🛸👽Invader Zim Oneshots👽🛸 (ZADR, RAPR)

Deck the Halls With Doom (ZADR)

og summary: "First of all, it's not like I invented mistletoe. And actually what most people think of as mistletoe isn't technically – but anyway, not the point. You're supposed to – I mean, people usually..." Dib cleared his throat, his laughter petering out as he felt his face grow warm under the unrelenting laser beam of Zim's eyes. "Kiss."

(A rude awakening, a mis(tle)understanding and at least the second most horrible X-mas ever.)

notes: in all of these, everyone is 18+ or the Irken equivalent unless otherwise stated✨
anyway, kickin off with baby's first ZADR fic!! written for Christmas 2019 and inspired by that one tumblr post about "mistlefoe", you probably know the one I mean.

***

By now, Dib was pretty used to being woken up in the middle of the night by the thwack of something hitting his window – tacos, rubber pigs, rocks with Irken profanities – but were those flowers? That was a new one.

Grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, he stumbled out of bed and down the stairs, pulling his coat on over his pyjamas as he opened the door – and stepped right into a thick blanket of mistletoe. The entire street was covered in the stuff; it hung from every window and doorway, falling off roofs and clogging up chimneys. And it didn't take long to figure out where it was coming from: merrily ploughing through the leaf-filled road was some kind of tank with three rotating cannons, ruthlessly pumping out mistletoe under the questionable command of a very familiar-looking...

"Zim?"

"Ah! Dib-stink!" His alien nemesis waved like the world's worst Christmas float, eyes lighting up with malicious glee. "You're just in time to witness Zim's complete and total annihilation of your miserable dirt-clod!"

"With mistle – whoa!" Dib just managed to duck before a bullet-like barrage of mistletoe smacked him in the face, hitting the door instead. "Didn't you already try the whole stealing Christmas thing?" Even by Zim's twisted logic, this was a weird way to do it. It was a big mess, sure, and could probably cause a couple road accidents, but unless all the mistletoe was rigged to explode, this was way down the list of diabolical schemes.

Zim seemed satisfied, however, as he hopped off the vehicle, looking over his leafy kingdom proudly with his hands on his hips. "Take the wheel, GIR!"

"I would, buuut I eated it!" GIR yelled, waving cheerfully as he dangled from one of the cannons from the tail of his dog disguise.

"...Yes." Zim pursed his lips, only looking briefly concerned as the tank and GIR rolled out of sight before turning his attention back to Dib's question. "So it may seem, to inferior minds like yours! But that was –"

"...a total failure?"

" Only phase one of my master plan!" he continued, undeterred. "As soon as the rest of your fellow Earth-monkeys step outside, they will have no choice but to fight, as the mistle-foe dictates! Before long, they'll destroy each other, and your pathetic planet will surely perish at the merciless hands of Zim!"

Well, that made...even less sense than usual. Dib lifted a sceptical eyebrow. "Zim, how does that even – do you think people fight under mistletoe?"

"Eh?" Zim paused mid-maniacal cackle, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Obviously! Are you unfamiliar with the pointless practices of even your own kind, Dib-worm? What other function could this mistle-foe possibly serve?"

Dib just stared at him for a moment, and then he started to laugh – and couldn't stop, thanks to the increasing bewilderment of Zim's expression, until he was doubled over, clutching his sides and cackling like a madman. "Oh my god, Zim, you – you are the galaxy's biggest idiot!"