When you look at him you can feel it in your stomach, like a low lead balloon drooping down. He makes your skin hot and your hands red with anger, an antithesis to the idea of humanity itself he sets you in high places of such rage you can’t begin to fathom the depths below.
He's disgusting, he has such horrible insect skin with those little hairs covering him like a house fly. His contacts lie about the true colour of his eyes which had been red like january fire.
You think about it a lot, vivisecting him that is. Showing the world the absolute obvious and exposing him for the monster that he is. Your hands gloved rooting through his body and how nice it would be to keep his squeedly spooch in a jar for a shelf in your room like a proud trophy. How he’d try to make deals, trick you or the scientists or calling his armada-only to see, with horror, you burning his leaders and war buddies in front of him with simple water. You get so lost in fantasies of destroying the alien you forget where you are.
You get lost looking at him.
Your eyes trail to his thin barely humanoid lips, the monster in your classroom looks like a liberated devil in the pale orange light of the mid afternoon sun boredly chewing his food. You imagine kissing him, grappling into his wrists and not letting go for dear life as you sink yourself into him. You wonder what he actually feels like, is he cold blooded? Would those thin insect hairs tickle your skin as you pressed against him in all your rage?
You want nothing more than to confront him and intertwine with the wormish tongue that lay in his mouth hidden away. Would he burn from your spit the same way he burns from earth water without glue coating his skin?
You could do it, you know you could if you had enough time you could destroy zim with so little effort it'd be a joke after so long a struggle. You could do so much to him, mind firing off idea after idea for how to break him or even getting in a fist fight with him and splattering him over your clothes until he cant move anymore and your hand caresses his cheek losing yourself in his half lidded eyes.
You look at the invader, you watch him wondering about what his lips feel like.