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joemerl · 3 years

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Writer’s Month 2021, Day 5: “Secret”

Fandom: Invader Zim/Gravity Falls crossover

Word count: 880

Summary: Dib tries to investigate a paranormal hotspot. Unfortunately its residents aren’t making it easy for him.

Author’s notes: Hopefully this will be a full-length fic someday.

Dib Membrane was used to frustration. He was used to people refusing to see the paranormal even when it was in front of their eyes. But he wasn’t used to people lying about seeing the paranormal. And after an hour in Gravity Falls, he was convinced that that was what was happening.

“Never mind all that!” a random townsperson said when asked about the events of the previous year.

“But witnesses said that the sky was red, only in a patch of sky right above this town! How—”

“Never mind all that!” the man insisted, then turned and ran away.

The same thing happened when Dib went into the local diner.

“Never mind all that,” the blue-haired waitress said breezily. One eye swiveled as she moved. “Now, what kind of soda would you like?”

“Classic Poop. But the town was completely cut off! My sources say that there were no calls, e-mails—”

“Power outage.”

Dib flipped through his notes. “Okay, but people who went to your town’s website, or even any blogs or social media accounts from people living here, saw ‘staticky videos of a weird, triangle-shaped cyclops laughing and speaking in ominous backwards messages.’ And any recordings of those messages went blank a few days later!”

“POWER OUTAGE!” Dib recoiled as the waitress put her face about an inch from his. Then she drew back and cheerfully left to get him his soda.

Dib marched out of the restaurant a few minutes later. He grilled random people walking along the street. He tried asking some kids younger than him. He asked a police officer. And each began with the same phrase: “Never mind all that.”

He might have believed that they were all just stupid, like the people back home...except that, as he was talking to one woman, a giant eyeball with bat wings flew by. Dib let out a scream and fell back, while the woman scoffed, swung her purse at it and grumbled something about “stupid pests.” Dib was still fumbling for his camera while it flew off into the forest.

While he was talking to the policeman, two foot-tall men in pointed hats ran by, working together to carry a large ham.

“And what are those?!” he cried, motioning as they disappeared into the bushes. “How can you tell me that there’s nothing weird about this town when—YAAAGGGHHHZZZ!”

“WHOO-HOO! Mad with power!” the police officer cheered, running off and waving his taser above his head.

Dib stumbled over to a telephone poll and grabbed it for support. He blinked when he noticed the flyer attached to it. Then he snatched it up, rereading it thoughtfully.

And that’s how he found his way to the Mystery Shack, a small wooden building not far out of town.

There were a few other tourists milling around as Dib tentatively checked out the exhibits. A fake bear head with a unicorn horn. A fake Sasquatch wearing briefs. A stuffed jackalope, which upon close inspection proved definitely fake. A T-rex skull that might have been real, but didn’t technically count as paranormal if it did.

In the gift shop, Dib found a tall, redheaded teenager reading a magazine behind the counter. He grabbed a bumper sticker at random and slapped it on the counter.

The girl sighed and then, impressively, started to scan his purchase without looking up from her magazine.

“Hey. Did you enjoy the exhibits?”

“No. So,” Dib handed her a ten-dollar bill, speaking in a fake-casual voice that he hoped was leading, “you deal with the supernatural here, right?”

“I assure you, nothing in these exhibits counts as ‘natural.’”

“Right. Well—I’ve heard some rumors about stuff in this town.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Specifically, stuff that happened around here last August?”

The girl finally looked up. “Oh, right. ‘Never mind all that.’” She gave Dib a wry look, like this was some inside joke that she expected him to get. Then she slid his bumper sticker across the counter, along with a penny in change, and went back to her magazine.

It was her tone, more mocking than deceptive, which finally set Dib off. He pounded the counter, causing her to jump.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You have a museum dedicated to the paranormal, but you still won’t tell me about the actual paranormal phenomena that you obviously know?!

“Do you think you’re being clever?!” he continued, now pacing back in forth in front of the desk, gesturing wildly at the air. “Every person in this town says that same thing! This couldn’t be a more obvious cover-up! And then I waste ten dollars on a bribe, and you still won’t cut me a break? You think I actually want this?!” He waved the overpriced bumper sticker in front of the girl, who continued to stare. “If you think you’re fooling anyone, you’re wrong, and I am not leaving this town until I uncover the truth!”

He ended by pointing dramatically in the girl’s face, then lowered his arm, breathing heavily.

A few seconds passed before she spoke.

“I go on break in five minutes. Sneak into the back room, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Dib blinked. Then he gave a manic grin, grabbed his bumper stick and hurried in the direction she had pointed.

#Invader Zim #Gravity Falls #Invader Falls #Dib #Dib Membrane #Wendy Corduroy #Lazy Susan #Deputy Durland #WritersMonth2021 #Invader Zim fanfiction #Gravity Falls fanfiction

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creepypso · 4 years

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Since I have a lot of time to think while shading the pictures for the animatic, I came up with some story ideas and “what ifs”. Normally I just keep them to myself or write some down..

But since I’m feel a little confident, I thought I can share some!

Firstly.. I don’t know why but for some reason, the ideas I actually drew pictures for are.. kinda mean to Zim haha I swear I also have some ideas that are more nicer.

---

To explain the first idea: Over the last days I read a few gory fanfics, where Dib had been able to capture Zim and well, then dissected him.

And while I read I felt really bad for Zim and just hoped that he will be able to escape and then jump into his voot and fly away from everything ;w;

But then earlier while I drew, I started thinking what could happen after Dib let Zim go. And then I thought, him escaping into space.. is pretty boring. And not like Zim at all. What would be his next goal? And he is not on earth simply to spend some time there. He has a mission. And the mission is to conquer it (even if the tallest don’t really care and think he is not able to do it, but for Zim it’s still his mission). Running away is not something he would do.

So what if after Dib let Zim go, thinking that he had once and for all won against the alien, Zim just returned to his base. And after a few days, went to school again.

He had to continue the mission to prove to the tallest and himself, that he was able to do this. And admitting defeat is not something he wanted to even think about.

---

Dib on the other hand hadn’t expected Zim to be back. Actually the opposite; he was able to do his research and reached almost all the goals he had. The goal of wanting to protect the earth from Zim was supposed to be reached as well. He didn’t want to kill Zim but he knew that earth would only be truly save if the invader disappeared and so he thought he could shock and scare the other enough, so he leaves by himself.

Yet there he was, sitting across the room, looking out of energy and being quieter than normally. However, he was still trying everything to hide it and to appear like his normal Zim-self.

But even if Zim tried, it was quite obvious that something was off. What Dib had done had broken something inside him (and not just bones :D I’m sorry-). Before Zim had seen him as an equal opponent and even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, respected Dibs determination. But after seeing how far the other had no problem going, Zim realized that Dib had lost that respect and the right to be seen as an equal. Sadly however, the feeling of respect twisted into a feeling of fear.

The joy he had felt when he normally tried to challenge the human or had plans to annoy him, was gone and now he just hated being anywhere near Dib. But his mind continuously told him that he needed to act like before Dib had captured him to not blow his cover and for the mission. So he forced himself to continue the daily routines.

He also didn’t want to care about Dibs opinion on his plans anymore. All he needed to do, is finish the mission as fast as possible and then the armada will come and get rid of the human.

---

Dib didn’t know what he was supposed to feel or do but he quickly learned one thing and that was, that he hated how Zim ignored him, flinched away or avoided him all together. There were no angry threats towards Dib and no stupid, petty plans he could stop. This was nothing like the Zim he knew.

After a while it slowly settled in his mind, that Zim was only acting like that because of him. At first it amused and satisfied him but very soon he came to the conclusion that.. he absolutely despised Zims coldness towards him. It bored him to no end. Since the day Dib had freed Zim, his days had become bland and missing the excitement that came with fighting the alien. And now he couldn’t even focus on new projects with Zim still being so close to him. But the alien showed no sign of actually doing anything.

He still has all the research. Maybe threatening or actually publishing it would get the fire back into Zim?

Or maybe the fire never really left and Dib was simply not allowed to be a part of Zims plans anymore?

#Invader Zim #Zim #Dib #zade #story idea #au?#my idea #probably been done before considering how old the fandom is #but I still wanted to share it :3 #creepys art

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monofpoke4life · 3 years

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What Goes Around...

The discord I’m a part of had a Secret Santa, so here’s the zagr fluff I wrote. Please Enjoy.

"Stupid Zim! Stupid Dib! Stupid stupid field trip," Gaz growled as she hastily wiped away her silent tears. Her words echoing off the empty bathroom walls.

She shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself tighter, providing what little warmth she could for her bare upper half. Her cheeks flaming with what had happened earlier.

Her eyes closed as what transpired just five minutes ago replayed in her head.

She waded out into waist deep water to cool off, and to give her Game Slave a break. She was enjoying the contrast of the sun on her face and shoulders and the cool water at her waist when she heard it.

The fucking insane screaming of her brother and Zim, as they fought about who knew whatever it was they were fighting about. Rolling her eyes, she dove under, and resurfaced a moment later, content to ignore them and resign their blathering to the background as always.

That had been her first mistake as she took the chance to subtly adjust her bikini top, frustrated that she tied it a tad too tight. She should've paid more attention, and then maybe she wouldn't be in this damn mess that she now found herself in.

Suddenly, she made her second mistake as she heard Dib's annoying screams rapidly growing closer, and turned around just in time to see Dib flying at her.

Her wide eyes narrowed as she regained her composure to briefly glare at the proud green bean, on the beach, who had just yeeted her brother in her direction.

With a sigh, she had stepped back to avoid getting crushed by Dib's average-but-fun-to-tease large head, and that's when she stepped into her third mistake. She should've taken more than one step. She should've gotten the hell out of there! But no. She calmly waited so she could taunt him about it.

However, whatever clever remark on the tip of her tongue was lost as a flailing Dib made contact with the water with a sickening slap of skin, and his hand desperately reached out to catch himself on anything he could use to pull himself up with.

A gasp escaped her lips as she was suddenly jerked forward by her bikini top. A millisecond later, as Dib disappeared beneath the murky lake water, there was a tug, the tearing of fabric, and then weightlessness. The unsettling kind that let her know that her brother wasn't hanging on her anymore...because there wasn't something to hang onto anymore.

Her eyes squeezed shut at the part of the memory. Her cheeks burned, her throat grew tight, and her teeth ground together at the memory of her practically punching herself in the chest in her attempt to cover herself. She didn't have time to punish her brother as she took off to the closest building, the bathrooms, where she now found herself locked within.

"Fucking bullshit," Gaz snarled and slammed a fist into the side of the stall. She hated to act dramatic like one of her ditzy classmates that this was, "the end of the world," but it was! Oh it absolutely was! At least, it was to her reputation.

Now, after this horrible incident, even if they were still scared of her, they would still snicker at the memory of the girl who flashed the lake. No matter how many beatings she gave or threats she made, her reputation would forever remain tarnished for the rest of her time at school.

"When I get out of here those idiots will pay! Not even gnats will find their entrails when I-"

Her rant was cut short as she heard the restroom door open.

With a frown she quietly pulled her legs up to rest her feet upon the seat as she didn't want anyone to know she was still here. She just wanted to hide or evaporate into the ether. Just anywhere but there, and just forget about that day.

As the women did their business and gossiped afterwards in front of the mirrors as they primped their hair and reapplied makeup, Gaz quietly sighed and buried her face into her knees.

This was the worst day of her life, and it couldn't get any worse.

"LITTLE GAZ WHERE ARE YOU?"

"AHHH!"

"A boy!"

"This is the girl's room!"

"Get the fuck out!"

"You filthy, flabby skinned hyoomans cannot tell the mighty ZIM what to do! I shall leave when my business is done!!!"

As chaos graced her ears, Gaz groaned and gently hit her head against her knees repeatedly. Apparently things could get worse, and the dookie was going to hit the fan.

"We're getting security!"

"Begone MOPS!"

Gaz couldn't stop the snicker from escaping her lips at the misspoken meme as the door banged shut behind the pack of screeching harpies.

As the door bounced open, and slowly drifted shut, Gaz became hyper aware that she and Zim, who was apparently looking for her, were the only ones left alone inside.

Wanting to get this done sooner rather than later, Gaz lowered her feet, straightened her back, and crossed her arms over her chest, as she growled, "What do you want, Zim?"

At the sound of her voice, Zim pivoted on his heel, boots scratching against cement, and strutting towards her stall.

"My reasons, Little Gaz, are my own," he sneered, as she watched his boots stop in front of her stall and turn around. Not daring to take a chance at looking at her. Smart guy. For once.

Gaz opened her mouth to say something back, but stopped as a breeze from the open window sent a chill down her spine.

Shuddering, Gaz barely heard the sound of ruffling clothing, but she did hear the slight jostle of the stall door. Her head snapped up, and her eyes widened. There, hung over the door and held in place, was Zim's outer, magenta tunic.

"What's that for?" She growled impatiently. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, especially seeing it without an ulterior motive. Not that she didn't try to see one. However, she couldn't think of one. It's not like he planned this. He wasn't smart enough for that, especially with how hard he tried to get out of this field trip. Not to mention to have the brains to understand she'd be vulnerable in a moment like this.

It was silent for a moment, before Zim awkwardly cleared his throat.

"A soldier should not be caught without armor."

Okay...maybe he understood more than she thought.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she stood up, gently yet quickly, plucking it out of his grasp.

The material wasn't so bad. This would do to fetch her things so she could properly change. Maybe she'll just maim him a bit.

However, as she began to pull it over her head, she froze at what he said next.

"I-I...Zim is sorry."

"What?"

"I threw the Dib-weasle at you on purpose in the hope that you would doom him. I did not anticipate the loss of your chest thingy."

Her fists clenched the alien material, pulling it down and into place, as she slowly inquired, "If you knowingly messed up, then why are you here? Shouldn't you be running and screaming?"

"Hmph, Irken Invaders never run."

"Then what was last Thursday?"

"...A strategic retreat."

"A very loud strategic retreat."

At that, Zim grew silent. Clearly throwing a silent fit that she had a point, Zim refused to acknowledge her statement, for that would mean admitting she, a "stinky human" was right.

She merely smoothed out the wrinkles of the sleeveless tunic, and quietly basked with a smirk upon her lips. At least something got a predictable response from him. But, seriously, what was up with him? First the tunic and now an apology? What was next?

Gaz opened the stall and Zim immediately jumped back. His back brushing against the adjacent sink. He looked back and tugged at his light-pink, long sleeved shirt to make sure it didn't come into contact with any sink water. Finding none, he instinctively wiped his gloved hands against his black leggings.

"You never answered my question, Zim."

"Eh? What question?"

Gaz took a deep breath, one arm still crossed over her chest, as the tunic, which made a nice coverup, was still quite thin.

She took a threatening step forward. Zim gulped at this, as she elaborated, "Why aren't you 'strategically retreating from me?"

At this, Zim straightened his back and shoulders, arms clenched at his sides, and eyes closed. He looked like he was ready to face a firing squad, and with the wrath she's inflicted upon him in the past, that comparison was highly accurate.

He raised his chin up high, sweating bullets, as he finally answered. "To run from you is pointless. I know no matter where I go, no matter where I hid- retreat to, you, Little Gaz, would find me despite my far superior Irken training. I came to you, sparing your pitiful human time and effort, in hopes that you may hurt me less than you normally would."

Ah. That made sense. Zim would do anything to save his own skin.

"Turning yourself in? That's all?" She inquired with suspicious eyes and incredulous brows raised. Shouldn't he be bragging and begging for extra mercy for the "peace offering" he provided as well?

At this, Zim's eyes opened, suddenly relaxed, as he shrugged.

"Erm eh, yeah that's about it."

"Nothing else you did to escape a nightmare world of pain?"

"Nope. Nothing."

Gaz glared at him, and watched his every movement, watching for his body language to give himself away as usual. However, he just stood there, blinking owlishly at her.

Her cheeks started to feel warm, but she easily fought it down as she quickly closed the short distance between them.

"Ow!!!" Zim yelled in pain as his hand flew up to his throbbing shoulder. Despite, "surrendering" himself to her punishment, he glared indignantly at her as she pulled her fist away.

"That, whiner, is for throwing Dib at me and causing all of this!"

Her free hand pulled back again, and Zim froze with his eyes clenched shut, expecting another hit. However, the pain never came even as he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. He squeezed his eyes tighter as he was jerked sideways, probably to be kneed or something, and yet nothing happened except his side bumping into hers.

Zim's eyes flew open just in time to see her release him from her one-armed hug.

He didn't get a chance to fully process it, as Gaz softly said, "And that's for lending me this. I can actually get my stuff from the buses now and change. Thanks."

"Oh, heh heh, of course. Totally did that on purpose. You may praise Zim more, Gus."

As Gaz opened the door, she frowned and rolled her eyes before she asked, "Hey, where is my brother anyway?"

"The Dib-feet? He ran into the forest when you ran in here."

She huffed. Of course he did.

However, this information made her smirk to herself, and when she opened the door, the sight beyond her made her smirk widen.

"Ya know, maybe when I find Dib, maybe I'll doom him a little extra. Just for you."

Out of the corner she watched him punch the ai as he exclaimed, "Yes! Just as I planned! Victory for ZIM!"

She rolled her eyes with a small smile at that, before she began to the long treck to the parking lot.

Zim came to the doorway and stood, watching her go with his chest puffed in pride.

She gave a wave as she, not even looking back, called, "Thanks again, Zimothy."

At the use of her demeaning, non-Zim name, Zim began to throw a small gremlin fit. However, he didn't get very far, didn't even get to scream or yell, as the women from before, with park rangers, swiftly approached him.

"There he is, officer! That's the little pervert who went inside the girl's restroom."

Meanwhile, as Gaz kicked a pinecone along the asphalt, she snickered as Zim's screams could be heard from off in the distance. Maybe she'd make it up to him some day, but for now, she'd bask in the karma freebie the universe gifted to her.

#Invader zim #gaz membrane #gazlene membrane #zagf #zagr #dib membrane #dib #discord secret santa #what goes around comes around

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rissynicole · 3 years

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Any suggestions for writing dialogues? I mean, when it comes to punctuations and actions the characters perform.

Okay, this ask has been in my inbox for months at this point, and I've been saving it because 1) I wanted to write something meaningful and 2) I didn't know what I could write that hasn't already been said ad nauseam by other writers. I still don't know if anything I say will be particularly groundbreaking, but I'll try to be helpful. Keep in mind, I'm a young writer, myself. I'm still learning new things every day, and I'm far from a guru in the field.

This got long, so I’m going to put it under the cut:

The first thing I did was ask my mother this question, because I was interested in hearing her answer. She doesn't write fiction, herself, but she has been in the editing game for 30 some-odd years. She edits fiction for Harper Collins Publishing and has an eye for these things. However, her answer to this was very plain and simple.

She said, "All editing and punctuation exists to serve one key purpose: to not confuse the reader."

As far as grammar goes, that's the main goal. I was looking for something a little more hard and fast--some sort of rule in a style guide--and y'know, I'm sure there is a rule out there. But in a fairly fluid world of fiction writing and "rules are meant to be broken" mentalities, the most important thing to heed is the comprehension of your reader. As soon as you’ve confused your reader, you’ve made a mistake. Not a failure--but a mistake that needs to be fixed. I’ve made them; I’ve fixed them. Dialogue can be a particularly tricky area, because it’s like a minefield for these mistakes.

I’ll add an example of my dialogue and break it down a little bit:

‘“Soldier?’ Red said, interrupting the beginning of another gushing tirade.

Larb's grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up. ‘…Yes?’

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line.’

His eyes dropped back down to the controls. ‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again.’”

First and foremost, it should be clear who is speaking. I help this along by making sure the characters’ actions are in the same paragraph as their speech. It keeps it more comprehensive. Otherwise, it would read like this:

‘“Soldier?’ Red said, interrupting the beginning of another gushing tirade.

Larb's grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up.

‘…Yes?’

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line.’

His eyes dropped back down to the controls.

‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again.’”

Not completely indecipherable, but distracting enough to make the reader re-read it a few times. As far as formatting goes, it’s also not very pretty. Now, I’m not perfect with this. In fact, I still need to go through Parade and reformat some sections that might read like the above. However, it is a readability rule that I’m trying to follow more closely.

Another difficulty with ensuring you’re making it clear who’s speaking can be the use of pronouns. I’ll be the first to admit, writing with multiple characters who all use the same pronouns can be incredibly difficult. You can’t always just use “he said” as a tag. It’s too easy to hit a snag where the reader gets confused and doesn’t know who “he” is.

‘“Soldier?’ he said, interrupting the beginning of another gushing tirade.

His grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up. ‘…Yes?’

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line.’

His eyes dropped back down to the controls. ‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again.’”

Sure, maybe this short passage isn’t so bad; It’s still fairly clear who’s speaking. But imagine if the entire book was that way: three, maybe four characters in the same room who all use he/his pronouns speaking without any further identification. It would get confusing and distracting. Lots of reading passages over again to try to decipher who is saying what and lots of frustration on the reader’s part. At the same time, always using the characters’ names can be tedious and unnecessary. Finding a good balance isn’t always easy, but it is worth it.

The golden rule, for me, is exactly as my mother said: “Do not confuse the reader.”

Below, I’ll add some additional dialogue tips I have picked up:

Constantly adding a tag can get tedious.

‘“Soldier?’ Red interrupted, cutting off the beginning of another gushing tirade.

Larb's grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up. ‘…Yes?’ he inquired.

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line,” Red replied.

His eyes dropped back down to the controls. ‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again,’” he muttered.

Sure, this makes sense. It’s clear who’s speaking. But it also doesn’t read as smoothly. Not to mention, the overabundance of different transitive verbs (interrupted, inquired, muttered), is stilted and almost mechanical in how the dialogue reads. Oftentimes, “said” is perfectly fine. Fun words like “muttered” and “interrupted” are great, too, but in moderation. Finding a happy medium can make all the difference.

Sometimes, a tag isn’t necessary at all.

This segues into my next piece of advice: it’s important to write dialogue in a way that still allows the reader to use their imagination. This is where I’ll go off on a bit of a rabbit trail, because this is something I’ve had to learn for myself recently.

Put trust in your reader to make up their own mind on how dialogue is spoken

I recently finished reading On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King (which, regardless of your opinions on King, was a very helpful book. I enjoyed it a lot). In one passage, he tells the reader to imagine an orange sitting on a table. Just that. He doesn’t give any further details. There is a 100% chance that we are all going to see something different in our minds. We are going to imagine a different table, a different room, and maybe even a different orange.

Sometime, description helps. Sometimes, a carefully placed lack of description lets the reader make up their own mind and encourages imagination. This advice has served me well in writing dialogue. I know it’s a tired old saying in any writer’s workshop: “never use adverbs in dialogue!” And to be honest, I still believe there can be a time and a place. But relying heavily on adverbs doesn’t do anything for the reader, except maybe shoehorn them into a state where they have to re-read dialogue with the new inflection.

‘“Soldier?’ Red said solemnly, interrupting the beginning of another gushing tirade.

Larb's grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up. ‘…Yes?’ he asked weakly.

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line,” he replied sternly, in a flat monotone.

His eyes dropped back down to the controls. ‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again,’ he said lowly, almost inaudibly.

Again, this feels stilted, and doesn’t really leave anything to the imagination.

To better emphasize what I mean by this, I want to use a real example of it in action. (I hope you don’t mind, @sunnymelonpan!) Shortly after I read this advice and starting cutting down on over-describing dialogue and using adverbs, I wrote some IZ sickfic prompts. A friend of mine decided to draw up a comic based on one of them. This was not only incredibly flattering, but unexpectedly enlightening. I was able to see firsthand how other readers interpreted my dialogue. And lemme tell you, it wasn’t always exactly how I had envisioned it.

Here’s some dialogue I wrote for the prompt in question:

“Dib swiped the thermometer from him and pushed his glasses up his nose while he read it. ‘That’s because it isn’t going down. Huh.’

‘S-some help y-y-you are,’ Zim sneered.

‘Hey, give me a break. I’m doing my best. This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend.’

Dib’s outline rose to its full height in Zim’s dimmed living room. He disappeared into the kitchen with the thermometer, then returned with something else in his hands. Without any warning, he placed it onto Zim’s forehead, scowling at the death glare he received in return.”

When I wrote this, I personally imagined Dib acting and speaking in a sort of annoyed, deflated way. Like he wasn’t really taking Zim’s harsh words seriously. Just a sort of eye-roll “yeah, whatever, Zim,” demeanor. That’s how I saw it.

This is how Sunny saw it:

In Sunny’s comic, Dib is genuinely angry. He gets annoyed, stands up, and actually berates Zim with these words.

I never made it clear how Dib spoke this line. Some people might look at this and say I failed as a writer because I didn’t explicitly say that Dib’s line was more casual than angry. I disagree. I left it up to the reader to interpret it as they chose. And Sunny surprised me by interpreting it in a way that was different. Not wrong! Just different. I positively loved seeing Sunny’s interpretation of my prompt. It let me see my writing in the eyes of others; it showed me that I was able to describe scenes while still allowing my readers to use their imaginations.

As a fiction writer, it is not my job to be a stagehand and tell the reader every minute detail of the scene I’m writing. Instead, it is my job to guide them through the story and allow them to envision parts of the story as they see fit. This is especially true with dialogue.

So let’s go back to the original excerpt from Parade that I was using as an example:

‘“Soldier?’ Red said, interrupting the beginning of another gushing tirade.

Larb's grin faded a bit around the edges as he glanced up. ‘…Yes?’

‘Just remember: you're walking a very thin line.’

His eyes dropped back down to the controls. ‘Yes, my Tallest… It won't happen again.’”

In this passage, I tried to apply all these rules:

Make it clear who’s speaking.

Use tags sparingly. Sometimes, “said” works just fine.

Use adverbs sparingly and don’t fall over yourself trying to describe everything.

The dialogue flows smoothly, it is clear who is speaking, and the reader can decide how it’s being spoken. Is Red angry? Impatient? Completely void of emotion in his words? Is Larb scared out of his wits? Trying to keep up a facade of bravery? Who knows! I sure don’t! I’m just the writer! It’s up to YOU to decide.

So... yeah! I know my advice wasn’t particularly groundbreaking, but I hope it was an interesting read, nonetheless.

#writing advice #rissy's asks #rissy rambles #ladyanaconda #keep in mind #i am not a professional writer #i have my degree in communication not english #i just write a lot and have the help of some professionals in my life #i also still have a lot to learn #so i am in no way some sort of sacred fountain of wisdom #sorry if i have some grammar errors too #i know that must make me look like a hypocrite #i'll try to go through later and fix as many as i can catch #this was kind of a 'stream of consciousness' post

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vampirepiggyhunterdefensesquad · 3 years

Text

all’s fair (1/?)

Summary: Gaz decides that she’s going to win the school’s paintball war and enjoy the all-you-can-eat pizza buffet from Bloaty’s afterwards. However, there is a certain green nuisance who’s standing in her way. . .

Gaz never listened in class, so naturally she didn't bother listening when Mr. Elliot began rambling about a school-wide event. She merely squinted at the game device under her desk, buttons clicking ever so slightly as her fingers tapped with expert dexterity. Even the flyer that was dropped beside her got crumpled and shoved into her backpack as soon as it touched the desk.

That meant it was only when Dib began talking about it on the way home from school that Gaz heard about the paintball war.

"I mean, what's the point? We already know Zim's just going to find a way to cheat. And the worst part is, he hates pizza anyway! He's just crazy about winning all the time--"

"What's pizza got to do with it?" Gaz scoffed, listening despite herself.

"C'mon, Gaz, weren't you listening? That's the prize! You get a coupon for a free sit down, all you can eat family dinner!"

Her eyes widened for a moment before she snorted. "Like Dad would take the night off for us to go anyway."

"And Zim doesn't even HAVE a family!" Dib continued, squeezing his hands into fists. "But when Miss Bitters told us about the paintball war, he got all excited and asked a bunch of STUPID questions, and--"

"Paintball?"

Dib's eyes swiveled towards her. "Well, yeah. And Zim thinks he's somehow got a chance of winning!"

Gaz turned her attention back to her game as Dib continued his rant all the way home. Outwardly, she was in the same zone as before, but inside the cogs in her brain were turning. Dad liked charity events. He might make an exception to his "one evening a year" rule of thumb. And all-you-can-eat pizza was something that caught her attention. A whole evening of video games and free pizza. . .

So Gaz may have stayed up a bit longer than usual perched on the sofa, drawing, but that didn't have to do with anything.

Around eleven-forty the front door swung open and Professor Membrane finally arrived home.

"Ah! Girl-child! Why are you still awake? You know that children require at least NINE HOURS of sleep in order to be well rested for the morning!"

Gaz ignored this. "Dad. If I won a paintball war my school put on for charity or whatever, and got us a coupon for a free sit-down dinner. You'd come, right?"

"Why, daughter, you know how busy I am with REAL SCIENCE!!" Membrane reached into the air, gesturing proudly and widely. "But I also deeply respect the art of PAINTBALL WARS! Why, as a boy, it was my favorite hobby."

"It was?"

"Of course!! Second to SCIENCE, of course." Membrane walked to the stairs, patting Gaz on the head lightly as he passed her. "I might take an interest in seeing this paintball war! When will it occur?"

Gaz, who had definitely not spent a chunk of time memorizing the information on the crumpled flyer from her bag, said "It's on Friday after school. We have a half day, so right after lunch."

"FRIDAY?" Membrane turned dramatically, clapping his hands to his head. "Why, Friday is the day we're organizing the data we've been collecting these past few weeks! It's merely busywork, and hardly science at all. I will certainly be able to visit your school that afternoon! And if you or your brother are able to win, I see no reason why we cannot have the dinner that evening!”

Gaz's mouth fell open. She hadn't expected it to be this easy. Family dinner, at her favorite restaurant, as long as she was able to destroy her opponents? This was the most perfect situation she'd ever encountered. Maybe the universe didn't hate her after all. . .

As Membrane thumped up the stairs in his big boots, Gaz couldn't keep the smile off her face. She dropped her sketchbook on the table and headed up to her room-- Dad was right, after all. She needed sleep if she was going to be in peak form come Friday.

. . . .

"So, uh, who are you and what have you done with Gaz?" Dib asked tentatively.

Gaz shoveled another spoonful of cereal in her mouth. "What do you mean."

"I MEAN, you just laughed at one of my jokes. And said, and I quote, 'nice'."

"What, I'm not allowed to think you said something funny, once in a blue moon?" She rolled her eyes. "Great, Dib."

"Come on, you know what I meant! Did something happen? Was your brain erased by a ghost??"

He reached out to poke her forehead. Gaz swatted his hand away viciously. "Quit it! There's no ghosts, Dib. Is it so hard to believe I could be in a good mood?"

Dib nodded. "Yes."

"Ugh." She tossed her half-eaten bowl in the sink and snagged her backpack, tugging it on and heading for the door.

"Wait, Gaz, don't leave!" he rectified quickly, "I can't let you out of my sight! Zim knows who's a threat to his 'victory' or whatever and I'm pretty sure I saw him looking at you at recess! He's probably planning to--"

Gaz whirled around, effectively cutting him off with her scowl. "You know what, Dib?" she spat. "I don't really care what Zim does. This week, I don't give a crap about him. He can do whatever he wants, but he's not winning that paintball battle. He's not even a threat."

She stomped out the door. Dib took another bite out of his banana.

"I thought you didn't care about paintball!" he called after her, but she was already gone.

Dib wasn't the only one who was worried by Gaz's improved mood. Several schoolchildren ducked for cover upon seeing her smile. One jock jumped into an open locker when they made eye contact in the hallway.

Mr. Elliot was the only one stupid enough to be delighted. "Gazlene! Great to see such a happy expression on your face. Did something happen?"

"I'm going to destroy all of you," she replied, with a tinge of cheerfulness to her usually dour tone.

Her teacher's smile became forced. "Great! Good to hear it. Does anyone have any questions on number four?"

Well, that wasn't exactly true. There was one other person who seemed to be immune to Gaz's slight mood shift. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice it at all.

Zim.

The stupid alien hadn't talked to her or even looked at her, so far as she could remember, since that time he tried waving his ugly pus-filled pimple at her. She'd ignored him then, and when he approached her in the hallway rush between science and english class, she ignored him again.

"Hey. Dib-sister. Hey. Hey."

Her game was out, as was her custom for classroom changes, and her ears were off.

Zim prodded her shoulder, normally a death sentence. But Gaz wasn't feeling particularly volatile at the moment. . . Perhaps she'd hit him a few extra times with some paintballs. Maybe, if she was lucky, he'd writhe in agony as the liquid hit his weird green skin.

"Hey! Dib-sister! Dib-sister! Little Gaz!

Gaz's very slight smile curdled and she whirled around. "Excuse me?"

Zim's put out expression disappeared, replaced by a little smirk.

"Little-Gaz," re repeated. "I take it you have heard about the BATTLE that will take place at the end of the school week."

"I have nothing to say to you, Zim." Gaz met his eyes levelly, expression dark. "Get out of my way so I can get to class."

"Oh, but I have some things to say to you," he sneered, crossing his arms. "You see, I believe you are one of the few humans who might stand a chance against me."

Gaz didn't dignify him with a response, instead walking around him towards her classroom.

"Hey!" he said, offended. She didn't stop walking, so he trailed behind her. Really couldn't take a hint. . .

"I have a proposition for you, HUMAN!! HEY! LISTEN TO ME!!!!"

Gaz flipped him off casually as she swung the door to her classroom shut in his face.

And that was that.

. . . Or, it should have been.

At lunch, Zim attempted to approach their table, but Dib had chucked a glob of baked beans from his tray and managed to hit him right in the forehead, sending Zim screeching out of the cafeteria. Gaz snickered as Dib laughed, and it wasn't horrible.

After school, Zim trailed them, following Dib and Gaz's trek home at about a ten foot distance. Dib had wanted to throw some books at him, but Gaz just grabbed Dib's wrist and yanked them off the sidewalk onto a side path through the park. Sure enough, Zim had gotten lost and might still have been wandering around when the Membrane siblings arrived safe and sound even quicker than normal.

"We should do this more often!" Dib had cheered when they slammed the door shut, delighted at their victory.

"Whatever," Gaz said. "He was being annoying." But a tiny smile flickered on her lips.

"So, Gaz--"

"Don't get used to it," she said firmly. "I still think your cryptid hunting junk is stupid."

Dib slumped over on his chair, disappointment clear on his face. He didn't speak, so Gaz rolled her eyes and headed up to her room. It may have been kinda fun to get rid of Zim, but the fact that he kept trying to talk to her was obnoxious. She didn't do him the respect of hearing him out, but she knew what he wanted: to form an alliance so that he could betray her in the end and claim victory for himself. Pathetic. Zim wanted to talk to her, was paying attention to her, and it was just to feed his stupid ego. Typical.

Gaz could feel her good mood start to seep away, but a few rounds of VPH made her feel a bit better. Soon, she'd be dooming people in real life, with no cares about whether anyone saw her. In fact, they might even be cheering.

And then, pizza.

#zadf #zagf #zim #gaz #invader zim #zagr #it will probably be vague tho dont worry #my stuff #this is still being written so like if you want more say so hfgjkfgh

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snappedsky · 3 years

Text

Fanatics 81.5

Round Two: Monster Fight! Monster Fight!

*Links to previous and next chapters in reblog*

Reawakening Part 5

Zim, Dib, Gaz, Tak, and Pepito cluster together on the ground, glaring exhaustedly up at Zoli. She stands over them, grinning victoriously as she rests her scythe on her shoulders.

“If it helps, none of you stood a chance,” she says, “you’re just a couple of weird humans, lost aliens, and one failed devil. Only a true monster can defeat another.”

“I can be a monster,” Pepito snarls.

“Can you?” she questions, cocking her eyebrow. “Or are you too scared? Scared of scaring your friends and yourself?”

�� “You could never scare us, Pepito,” Dib insists.

“Yeah, we know you’re the Antichrist,” Gaz adds, “it’s cool.”

“How sweet,” Zoli coos, “but it doesn’t change how he feels about himself.”

“I am the Antichrist,” Pepito growls as he struggles to his feet. “I am.” “You sure are,” she patronizes. “But you don’t want to be.”

Pepito’s glare drops and he falls back to his knees.

Zoli scoffs. “Only a true monster can defeat monster.”

She raises her scythe. As she prepares to swing, the other kids grab Pepito to try to dodge. Then Zoli freezes.

A sound is heard in the near distance, like crashing thunder. They all look towards the left as it gets closer and realize it’s more like heavy footfalls.

A figure approaches from down the road, cracking the asphalt with every step.

“Zoli!” he roars.

“Johnny…?” Zoli questions, stunned.

Johnny crashes into her, sending her flying into the nearest building. It immediately crumbles down on top of her.

The kids stare up at Johnny with a mixture of fear and awe. There seems to be an aura radiating around him as his fingers twitch and his hair and the torn hem of his coat quiver with an almost life of their own.

“Now that’s a monster,” Gaz comments.

Johnny looks at them and they flinch, frozen beneath his petrifying glare. And then in a blink, it’s his normal scowl, which for the first time ever, is almost comforting for them to see.

“Where’s Squee?” he asks.

“Uh, we thought he was at your house,” Dib replies.

“Go to him!” Johnny barks, “now!”

The kids jump to their feet, suddenly reinvigorated, and clamber into the Epic.

“It’s not gonna fly,” Zim warns, “so we’re just gonna have to drive.”

“Let’s just hurry,” Pepito demands.

Johnny watches as they drive off before turning his attention to the fallen building. The piled up rubble is blown away as Zoli stands up, mostly unharmed except for some cuts and scrapes, but she is nonetheless pissed.

“What does it take to kill you?” she screams furiously, the Nightmare appendages bursting from her back.

“I was wondering the same thing about you,” Johnny snarls, his monster aura taking over.

Zoli shouts as her tendrils lunge towards him. Johnny roars in response and charges forward. With his bare hands, he claws through the appendages until the two of them are face-to-face.

Zoli lifts her scythe as Johnny draws a knife and they swing at each other. The blades connect, causing a shockwave that shatters all the windows on the street.

They hold that parry, glaring over their weapons for a second, before Johnny draws another knife. He jabs over the handle of Zoli’s scythe towards her face. She ducks down, breaking the parry and dodging his blade and putting herself right in front of Johnny’s swinging leg.

He kicks her hard in the face, sending her flying across the road and smashing into a wall. She groans painfully as she lies in the pile of rubble and before she can get up, she sees Johnny leaping down on top of her.

She barely lifts her scythe fast enough to block his knives, the blades stabbing into the handle. Johnny presses down, applying more and more pressure until the handle snaps in half.

Johnny’s knives plummet towards Zoli’s face. But before they can connect, more Nightmare tendrils burst from her back and ram into Johnny, knocking him away. He lands on his feet, skidding to a stop, and glares at Zoli. She freezes as she starts to stand up, almost like a force is pushing down on her from his daunting eyes.

“What…are you…?” she asks, taken aback.

“Your monster,” he snarls.

Meanwhile, another monster fight is taking place. Jimmy’s Nightmare tendrils lunge towards Reverend Meat. He grabs them all with his big hands and pulls, yanking Jimmy off his feet and right into Reverend Meat’s foot. He breaks in half like a twig and the tendrils disappear into shadows.

Dillon’s tendrils lash out at Sickness. She drops to the ground and headspins, slicing through them with her bladed legs. Then she flips back onto her feet and charges Dillon with incredible speed. Before he can react, she slices him in half with one kick.

Edgar and Krik attack the Doughboys with their tendrils. The agile twins easily dodge them with flips and hops and by running along the lengths of the tentacles until they reach the zombies. Then Eff grabs Edgar’s head and D-boy grabs Krik’s, and with one smooth jump and twist, the Doughboys rip them off.

The Night Terrors stand together, grinning as they watch the zombies regenerate and get back up.

“Ready for another round?” Eff asks.

The zombies growl in response and release more Nightmare appendages that lunge out.

“Good,” D-boy smirks.

The Night Terrors rip, slice, and tear through the tendrils with enjoyable ease. The zombies don’t even have a chance to defend themselves before they are once again torn apart and tossed aside like trash.

“Woo, I can do this all day,” Reverend Meat cheers as he stretches his arm.

“As long as they keep regenerating, then we can,” Sickness points out, smiling.

The zombies do regenerate again but just when they’re about to attack, they stop and look off into the distance with shock.

“Zoli?” Edgar questions.

“M’lady!” Jimmy gasps and all four of them run off.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Eff asks.

“Zoli,” Tess whimpers.

“What?” Sickness questions as they turn to look at her. She’s curled up on the ground, gripping her head.

“She’s…calling us. Beckoning us,” she says, gritting her teeth in pain. “I can feel her…tugging at my soul. Clawing at me.” “You know where she is?” Reverend Meat asks.

Tess nods and looks up with surprise as he sticks out his hand.

“Take us to her.”

---

“I will not stand for this.”

“There is nothing you can do. He is beyond help and far too valuable to the Nightmare now. Better we focus on the rest of the world and not waste our time and energy on him.”

“I don’t care about the rest of the world. I only care about him.”

“Think about what you’re saying. If you leave now, then you will part from us forever.”

“Fine. I never needed you anyway.”

“Wait.” “What now?”

“I wanna come too.”

“…Alright. Let’s go then.”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #johnny the homicidal maniac #johnny the homicidal maniac fanfiction #iz jthm crossover #myart #myocs

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writeyouin · 4 years

Note

Can you make a short follow up fic thing for the Zim x emotionless reader thing you wrote??? (Obviously only if you wanna-)

Zim X Reader – Mind Control Part 2 of 3

A/N – It’s always fun to write a bit of goofiness. So, have fun with this.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Dib tore off the latest chart from his printer, scanning it quickly for the results. This was his life now, monitoring you all day everyday with his newly improved spy gear and then rushing home to check the results on his computer.

His hands shook as he read the results. He scrunched up the paper and threw it to the floor, falling dramatically to his knees afterwards.

"Nooooooooooooooo," He yelled, stopping only once to take a breath before continuing, "-oooooooooooo!"

Seemingly from nowhere, Dib was struck in the head. He looked to the floor for what had hit him. He found a grotesque figure of Bloaty the Pizza Hog wrapped in paper. Unfurling the paper around the figure’s stomach, Dib found a note which read ‘SHUT UP OR SUFFER!’

"Wha'?" Dib mumbled, rubbing his sore head.

"Heed the note, Dib."

Dib yelped at the sound of his sister's disgruntled voice. He turned to find her glaring at him.

"Heed the note," She repeated in a growl before returning to her room, presumably to play more video games in peace.

Dib took a deep breath and tried to relax, but it was no use. How could he relax when he knew that what you had previously written in your diary was true? You really did have a crush on Zim.

The only positive of the scenario was that ever since their last fight, Zim had disappeared. While he was probably planning something despicable, Zim’s absence did give Dib some time to break Zim’s hold over you before you became more enamoured with him.

“Alright,” Dib breathed. “Time for a game plan.”

While Dib tried to form a coherent plan for Operation Crush the Crush, Zim was cackling maniacally within his hideout. He very quickly regretted laughing however as Gir mimicked the sound, squealing uncontrollably from the floor below.

“GIR, STOP THAT NOISE!” Zim commanded. “I need to think… Hmm, now that I know what this ‘crush’ is, I need a plan to make (Y/N) my first human slave. How do I use the emotional failure to my advantage? HOW?”

Zim could have spent months pondering that very question. He could have formed a dozen overly-convoluted plans wherein he would use the finest Irkin technology to ensure your fealty. Fortunately, Gir was there to yell his own plan which helped Zim greatly.

“DO THE MOVIE THING!” The small robot screamed, clapping his hands together. “SAY I LOVES YOU AND GIVE (Y/N) A MILKSHAKE.”

“GIR, THAT’S BRILLIANT,” Zim praised his loyal servant. “If I pretend to be (Y/N)’s love-monkey (s)he’’ will have to do whatever I say, just like my research suggests.”

Zim turned to the computer monitor where his ‘research’ was still playing. It was an old film called The Stepford Wives. As far as he knew, domestic partners were to do whatever their dates told them to do, for he had not paid much attention to the film; if he had, he might have known better. As far as Zim was concerned however, you were to be his first slave and all he had to do was give you a bunch of flowers, some chocolates and maybe even a ring if he so cared to; he decided that the flowers alone would do, mainly because he refused to get down on his knees for your attention.

At skool the next day, Zim searched the playground for you, noting it was where most of the festering pustule beings tended to congregate. Little did he know, Dib was on the other side, also searching for you.

“Move,” Zim growled, pushing some students to the side.

“Hey Zim, wanna play dodgeball?” One of the kids asked him, offering him the ball in question.

Furiously, Zim grabbed the ball, throwing it directly into the kid’s stomach and making him fall over in pain.

He allowed himself a small titter at the sight before continuing his journey to find you. In his backpack was a pathetic little bouquet, holding no more than three dried out snapdragons which looked like human skulls. He thought you would appreciate the macabre flowers since you obviously appreciated the finer things in life; you must have good taste if you liked him at the very least.

Finally, Zim spotted you, reading a book at the corner of the playground. Triumphantly, he approached you and grabbed your arm.

“Human (Y/N),” Zim began.

“NOT SO FAST!” Dib cried out, grabbing your other arm.

Zim glared at his arch-nemesis, “Let go Dib.”

“NO! YOU LET GO!”

“I HAD (Y/N) FIRST. NOW PUT IT DOWN.”

“I WON’T LET YOU WIN THIS TIME, ZIM.”

And so, while the other students watched, you were tugged back and forth between the arguing boys, though it was of little importance to you. You liked Zim and odd things just tended to happen around him.

“(Y/N) DOESN’T EVEN LIKE YOU,” Zim said smugly. “Right, (Y/N)?”

“(S)HE WOULDN’T LIKE YOU EITHER, IF (S)HE KNEW WHAT YOU REALLY ARE.”

Wordlessly, you tugged your arms from the pair, moving over to pick up your book which had been dropped when you were first grabbed. Dib watched you anxiously. Zim stared in anticipation.

“(Y/N),” Dib said humbly, “You’ve gotta see that he’s no good for you. Think to all the evil he’s done.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing of no times when Zim had been anything but a studious student; almost always the top of every class he took.

“Don’t listen to him, my passion-pig,” Zim pushed Dib casually out of the way. “Instead, listen to the language of LOVE.”

With a flourish, Zim pulled out the Snapdragons and presented them to you. If they didn’t work, he would most definitely resort to Plan B; a feathery dance he learned from a documentary on birds of paradise.

As it was however, you simply said, “I like flowers,” and took the bouquet.

Grinning victoriously, Zim offered his arm to you and just as the skool bell rang, walked you indoors. Dib, who had been left in the dirt, cursed his bad luck, and set about thinking of plans that might, one day, turn you against Zim.

Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.

#zim #invader zim #zim x reader #invader zim x reader #dib #gaz #reader #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #mind control #part 2 #chapter 2 #Anonymous

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artistictiliqua · 4 years

Note

So is the au like. the same setting and such without Zim being an alien but instead a dragon?

*rubs my shitty little gremlin hands together like a fly on a slice of bread* HOW ABOUT I JUST INFODUMP TO ANSWER UR QUESTION THANKS FOR ENABLING ME ANON

Basically, Dib takes it upon himself to find out why livestock and people are disappearing in his village (he knows it’s dragons, he’s seen it firsthand but nobody believes him ofc rip dib) and after utterly failing to pass a combat class (classes to prepare the kids of the village to fight rival vikings) and receiving a disappointed lecture from his dad, he storms off into the woods. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going or what’s around him so he doesn’t notice the deep gorge in front of him until he falls into it. Luckily he lands in a deep freshwater spring at the bottom, but he’s stuck in a labyrinth-like cave system and he fucked up his ankle in the fall so there’s no way he’s getting out for awhile. As if things couldn’t get bad enough, as the day shifts into night, a green dragon slinks out of the cave system, starts climbing the gorge walls, then stops when a breeze sweeps through the caves and carries Dib’s scent to the dragon.

Dib ends up having to run for his goddamn life through the gorge and is forced deeper and deeper into the caves as the dragon pursues him but eventually Dib’s leg gives out and the dragon towers over him, jaws gaping as it prepares to kill him… but it hesitates. Closes its mouth. Backs up to stare at Dib with almost humanoid pensiveness for a few moments. Then (since I’m taking a lot of creative liberties and zim wouldn’t be Zim if he didn’t have the ability to speak) it speaks in a chirping, clicking language. When Dib doesn’t react, it switches to speaking in broken English and inquires about Dib’s injury. Dib answers nervously, mostly worried that the dragon will kill him if he doesn’t respond, and after a few moments it talks again.

It takes a short time for Dib to catch on, but he eventually gathers that the dragon is offering to help him escape the caves solely ‘because humans smell terrible’. He explains where he came from, and the dragon helps Dib to his feet and offers itself as a support as they walk through the caves. Along the way, the dragon just rambles in tones Dib finds infuriating even though he can hardly understand what the dragon is boasting about. He gathers that the dragons underground see themselves as the superior species to humans (which isnt entirely wrong) and sneak aboveground to eat livestock and humans whenever they feel like it. Dib threatens to reveal the secret about the dragons underground, but the dragon laughs it off and says what Dib already knows: that nobody will believe him anyways.

Eventually, they reach the gorge where Dib fell into the caves and the dragon grabs him by the back of his jacket before carrying him up to dump him unceremoniously on the grass outside. Before they part ways, Dib gives the dragon his name and the dragon gives him its name: Zim.

Dib eventually finds his way home and gets his ankle fixed up and as soon as he does (several days later), he runs off into the woods to find Zim’s gorge so he can expose the dragon caves. Unfortunately, all he finds when he returns is a terribly-wounded and immobile Zim hidden in a hollow not too far off.

Turns out, one of the other dragons from Zim’s flock saw him help a human and the flock leaders (the Tallest) didn’t take too kindly to that. So he was attacked by his flock as punishment and left for dead.

Dib decides that maybe he’ll wait until Zim is healed to try exposing him. (he justifies it to himself by saying that doing it now would be unfair and wouldn’t be satisfying)

#hitasks #infodump #httyz au #anon

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sweetiepie08 · 4 years

Text

Rebel Z (Chapter 4)

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.

[-]

Dib felt the familiar burning sensation in his eyes as he stared at his monitors. Zim had been relatively quiet for quite some time now, three years to be exact. He didn’t disappear completely, like he had right before the Florpus Hole incident. Dib still caught him moving about his house, talking to strange aliens on his tele-communication device, and building dangerous-looking machinery. Despite Zim’s clear activity, outright plans to take over the Earth seemed to cease. Or at least Zim stopped gloating about them. Dib noticed these changes and decided they were concerning enough to require constant surveillance, but stable enough that he could step away from his screens every now and then.

As his eyes drifted across the screens, they landed on a haphazard stack of college brochures resting on his desk. Top universities from all over the world have been sending him these since preschool. He suspected college recruiters everywhere put his name on their lists the second they heard the world-renowned Professor Membrane had an offspring. They badgered him and Gaz for as long back as he could remember. They typically threw at least one ivy-league brochure in the trash every week. Although now, he had to start keeping them. Those recruiters must have started salivating as soon as his SAT scores were in. Every school wanted to be able to say they educated the children of Professor Membrane.

At least he didn’t have to deal with all the college recruitment events he knew were going on over at the High Skool. He and Gaz left mainstream education behind years ago after convincing their dad to let them homeschool. It wasn’t that hard. All they had to do was sit their dad down and show him their curriculums. His only condition was that they keep their grades up and take the most advanced programs available. It turned out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Dib & Gaz were learning the advanced science their father wanted them to, and they never had to set foot in the Skool again. This arrangement ended early for Dib, as he completed his senior year before his former classmates reached midterms. Of course, this only made the college recruiters even more ravenous.

Well, they were going to have to wait. High school may be over for him, but now he was taking a gap year. He told his father he wanted the time to figure out which branch of science he wanted to study. This was only half-true. Really, he just needed to figure out what to do with his life, period.

His child-hood dream of being a paranormal investigator grew less and less appealing as he saw what the field had become. The Swollen Eyeball network had gone down hill since Agent Darkbootie went off the grid to live amongst the sasquatch. Standards dropped to the Marianas Trench. Now, they let in riff-raff like flat-earthers and hollow-mooners. Uncovering the truth didn’t seem important to them anymore. It was all about who could come up with the most convoluted conspiracy, regardless of evidence or even common sense. Dib wanted to uncover the mysteries of the universe, to expand the knowledge of the human race. Knowledge didn’t seem to factor in at all anymore, not so long as the theory was sexy.

As for Dib’s work on Zim, he had to admit, it’d become mundane sometimes. He could only watch Zim binge-watch tv so many times before accepting there was nothing more to it. Hell, sometimes Dib would find himself watching whatever was on the tv more than he watched Zim. He’d sometimes go days without any notable movement. A few weeks ago, however, remarkable activity breathed new life into Dib’s efforts.

Currently, Zim’s ship sat haphazardly parked, or rather crashed, on the front lawn. Dib stared at it, waiting for Zim to notice the state of his space craft.

“Still monitoring Zim?” He heard Gaz say from the door.

“Always,” Dib replied, eyes still glued to the screen.

Gaz rolled her eyes and walked into his room. “You sure you need to? He’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“He knows I’m watching.”

“Okay, TJ Eckleburg,” Gaz said, leaning on his desk and popping open a soda.

“huh?”

“Read a book.”

“Whatever,” he groaned, his eyes flickering from one monitor to another. “The point is, quietness means nothing. Remember the time he disappeared but it turned out he was just hiding in the toilet?”

“You mean the time you let him hijack Membrane Labs, kidnap dad, and almost send the planet through a florpus hole?” She took a long sip of her soda. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And what about the time he left for weeks, then just showed up one day and broke my camera?”

“Oh yeah, that. I wouldn’t call breaking your camera ultimate evil, though, especially if you were shoving it in his face. You never did find out where he went, did you?”

“No, but there’s definitely something going on now,” Dib said as he opened his laptop. “I was going over the surveillance footage from last night and look.”

He brought up a clip he saved from the footage. It showed Tak parking a boxy, gray ship in Zim’s back yard and sneaking into his base. After a few minutes, the rooftop hanger opened. She flew Zim’s ship out, dumped it on the front lawn, and parked her own ship back in the hanger.

“Is that Tak?” Gaz asked, watching the clip.

“Yeah, I saw her on the cameras a few weeks ago. She broke into Zim’s base and left after about an hour, but this time she hasn’t come out.”

“So why aren’t you going over to investigate?” Gaz asked, returning to her casual lean.

“I can’t just rush in without a plan on something this huge!” he retorted. “I have to figure out what they’re doing first.”

Gaz shrugged. “Maybe she killed him and took over his base.”

“It’s not that easy,” Dib explained. “Zim’s computers are programed to only respond to him.”

“I used it once. The Tak hotdog thing, remember?”

“That was different. Zim let us in semi-willingly. Unless Tak found a way to override the security features…”

“Maybe she’s using Zim’s corpse as a meat-puppet to control the computer.”

Dib cringed. “Uh, gross.” Even he wasn’t sure he could stomach that idea. He returned to his monitors and saw a shadow move in Zim’s living room. “Wait! I just saw something!”

They both leaned into the screen as Dib zoomed in the camera on the window. Through it, they could see Zim’s robot servant sitting on the couch, eating snacks.

“That’s just Zim’s dumb robot watching tv,” Gaz said.

Dib threw his hands up. “Oh come on!” The robot again?! He’d watched this thing gobble down nachos on this couch a million times. Why did everything look so normal over there? “There has to be something going on. Is Tak hiding? Did Zim capture her? Are they planning something together? I have to know!”

“My best guess?”

“You’ve got a theory?” Dib asked, eagerly swiveling his chair around to face her. “Let’s hear it!”

“Tak’s playing the trombone and Zim’s slamming the oven door.” Gaz smirked, looking annoyingly proud of herself.

Dib’s face fell into a scowl. “Thanks Gaz, very insightful.” He sharply turned his chair back toward the monitors.

“You’re going to be up here obsessing all day, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Probably.”

“Fine.” Gaz downed the rest of her drink, tossed the can in the trash, and started toward the door. “I was thinking about watching that new Skinwalker Ranch documentary tonight, but I guess you’ll be busy.”

She walked out, leaving Dib alone with his screens. He scanned the feed in front of him, all inactive save for Zim’s snacking robot. He had been wanting to check out that documentary, but keeping an eye on Zim was more important, especially after this recent development. His eyes landed on the robot again, who was now sloppily sucking down a giant slushee. Dib sighed and checked the rest of his cameras.

Still nothing.

[-]

Zim emerged from his labs after another night of testing and research. His latest project was going well so far, despite the recent interference. No doubt, his leaders would be pleased. He went to the kitchen for a well-deserved soda and, whistling, headed to the living room to check on Gir.

As he sipped, he noticed something large and purple out the window. When he went to look, he nearly spit out his drink. His voot sat crashed in the front yard for all the Urth to see.

“Gir!” he shouted, jumping around to face his robot. “What is my ship doing out there?!”

“I dunno,” Gir said, munching away on his snacks.

“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?”

“Uh, Zim,” the computer interrupted. “It was probably the intruder.”

“What intruder?!” Zim demanded, stomping into the middle of the room. “Why didn’t you alert me?”

“Uh, I did.”

The show Gir was watching snapped off the tv and the screen now showed security footage from the previous evening. Zim and Gir sat on the couch with a bowl of snacks.

“Sir, I have detected a-”

“Not now, computer,” TV Zim said, “Jessica is about to reveal the murderer.”

“But this really is urgent.”

“Of course!” TV Zim shouted, leaning off the couch. “It was the bus driver, seeking revenge for his fallen offspring!”

“Zim, there is an intruder in the-”

TV Zim jumped to his feet. “What? No!”

“Exactly!”

“It’s not the bus driver after all!” TV Zim declared. “I knew it!”

“No you didn’t,” TV Gir chimed in.

“There’s too much time left in the episode. Jessica still has 15 minutes to find the killer. Now, which of these smelly bus-humans is the real culprit?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever.”

The security feed cut out and Gir’s show came back on the tv. Zim growled and pressed his palms into his forehead. Curse that Jessica Fletcher and her engaging small-town mysteries! If that show hadn’t been canceled Urth decades ago, he would have ensured that was the last murder she ever wrote.

“Computer! Is the intruder still in the base?”

“Yes.”

“Locate them.”

After a few seconds of processing sounds, Computer answered. “Irken biosignature located in the storage room.”

Irken, he was pretty sure he knew what that meant. Zim stormed over to the trashcan/elevator. “Computer, take me to the storage room. I’ll show Tak how to sneak into my base.”

“You’re going to show her how to sneak into your base?”

“Or how not to sneak… Or what happens when you sneak… or… Ugh you know what I meant!” Zim jumped into the elevator. “Just take me there!”

[-]

Finding Tak wasn’t as hard as he expected. As soon as he made it down to the storage room, Zim was greeted by the sound of something metal clanging to the floor. From there, all he had to do was follow the trail of crushed cans. At the end, he found Tak sitting on the floor, surrounded by discarded cans and bottles. She barely took notice of him as she downed another drink.

“You!” He shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her. “You have some nerve coming back here after… whatever it is you did! I spent days running diagnostics, trying to figure out what it is you tampered with.”

“Eh, who cares what I did?” Tak slurred, tearing her mouth away from the bottle. “I’m back on Urth. Life is empty and destiny is a cruel joke.”

“What are you going on about? And what is all this?” he said, trudging through her mess. His foot kicked a glass bottle which was larger than the rest. Picking it up, he recognized the fancy Irken label. “This is my gingzor!” he gasped. “I’ve been saving this!”

“You can get more,” Tak said with a burp. “Did you know you can get this stuff on Urth without showing identification? Idiots.”

“Have you been in my storage room, drowning yourself in gingzor all night?”

“Yup, why not? As good a way to waste my meaningless life as any.” She looked down the neck of the bottle in her hand. “Empty, sad,” she pouted as she tossed it over her shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”

“Just my recent discovery that my entire life is a lie,” she sighed. “Hey, wanna watch me laser-shot this whole six pack?”

Tak held up a pack of green cans by their plastic connector. She shot a hole in the bottom of one with a laser pistol, then started chugging the drink out from the bottom.

Zim curled a finger around his chin as he pondered the sight before him. This was very unlike Tak. He’d had enough encounters with her to know what to expect. Proud declarations of her superiority, vows for bloody vengeance, maybe a bit of maniacal cackling… that was Tak. She even had all night to attempt to kill him and, instead, spent it swimming in a pool of gingzor and self-pity. This…this was not Tak. He wondered what could possibly bring her to such a lowly state. Then it hit him.

“Ah, I see what’s happened,” he declared. “You finally realized you were never meant to be an invader and that knowledge has sent you down a spiraling pit of despair. Go on, let it out. Zim can offer his pity.”

Tak’s eyes narrowed. She plucked a can off of the pack, shook it up, and sprayed it in Zim’s face. Zim let out a yelp as he was doused in the drink.

“You know, Zim, I didn’t know you were so sentimental.”

“Sentimental?” he grumbled, rubbing the gingzor out of his eyes

“I found your secret stash.” Tak smirked as she pulled out a box labeled ZIM’S PRIVATE STUFF (GIR DON’T TOUCH). She reached into the box and took out a CD case titled Best of Queen. “Looks like someone’s a fan of Urth royalty,” she said as she tossed it in the air.

Zim scrambled to catch it before it smashed on the ground. “That is a music group, not royalty and-”

“Oh what’s this?” she asked, pulling out his sleeved blanket. “Some sort of backward robe?” She threw that on Zim’s head, then held up his fuzzy boots. “And what are these?”

Zim snatched the blanket off and dropped it on the ground. “It gets very cold on Urth and-”

“Guess I can expect softness from someone who kept their cadet badge.” Tak held up the pink, metal circle with the Irken insignia emblazed on it. His heart beat just a second faster.

“Enough!” he shouted, swiping the badge out of her hands. “You have no business going through my stuff!”

Tak made a dismissive sound and waved her arm. “Pfft, I’ve already seen the inside of your brain. What’s the harm in looking through a few boxes?”

“Eh? My brain? Wha?” His hands flew to his back as he realized what she just admitted. “My PAK! You tampered with my PAK!”

“For the last time, I didn’t tamper, I ANALYZED!” she screamed in his face.

“Uh… this was the first time I mentioned it… Wait! It doesn’t matter! You committed a capital offence!”

“No, tampering is a capitol offence. Analyzing isn’t technically against the law.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “Although, it probably should be if they didn’t want me to see what I saw.”

“Eh? What?”

“I know something you don’t know…” she sing-songed.

“What? What is it?” He demanded, grabbing her by the shirt. “Tell me!”

“Guess who’s defective…” she sing-songed again in that annoying, giddy tone. “You! And me! And Skoodge! And a whole bunch of other people probably! And it doesn't matter at all!” She laughed. “Nothing matters! Nothing is real!” She laughed harder and threw her arm around Zim’s shoulders. “I don't even want to kill you anymore because it be so pointless. Why put in the effort? We're just walking talking food for a giant, horrible, tentacle-y, blob-monster-god-thing”

“What blob-monster-god-thing?” He inquired, pealing Tak’s arm off of himself with a sneer.

“You know it as the control brains.” She smirked. There was something bitter and smug in it.

“Control brains?” He gasped. “You're speaking treason.”

“Eah-yup!” she declared, popping open another drink.

He desperately rubbed his temples as this new information buzzed around in his brain. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t be. “This is a trick,” he accused, eyes darting around, looking for hidden cameras. “You're trying to get me to say something treasonous so you can record it and show it to the Tallest.”

“Nope, no trick,” she said. Her voice was unsettlingly casual. “I went all the way to Refierencee to find out Irk is nothing but the plaything of a life sucking horror blob. Don't believe me? Here.” She tapped a spot on her PAK and a cable flew into her hands. “Plug me in and check my memory drive. See if I'm lying.”

She waggled the cable at him, daring him to take it. There had to be a reason she was doing all this. She must have some sort of ulterior motive. Why else would she make up such an outlandish lie? Unless, it wasn’t a lie...

“Fine,” he said, snatching the cable, “but I warn you, I've upgraded my computer security. So if you try to infect my base with a virus, it won't work.”

Tak shrugged and went back to her drink.

Something was wrong here, very wrong. Whether it was the truth or just a nefarious plot, there was only one way to get to the bottom of it.

[-]

Tak sat on a box, her PAK plugged into the computer while Zim reviewed her memory drive on his computer screen. He played the Refirencee memories again. Was this the 3rd or 4th time? He couldn't remember. He scanned each frame with a sharp eye. There had to be something else here, some sort of tell that this was a trick, just another one of Tak’s schemes. There was no way this could be true.

“Watch as many times as you want,” Tak said, opening yet another can. “It's not gonna change.”

“You tampered with your memory drive,” Zim said matter-of-fact. Even if he hadn’t found an inconsistency yet, that had to be the case. It was the only explanation. Well, not the only one…

“Nope,” she answered. The assurance in her voice was grating. “Have your computer check. I dare you.”

Zim glanced up. “Computer…”

“No signs of tampering detected.”

“You see…” She was so smug. He hated it.

“Then this Krislotch person is a liar.”

“And has an amazing amount of free time on his hands,” Tak retorted.

“There must be something else!” Zim slammed his hands on the control panel. “Some other explanation! If it is true that means-”

“That our people are slaves and our entire society is a lie? Why do you think I keep drinking?” She asked, knocking her drink back.

“Enough sass, you talking bottle of gingzor!” He shouted, whirling his chair around to face her. He jumped to his feet and put an accusing finger in her face. “You expect me to believe this? That the Control Brains are actually-”

“A giant parasite feeding off the life force of our entire race? Yes! Exactly! What aren't you getting?” She jumped to her feet as well and advanced toward him, crushing a can in her hands. “It's got its tentacles in everything. It controls every aspect of our lives and it'll continue to grow bigger and bigger until that's all there is. Irk doesn't exist, Zim!” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in. “In our lifetime it never has! There is only it and everyone: the invaders, the foot soldiers, the janitors, the food service drones, even the tallest! We're all just slaves to the glory of the parasite.”

Tak broke out in a wild cackle as tears began leaking from her eyes. Her fingers slipped from Zim’s clothes and she doubled over, hysterical laughter echoing around the room. Zim could only watch and puzzle over her conduct. This behavior was unbecoming of a proper Irken, especially not an elite as Tak fancied herself. Maniacal laughter was fine, sure, but this? Would she degrade herself so much for an act? He thought not.

“What now?”

“It's just so funny,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I mean, we work all our lives to serve the empire. You and I even remained loyal in exile. And when I learned about this thing, how our people were in danger, my first thought was ‘I have to stop this thing.’ And now,” she let out a burst of cackling, “I'm an enemy of the state! And I have to hide in your base of all places and the first person I can tell about any of this is you.” Her laughter began again in full and it sent her to the floor. “You see how that's funny?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oh.” She calmed down enough to take a few deep breaths. “Am I laughing or crying?”

“Uh, laughing I think?”

“Good, good, 'cause this really is funny,” she said, reaching over and grabbing another can. “Like a great, big joke. My life, my existence… it's all a big, cosmic… what's that human phrase? Fuck you!” Her arms opened to the ceiling. “It's a big, cosmic fuck you!”

Zim watched her, laying on the floor, her pained laughter filling the room. The site was beyond pathetic, but he could feel no victory in it. He couldn't feel anything at all. If this was true, Tak was right… about everything. And in the face of this revelation, he did the only thing he could do. He sat down on the floor, grabbed a can of gingzor from the pack, and poured the contents into his mouth.

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aticklishtem · 4 years

Text

Weakness of Doom

((oh boy here I go bringing my bullshit into a new decade again~ this is dedicated to @ticklishjevil bc she is 100% to blame for my descent into ZADR hell and generally inspiring/encouraging the creation of this...thing!! I hope you’re proud of yourself darling 💖

ALSO I’m very sorry if the spacing/formatting is borked tumblr mobile is terrible but I am doing my best to fix as we speak ;w; ))

***

“Give it up, Zim! You’ll never get away with this!”

Dib had lost count of how many times he’d said that by now. Eight years, countless crazy schemes, a couple near total obliterations of the galaxy as they knew it and an almost equal tally of humiliating defeats and triumphant (if temporary) victories for both sides - somehow, it always seemed to come back to the two of them. Dib, Zim, the doomsday device of the day and this seemingly endless chase that remained as frustrating yet exhilarating as it was the day the green kid first rocked up to class. Would it ever end? That almost didn’t seem to matter at this point - this was the life Dib had chosen. As long as Zim was around, he had a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning, a duty to the rest of humankind to keep protecting his planet from impending extraterrestrial invasion...even if most of them remained too dumb to appreciate his efforts.

“You’re too late, Dib-stink!” cried the bug-eyed bane of his existence, waving around some kind of remote with a red button. “Just one press of this button, and every single whiffy signal -“

“...do you mean wi-fi?”

“Zim knows what Zim means!” he barked, an antenna twitching with irritation. “As I was saying, every signal will be scrambled, and without their mind-numbing entertainment, your fellow earthworms will inevitably turn on each other! Leaving the planet defenceless for when I, Zim...figure out how to do whatever it is I need to do to destroy you all!”

“Noooo! That’s…” Dib paused mid-dramatic wail. “Actually a pretty solid plan? I mean, I can see your logic. It’s definitely an improvement on some of your others, like that one with the rubber chickens -“

“Silence!” Zim pointed an accusing claw at him, though Dib could’ve sworn he preened a little at the almost-compliment, puffing up his chest and planting his free hand on his hip. “Of course it is foolproof! And if you imagine for a second that the amazing Zim could ever become so distracted by his own ingeniousness that he could be lured into monologuing until a hypothetical opportunity might arise for someone to take - hey gimme that back!”

Fortunately, some things had changed in all those years; puberty had been at least kind enough to Dib so he could now dangle his superior height - literally and metaphorically - over Zim’s head. “Sorry, what’d you say?” he taunted, holding his prize high out of his enemy’s reach after snatching it from his claws. “I couldn’t hear because of how much taller I am!”

His moment of glory was cut short, however, as Zim launched himself at him with a hiss like a feral cat, sending them both crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs and antennae. They were still surprisingly evenly matched; Zim was a lot stronger than his size would suggest, but Dib now had the advantage of longer arms and legs to attempt to hold him off as they wrestled for the device. He might even have been winning - right up until Zim grabbed his side, claws digging into the sensitive spot just below his ribs.

Dib yelped, reflexively slamming his arm down to protect himself; before either could do anything, the remote flew out of his hand and across the room until it disappeared under one of Zim’s experiment tanks. Instead of running after it, Zim took advantage of the distraction to seize Dib’s wrist, pinning him to the floor.

“Ha!” Zim loomed over him, now straddling Dib’s waist so his maniacal grin filled his whole vision. “You flesh-bags really are pitiful, cowering in pain from the slightest touch!”

“That’s not what that - was…” Dib froze, heat rising to his cheeks as his nemesis bore down on him, now painfully aware of his compromising position. Zim couldn’t - did he even know what tickling was? Because this would be a really bad time for him to find out.

“...Eh?” Zim narrowed his eyes, curiosity flickering across his face alongside the usual suspicion and irritation. “What are you smiling about? Why is your grotesquely ginormous head so red?!”

“My head’s not bihihig!” Dib bit down on his lip, but he couldn’t stop a few embarrassing giggles from slipping out when Zim jabbed at his ribs again. He struggled to bat his hand away, but with only one arm free and Zim basically sitting on top of him, he wasn’t having much success. “Quihihit ihit!”

A shiver ran down his spine as he could practically see his doom unfold along with Zim’s smile, sadistic delight sparkling in his eyes, and oh god no Dib thought he was prepared for anything but please not this, anything but this, he’ll never live it down…

“Well, well - you really thought you could conceal such a glaring weakness from me?” he demanded, mercilessly prodding and pinching his way up Dib’s side. “I’d...sort of imagined more writhing in excruciating agony, but this is rather amusing too, watching you squirm like the wretched worm you are!”

“Thihis isn’t fahahahair!” Dib spluttered between peals of laughter; he hadn’t been tickled since he was a little kid, but this was so much worse because it was Zim and he hated giving him the satisfaction but was equally powerless to stop his body from reacting as those probing claws dug right into his horribly exposed armpit. “Zihihihim!”

“Yes, yes, I am Zim!” his foe cackled, releasing Dib’s wrist to attack with both hands, one even scuttling under his shirt - which was so far beyond fair - and scratching at the tender skin almost hard enough to hurt, but his gloves dulled the sensation so it just tickled even more. “If I had known you were this easily incapacitated, I could’ve built a device to take care of you long ago! Now, laugh, pathetic Dib-thing - admit your annihilation, or perish in helpless hysteria at the merciless claws of Zim!”

“Nehehehever - !” Dib had not foiled so many of Zim’s plans to let him win this one by tickling him, of all the cruel and unusual methods. There was only one way to fight back, and he had no idea if it’d even work on an alien, but what else did he have to lose, more of his dignity? Arms flailing as he tried desperately to suck in his stomach before those treacherous claws could get to his bellybutton, he eventually managed to grab a handful of Zim’s side and squeeze it repeatedly.

Zim let out a squawk like a bird having its feathers pulled out, letting go of Dib as he scrabbled to slap his hands away. “D-do not touch Zim with your fihilthy meat-sticks!”

Huh - that sounded like a game-changer, and now it was Dib’s turn to grin like a mad scientist as he kneaded Zim’s sides like his life depended on it - which it might - until he had an armful of squirming Irken trapped in an almost-hug, one arm around Zim’s waist with his PAK pressing against Dib’s chest.

“What’s the matter, does it tickle?” he asked, smirking from ear to ear as he savoured the sweetness of revenge - and possibly the most important discovery of his career as a paranormal investigator. “Is the mighty Invader Zim ticklish?”

“Lies! Cease! Ihihi’m gonna destrohohoy yooooou…!”

It wasn’t like he’d never heard Zim laugh before - only like every day since they were at skool - but this was different; less controlled and mocking, more free and almost joyful, even if it was a joy forced upon him as he writhed, kicked and cackled under Dib’s skittering fingers, exploring the surprisingly soft and smooth skin under his shirt. It wasn’t exactly an autopsy, but the thought that he might be the first to hear - the first to make Zim almost squeal when he wiggled his fingers under his arms - that was more deeply, weirdly, sadistically satisfying than anything he’d imagined. “Wow, I think you’re worse than I am! So are all Irkens this ticklish, or is it just you?”

“Zihim is telling you nohothihihihing!” Zim’s laughter seemed to jump an octave when Dib felt around his back; the skin around his PAK was slightly raised where it was embedded, which was interesting, mainly for the way he bucked and squirmed frantically as Dib traced it with his fingers. “GIR! Where are you?! Do something to make this stohohop!”

“Yes, master!”

Dib looked up just in time to see Zim’s robot assistant propelling towards him at alarming speed, his eyes blazing red. Before he could move to shield himself, however, GIR came to an abrupt stop, eyes flickering back to cyan and his metallic mouth stretching into its familiar hyperactive smile. “Ooooh! Tickle fight! I wanna plaaaay!”

“Now, GIR! Fire the - wait, no, what are you doing?! Put that back!” Both Zim’s and Dib’s eyes widened - in horror and intrigue respectively - as GIR plonked himself down on one of Zim’s legs, picked up the other and pulled his boot off. Dib had never actually seen his feet before, he realised; he had three toes, clawed like his fingers but a little shorter. Judging by how he scrunched them up when GIR prodded them, they were also pretty sensitive.

“This li’l piggy went to Foodcourtia,” GIR chirped, wiggling a toe; Zim made a strangled noise of protest and attempted to pull away, but Dib was still holding onto him. “This li’l piggy went home - aw, we outta piggies! And thiiis li’l piggy…”

“GIR - nooo!” Zim begged, and Dib could actually feel him tremble in his arms as his toes curled in anticipation of what was to come. “Don’t do this! You’re supposed to attack the intruder, not -“

“...went weeweeweeweeeeeeeee…!” GIR hugged Zim’s foot and scribbled furiously all over it, his tiny metal hands a blur as his master shrieked with laughter, helpless to escape his ticklish doom.

“How’s it feel, Zim, betrayed by your own minion?” Dib snickered along with him as it occurred to him he should probably be recording or taking photos of possibly the greatest moment of his life to date, but holding Zim captive and laughing helplessly was way too satisfying, tickling under his arms while GIR happily went to town on his foot. “Maybe I’ll just keep you like this - you’re not much of a threat to the Earth when you’re just a cute little giggly alien puddle…”

“Wh-whahahahahaaaaa?!”

The sheer incredulous outrage in Zim’s voice tore through the air, and Dib couldn’t help but wince, recoiling as the ear-splitting screech assaulted his eardrums. As his grip loosened, Zim wriggled free and kicked GIR off of him, scrambling back to his feet, and the chaos was replaced by an unusual and equally uncomfortable silence. (Apart from GIR eating popcorn out of his head as he watched them, and that was the most normal thing about this situation.)

“I - uh...“

“He thinks you cuuuute!” GIR giggled, grabbing Zim’s cheeks and squishing them together comically.

“No I don’t!” Dib felt his face flush under the spotlight of both GIR’s carefree smile and Zim’s laser-beam glare, the protest coming out just a little too quickly. “I was teasing you - it’s just a thing people say when they…”

He trailed off, because man, things had gotten weird, even by their standards. But this was still Zim, and he was still a jerk and evil and the total opposite of cute, even a little breathless with his clothes all rumpled and one foot still bare, antennae lowered and quivering and what looked suspiciously like an olive-coloured blush staining his cheeks. That warm feeling was just Dib enjoying the sight of his enemy humiliated in defeat, like anyone would. Right? That made sense.

“Give me my boot, GIR.”

“Go long!”

Zim caught the offending item without looking, but instead of putting it back on he hurled it at Dib, who dodged just before it smacked him in the face, bouncing off his shoulder instead.

“Ow - hey, that’s sharp!”

“Good! Suffer! That’s what you get for trying to taint the mighty name of Zim with your disgusting lies like…” He screwed up his face as if he could barely bring himself to spit out the word, making dramatic finger-quotes, “cute!”

“Okay, geez! It’s not like I meant it…” Dib rubbed his shoulder, shifting awkwardly - he wished they’d stop repeating the word like that. But even this momentary weirdness couldn’t change the fact that he’d just uncovered a significant weakness in his nemesis, even if he inconveniently shared it. He’d be an idiot not to exploit this for all it was worth, a smug grin tugging at his lips again as he picked up Zim’s boot. “But thanks for this. I bet I can get all kinds of useful evidence from a genuine article of alien clothing…”

“You…!” Zim’s eyes almost bugged out of his head as he let out an indignant splutter - only to break into a dangerously familiar smile before activating his PAK legs, towering over Dib with a renewed gleam of vengeance in his eye. “Enjoy your last few seconds of freedom, Dib-worm - we shall soon settle who is cute!”

“I’d like to see you - wait, what?!”

Dib didn’t have time to figure out what Zim meant by that as he darted for an escape route, still clutching Zim’s boot - but when he was quickly seized and hoisted into the air by a pair of metal spider legs, he was pretty sure things were only about to get a whole lot weirder.

But this was the life he’d chosen - and would he really want it any other way?

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electrozeistyking · 4 years

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ZIMVOID KING ARC - Headcanons and Facts for the AU

So! I spent a few days working on headcanons and facts about my Invader Zim AU, the Zimvoid King ARC (or ZKA for short). All written along side of installment three, "Dark Claws of a King", and now here on the net to burn your eyeballs, here's the master post on the ZKA facts and ideas I've recently spawned for the AU. Enjoy!

if you manage to read this all, you’re a certified creature

~ ZIB RELATED ~ Facts that mainly surround the cockroach (and i'm pretty sure the majority of this post mentions this guy).

-Zib has fobidden himself to go on any adventures involving Zim. He's decided that it's not his place to try to stop a version of the Irken that is not his own. Plus, he's a merger. (This is all just nonsense he tells himself. The real reason is that he doesn't want to get involved with that shit all over again. PTSD and stuff, yanno?)

-Zib has a real problem with keeping his hands from doing things. He's actually gotten a Rubrix Cube to keep his hands occupied, and he keeps the cube in one of his pockets at all times in case he needs it. It's probably due to a deep, insatiable urge he has to build, build, build; creating his mech, modifying Voot Cruisers and such... once he'd had nothing else to make, he'd been left with an itch in his hands.

-Zib can also be seen tinkering with some forgotten technology Professor Membrane has laying around. The professor has actually only caught Zib doing this once; the roach had almost finished with an invention Membrane was only preparing to start working on.

-Zib's senses are all heightened and improved. His eyesight has never been more perfect, his hearing (despite his obvious lack of ears) has never been clearer, and though he regrets having it, he does happen to have a perfect sense of smell. So he knows if something stinks, it fucking reeks. Ugh. Awful, dude.

-Sometimes Dib will be like "Oh, lookit us, we're a couple of Dibs, ain't that cool" and then Zib does something very Zim-like and he goes "Fuck, I totally forgot he does that".

~ PAK!ZIM RELATED ~ Facts that mainly surround PAK!Zim.

-Zib and PAK!Zim occasionally do something I like to call "syncing", where the two act and think as one entity, one mind instead of two. When synced, these two can be caught using terms like "us" and "we". Neither of them knows how this works, but I like to think it's like fusing in Steven Universe, minus the dancing and stuff; any distruptions to their sync (like if one of them really doesn't like something), they become two minds opposed to one again.

I like to think this is syncing in a nutshell:

ZIB: We'd love to! DIB: We? ZIB: aw shit P!ZIM: nice going genius

Zib finds syncing to be very relaxing. PAK!Zim likes how powerful syncing feels, even if he won't provide a comment on it.

-These two may have overcome their differences (well, were forced to), but Zib and PAK!Zim are still a Zim and Dib duo. From time to time, their little playful fighting turns into a real spat, and in the Zimvoid, it always hurt Zib whenever PAK!Zim tried to pull the silent treatment on the bug boy.

-PAK!Zim still occasionally threatens Zib that he may dig one of his PAK legs into the roach child's shoulders again. He feels too weirdly guilty about doing it the first time (as mentioned in the first installment of ZKA, "King of a Barren World"), so he'll never actually do it... but Zib doesn't know that.

-PAK!Zim calls Zib "stinkbug", since I thought that was more fitting, as people do call him a roach (this is especially true for me). He's a little cockroach.

-PAK!Zim can only talk in Zib's head. Zib once wondered if PAK!Zim's voice is real, or if it's false. He quickly remembered that inner voices you typically have in your head cannot change volume. PAK!Zim can yell, and it gives Zib headaches and nosebleeds every time he does. PAK!Zim often tries not to yell when the duo are around other people; both are worried if people would think the PAK is ruining his head, and they don't want to know what could happen.

-PAK!Zim has terrible eyesight. And by that, I mean he can't see. The only time he can see anything is when he and Zib are synced. Neither of them really mind it, but they always try to avoid syncing when Zib's showering. Despite how comfortable they are with each other when synced, that is the only discomfort both of them have. They just... I dunno, I'm kinda getting uncomfortable about it myself.

-Zib finds himself to be weirdly possessive over PAK!Zim. Maybe it's because that he sees the sentient robotic backpack to be an anchor for him when shit's getting tough. Having had four years to get over their differences, Zib has actually befriended the PAK and doesn't know what he would have done without someone to talk to all that time.

-To branch off that last one, I have the firm belief that because of Zib's weird attachment to the PAK fused to the back of his head, Zib would probably cease to function if PAK!Zim is ever removed. Ever since PAK!Zim officially woke up, Zib has developed this seemingly comfortable, permanent sense of knowing that someone is there for him, will always be there and they're not going to leave him alone because guess what? PAK!Zim has no choice but to go wherever Zib goes. He occasionally forgets that, though.

The idea of having the PAK (his PAK) removed terrifies him; you'd be tearing that feeling of never truly being lonely away from him. Removing the PAK would remove his buddy, his pal, his Zim. He'd be lost, confused, alone, and he'd have no idea what to do. It's just him by himself all over again, no one else. Plus, who knows what else could happen to Zib? What if it turned out he relied on the PAK to survive, and removing it could potientially kill him? Neither PAK!Zim or Zib are willing to see what could happen.

TL;DR: Take away the PAK, and Zib gets crippling depression and he might die.

-Though he can't see, PAK!Zim can hear pretty damn well (even if he barely listens half the time).

-No one else knows that PAK!Zim is alive. Dib wants the PAK removed because he thinks that if they remove it, Zib's thoughts will stop being so... "corrupted". In his own mind's eye, Dib thinks that if they remove the PAK, it'll be helping Zib, but what he doesn't realize it would absolutely DESTROY Zib's mentality.

~ FAMILY RELATED ~ Facts that involve the Membrane family as a whole.

-The fact that his other son has claws perplexes Professor Membrane to no end. He pretty much tried to see if he could study Zib's weird claws once he found out about them. So far, what he's found out from his studies is that Zib's claws are really fucking sharp and they really hurt (mentioned in installment three of ZKA, "Dark Claws of a King").

-More facts on the stinkbug because yes, Zib has another huge problem: it turns out rants from his "brother" Dib helps Zib conk right the fuck out. It unfortunately works every time.

-Zib, Dib and Gaz just... they kinda see themselves as siblings, even though Zib and Dib are just alternate versions of one another. After a while, they kinda got over it and now it's just:

"This is my brother! I have a brother! We're brothers! We're practically twins! See this? This guy right here? Him? That's <my> brother. I love my brother, and I'll kick your fucking ass into the goddamn dirt if you insult him in front of me." (this is all just from zib btw.)

~ GOOFY ~ Facts that are INTENDED to be goofy.

-For whatever reason, I enjoy the idea of Zib having a weird addiction to eating sticks of butter. Yes, his new family decides to have an intervention about Zib's addiction, but it totally fuckin' flops, so they end up having to try to hide the butter and cut him off from it instead. (they gave up trying when it all disappeared from its hiding spot later that very same day.)

~ IDK FACTS ~ Facts that I've no clue where they should go.

-On Keef in ZKA: the little red head has actually mellowed out now that he's a teen. He still adores his friends, but he's calmer, not as clingy, and is an excellent listener, so he'll let Zib ramble, but will occasionally interrupt to ask questions. He's like Zib's mini therapist.

-I like the idea of Keef being bisexual.

~ AUTHOR TRIVIA ~ Trivia from the author that you totally won't need but may find interesting anyway! why was i speaking in third person—

-"King of a Barren World" was posted on the fifteenth of May, but Archive kinda fucked up and it says I published it on the sixteenth.

-You'll see me call Professor Membrane "the professor", but only because I totally forgot he's a scientist. Not sure how, because his schtick is REAL SCIENCE, but—

-This AU was made by accident. And by that, I thought up a scenario, wrote about it, thought up another scenario and wrote about that one too, and then found out people actually liked this nonsense I was writing, so it's an AU now and forever -or at least until I die-.

-The Zimvoid King ARC is not a real arc. I just thought the name sounded cool.

-Before anyone asks "what does ARC stand for", it doesn't stand for anything. I just capslocked the word arc because I just thought that looked cool.

-I accidentally made a Discord server for ZKA.

-Speakin' of accidents, I may have accidentally started shipping Keef and Zib. Oops?

-I really like calling Zib a stinkbug. As user MelodyoftheVoid once put it: Half man, half bug, all stink.

-I have strictly forbidden myself from making Zib's hair-scythes antennae. I love headcanons on them being antennae, sure... but I decided that I'd have no idea how to write them in ZKA, so I was like "Nah, dog".

-Of all my IZ AUs, ZKA is the one I haven't dropped yet. Maybe because it's only four days old at this point, but still. omigosh zka is a baby au :0

#Zimvoid King ARC #zimvoid #writing #headcanons #headcanons and facts #iz headcanon #zib headcanon #zibmembrane #dibmembrane #oh lord some bro get zib off his exotic butters addiction #ZKA AU #ZKA #IZ #invader zim #invaderzim

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cheetahsprints · 4 years

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My mask is growing heavy, but I’ve forgotten who’s beneath

The only thing louder than his own breathing is the sound of his footsteps pounding on the asphalt. He’s put quite a distance between himself and his pursuers, yet he can’t stop. Not the burning of his lungs, the aching of his legs, nor the sharp pain present in his ribs is enough.

Finding out he was a quasi-immortal clone around fifteen years ago has its benefits as well as a heap of existential confusion; regardless, he can’t risk becoming a disease carrier.

Goddamn capitalism making him work at a hospital during a shitty apocalypse. He’s not even an essential doctor or anything! They won’t let him do more than tedious stocking and organizing, since he still needs to finish an online degree.

What finally stops him is a hand shooting out from the darkness and pulling him into the void.

It is not a normal hand. Dib can barely see beyond his hand-made, modernized plague doctor mask, so he reaches out and wraps his hand around the other. The hand has three fingers and impossibly silky skin. He rips the hand from its grip on his shirt and stumbles backward. After a moment of fumbling - that he feels strangely embarrassed by - he gets the mask off. A pair of ruby eyes bore into him.

“Z-Zim.”

Zim tilts his head. There’s a vague muffled sound, but Dib can’t understand. His mouth is covered by a bright pink mask near to the color of his old uniform, It has black straps that converge from a split and disappear around either side of his head. There seem to be bolts at the corners, and they must have caused fresh wounds because dark green blood is dripping down. On an odd instinct, Dib reaches out to wipe it away. Zim catches his wrist.

He nods to the side. Dib allows himself to be dragged through the alley. Zim ducks under a pair of criss-crossed boards nailed on a doorless doorway. Dib narrowly avoids smacking into them, forehead first, and he almost faceplants into the floor. He bites his lip hard to keep from sneezing due to the amount of dust.

Zim warily eyes him. He is completely without his disguise, though it didn’t really hide much. Zim releases his wrist and marches onward. Dib follows him up a set of stairs. He takes stock of the room they finally stop at. There’s a telescope in the window partially covered by a curtain; it doesn’t look like a recreational telescope. A suitcase lays open with an array of extraterrestrial high-tech rays and such. Near the possible entrances there are metal pieces with three round holes and signs that proclaim Caution: shoots fire. Dib almost scoffs at warning one’s enemies before he realizes what kind of enemy they must be intended for.

Unlike many of the movies Dib has watched, Zombies are fast fuckers. They seem to have heightened hearing and smell, but thankfully they have poor sight and worse reflexes. They’re more flammable than a human usually is, due to something secreted from the pores. Though they are undead - clinically dead then shockingly came back to life - their hearts do beat. However, they won’t cease until their heads are completely removed - even a gunshot right between the eyes won’t be permanent, only slow them down.

They also have memories. If one formerly knew a zombie, they might try to trick them, say things they might’ve said to the point where it becomes too uncanny. It takes a few days for the flesh to rot, the eyes to cloud over, and for them to begin ripping apart anyone who comes close. They don’t eat brains, rather going for the heart and liver, leaving the rest behind. Some will tear off ribs and use them as weapons.

Nothing could have truly prepared Dib for any of this. He thought he was prepared for anything supernatural. He wasn’t.

It takes a minute and for Zim to flick him on the head before he realizes he’s been rambling most of his knowledge of the Infection out loud.

“That’s how it started,” Dib mumbles. He may be going a bit mad. “ They thought it was just… an extremely bad strain of the flu. Then it spread and it spread… then the dead came back…”

Zim’s eyes narrow. The blood on his jaw has dried.

Dib begins to impersonate his voice, waving his arms around as he says, “You’re probably thinking, stupid big headed Dib, I know all of this, in fact I know so much more than your dim-witted human worm brain can comprehend!”

Zim stares at him. Then, he nods. He slowly sits on a barren mattress that’s crooked at the far corner of the room. He covers his eyes with his hands. Dib slides in beside him. He wraps his arm around Zim’s shoulders. Zim melts into him.

Shakily he says, “If nothing else, we have each other.”

“Stinky human,” Zim growls, barely audible. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t stayed on Earth for you. Disgusting.”

“You love me asshole.” And Dib loved him lightyears beyond logic as to a comprehensible or defendable reason. Dib does him the favor of not mentioning he stayed on Earth since he had nowhere to go upon finally having the epiphany his Tallest disowned him a long, long time ago. Dib is the first person to actually care about him, and as far as he can tell, Zim couldn’t help himself but be drawn to that. Dib figures he isn’t much different.

“Hmph.”

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