This is my very first fanfic! *Squeals and claps clumsily* Hooray for me!
I have no idea where I'm goin' with this, I guess I'll just make it up as I
go along. All I know is that I'm sickly obsessed with Invader Zim, Johnny
the Homicidal Maniac and Dib are forkin' pretty as Canada, Jesus is my
bestest friend, my medication makes me too sleepy to be happy, and I'm coo'
wif muh poop-slice, Poop Dogg. Word up kids, fo sho.
Dib just seems like the type who'd be suicidal, and I love trying to find that oh-so-adorable soft spot in the supposed evil emeny (Yes yes, I'm thinkin' about makin' this a slash... nothing too sexual, I'd hate to give Dib and Zim that awkward cloak of shame and embarrassment). It might get a li'l religious too, I'm loosely basing Dib on me and my own thoughts and emotions, but I'm gonna try my hardest to keep them all in as much character as I can.
Unfortunately, I do not own Invader Zim, JTHM or Canada; such creations were revealed by the genius Jhonen Vasquez (I still can't figure out how to pronounce that name, for the love of Zim, forgive me), and a buncha trees and Canadian Kilted Yaksmen.
... WOW I'm BORING! Do I always explain everything like this?! (Sound familiar? Heh heh I am very funny). Anyways, lights, keyboard, action!
... Yeah I know that was lame too.
Dib stared at the steak knife he gripped tightly in his hand. He'd cut many times before, but never this bad. Never this deep. The scarlet slits of broken flesh that adorned his already scarred arms almost frightened him. With an angered cry, he brought the knife down on his arm and dragged it across his skin once again. He watched in fascination as the crimson liquid escaped; as the hate he harbored inside against himself and others escaped. He kept his eyes fixed on the thick blood, watching it leave his body, his mind, his soul. He put the knife down on the carpet next to him and leaned against his closet door. He watched as tears blurred his vision and growled, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his forehead against them. He wasn't crying because of his arms; he never really felt the blade tear up his skin until the next morning, or later that night. No, he cried for other reasons, reasons he wished he could comprehend.
He hated himself.
And the ignorant world seemed to support that.
He hated himself for crying. He hated himself for what he had done to his some-what deserving flesh. He hated himself for not letting God help him. Dib knew that all he had to do was ask and the Lord would be ready to give him practically anything he wanted, and all that he needed. But part of Dib wanted to be depressed. It was the only thing he'd ever known since his mother took her own life on Dib's 4th birthday.
The tears fell steadily now, which made Dib ashamed. He looked up toward what would've been the sky if the ceiling wasn't in the way and pressed his hands together. He lowered his head and closed his eyes and tried his best to clear his mind enough to find comfort in God.
Meanwhile, Zim was having problems of his own, yet his weren't as emotional. GIR had helped himself to a nearby ice cream truck and was getting chased down by the owner.
"WHEEEEE HEEEEEE! Master, master, lookie!" GIR held up a half-eaten ice cream that poorly resembled the Scary Monkey.
"GIR! What did you do?!" Zim was becoming aggravated with GIR's attempts to please him. Grabbing GIR by his doggie ears, he dodged the rather large ice cream man who came lunging toward them and ran into the house. The fuming ice cream man got up and pounded on the door, enraged.
"HEY YOU... YOU... you... ah oh well." The now-calm obese ice cream man trudged back to his popsicle-smeared van thingy and drove down the street slowly, where handfuls of kids went running.
Zim watched from his window. "Filthy human filth-in-the-form-of-multi- colored-seemingly-tasteless-crystalised... filth-pops!" He then turned to GIR, who was pretending to apply make-up with his melting ice cream.
"GIR, you must stop this madness! You've got every ice cream advertising vehicle that comes by despising us! GIR, they might be secret FBI agent- demons!"
GIR only smiled up at Zim and took a deep breath. "Evernoticehowtheyalwaysseemtocomearounddinnertime?"
Zim stared.
"WHASSUP WIF DAT?!" GIR exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. He had forgotten about his ice cream, which had now taken liquid form under GIR's feet.
With an exasperated sigh, Zim left GIR licking up the puddle on the so- called living room floor to go down into his lab, where he performed Zimmy- like-tasks until he fell asleep at his computer console.
At skool the next day, Zim couldn't help but to notice Dib wasn't being his usual self. A cloudy-concerned look took over his eyes as he gazed at Dib from across the room, who was lazily staring off into space with his chin cupped in one hand, while Ms. Bitters droned on about some outbreak of war in some country none of the kids could pronounce. Zim didn't know why, but he was curious as to why Dib looked so glum. He started to feel himself actually caring why Dib was so sad.
As if Dib could read Zim's mind, he glanced in his direction and noticed the look on Zim's face before the Irken turned away suddenly. He looked away for a while, then continued to stare at Dib. He felt a strange feeling in the pit of his what-would-be-but-we're-not-sure-stomach and felt a little confused.
As for Dib, he was a little confused as well. 'Why was Zim looking at me like that? I've never seen him look like that. It almost looked like...' Dib stopped himself and shook the thought away violently. 'No. That's just... wrong...'
'... Or is it?'
At lunch Zim sat at his usual spot, with the table all to himself, of course. He was just about to try the bean and ice cube casserole which was carelessly slapped onto his tray when he heard the sound of another tray being dropped on the table.
Zim looked up with an eyebrow (or eyelid, whatever you wanna call the thingies that make Zim's eyes show emotion) raised and found himself face- to-face with Dib. Zim jumped out of his seat and pointed.
"WHAT BUSSINESS DO YOU HAVE IN THE PRESSENCE OF ZIIIIIM, STINKING WORM- BABY?!"
When Dib didn't even look up, Zim's hand dropped to his side. "Well? What do you want, Dib-human?" Zim lowered his voice, which had never received attention by anyone else in the room in the first place.
Dib speared a bean with his spork, brought it up to his open mouth, and was about to place it inside when the bean suddenly dropped and seemed to bounce off his tray onto the floor. Dib watched it with his jaw still open and his hand still ready to put the bean-that-was-there-but-isn't-anymore into his mouth when a passing kid stooped to pick it up. "Five second rule!" The kid shouted with glee.
Zim took his seat and stared at Dib blankly.
Dib finally looked up and said bluntly, "Save it Zim. I'm not in the mood to be dealing with YOU."
This left Zim feeling a little bad. He shoved it aside and laughed mockingly. "Aww, what's the problem, earth monkey? Aren't satisfied with your disgusting brown... shell-like... thingies that serve as... houses for... carbohydrates?" Zim snickered and squinted his eyes in pride, while Dib poked at another bean.
"Zim. Just shut up." Dib dropped his spork and looked at Zim indifferently. "Please."
Zim wanted to. He really did. But his cockiness got in the way, yet again, and he tilted his head to the side. "Sorry DIB but I'm afraid it is not so easy to stop ZIM!" And with that, Zim scooped up his own sporkful of beans and flicked them at Dib.
The kids-who-just-so-happened-to-be-watching-from-other-tables started to laugh, who were joined with others who didn't know what had happened but didn't want to be left out. Zim laughed evilly and clutched onto the edge of the table, leaning forward and peering at Dib. "Oh, Dib, do you still want me to shut up?"
Dib jolted his head straight up and, without warning, balled his hand into a tight fist and swung at Zim. He made contact with his cheek and amazingly sent Zim sprawling out on the floor. The kids-who-just-so- happened-to-be-watching-from-other-tables gasped and waited for Zim's reaction.
Zim sat up and rubbed his sore cheek. He made a little sniffle noise, but soon glared up at Dib, who was walking out of the cafeteria.
Dib sat in the corner of the playground and thought about what he did. He didn't like to hurt people... or aliens, for that matter. Whether it be physical or emotional. He stared at his red knuckles in disbelief and waited for Zim. He knew he'd follow.
But Zim didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't. He wanted to say sorry to the pathetic earthling who had just knocked the saliva out of his mouth. He didn't mean to provoke Dib. He wasn't that bad of a human, when Zim really thought of it. 'He's a heck of a lot better than the rest of these horrible stink-beasts. Dib is smarter and nicer and... and... cuter... than the res -'
Zim gagged on his thoughts and looked around, paranoid of others possibly knowing what he was thinking.
The rest of the day went on as any rest of the day normally would. The only difference was that Dib continued to stare off into space and Zim continued to stare at Dib, who continued to stare off into space as Zim continued to stare at him.
To be continued.
*L* Yes yes I am so very pathetic but I'm trying my best to make this story some-what humorous while all this romance and suicidal thoughts are going on. What do you wanna see happen next?
Should Zim approach Dib after skool with something nice to say...?
Should Dib go home and attempt to OD while a buncha flashbacks go on...?
Should Ms. Bitters find out about the small fight Zim and Dib had and send them to detention...?
Pick one and lemme know! It would be greatly appreciated. As soon as I get enough reviews to make a good decision, I'll come up with another chapter! Keep checkin' back!
- SwEeTiNsAnItY
Dib just seems like the type who'd be suicidal, and I love trying to find that oh-so-adorable soft spot in the supposed evil emeny (Yes yes, I'm thinkin' about makin' this a slash... nothing too sexual, I'd hate to give Dib and Zim that awkward cloak of shame and embarrassment). It might get a li'l religious too, I'm loosely basing Dib on me and my own thoughts and emotions, but I'm gonna try my hardest to keep them all in as much character as I can.
Unfortunately, I do not own Invader Zim, JTHM or Canada; such creations were revealed by the genius Jhonen Vasquez (I still can't figure out how to pronounce that name, for the love of Zim, forgive me), and a buncha trees and Canadian Kilted Yaksmen.
... WOW I'm BORING! Do I always explain everything like this?! (Sound familiar? Heh heh I am very funny). Anyways, lights, keyboard, action!
... Yeah I know that was lame too.
Dib stared at the steak knife he gripped tightly in his hand. He'd cut many times before, but never this bad. Never this deep. The scarlet slits of broken flesh that adorned his already scarred arms almost frightened him. With an angered cry, he brought the knife down on his arm and dragged it across his skin once again. He watched in fascination as the crimson liquid escaped; as the hate he harbored inside against himself and others escaped. He kept his eyes fixed on the thick blood, watching it leave his body, his mind, his soul. He put the knife down on the carpet next to him and leaned against his closet door. He watched as tears blurred his vision and growled, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his forehead against them. He wasn't crying because of his arms; he never really felt the blade tear up his skin until the next morning, or later that night. No, he cried for other reasons, reasons he wished he could comprehend.
He hated himself.
And the ignorant world seemed to support that.
He hated himself for crying. He hated himself for what he had done to his some-what deserving flesh. He hated himself for not letting God help him. Dib knew that all he had to do was ask and the Lord would be ready to give him practically anything he wanted, and all that he needed. But part of Dib wanted to be depressed. It was the only thing he'd ever known since his mother took her own life on Dib's 4th birthday.
The tears fell steadily now, which made Dib ashamed. He looked up toward what would've been the sky if the ceiling wasn't in the way and pressed his hands together. He lowered his head and closed his eyes and tried his best to clear his mind enough to find comfort in God.
Meanwhile, Zim was having problems of his own, yet his weren't as emotional. GIR had helped himself to a nearby ice cream truck and was getting chased down by the owner.
"WHEEEEE HEEEEEE! Master, master, lookie!" GIR held up a half-eaten ice cream that poorly resembled the Scary Monkey.
"GIR! What did you do?!" Zim was becoming aggravated with GIR's attempts to please him. Grabbing GIR by his doggie ears, he dodged the rather large ice cream man who came lunging toward them and ran into the house. The fuming ice cream man got up and pounded on the door, enraged.
"HEY YOU... YOU... you... ah oh well." The now-calm obese ice cream man trudged back to his popsicle-smeared van thingy and drove down the street slowly, where handfuls of kids went running.
Zim watched from his window. "Filthy human filth-in-the-form-of-multi- colored-seemingly-tasteless-crystalised... filth-pops!" He then turned to GIR, who was pretending to apply make-up with his melting ice cream.
"GIR, you must stop this madness! You've got every ice cream advertising vehicle that comes by despising us! GIR, they might be secret FBI agent- demons!"
GIR only smiled up at Zim and took a deep breath. "Evernoticehowtheyalwaysseemtocomearounddinnertime?"
Zim stared.
"WHASSUP WIF DAT?!" GIR exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. He had forgotten about his ice cream, which had now taken liquid form under GIR's feet.
With an exasperated sigh, Zim left GIR licking up the puddle on the so- called living room floor to go down into his lab, where he performed Zimmy- like-tasks until he fell asleep at his computer console.
At skool the next day, Zim couldn't help but to notice Dib wasn't being his usual self. A cloudy-concerned look took over his eyes as he gazed at Dib from across the room, who was lazily staring off into space with his chin cupped in one hand, while Ms. Bitters droned on about some outbreak of war in some country none of the kids could pronounce. Zim didn't know why, but he was curious as to why Dib looked so glum. He started to feel himself actually caring why Dib was so sad.
As if Dib could read Zim's mind, he glanced in his direction and noticed the look on Zim's face before the Irken turned away suddenly. He looked away for a while, then continued to stare at Dib. He felt a strange feeling in the pit of his what-would-be-but-we're-not-sure-stomach and felt a little confused.
As for Dib, he was a little confused as well. 'Why was Zim looking at me like that? I've never seen him look like that. It almost looked like...' Dib stopped himself and shook the thought away violently. 'No. That's just... wrong...'
'... Or is it?'
At lunch Zim sat at his usual spot, with the table all to himself, of course. He was just about to try the bean and ice cube casserole which was carelessly slapped onto his tray when he heard the sound of another tray being dropped on the table.
Zim looked up with an eyebrow (or eyelid, whatever you wanna call the thingies that make Zim's eyes show emotion) raised and found himself face- to-face with Dib. Zim jumped out of his seat and pointed.
"WHAT BUSSINESS DO YOU HAVE IN THE PRESSENCE OF ZIIIIIM, STINKING WORM- BABY?!"
When Dib didn't even look up, Zim's hand dropped to his side. "Well? What do you want, Dib-human?" Zim lowered his voice, which had never received attention by anyone else in the room in the first place.
Dib speared a bean with his spork, brought it up to his open mouth, and was about to place it inside when the bean suddenly dropped and seemed to bounce off his tray onto the floor. Dib watched it with his jaw still open and his hand still ready to put the bean-that-was-there-but-isn't-anymore into his mouth when a passing kid stooped to pick it up. "Five second rule!" The kid shouted with glee.
Zim took his seat and stared at Dib blankly.
Dib finally looked up and said bluntly, "Save it Zim. I'm not in the mood to be dealing with YOU."
This left Zim feeling a little bad. He shoved it aside and laughed mockingly. "Aww, what's the problem, earth monkey? Aren't satisfied with your disgusting brown... shell-like... thingies that serve as... houses for... carbohydrates?" Zim snickered and squinted his eyes in pride, while Dib poked at another bean.
"Zim. Just shut up." Dib dropped his spork and looked at Zim indifferently. "Please."
Zim wanted to. He really did. But his cockiness got in the way, yet again, and he tilted his head to the side. "Sorry DIB but I'm afraid it is not so easy to stop ZIM!" And with that, Zim scooped up his own sporkful of beans and flicked them at Dib.
The kids-who-just-so-happened-to-be-watching-from-other-tables started to laugh, who were joined with others who didn't know what had happened but didn't want to be left out. Zim laughed evilly and clutched onto the edge of the table, leaning forward and peering at Dib. "Oh, Dib, do you still want me to shut up?"
Dib jolted his head straight up and, without warning, balled his hand into a tight fist and swung at Zim. He made contact with his cheek and amazingly sent Zim sprawling out on the floor. The kids-who-just-so- happened-to-be-watching-from-other-tables gasped and waited for Zim's reaction.
Zim sat up and rubbed his sore cheek. He made a little sniffle noise, but soon glared up at Dib, who was walking out of the cafeteria.
Dib sat in the corner of the playground and thought about what he did. He didn't like to hurt people... or aliens, for that matter. Whether it be physical or emotional. He stared at his red knuckles in disbelief and waited for Zim. He knew he'd follow.
But Zim didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't. He wanted to say sorry to the pathetic earthling who had just knocked the saliva out of his mouth. He didn't mean to provoke Dib. He wasn't that bad of a human, when Zim really thought of it. 'He's a heck of a lot better than the rest of these horrible stink-beasts. Dib is smarter and nicer and... and... cuter... than the res -'
Zim gagged on his thoughts and looked around, paranoid of others possibly knowing what he was thinking.
The rest of the day went on as any rest of the day normally would. The only difference was that Dib continued to stare off into space and Zim continued to stare at Dib, who continued to stare off into space as Zim continued to stare at him.
To be continued.
*L* Yes yes I am so very pathetic but I'm trying my best to make this story some-what humorous while all this romance and suicidal thoughts are going on. What do you wanna see happen next?
Should Zim approach Dib after skool with something nice to say...?
Should Dib go home and attempt to OD while a buncha flashbacks go on...?
Should Ms. Bitters find out about the small fight Zim and Dib had and send them to detention...?
Pick one and lemme know! It would be greatly appreciated. As soon as I get enough reviews to make a good decision, I'll come up with another chapter! Keep checkin' back!
- SwEeTiNsAnItY