gir responded.

Zim groaned to himself and absentmindedly stroked Minnimoose's head as he watched one pink blob bloop another blue one with a strangely deep voice.

Tallest, who comes with these ideas for kid's shows.

Irk, he said it again. Zim mentally scolded himself.

Old habits need to die a lot faster if he ever wanted to stop being the Tallests' puppet.

"I bloops you Smoopsy!"

"Aww Floopsy."

"When is Smoopsy ever gonna bloop Floopsy back?" Zim asked only to be shushed by both him minions. Normally he would scold them for doing so but right now all he could do was laugh in mirth.

(You didn't forget the Doctor isn't a nice person, did you?)

#invader zim #zadr #zadr fanfiction #Pills #zim x dib #Zim #gir #minnimoose #skoodge #the doctor #the tallest #original alien species

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sweetiepie08 · 4 years

Text

RebelZ Chapter 8

Invader Zim fanfic

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

The problem with back-seat space travel was, Dib decided, you couldn’t really tell where you were going. This was especially concerning with Zim at the helm. In fact, leaving Earth with Zim, having to rely on Zim to get home, was probably not the smartest move in the first place. But he did manage to get them to Ecore. The first leg of their mission was complete. All that was left was to go home. That should be the easy part.

However, Zim was concerningly quiet since the ship took off from Ecore. There was no scolding Gir, no boasting of his pilot skills, and not even a peep about whatever Kristlotch had said in the temple. Tak was able to explain the basics. Krislotch told them the secret history of the Control Brains, called rebellion hopeless, and insulted Zim multiple times. Perhaps Zim was just stewing over it. But, if that was all, why did he feel this crushing tension?

Something on the console beeped and Zim scrolled through a sea of Irken text, eyes darting between Dib and Tak. He hadn’t used the voice command system, which was especially odd. From what Dib learned operating Tak’s ship, voice commands was the standard for Irken tech. Zim had to have switched it off manually. The question was, why?

“Hey Zim,” Tak snapped, “that was Zorgad 16.”

Zim kept his eyes straight ahead. “So?”

“So we’re going the wrong way.”

“I know exactly where we’re going,” Zim countered.

“Clearly you don’t. Keep going this way and we’ll…” Her eyes grew wide as some horror dawned on her. “You scum!” she screamed, launching herself at him. “You traitor!”

“It is you who are the traitor!” Zim declared, barely holding her off.

Dib’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “Zim, what did you do?”

“Gir!” Zim commanded. “Hide and seek! Now!”

“Okie Dokie!” Gir’s robot arms wrapped around Dib and Tak and threw them in the back of the ship with the cargo. “You hide!”

Before they could recover, a metal door slid down, blocking them off from the cockpit. On the other side, they heard Zim command Gir to count to 1 million.

Tak let out an enraged scream and pounded on the door. “Coward! Liar! Boot-licking little worm!”

Dib let his face drop into his hands. “I should have seen this coming. I’ve fallen for his schmoopy act before.”

“No, I should have.” Tak punched the door one more time before leaning her forehead against it. “When I discovered the truth, my first thought was of freeing my people. For that, I was branded traitor and my life clock went off. His never did. That is only possible if he was still loyal to the empire.”

“Can’t you blast through the door with your lasers?” Dib suggested.

A digital monocle popped out of the mechanism on her head and covered her eye. She examined the door for a moment before letting out a sigh. “If I set it powerful enough to penetrate the metal, it’ll also pass through the windshield, exposing us to vacuum space.” Defeated, she leaned her back against the door and slid down to the floor.

“So,” Dib said, sitting down beside her, “what now?”

[-]

Some time later, the ship approached the Massive. They noticed the change in gravity as a tractor beam grabbed hold of the Voot and sucked the ship onboard. They heard voices talking outside. One was certainly Zim, but Dib couldn’t make out what was being said. A few minutes later, the doors to the cargo hold opened and Irken soldiers dragged them out.

Dib found himself surrounded by tech he could only dream of, though the situation left him little room to marvel. The hanger held space craft so strange, he couldn’t being to imagine how they worked. The soldiers held weapons he’d never seen before. And above them all loomed the Tallest, living up to their title.

“Hmm… Urth humans really are tall,” the Purple one observed. “Not as tall as us of course but…” Dib assumed the reason for this one’s perfect English was that it was, in a way, talking to him.

“Yes and, as reported, dumb,” Zim added, “as evidenced by the fact he fell for my cunning trap. And, of course, I brought the traitor, Tak, as promised.”

“Yes, these two truly must be dumb if they fell for your plans,” the Red one said. Dib waited for Zim to react, but nothing happened. Unbelievable. Did Zim really not notice the insult, or did he just not care?

“Good work, Zim,” the Red one went on. “We knew we could count on you to bring in the traitor.”

Zim nodded solemnly. “Yes, she tried to sway my loyalty with her treasonous lies, but I never bought them for a second.”

Tak let out a growl and jumped to her feet. “Zim, you know damn well I never-AH!” One of the guards struck her with an electrified weapon, sending her back to the floor.

“And still she persists. Tragic.” Zim tsked and shook his head. “Now, about my reward?”

“Oh yeah, right,” the red one said. “We’ve got a party set up for you in the main snack hall.

Seriously? “You sold us out for a party?” Dib seethed, moving to get up. “You egotistical son of a-AH!” He was also hit by the same weapon, forcing him back to his knees.

Zim snickered and stood above him. “Zim is son to no one but the empire, Dib-stink.”

“Alright then,” the Purple one chimed in. “Now that everything’s settles, let’s execute these prisoners and get this party over with.”

“Wait!” Zim shouted. Everyone stopped and looked at him while Dib raised an eyebrow. What was he doing? “My Tallest, I humbly request to keep these two prisoners alive as trophies for my party.”

“But then we execute them after?” The purple one asked.

Zim nodded. “Oh yes, sure, of course.”

The Red one shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. Stick those two in a cage in the main snack hall until after the party.”

“Excellent!” A wide grin appeared on Zim’s face. “Gir, come with me,” he said, starting down the hall. “We must begin preparing my special punch.”

[-]

In short order, Dib and Tak were placed in a cage and forced to watch as Irkens mingled amongst themselves. They all took to it with the enthusiasm of the scientists in Membrane Labs attending the annual, mandatory, holiday party. They wore forced, uncomfortable smiles and attempted small talk. Every one of them looked like they were counting the seconds until they could drop the charade and return to their normal lives.

Suddenly, Zim’s robot popped up in Dib’s field of vision. “Want some punch?!” Gir shrieked, shoving a cup of purple liquid in Dib’s face. “It’ll make you sick!”

Dib cringed as he looked in the cup. “Uh… no thanks.”

“Gir! Get away from there!” Zim shouted, stomping up toward them. He grabbed the cup out of the robot’s hands and began pushing him away. “Humans and traitors don’t get punch,” he tossed over his shoulder as they walked off.

Dib watching Zim head up to the high table at the front of the room and sit down with his Tallest. Much like his dad at those holiday parties, these two were likely the ones who least wanted to be there.

Dib gave the bars another pathetic shake before giving up and turning to Tak. “So, you got any ideas?”

“What’s the point?” she asked, laying flat on the ground.

“Uh, the point is, if we don’t get out of here, we both die.”

“Is dying a prisoner any worse than living as a mindless slave?” She sighed and turned her head to look at the crowd. “Look at them all, human. They don’t even know what they lack. Every one of them is going to die serving the empire and none of them will be thanked or even remembered. Hundreds will be sent to their deaths and hundreds more will take their place. The smeeteries will replace them as fast as they’re killed off. That thing doesn’t care about sacrificing its own food because it can always make more. Kristlotch was right. It is hopeless.”

“You know, sometimes I feel like my people are slaves too,” Dib said, sitting down next to her. “Not to a hive mind parasite, but to other things. The media, corporate greed…”

“I know. I specifically targeted that flaw in my first conquest plan.”

“Right…” Dib rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about how well that almost worked. “Anyway, sometimes I think Zim is right. Humans stink.”

Tak shrugged half-heartedly. “Eh, Irkens are particularly sensitive to smell. You probably smell fine for a human.”

“No, I meant metaphorically,” Dib went on. “Anyway, my point is, just because humans stink now, it doesn’t mean I should give upon them. It’s one of the reasons I want to prove aliens exist so bad. I want people to know what’s out there. I want them to be a little better, a little smarter. I want them to stop worrying about petty problems and work together to improve the world. If they do, who knows? Maybe we can actually join this greater universal stage.”

Tak’s face stayed impassive as she considered his words. “Dib…” she began, sitting up, “not all humans stink.”

He smiled. “And not all Irkens are mindless slaves.”

“No…” Her eyes narrowed and the Tak he knew returned. “And none should be. Dib,” she said, jumping to her feet, “we’re breaking out of here.”

“Great!” he said, jumping up as well. “What’s the plan?”

“I…” she paused and her enthusiasm melted away, “need to think about it.” She sat back down on the floor, but her schmoop was gone. She sat with her back straight and one hand on her chin, thinking, plotting.

They were interrupted by a clinking sound from the high table. They looked to see the Red Tallest flicking the side of his glass with one long finger. “Alright everyone, Zim wants to give a toast with his punch. Everyone get a glass so we can get this over with.”

Gir handed out cups of punch to every Irken in the room.

“Did everyone get one?” Zim asked accepting one cup from Gir. The robot nodded. “Excellent!”

Dib shook the bars and let out a groan. “If only I knew what he was saying.”

Tak sighed, tapped her PAK, and a small microchip floated into her hands. She then reached up and shoved it into Dib’s ear.

“Ow, what was that?” Dib said, rubbing his ear.

“Back-up universal translator,” she explained with a groan. “I’m speaking Irken. You hear better now?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you do that earlier?”

“You didn’t bring it up.”

Dib shrugged, conceding her point, and they turned their attention back to the crowd.

“Come on,” the Red Tallest sighed, impatiently tapping his cup. “Make your speech so we can end this party and get back to important things.”

“Right.” Zim cleared his throat. “Friends, I stand before you today proof of what a true Irken can accomplish. Genius, ingenuity, ambition, these are the things that make an Irken great. With these an Irken can become whatever they want and crush their enemies. To victory!”

“To victory!” the crowd answered back and drank.

Dib kept his eyes glued to Zim though the speech. When Zim lifted his cup to his lips, Dib’s eyes went wide.

“Tak did you see that?” he whispered.

“What?”

“It's Zim. He didn't drink?”

“How can you possibly know that from all the way over here?

“He didn't tip his cup back far and he didn't swallow.” Dib explained. “And look.”

Zim's eyes scanned the crowd and he quickly checked something on his wrist.

“Is he checking the time? Look at him. He's up to something.”

Tak only responded with a skeptical look.

Dib sighed. “Listen, if I can be considered an expert on anything, it's obsessing over Zim, and you may not guess it from the everything-about-him, but he can be cunning when he wants to be.”

Tak got up and joined him at the bars. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Zim’s expression. “If you're right about this,” she mused, “then the question is, why does he want to be?”

The Irkens lowered their now empty cups, except for Zim who still held him onto his. “Yes, Irk is mighty and prosperous,” he went on, tapping a sharply clawed finger against his cup. “It's such a shame Spek couldn't share in our prosperity.”

“Spek?” Dib turn to Tak. “What's a Spek?”

Tak could only shrug. Dib looked back over at the crowd. They looked just as confused as he felt.

“Spek?” the Purple Tallest mumbled to the Red. “I don't remember any Spek.”

“Spek!” Zim shouted throwing, his cup down and jumping on the table. “The smeet who died in the Death Melee because of your attempt to have me killed! It wasn't your first attempt either. You sent me on my mission to Urth, hoping I’d get lost in the vastness of space.”

“Zim…” The Red Tallest said in a warning tone.

“You sent me to hobo 13 and bet on which drill would kill me.”

“Zim that's…”

“You lied to me about the true nature of the Death Melee so I would die for your entertainment. You gave me a smeet, one who hadn't even seen his first cycle yet, as my partner, just to lower my chances of survival. Do you deny it?”

“Enough, Zim!” the Red Tallest roared. “You can't speak to us like this!”

“I can! I am!”

“Remember you are speaking to your Tallest,” the Purple one shouted back.

“I have no tallest!” Zim declared proudly. “I don't take orders from you anymore, and I haven't since the Death Melee! For 0.3 cycles, I've dreamed of nothing but my vengeance and I shall have it!”

The Purple Tallest laughed. “Ha! Vengeance? Look around you. You're surrounded by the top tier of the Irken Armada. How exactly do you plan on getting past them?”

“Aww, too bad Zim,” the Red Tallest said with a mocking pout. “Looks like you failed, just like you always do. Your vengeance is over before it's even begun.”

Zim looked down on the device on his wrist. He smirked and looked up at his Tallest with the cold fury in his eyes. “My vengeance has already begun.”

At that moment, a General dropped to the floor and began convulsing. More and more Irkens followed him. Zim’s smirk grew with each new body that hit the floor. Finally, the Tallest started convulsing as well.

“You won't get away with this,” The Red one choked out before collapsing on the floor.

He flashed a wicked grin. “Oh, I think I just did.”

Zim’s pack legs deployed as he jumped off the table. He scuttled over to the cage and, after hitting a few buttons, freed Dib and Tak. “Follow me,” he yelled and led them out of the snacking hall.

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desdemonafictional · 5 years

Text

Chicken Soup, Approximately

a zadr fic

rated G for everyone

On Ao3

The moment that everything went wrong was when Dib climbed into that giant robot.

At the time, Zim was sitting in a pile of fairly comfortable trash on the street side, temporarily vanquished. For a second there he’d assumed that the day was over, so he’d just been biding his time, waiting for his PAK recovery sequence to rearrange his tissues into their correct positions. The giant robot had been slumped, powered down after its defeat, with Dib at its heels poking around in the wiring to satisfy his curiosity. And then some neighborhood mud monkey had leaned over their fence and shouted at Dib, “Hey, boy!”

Dib looked up.

The mud monkey, slumping over the fence and waving some kind of recreation beverage, said, “You got your--your damn robot all over my lawn! Lookit Marge’s petunias, they’re, uh, flat! You done smashed ‘em! You big headed little hooligan!”

Dib looked down, at some sort of foliage flattened underneath his boots as well as Zim’s giant robot. They’d started fighting at one end of Zim’s neighborhood and ended up on the other side, and they had taken out a fair amount of lawns with the big metal feet in the struggle as Dib tried to uncouple the power cells from the inside. The neighbor on the other side was missing a chunk of roof tile.

“Oh,” he said, “sorry? It wasn’t really my fault, but sorry anyhow.”

“You better get your car off my lawn boy!” the human said, jabbing his bottle at the robot.

“Okay, okay,” Dib said, “I will, jeeze. Give me a second, I’m trying to figure out where the power lifting mechanism connects to the joint--”

The human neighbor squinted one of his bulging eyes. “I know you,” he said, “you’re Membrane’s wacky little nutjob kid. Hey, hey, how did that worm taste? I saw you hack it up on the tv.”

Dib flipped up his collar, covering his neck. “I wasn’t--I had been poisoned, I didn’t eat it because I wanted to.”

“I saws you,” the human insisted, rattling his mostly empty bottle. “I saws you eat that worm good. You a bug eater, boy?”

Dib turned to Zim, making helpless gestures at the human on the fence. “Tell him,” Dib said, “tell him you poisoned me!”

Zim gave the situation a shrewd once-over. While he was still immensely proud of himself for poisoning the Dib Human with that swamp worm, as he was of everything he did, he was also wary of agreeing to anything the Dib asked him in front of other people. “Zim has no recollection of this,” he said, kicking his feet against the trash bag.

“Zim!” Dib shouted. “It was just last week! You put the worm in my milkshake straw! You called me on the phone while I was on my dad’s show just to tell me about it! I had to induce vomiting or I would have died!”

“Are you sure?” Zim said, inspecting his gloves for damage. “This dirt monkey says you’re a bug eater. Maybe you just like eating bugs.”

“I do not like eating bugs!”

The human at the fence took a swig of his beverage. “You throw up bugs on purpose, boy? That’s some sick, that’s, man, that’s some crazy stuff.”

“Because it was poisonous!” Dib shouted.

“Hey Marge!” the human shouted, waving back at his house, “Marge, come laugh at the crazy bug eating boy!”

A distant voice shouted, “From the TV?”

Dib buried his nails in his scalp. “I’m not crazy! It was a rational--”

The neighbor human’s mate appeared at the fence, hair stacked precariously with curlers. She pointed one of her claws at Dib, opened up her jaw, and erupted into caws of corvid laughter.

“Would you listen--”

A small child appeared at the fence as well, also pointing its finger at Dib and spewing laughter. More neighbors began to surface, curious about the epicenter of the amusement, and quickly joined in the ridicule. Public shaming was an activity that never failed to bring a group of earthlings together.

Zim watched with interest as Dib twitched visibly, in the middle of the garden, his whole body spasming. And then, rather than shouting and stamping and making a speech as he usually did when large groups of humans began to ridicule him publically, Dib simply turned on his heel and walked back to the robot. He scaled the robot’s leg with a series of deft pulls, climbed into the dark cockpit, and then--quite matter of factly--punched the big red activate button.

The arm cannons blazed to life.

“Who’s laughing now!” Dib howled, throwing his whole weight against the steering levers. The mecha rattled and roared, one enormous step heavy enough to rattle Zim’s teeth in his mouth. Black smoke poured off the auxiliary engines. Dib scream-cackled, his eyes huge and wild, as the mecha bore down clumsy and utterly unstoppable. He wrenched a knob and a hail of fire exploded the concrete all around them, chunks of it sailing up into the air as time seemed to slow down, and Zim-–in the middle of the smoke and shrapnel and wailing humans-–just stood there.

Watching.

He watched Dib, up there in that 20 ton deathbot, losing his Irk-forsaken mind, and Zim’s insides gave a horrible, perfect heave. It was like he was going to be sick, only, if he puked now there would just be little cartoon hearts all across his boots.

Wow, he thought. Look at the Dib Monkey go.

–

That wasn’t the first time that Dib had taken the invader’s breath away; it was only the first time he noticed it. There had been other moments, forgotten now—an aerial battle where their ships had been locked into a mirrored freefall, cockpit dome pressed to cockpit dome—an impromptu team-up, as Dib threw himself out the window of a building rigged to explode below him—a field trip in the park where Dib had casually handed Zim an ice cream cone, barely noticing what he had done in the midst of monologuing—

Zim’s attention was not entirely on the task of mixing radioactive isotopes into concrete solution. He turned the mixer with half a mind on the day before, turning over the memory of Dib’s nervous breakdown backlit against the yellow sky, the light glinting off the mecha around him—it was the most focused he had been on anything in a very long time, although he didn’t take any note of that change in himself. He was preoccupied with others.

Scowling, Zim thumped himself on the side of his head. “Be silent, brain meats,” he muttered, thumping himself harder. “Obey Zim.”

Across the laboratory, perched on a biohazard canister, GIR giggled and imitated him. “This is funnnn,” he said, clanking with each tap.

“It must be my brain meats,” Zim muttered. “Blasted wetware. Obey your master!”

“Maybe it’s your cute lil backpack!”

“Impossible,” Zim said. “My PAK is a state of the art piece of advanced computational brilliance. It is flawless! The error must be organic.”

GIR oooo’ed at nothing in particular. Zim gave up on his work and tossed the mixer into the vat, stalking across the lab as the isotopes quickly swallowed the mixer whole. He pulled his goggles from his head and threw them over his shoulder. The memory of Dib, sunlit and gloriously mad in his tons of deadly metal, had been troubling Zim for hours now, distracting him from even the simplest of his nefarious doings. It was like a tumor. A tumor obstructing the beautiful correct function of his intelligence interface. And if it was a tumor, well then, Zim would just have to remove it forcibly.

“GIR,” he shouted, “prep the medical lab for surgery!”

As the tiny robot went screaming ahead of him, Zim stripped off his hazmat gloves and grabbed a box of medical ones from a passing shelf. As he stepped into the irritatingly bright medical lab, the computer chimed in with, “REMINDER! Invader Zim is four solar orbits overdue for medical evaluation!”

“Ignore,” Zim said.

“REMINDER! Invader Zim is four solar orbits overdue for—”

“Ignore!” Zim shrieked. “Ignore all!”

“Acknowledged,” the computer muttered.

Zim took an uneasy seat on the edge of the operation table and pulled one of several extendable arms from the ceiling apparatus. He unfolded the square at the end and lined its edges up with his forehead, flipping down a series of lenses until the magnification on the video feed was sufficient for his purposes.

“Engage hard light scalpel,” he ordered. Heat immediately flared to life against his skin. “Incision area one by four by four.”

In a sizzle and pop, the surgical droid severed a square of skull and plucked it from the opened site. Zim squinted at the image projected across the wall in front of him.

“What have you hidden, Dib?” he said to himself, guiding the video probe deeper into his frontal cortex. There was a strange feeling as it passed into him, a fuzziness across his tongue and a static hum in his belly, but the pain receptors were neatly turned off by the PAK interface. After a minute or two of poking around in his own insides, Zim started losing patience.

“Where is it?” he snarled, poking hard enough at his brain matter that his left arm gave a spasm and knocked a spanner off the side table. “Computer! Scan for irregularities!”

“Beep,” the computer said. “Boop.”

Zim crossed his arms and tapped his heel impatiently while the program did an exhaustive malware scan. Finally, the monitor flashed in large letters: HORMONES.

“Hooooormones?” Zim read, “You mean the Dib introduced foreign chemicals into my Zim Veins?”

The screen flashed snow and then returned with the words corrected to: IRKEN HORMONES

“Computer!” Zim snapped, “Explain this!”

The computer hummed. “You appear be exhibiting primitive BONDING HORMONES, resulting in ATTRACTION and HAPPINESS.”

“The Dib did this?” Zim said. “How dare he make Zim happy against his will!”

“Uh,” the computer said.

GIR spit out a mouth full of broken syringes. “Sounds like Looove.”

“Preposterous,” Zim said. “Zim is a hardened combat veteran, not to mention an elite invader! It’s just some kind of… slow acting poison. Kinda thing. Computer, initiate blood draining protocols!”

“No toxins have been detected in the blood of Invader Zim.”

“Well drain it anyway!” Zim shouted. “I want it out of me! Right now!”

“The hormones are being produced by several of your key glands,” the computer said, sounding a little reproachful. “The source is too complex to be removed with traditional surgical procedures.”

Zim sighed and dug a scalpel out of his supplies. “Zim must do everything around here,” he said, examining the joint of his arm where he knew there to be at least one major hormone producing gland. There was also a major artery but, eh, he’d cross that bridge when he burned it.

“The source of the hormone production starter enzyme is located in the organic brain,” the computer continued. “Even if you removed the glands, once they regenerated, the enzyme would only order production to resume.”

“Curses!” Zim said. He lobbed the scalpel across the room, where it stuck in a secondary monitor with an electric fizzle and a puff of smoke. After a moment, he smoothed a hand over his uniform and righted himself.

“No matter,” he said. “I will simply have to hack my fleshware.”

He stalked over to the monitor and pulled down a keyboard from the suspended apparatus.

“I have researched this ‘love’,” Zim said, making quote-y marks with his claws, “before. I recognize the symptoms. If I have contracted this 'emotion’ then the Dib has certainly infected me with his primitive disease in order to take me out of the game. How cunning. Not!”

Zim swung back around to the keyboard, inputting a search for “rmoance” which he belatedly, after cursing at the error404 screen for a few moments, corrected to “romance”.

“Foolish worm baby,” he muttered, ��for I am Zim! Master of all research and HOLY QUIZNACK what is that?”

GIR toddled up behind him and took a look at the screen. “Pogo stick,” he said. “Weeeee-hoo, lookit em go.”

Zim had already smashed the escape key. “Okay,” he said, “never mind that. I don’t need to research romance specifically, I can just research earth diseases. COMPUTER, search the 'inter webs’ for information on curing this disGUSTING affliction.”

The computer buzzed with static for a moment, and then popped open a neatly formatted Gadzooks Answers page across the screen

The computer announced, “Mommy blogger 92 says to feed a fever, starve a cold.”

“Hmm. HMMMM.” Zim peeled back one glove and pressed it against his forehead. “But I am neither hot nor cold! Useless!”

GIR piped up, “Try thinkin about smoochies!”

“Ugh,” Zim said. “No way. There will be no swapping of the spit for this invader. The Dib would have to beg me, beg me on his weak little human knees, crawl through the mud on his hands and knees and then PERHAPS in my beneficent glory I would allow him to kiss… the mighty boots of… Zim…” He paused. A terrible expression passed over his face.

“GIR!” he shouted, “Get the thermometer!”

Two minutes later Zim threw the thermometer across the room, splattering mercury over the far wall.

“FINE!” he shouted. “Fine! The illness is a fever! How does one feed a fever?”

GIR listed a number of items, most of which were not edible. When he got as far as soap, Zim let out a heavy groan and threw himself into the spinning chair.

“Sources say,” the computer interrupted, “chicken noodle soup will DESTROY YOUR FEVER.”

“But it’s…. all meaty… and full of water,” Zim said, barely holding in a gag. He tapped his claws on the arm rest for a moment, considering. “Noodles seem harmless enough,” he decided at last. He levered himself up from the chair and marched off towards the elevator, hands clasped behind his back.

“Come along GIR,” he called, “I’m sure we have some extra soda around here somewhere….”

–

When Zim took his seat for homeroom the next morning, Dib was already at the blackboard trying to explain something to a blank-faced and uninterested audience. He was covered in white dust, practically vibrating in place, and jabbing a piece of chalk at a rudimentary graph of some footprint. He paused in mid jab as Zim walked into the room.

“…What on earth are you holding?” he said.

Zim looked down at his bowl of soup. Then he looked up at Dib. “None of your beeswax, Dibberton.”

“That’s… not my name,” Dib said.

“Hey,” a kid in the front row said, “lay off him, Dibberton.”

“That’s not my–ugh.” Dib turned back to Zim, who had neatly perched himself in a seat toward the back. “That looks like noodles in grape juice.”

Zim shoved a tangy purple noodle into his mouth. “That’s because it is, Dibberton.”

Haha! From the look on the monkey’s face, Zim has thwarted him indeed! The flavor of sucess is sweet! And also, a little carbonated.

#zadr

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snappedsky · 5 years

Text

Fanatics Adventures in Space Part 7

The Resisty arrives at Irk. Previous! Next!

Arrival

Lard Nar sits in his command chair, focusing intently on his fingers tapping against the arm so he doesn’t have to look at the screen. But he can’t avoid it forever and one of his navigators gets his attention.

“Uh, sir? We’ll be arriving at Irk in less than an hour,” she says.

“Right,” Nar sighs, “okay, I’ll be back. Prepare to dock us outside Irk’s orbit.”

His officers nod as he hops off the seat and marches away. He hurries through the halls of the Resisty ship down to the training room. As he enters the corridor, he can hear sounds of battle: weapons clanging, lasers firing, and metal tearing.

Kio is standing outside the training room, watching the show safely through a window with Gir, Minimoose, and Skoodge. She smiles as Nar approaches.

“We’ll be at Irk soon,” he grunts.

“Excellent,” she chimes.

Nar glowers. “Have I told you how crazy this is?”

“Many times.”

“Because it’s crazy.” “So you’ve said.” “You’re planning to sneak onto the most dangerous planet in the galaxy to save the most dangerous species from the most dangerous rebel group,” Nar rants, “with a bunch of wannabe soldiers!”

“They’re not soldiers, Nar,” Kio says, “they’re warriors. And for the last six months, they’ve been honing their skills to match up against Carcas’ crew and any Irkens who get in our way. Watch.”

Nar sighs and looks through the window. The floor of the training room is littered with pieces of busted Battle Bots and the Battalion is busy fighting more.

Kio points at Squee, who is constantly disappearing into a blur with the help of his rocket wheelies and shutting down bots with one or two slices of his knives. “Squee. Agile and deadly, each of his attacks has the intent to kill. He defeats his opponents before they even know what hit them.”

Gaz swings around her large Warhammer of Swine, smashing the bots to pieces. One good swing renders them weaponless before she utterly destroys them. “Gaz. Destructive and unstoppable, nothing can stand against her and her hammer. She can give her opponents a good fight before destroying them.” Dib switches between blasting and punching the bots with his power glove. He dodges their attacks before striking back and defeats them with a single, well-placed shot. “Dib. Brilliant and strong, he can adapt to any battle situation. He reads his opponents movements to find the best way to win.”

Finally, Pepito swings his black spear around, slicing through bots like butter. And when he wants to spice things up, he unleashes a wave of black energy, blasting them to pieces. “Pepito. Pure, unadulterated power, he could destroy whole armies. That is, if he doesn’t toy with his opponents first.” Nar nods reluctantly. “Fine, they’re well-trained. What about those three?” He nods towards Johnny, Devi, and Tenna who are sitting on the floor on the far end of the room, away from the action.

“They’re wild cards,” Kio replies, “I don’t know what they might do and I’m not sure they do either.” Nar sighs. “You really believe in them, huh?”

Kio smiles. “I do.” He sighs again and rubs his horn. “Fine. Then…I’ll believe in you.” “You always have.” Nar smiles weakly before turning away. “I’ll see you in the control room.” Kio watches him walk away before turning back to window. She pushes a button on the console before her, activating an intercom.

“Guys, we’re gonna be arriving to Irk soon,” she says, “you better get ready.”

“For real?” Pepito exclaims in disbelief as they start leaving the room.

“Has it been six months already?” Gaz asks.

Dib takes a deep breath as he deactivates his power glove, turning it into a bracelet. “Show time.”

Everyone follows Kio through the ship to her lab. She grabs a metal chest from off a shelf and places it on a table. When she opens it, she reveals four neatly folded suits displaying the Battalion’s crest on the back.

“I finished everyone’s customizations a while ago,” she explains, “but I wanted to hold onto them for this moment.” She hands the kids their suits, each one glowing a different colour: Squee, purple; Gaz, teal; Dib, blue; Pepito, red.

“Go ahead and change,” Kio says, “and we’ll go to the command room to go over our plan.”

Everyone quickly changes and examines their new suits. What was before simple body suits with different colours are now completely customized to everyone’s specifications.

Squee has gotten horizontal stripes going across his sleeves along with short black gloves and a belt with back holsters for his knives. Gaz has gotten a strap to hang across her chest with a latch on the back that hooks onto her hammer, as well as a big pair of boots and added fabric around the waist to resemble a skirt. Dib also got boots and a belt with multiple pouches for holding supplies as well as added fabric around his wrists and hanging down from his back to resemble his trench coat. Finally, Pepito’s new boots are slim and knee high but the biggest addition was a hole in the back of his suit showing off his shoulder blades.

“That hole is covered by an expandable vacuum bubble,” Kio explains, “so when you release your wings, the bubble will cover them entirely and you won’t be exposed.”

“Sweet,” Pepito grins, “and we look damn good.”

Kio smiles, happy that everyone approves of their suits.

Added onto Squee’s belt is an extra strap which he wraps around Shmee’s chest. “How’s that feel?”

“Not bad,” Shmee replies, “it’s a good seat to watch everything anyway.” Once everyone is ready, they head to the command room. All of the Resisty members are unsettled, muttering to each other and glancing at a planet being shown on the display. It’s busy, surrounded by satellites and ships coming and going. It’s completely gray with dark clouds drifting over certain areas.

“Irk,” Kio grunts darkly.

“Wow,” Dib breathes while the others stare in awe.

“Alright,” Kio says, facing everyone. “Here’s the plan. Fairly simple: we find Zim and get him back up here. Then we’ll come up with a plan for Carcas. But finding Zim is our first priority.”

“And how do we do that?” Gaz asks.

She detaches a small device with a screen from her belt. “Gir has a tracking system implanted in him so Zim can summon him whenever he wants and Gir can find him right away. I made a device that hones in on that tracking frequency in Zim’s PAK. It’ll lead us right to him.” She puts the device back on her belt and grabs a small box from within her lab coat. Inside look like four ear devices.

“We’ll use these to remain in constant contact with each other,” Kio explains as she hands them out. “Finally.” She grabs a slightly bigger case from her coat. Inside are four circular devices with large buttons in the middle. “These are cloaking disguises. You’ll recognize this technology from Tak. These ones are designed to make us look like Irkens. This is how we’ll move through Irk undetected. Attach them somewhere on your person and press the button.”

Everyone grabs one and puts them on their belts before pushing the buttons. A light shimmers over each of them before they seemingly shrink down. “Whoa, cool!” Tenna exclaims while Devi and Johnny blink with bewilderment.

The kids all look like Irkens, barely three feet tall and dressed in simple soldier uniforms. They look at each other and themselves with surprise.

“Whoa, this is…” Squee mutters as he clenches and unclenches his hands, now with four fingers. “Trippy.”

Nny kneels in front of him, grinning. “It’s kind of cute.”

He starts to wave his hand over Irken!Squee’s head, but knocks into humans!Squee’s chest. A light shimmers around him, revealing his real form for a second.

“Careful,” Kio warns, “the hologram merely makes you look like an Irken. You will move like an Irken and see from an Irken’s point of view but you still retain your actual height. Any interference with the hologram may cause it to fail. So watch your heads.”

“Noted,” Dib says as he tries to touch his antennae but bumps into his real stomach.

“This is very impressive,” Skoodge comments, “so how are we getting down there?” “You’ll be staying here, Skoodge,” Kio states, “along with Gir and Minimoose and Devi, Tenna, and Johnny. Your face is known on Irk, and we can’t risk drawing any attention to ourselves.” “Are you saying we’d draw attention?” Johnny asks.

“I mean, to honest, that’s fair,” Devi shrugs.

“But to answer your question, Skoodge,” Kio says, “we’ll be taking an escape shuttle down to the surface. We’ll use the same shuttle to come back after we’ve found Zim.” “Now then.” She activates her own cloaking disguise, portraying herself as an Irken. “Everyone ready?”

“Yes,” the Battalion replies.

“Then let’s go,” Kio orders and leads the way to the escape shuttles in the side of the room.

“We will remain in constant contact so keep us updated,” Lard Nar demands.

“I promise,” Kio calls back as they climb into a shuttle. Everyone waves and wishes them good luck as the door closes.

“Brace yourselves,” Kio warns as she activates the shuttle. It detaches from the ship and shoots off, straight for Irk.

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #my art #my ocs

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hecallsmehischild · 5 years

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IZ Fanfic - Hey Spacejerk - Bonus

Surprise! So these fragments are not part of the story. However it took me a few tries to get the last chapter the way I wanted, and I wanted to put those efforts somewhere. While they didn’t fit exactly right, I really liked certain aspects of them. So consider them bonus snippets. No, there will not be more about them. They are just failed attempts at the final chapter of Hey Spacejerk.

Attempt #1: Child vampire stakeout

The hall light flickered as Dib kicked at the ratty brown carpet runner. Someone had drunk staple-gunned it in place so it sported several trip-hazard folds sticking up to catch unsuspecting shufflers. Though the competing stereos and crying babies might cover up an approach on floorboards that cracked like gunshots, it wasn’t good to take those kind of chances. A painful encounter with a Jersey devil had taught him that paranormal creatures living in plain sight often knew when they were being hunted and took detailed inventory of their home-base’s typical sensory input. They rarely missed subtle changes like, say, an unfamiliar set of footsteps. With that in mind, Zim had been sent up the side of the crumbly apartment building to watch for the target’s departure and signal an all-clear.

He lifted his hand up to his nose, his finger hovering just over the bridge of his glasses. Pushing his glasses up would send a cricket chirp to Zim, an unobtrusive check-in that wouldn’t compromise his position. A tap to the right glasses arm would open two way communication. A tap to the left glasses arm would send audio without receiving any. The new setup had drastically reduced their blunders in the last few months.

If Zim didn’t chirp the all-clear signal in ninety seconds, Dib decided, he’d chirp to see if things were still okay.

Of course things were fine. He scolded himself, jamming his hands in the pockets of his signature floor-length black trenchcoat. Zim would have alerted him if he’d run into anything he couldn’t handle. There had been that one situation with the fae… but they weren’t inspecting a mushroom ring this time. Zim would be fine.

There. Two quick chirps through the receiver in his glasses frame. All clear. Dib strode down the hall, giving a wide berth to the radiator that smelled like something had died underneath and took the stairs two at a time. Questionable-looking brown smears covered long stretches of the wall and the air was thick with the smell of marijuana. Up. Up. Up to the seventh floor and down the hall, passing doors with numbers crooked, upside down, or just missing.

Apartment 704 had the same tired red paint that every other door had, but none of the peeling paint or mold spots. Strips were missing, but the surface had been sanded smooth, and there wasn’t a sign of mud or stains. The door was already ajar. Cautious, Dib tapped the bridge of his glasses once, double checking with Zim.

Two fast chirps back and Dib entered, shutting the door behind him. Under his feet was a worn but clean little rainbow doormat. The walls, though beige, fairly gleamed. The threadbare carpeting was flush with the floor. Dib ran a gloved hand along the counter and pulled it back dust-free.

“Doubtful I could find any germs, even with microgoggles,” Zim marveled, poking his head into the fridge and freezer. “Nothing here. Empty refrigerator. Cleaning supplies in the cupboard, but no food.”

Dib glanced at a small bookshelf crammed with raggedy paperbacks. He pulled one out at random. “The Selection. Kiera Cass.” He stuck his tongue out. “Cover tells me it’s a princessy love triangle.” He slid it back in its place.

Zim grabbed it back off the shelf, inspecting it. “Love triangle. Terminology to describe a recurring concept in various mediums of storytelling where creature number one cannot decide whether to mate with creature number two or creature number three. Sometimes creature number two and creature three want to mate with each other, and creature number one is furious. But how can you tell just by looking at the picture on front?”

Dib shrugged. “Eh, publishers tend to put very similar visual cues on books that emphasize a particular ‘recurring concept’ in their storytelling.”

Zim inspected the book, thumbing through a few pages. “Note to PAK, begin database of published book covers for cross referencing.”

“I’d count that as less important than figuring out that you shouldn’t go shouting your name at the fae when they ask.”

“It was one time! I was not warned! When are you going to stop mocking me?”

“The day you stop reacting.” Dib pulled a couple more books to check for hidden compartments but his enthusiasm was fading. A couple anime and cartoon posters hung on the wall, their edges carefully repaired with tape. A twin mattress with overlarge mickey mouse bedding was crammed into the corner. No TV, no electronics, and according to Zim, no food.

Dib lifted the mattress. Underneath was a ziplock bag with a few dollars and coins in it, but nothing else. “Zim, you got visual confirmation of her leaving? ‘Cause right now we’re not getting more than circumstantial evidence.”

“She took the fire escape down.” Zim pointed at the window he had likely used for his own entrance. Dib approached, scratching a nail along a pane. A thick layer of jet black paint curled away under his nail. Blackout curtains hung on a bent rail overhead.

“I was expecting a hidden store of blood somewhere,” Dib admitted. “But it doesn’t look like she has the cash to get a hidden cold storage system, and you already checked the freezer.”

“Those are children’s cartoons, are they not?” Zim pointed at the cheerful bedspread. “Perhaps your informants overestimated her age.”

“That’s possible, but who knows how long she’s been whatever age she is, too.” Dib sighed. “This is a mess. No way to determine if she’s a threat or not from this.”

Zim cleared his throat. “Perhaps, Agent Mothman, we should consider waiting here and speaking to her when she returns. Perhaps she has something to say for herself.”

Dib slowly slid the book he was holding back in its place, keeping his eyes on the shelf. Stilted formality was a cue Zim had locked onto from their lessons about saying-what-you-mean-without-actually-saying-it. If she was anywhere, she was probably at the window, and he wasn’t going to spook her by glancing over. “You have a point, Agent Spiderlegs.”

Reason dropped: They’re way too competent, so it’s been a long time and that makes it harder to do exposition right. Also for what purpose are they here? Is it to protect this child vampire? Is it to recruit her? See if she’s a threat or not? Exactly what is their standing in the Eyeball by now? It kicked up more questions than I was willing to answer in a final chapter but MAN did I love playing with setting clues for a bit.

Attempt #2: PAK replacement trials

“Would you stop twitching already?” Dib squinted along the headlamp’s beam into the mess of Zim’s PAK. “Okay, so there’s a blueish glassy cylinder in here that’s filled with tiny bead-like things. Glass is cracked.”

A long string of Irken curses followed this observation.

“Right. I take it that’s not easy to get ahold of. Start figuring out how to explain to me what this does and I’ll see if we can’t find a substitute you can use to patch it up.”

“That is pure Meekrob valgrathstal! You cannot just substitute and patch like you’re repairing a ship’s hull! This is a component of my existence!” Zim screeched.

“Well we don’t have a lot of other options, Zim!” Dib flipped the PAK shut, rubbing his eyes. “That’s enough for now. I don’t think we can probe farther in until we have some materials to repair you.”

Morose, Zim twisted around to face his workspace. Reaching into the top drawer, he pulled out the makeup kit Dib had pieced together for him and began applying a white paste to his face. It was a temporary solution that served a double purpose as water repellent and a base over which Zim would apply a nosepiece, prosthetic ears, and tan foundation.

Dib plopped down on his bed and sighed. It was going to be rocky for a while on their new pay level, but Agent Darkbooty had thrown in a deposit on a mediocre apartment near Zim’s old base, as well as some used furniture. Hopefully in a few months they could scrape together enough funds to start experimenting with earthly substances that had a shot at operating as replacement PAK components.

The damage from the Tallests’ attack on Zim plus his internal battle for control had cost Zim dearly. Attempting to activate any sort of hologram triggered an agonizing shock, and until Dib could reach the deeper circuitry to remove the pain/pleasure conditioning hardware, they would have to rely on low-tech special effects to mask Zim’s appearance. And Zim could no longer initiate repairs on his own PAK, as the amount of time he could separate from it had been cut in half. In addition, he now he required something akin to sleep in order to function properly. For about five hours per day, Zim had to shut down all PAK functions except life support and lie comatose. It was up to Dib to “restart” Zim, and Mars have mercy if he was even thirty seconds late.

He wished Zim would cut him some slack when he slipped up. On the other hand, Zim was swallowing huge amounts of humble pie while learning, so maybe Dib just had to let the browbeating sessions go.

Reason dropped: was too much of a downer. Slipping too much into exposition. I wanted to reward the protagonists more than this.

#zim #invader zim #hey spacejerk

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