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Description
This is my entry for Chihuahuagirl88's contest.
Rapr.
_________

“My Tallest….”

“Well?” he snapped impatiently, arms crossed over his chest. The Medic under his glare shifted nervously; the intern seemed indifferent, continuing to file her claws. A bead of sweat trickled. Red narrowed his eyes, watching it roll down his Medic’s face.

“Well, my Tallests,” he coughed importantly, “It seems you’ve, um… developed a… um…. Well… you see….”

“You’re pregnant,” his assistant finally droned, not even glancing up, her indigo eyes quite indifferent to the paling of both the Medic and her leader’s face. “Three weeks in with about eight more to go; have fun.” Roughly fifteen minutes of pure silence pursued before the leader finally cracked.

“T-that’s a lie!” Red hollered, lunging off the table to grab her by the collar of her shirt. “It’s a lie, take it back!” She looked on apathetically, shrugging.

“Your own fault – there’s a reason that sexual activity is illegal, you know,” she sneered, and his hands quivered, yearning to tear her limb from limb, to see her scream in agony and writhe in the floor with blood springing from every orifice of her body. Instead, he rounded on the Medic, pointing accusingly.

“I want those tests done again, and I want them done right!” he demanded, his crimson eyes burning with a rage, fist curling in the collar of the intern he still clutched. Oh how badly he wanted to kill her. The Medic remained silent, cringing. “What, you believe her? I’m not pregnant! That’s impossible! I’m not even a-”

“Yeah, he was too scared to tell you it wasn’t an anus you were developing. Though, it’d be more fitting considering you’re such an asshole,” the female snidely remarked, and all color drained from the Tallest’s face as his eyes lolled slowly to his waste, which was downed in its usual robe.

“My Tallests… it seemed… um… you have a chemical imbalance… it wasn’t too uncommon! Well, not horribly. Um….”

“You’re a hermaphrodite,” that accursed little pest said gleefully, amused to no end with her shark-toothed grin. She staggered back as a deliberately cruel clout was delivered to the center of her face, but she had no time to recover as Red sprang on her and began wringing her neck, yelling choice words at the top of his lungs.

“My Tallest, my Tallest!” the Medic screamed desperately from behind.

Suddenly, Red felt a pinch in his shoulder. A wave of nausea came over him, and he slackened his grip on her, breathing heavily, shakily. “It’s a lie…” he insisted futilely, “The whole thing… is a lie….” He continued to mumble profanity under his breath as the Medic dragged him off his assistant, the needle still in Red’s shoulder.

“My Tallest, please…” he whispered, leaning Red against a wall, “You have to understand that there are consequences for your actions, and this is one of them.”

“Then get rid of it,” Red murmured dizzily, groping the wall in an attempt to find a center of balance.

“Killing it could also kill you. You must understand… no Irken has conceived a smeet in centuries. The technology to safely remove it is not available anymore. Trust me sir, Skah and I have spent hours scouring the library and databases in search of information. My Tallest… I’m sorry… but you’re going to have to go through with this.”

“You didn’t say this would happen…” he replied feebly, voice near croaking; whatever they had drugged him with was screwing with his emotions… and vision. He saw blue and green swirls dancing like smoke against the back wall.

“We told you to stop copulating, you moron,” the female grumbled, still gingerly massaging her tender neck. “Look, when you came in asking about what the hell you and the other Tallest were growing down there, we told you. We said straight forward that you’d stimulated your hormones to the point of growing organs; not even your PAKs could keep it dormant by then. We told you that you had to stop. We did your whole swear to secrecy thing. And as usual, you ignored everything we said. And now you’re pregnant. I’m sorry ‘my Almighty Tallest’,” she said his title quite dramatically, “But you’re screwed.”

Red moaned pathetically.

xxx

Everything seemed to be an off shade of pink… or maybe lilac… he couldn’t quite tell. Not that it mattered. Everything was swimming, looking as if it were liquid before his eyes. He felt like liquid himself, like his entire essence was melting; with any luck, it would. The cup rose to his lip – he’d lost count, but he could surmise that he was on his sixth or seventh. His hands shook as if he had arthritis, several drops of his liquid gold missing his mouth entirely to spill down his fingers. Not that it mattered. What mattered anymore, anyhow?

“Red?” Sweet voice… but not so sweet that particular day, despite its good intentions – like honey on a gaping wound; he grunted in response. “Red, are you in here?”

“’G ‘way…” he gurgled drunkenly, and just barely managed to peel his face from the table’s surface in order to sit up.

Purple gazed in disgust as his co-Tallest hiccupped. There was a reason he had tried so hard to banish alcohol from the empire. “Red… Red, come on.” He strode to the table, and snatched the shot-glass from Red’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“’S-it mean? Was it all mean?” Red babbled pointlessly, slumping heavily. Purple rolled his eyes, very tempted to pour the ‘liquid gold’ unto his companion’s head. The latter reached out for the bottle itself, but Purple quickly slapped his hand, which quickly withdrew.

“Red, stop being an idiot for at least ten minutes,” Purple pleaded, sliding into the seat on the opposite side of the table. Red blinked dumbly, staring at the pink tones in front of him. “Now tell me what’s wrong – I haven’t seen you try to drink yourself dumb in ages.” Red fell silent, glancing away toward the floor, wavering hap hazardously. Purple frowned, leaning forward, an antenna rising in unease. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Your fault…” Red mumbled with a sickly grin, ridiculously ludicrous. “’S all your faul’….” Purple blinked, and leaned forward, gradually drifting up off his chair.

“What’d the Medic say, Red? Red?”

“’G ‘way, you… thing….” He slumped, sentence trailing off as Purple’s hands began massaging his neck gently, and he feebly tilted back, his head resting against his co-leader’s abdomen. He went cross-eyed for a moment, staring off into the distance. Purple’s concern deepened as he raised his hand above Red’s vision.

“How many?”

“Five….”

“Red, I only have two.” His fingers slowly retracted to his palm. It was near painful to see the dazed expression on the drunkard’s face. “Want to talk about it?” he asked lowly, voice just above a whisper in Red’s antenna. A weak chuckle was the response to be received, but it soon died out.

“It nothin’….” Red answered, wrenching away from his mate.

“That’s a lie.”

“Jus’ needa’ lose weight….” Red fibbed through his teeth, his voice a slur. Purple squinted, and glanced at Red’s waist. “Tha’s all….”

“Huh… well, you are getting a bit… um….” Purple dropped his statement, and instead narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “Wait, you wouldn’t care about that. This has nothing to do with your weight; does it?” Red blinked wearily, and mumbled incoherently, leaving Purple a bit lost. “What?”

“This shoul’ be you….” Red uttered, sinking in his seat, eyes closing. Purple gnashed his teeth together. “Shoul’ be you… you… not me…. You… ‘s your fault….”

“Red, what are you-?”

“Get out of here! Go! Get! I don’t wanna’ see you, don’ wanna’ know you… just get! Go! Leave me alone!” Red suddenly exploded, jerking around in his seat to attempt to lash out at Purple, but failed miserably, and simply collapsed on the back of the chair. Purple growled lividly and jerked him up by his chin, and a layer of cursing was added to Red’s ramblings.

“Shut up!” he finally screeched, slapping Red hard across the face. Red winced at the contact, and grew silent. Pinks and maroons and swirls and waves… meshing, colors blending, devouring the very fringes of his sanity to work toward the center, now with splashes of violet. He was released roughly, shoved. Purple hid is face in his hand, taking a moment to cool down before continuing. “Talk to me when you’re sober,” he muttered, stalking away.

Red grimaced, and jammed his eyes shut, turning back to face the table, slouching over it. He felt cold and indeed shivered as he rested his elbows on the table. The sweet smell the room had began to sour. Everything took on a morbid air, and he tried to clench his fists, but was too intoxicated to even be able to tell if he had succeeded in the slight motion.

Purple sighed and paused mid-stride to glance over his shoulder at firm back of his companion. “Red… are you sure everything is okay?” Red seemed to take a long moment to think over his response before simply nodding. “Well… I’m here,” Purple added sympathetically, and Red nodded.

He was acutely aware of Purple’s leaving. His antennae sagged, and he pursed his lip, a face of contorted agony. He wanted desperately to admit the product of their sin… but how could he? What could he say? ‘Hey Purple, guess what? I’m pregnant, so we’re probably going to be deactivated when word leaks out?’ They were going to die… there wasn’t any hope. No, they were stuck. They had brought about their own demise. Defectives, they were defectives…. What else could explain it? He might as well die right then and there. He reached for the shot glass, but ended up missing it, so he snatched at his bottle instead, lifting it high over his head as he drained it, guzzling his liquid gold. His head fuzzy, everything smeared, all he had ever known twisting and churning. White rabbits and marmalade somehow came across his mind, chewing at the back of his conscious thought in a flashy display of pure drunkenness. Tears – actual tears began to form at the corners of his eyes. ‘Just keep drinking… keep drinking… it’ll all go away.’ The pink changed to a twisted autumn and autumn to an obscure spring, then spring into wintry darkness that swallowed him whole.

Just drink it all away….

xxx

Thirty minutes passed. A service drone crept into the room, sweeping the floor. He jolted when he noticed a figure sagged in a seat at one of the tables. He scurried forward, antennae twitching in confusion. He stared at the rising and falling chest armor, the troubled face that drooled unto the table top, the empty bottle on the floor, and the goose bumps on the lithe arms. Slowly, cautiously, he bent down, picked up the bottle, and with a hesitant salute, scuttled away to continue tidying the rest of the bar.

Pretty wasn't the picture to be painted.

___

So basically, Red gets pregnant. Purple doesn't know a thing yet (except that they've developed weird physical developements, if yeah know what I mean), and Red is stressed over it, since he's QUITE dominant and didn't even WANT kids. And so he's spazzing.

His solution? Drink it all away....

Jhonen Vasquez hates me. Invader Zim belongs to him and Nickelodeon.

Description
This is my entry for Chihuahuagirl88's contest.
Rapr.
_________

“My Tallest….”

“Well?” he snapped impatiently, arms crossed over his chest. The Medic under his glare shifted nervously; the intern seemed indifferent, continuing to file her claws. A bead of sweat trickled. Red narrowed his eyes, watching it roll down his Medic’s face.

“Well, my Tallests,” he coughed importantly, “It seems you’ve, um… developed a… um…. Well… you see….”

“You’re pregnant,” his assistant finally droned, not even glancing up, her indigo eyes quite indifferent to the paling of both the Medic and her leader’s face. “Three weeks in with about eight more to go; have fun.” Roughly fifteen minutes of pure silence pursued before the leader finally cracked.

“T-that’s a lie!” Red hollered, lunging off the table to grab her by the collar of her shirt. “It’s a lie, take it back!” She looked on apathetically, shrugging.

“Your own fault – there’s a reason that sexual activity is illegal, you know,” she sneered, and his hands quivered, yearning to tear her limb from limb, to see her scream in agony and writhe in the floor with blood springing from every orifice of her body. Instead, he rounded on the Medic, pointing accusingly.

“I want those tests done again, and I want them done right!” he demanded, his crimson eyes burning with a rage, fist curling in the collar of the intern he still clutched. Oh how badly he wanted to kill her. The Medic remained silent, cringing. “What, you believe her? I’m not pregnant! That’s impossible! I’m not even a-”

“Yeah, he was too scared to tell you it wasn’t an anus you were developing. Though, it’d be more fitting considering you’re such an asshole,” the female snidely remarked, and all color drained from the Tallest’s face as his eyes lolled slowly to his waste, which was downed in its usual robe.

“My Tallests… it seemed… um… you have a chemical imbalance… it wasn’t too uncommon! Well, not horribly. Um….”

“You’re a hermaphrodite,” that accursed little pest said gleefully, amused to no end with her shark-toothed grin. She staggered back as a deliberately cruel clout was delivered to the center of her face, but she had no time to recover as Red sprang on her and began wringing her neck, yelling choice words at the top of his lungs.

“My Tallest, my Tallest!” the Medic screamed desperately from behind.

Suddenly, Red felt a pinch in his shoulder. A wave of nausea came over him, and he slackened his grip on her, breathing heavily, shakily. “It’s a lie…” he insisted futilely, “The whole thing… is a lie….” He continued to mumble profanity under his breath as the Medic dragged him off his assistant, the needle still in Red’s shoulder.

“My Tallest, please…” he whispered, leaning Red against a wall, “You have to understand that there are consequences for your actions, and this is one of them.”

“Then get rid of it,” Red murmured dizzily, groping the wall in an attempt to find a center of balance.

“Killing it could also kill you. You must understand… no Irken has conceived a smeet in centuries. The technology to safely remove it is not available anymore. Trust me sir, Skah and I have spent hours scouring the library and databases in search of information. My Tallest… I’m sorry… but you’re going to have to go through with this.”

“You didn’t say this would happen…” he replied feebly, voice near croaking; whatever they had drugged him with was screwing with his emotions… and vision. He saw blue and green swirls dancing like smoke against the back wall.

“We told you to stop copulating, you moron,” the female grumbled, still gingerly massaging her tender neck. “Look, when you came in asking about what the hell you and the other Tallest were growing down there, we told you. We said straight forward that you’d stimulated your hormones to the point of growing organs; not even your PAKs could keep it dormant by then. We told you that you had to stop. We did your whole swear to secrecy thing. And as usual, you ignored everything we said. And now you’re pregnant. I’m sorry ‘my Almighty Tallest’,” she said his title quite dramatically, “But you’re screwed.”

Red moaned pathetically.

xxx

Everything seemed to be an off shade of pink… or maybe lilac… he couldn’t quite tell. Not that it mattered. Everything was swimming, looking as if it were liquid before his eyes. He felt like liquid himself, like his entire essence was melting; with any luck, it would. The cup rose to his lip – he’d lost count, but he could surmise that he was on his sixth or seventh. His hands shook as if he had arthritis, several drops of his liquid gold missing his mouth entirely to spill down his fingers. Not that it mattered. What mattered anymore, anyhow?

“Red?” Sweet voice… but not so sweet that particular day, despite its good intentions – like honey on a gaping wound; he grunted in response. “Red, are you in here?”

“’G ‘way…” he gurgled drunkenly, and just barely managed to peel his face from the table’s surface in order to sit up.

Purple gazed in disgust as his co-Tallest hiccupped. There was a reason he had tried so hard to banish alcohol from the empire. “Red… Red, come on.” He strode to the table, and snatched the shot-glass from Red’s hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“’S-it mean? Was it all mean?” Red babbled pointlessly, slumping heavily. Purple rolled his eyes, very tempted to pour the ‘liquid gold’ unto his companion’s head. The latter reached out for the bottle itself, but Purple quickly slapped his hand, which quickly withdrew.

“Red, stop being an idiot for at least ten minutes,” Purple pleaded, sliding into the seat on the opposite side of the table. Red blinked dumbly, staring at the pink tones in front of him. “Now tell me what’s wrong – I haven’t seen you try to drink yourself dumb in ages.” Red fell silent, glancing away toward the floor, wavering hap hazardously. Purple frowned, leaning forward, an antenna rising in unease. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Your fault…” Red mumbled with a sickly grin, ridiculously ludicrous. “’S all your faul’….” Purple blinked, and leaned forward, gradually drifting up off his chair.

“What’d the Medic say, Red? Red?”

“’G ‘way, you… thing….” He slumped, sentence trailing off as Purple’s hands began massaging his neck gently, and he feebly tilted back, his head resting against his co-leader’s abdomen. He went cross-eyed for a moment, staring off into the distance. Purple’s concern deepened as he raised his hand above Red’s vision.

“How many?”

“Five….”

“Red, I only have two.” His fingers slowly retracted to his palm. It was near painful to see the dazed expression on the drunkard’s face. “Want to talk about it?” he asked lowly, voice just above a whisper in Red’s antenna. A weak chuckle was the response to be received, but it soon died out.

“It nothin’….” Red answered, wrenching away from his mate.

“That’s a lie.”

“Jus’ needa’ lose weight….” Red fibbed through his teeth, his voice a slur. Purple squinted, and glanced at Red’s waist. “Tha’s all….”

“Huh… well, you are getting a bit… um….” Purple dropped his statement, and instead narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “Wait, you wouldn’t care about that. This has nothing to do with your weight; does it?” Red blinked wearily, and mumbled incoherently, leaving Purple a bit lost. “What?”

“This shoul’ be you….” Red uttered, sinking in his seat, eyes closing. Purple gnashed his teeth together. “Shoul’ be you… you… not me…. You… ‘s your fault….”

“Red, what are you-?”

“Get out of here! Go! Get! I don’t wanna’ see you, don’ wanna’ know you… just get! Go! Leave me alone!” Red suddenly exploded, jerking around in his seat to attempt to lash out at Purple, but failed miserably, and simply collapsed on the back of the chair. Purple growled lividly and jerked him up by his chin, and a layer of cursing was added to Red’s ramblings.

“Shut up!” he finally screeched, slapping Red hard across the face. Red winced at the contact, and grew silent. Pinks and maroons and swirls and waves… meshing, colors blending, devouring the very fringes of his sanity to work toward the center, now with splashes of violet. He was released roughly, shoved. Purple hid is face in his hand, taking a moment to cool down before continuing. “Talk to me when you’re sober,” he muttered, stalking away.

Red grimaced, and jammed his eyes shut, turning back to face the table, slouching over it. He felt cold and indeed shivered as he rested his elbows on the table. The sweet smell the room had began to sour. Everything took on a morbid air, and he tried to clench his fists, but was too intoxicated to even be able to tell if he had succeeded in the slight motion.

Purple sighed and paused mid-stride to glance over his shoulder at firm back of his companion. “Red… are you sure everything is okay?” Red seemed to take a long moment to think over his response before simply nodding. “Well… I’m here,” Purple added sympathetically, and Red nodded.

He was acutely aware of Purple’s leaving. His antennae sagged, and he pursed his lip, a face of contorted agony. He wanted desperately to admit the product of their sin… but how could he? What could he say? ‘Hey Purple, guess what? I’m pregnant, so we’re probably going to be deactivated when word leaks out?’ They were going to die… there wasn’t any hope. No, they were stuck. They had brought about their own demise. Defectives, they were defectives…. What else could explain it? He might as well die right then and there. He reached for the shot glass, but ended up missing it, so he snatched at his bottle instead, lifting it high over his head as he drained it, guzzling his liquid gold. His head fuzzy, everything smeared, all he had ever known twisting and churning. White rabbits and marmalade somehow came across his mind, chewing at the back of his conscious thought in a flashy display of pure drunkenness. Tears – actual tears began to form at the corners of his eyes. ‘Just keep drinking… keep drinking… it’ll all go away.’ The pink changed to a twisted autumn and autumn to an obscure spring, then spring into wintry darkness that swallowed him whole.

Just drink it all away….

xxx

Thirty minutes passed. A service drone crept into the room, sweeping the floor. He jolted when he noticed a figure sagged in a seat at one of the tables. He scurried forward, antennae twitching in confusion. He stared at the rising and falling chest armor, the troubled face that drooled unto the table top, the empty bottle on the floor, and the goose bumps on the lithe arms. Slowly, cautiously, he bent down, picked up the bottle, and with a hesitant salute, scuttled away to continue tidying the rest of the bar.

Pretty wasn't the picture to be painted.

___

So basically, Red gets pregnant. Purple doesn't know a thing yet (except that they've developed weird physical developements, if yeah know what I mean), and Red is stressed over it, since he's QUITE dominant and didn't even WANT kids. And so he's spazzing.

His solution? Drink it all away....

Jhonen Vasquez hates me. Invader Zim belongs to him and Nickelodeon.