A well-worn idea, but I haven't written for it yet, so I thought I'd go ahead and give it my own shot.

Warning: Implied genocide, and most likely some interpretable ZADR. (It is not, however, intended as such.)


TOY

The window's sleek glass mirrored the pale face of the human seated before it, the dark rings under his eyes seeming even darker in his reflection, and the teen rested shaking hands on the icy surface. Everything seemed cold here, encased in metal and technology and lorded over by the Irken machine. Irkens were the coldest things of all, he'd learned, and he'd learned it quickly.

Behind him, lithe arms curled around his neck to drape over his front, an airy chuckle echoing by his ear; even Zim's breath had a chill to it. Shuddering, Dib leaned forward, trying to keep distance between himself and his enemy, but he was tugged back by the metal looped around his neck. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Zim cooed, tone cruelly mocking, and his eyes were filled with a delighted sort of malice as he, too, stared out beyond the glass.

"It's disgusting," Dib muttered, subconsciously tugging at the collar. It had been cold once as well, until just a few days ago, when it had been snapped on to him to be warmed by his skin for the rest of his life. But despite the long days they'd spent here, the ship still hadn't moved. Instead, it remained in orbit over what had once been a thriving planet, now plunged into an eternal winter.

Irkens hated heat. Dib had always known that, ever since the first summer the Invader had spent on Earth, and now he was reminded of it constantly. Already, Zim's claws were digging into his chest, as though to punish him for the warmth his body produced. A hiss of cool air against the side of his face, a sign of further displeasure, but Zim didn't let him go. "Get used to it," the Irken drawled then, settling more of his weight against the teen's back, not caring that it made Dib uncomfortable. It wasn't that he was heavy, of course...just cold.

A light sigh escaped the human, hands dropping down to rest in his lap. He didn't feel like fighting; not right now. But he wasn't about to follow whatever orders the Irken might dream up, either.

"Glare at me all you like, Dib-human, I don't care. It won't help you," Zim huffed, dragging his claws down the navy fabric of Dib's shirt. "You're Zim's now." He laughed at that, the sound grating and scornful, one hand coming up to play with the metal collar teasingly before he pulled away, much to Dib's relief.

It was short-lived, however, as the Irken sank down next to him, reclining against his shoulder and chilling him further. "Go away," Dib grumbled, frowning as he stared down at what remained of Earth; the once blue and green planet had turned a pure white. "Haven't you tormented me enough yet?"

"Never!" came the expected reply, and he figured that Zim had kept them in orbit for that very reason, adding insult after insult to injury after injury. "And Zim will not go away; you're in no place to give orders." Amusement glittered in the Irken's eyes, before he added pointedly, "Slave."

Another shudder coursed down Dib's spine, serving only to remind him of the device that had been clamped onto his back. He wasn't stupid; he knew what it was for. "You're never going to let me go, are you?" he whispered.

Zim's expression darkened, and a wicked smile slowly curled at his lips. He leaned in close to the human, repeating in a quiet hiss, "Never." One claw slipped between collar and skin, tugging Dib even closer, all so Zim could growl right into his face. "You're mine."


Yeah, you tell him, Zim! o.o

Note: Beyond Prompt Number 58, updates may be much slower, as I've started work on writing a novel for NaNoWriMo. I probably won't make it to 50,000 words, but I'm still going to try, because I need to get at least ONE of my novel ideas down on paper. (Or...computer. You know, whatever.) I will still try to update at least every other day, however.