8 Works by dibvoid
Listing Works
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“The only cure is a silver bullet,” said Abaddon, miming a gun with two fingers. His tone was dry, but the faint grimness beneath it wouldn’t escape her. “Not exactly ideal.” He circled her like a shadow, head tilted in that way of his that was both curious and unnerving. “Your humanity will dwindle as the days pass. When the transformation completes, you’ll return to yourself… and start again.”
He leaned closer, sniffing once, and his expression shifted, faint surprise at the trace of wolf already clinging to her scent. It was subtle, but there, in her blood. The change had already begun.
In which Esther contracts lycanthropy, leading to her newfound werewolf instincts clashing with Abaddon’s demonic nature.
Or, Abaddon and Esther get it on doggy-style.
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Humans were primitive. Incredibly so. Of all the sentient aliens Zim had had the displeasure of encountering, humans were probably the worst. The irken lamented over this—not for the first time—as his face was shoved into the filthy schoolyard soil. He so, so desperately wanted to extend his PAK legs and skewer the horrible beast pinning him from behind, but he could not. Submission was expected here. He grunted when the hand on the back of his head pushed him harder into the cold dirt.
In which Zim navigates the confusing social dynamics within an Omegaverse AU.
Or, Dib presenting as an alpha leads to a new territory in his and Zim’s relationship. Typical omegaverse smut ensues, with a side of angst and omegaverse social commentary.
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“When a demon’s spirit ends,” he says, “There is no ache. No lack. We do not perish naturally, so to die is a great failure…” He hesitates, and then his voice dips, quieter. “We simply go on with what remains. We feel no absence, only the shape of what is.”
Esther eyes his hand on her skirt.
Abaddon goes on. “It is no wonder Hell has not come to retrieve me. I may as well be dead. The Mortal Plane my purgatory.”
Her hand slips up into his hair. “Even if Hell doesn’t, I would grieve you—miss you—if you were gone.”
In which Abaddon is coerced into attending Aunt Rose’s funeral, only to be locked out of the ceremony by divine forces.
Or, Abaddon and Esther get away from the grief to indulge in each other’s sexual fantasies.
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“I can smell you too, you know? Your soul. It reeks of enchantment and hope and myrrh. Resin.” Abaddon turned to press his own nose into her jaw. “Like smoke, incense, an undertone of acridity and fire. Your black magic taints your purity.”
In which Esther misunderstands the boundaries of her best friend, Abaddon.
Or, Esther explores her budding sexuality with the hotel’s resident demon.
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“So, I was mostly kidding,” Esther finally spoke again, cutting into the quiet air. “But, uh, your silence is making me think maybe it’s not a joke… to you.”
Abaddon said nothing.
Cautiously, and slowly, Esther questioned, “Does my blood turn you on?”
In which Esther, against Abaddon's wishes, dabbles in Blood Magic, resulting in a painful wound.
Or, Abaddon is drawn to Esther's blood, ending in a spur-of-the-moment sexual encounter.
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“You’re leaving me here?” exclaimed Esther. She slammed a fist on the table. “After all that you’re just gonna shove me in a hole in the ground?”
Abaddon dragged a hand down his face. “Holes are great! I’ve spent many years in various holes, and none of them were as nice as this one!”
In which instead of running off the Acolytes of Abaddon at the end of episode 10, Abaddon makes one more trip back in time, leading to a grave error.
Or, Abaddon forgets to dig up the Time Relic during one last Loop.
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“He couldn’t find it, couldn’t find the source. Was it a virus? Was it a chip? Was it poison? Zim didn’t know, but whatever the Dib had done, Zim needed to fix it.”
In which Dib doesn’t consider the fact that pain and pleasure tend to light up the same brain circuits.
Or, Dib masturbates and Zim can feel it.
(This fic has been edited 5/1/2021 to fix some typos, dialogue, and just a few things that bothered me in general, like wording. Otherwise the story is exactly the same.)
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Summary
Zim stood in cautious silence. He frowned down at the sleeping form on the couch below him, unsure whether he should bother to try waking it. It might attack if it was in a bad mood. Zim narrowed his eyes. Or it might capture him with its long arms and — Zim shuddered. Unspeakable. If he were lucky it wouldn’t put up a fight at all. Zim wasn’t normally lucky, but the mighty invader doesn’t need such nonsense to be victorious!
The irken took a deep breath, and placed a hand on Dib Membrane’s shoulder.
Edit 4/30/21: This fic is on an indefinite hiatus. I might finish it, or I might rewrite it. Probably rewrite it haha. I don’t really like how I characterized Zim and Dib in this. Thank you for all the love in the comments. I appreciate it so much.
Edit 2: I was 18 when I wrote this and it’s not that great. I leave it up for people who like it anyway. Thanks guys.