Okay, this'll be my last post before I start on the fic I got volunteers for. I was originally gonna finish 'Don't Time Travel With a Pacemaker' first, but I WANNA work on it! So there:c) Mostly, I'm posting this fic cuz... well, it's kinda stupid I know, but... Not counting this one, I have 48 postings and I want that fic to be my 50th. 8D This is just a poetic little thing I did at 2:21 am. Kinda cute, I think. No own.
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Zim's exhausted body collapsed onto the light pink sofa. The reddish tubes that the ceiling was composed of seemed to throb and dance to his aching eyes. He was too tired to even curse the human who had put him into this state. Dib. Tonight had been close, too close. Zim knew he was getting sloppy.
Dib's exhausted body collapsed onto the dark grey couch. The mechanical arms that the ceiling was composed of seemed to throb and dance to his aching eyes. He was too tired to even curse the alien who had put him into this state. Zim. Tonight had been close, too close. Dim knew he was getting sloppy.
Zim slipped out his contacts and sighed with relief as the scratching stopped. His content smile quickly melted into an angry frown. He had given the Dib-human far to many openings in the evening's chase, he was lucky to still be alive and free. What was wrong with him? Where had all his energy gone? What had happened to the eager young Invader he once was? He still wanted desperatly to conquer earth, but there were many, many times, more than he would ever admit to, that he wondered; was it all worth it?
Dib removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He winced as a twinge of pain flew up his retina. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Were he not so worn out, he might have kicked or punched something to relieve his frustration. Muttering four letter words, he mentally reviewed the evening's chase, as he often did, searching for a weakness in his enemy's fighting. Seconds into it, he felt his mind drift away. He couldn't seem to concentrate on Zim at all lately. What was wrong with him? Did he even want to save the world anymore?
That was a ridiculus line of thinking, Zim knew. There was nothing more important than bringing honor to the Tallests, to the Armada, and to himself. He still wanted that, so much. But sometimes he just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He wished he could stop, give up, he could tell Dib he didn't want Earth anymore, board up his house, sever his connections to the tallest, he could *rest*. He was sick of this planet, sick of that Dib, sick of everything.
As sick as Dib felt, he tried to drag his mind back to the alien, but to no avail. He sighed. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever. He wished he could just give up now, but the consequences would be far to great.
Zim shuddered to think what would happen if he stopped fighting. An enternity of torture and a death in captivity. No, Zim would never give up...
Dib would never give up...
Because *HE* would never give up...
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Zim's exhausted body collapsed onto the light pink sofa. The reddish tubes that the ceiling was composed of seemed to throb and dance to his aching eyes. He was too tired to even curse the human who had put him into this state. Dib. Tonight had been close, too close. Zim knew he was getting sloppy.
Dib's exhausted body collapsed onto the dark grey couch. The mechanical arms that the ceiling was composed of seemed to throb and dance to his aching eyes. He was too tired to even curse the alien who had put him into this state. Zim. Tonight had been close, too close. Dim knew he was getting sloppy.
Zim slipped out his contacts and sighed with relief as the scratching stopped. His content smile quickly melted into an angry frown. He had given the Dib-human far to many openings in the evening's chase, he was lucky to still be alive and free. What was wrong with him? Where had all his energy gone? What had happened to the eager young Invader he once was? He still wanted desperatly to conquer earth, but there were many, many times, more than he would ever admit to, that he wondered; was it all worth it?
Dib removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He winced as a twinge of pain flew up his retina. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Were he not so worn out, he might have kicked or punched something to relieve his frustration. Muttering four letter words, he mentally reviewed the evening's chase, as he often did, searching for a weakness in his enemy's fighting. Seconds into it, he felt his mind drift away. He couldn't seem to concentrate on Zim at all lately. What was wrong with him? Did he even want to save the world anymore?
That was a ridiculus line of thinking, Zim knew. There was nothing more important than bringing honor to the Tallests, to the Armada, and to himself. He still wanted that, so much. But sometimes he just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He wished he could stop, give up, he could tell Dib he didn't want Earth anymore, board up his house, sever his connections to the tallest, he could *rest*. He was sick of this planet, sick of that Dib, sick of everything.
As sick as Dib felt, he tried to drag his mind back to the alien, but to no avail. He sighed. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever. He wished he could just give up now, but the consequences would be far to great.
Zim shuddered to think what would happen if he stopped fighting. An enternity of torture and a death in captivity. No, Zim would never give up...
Dib would never give up...
Because *HE* would never give up...