Dark

Y/N'S POV

The room buzzed with a joyful cacophony of voices and laughter. Fairy lights danced along the walls, reflecting off glittering decorations. The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, with a hint of the hot chocolate bar near the corner. This wasn’t just a party—it was the party. And I had no idea how I managed to get everyone here.

“Hey! No way I’m losing again!” DanTDM shouted, holding a controller with the determination of a warrior. Across from him, Joel Dawson leaned forward, tongue slightly out as he focused. The Mario Kart showdown between the two had somehow drawn a crowd.

“Move over, kids,” Robert Downey Jr. smirked, picking up another controller. “Let the real gamer show you how it’s done.”

I laughed, sipping from my cup as I wandered through the crowd. Dillon was by the fireplace, showing Chris Evans some survival tricks. “You know, if you ever get trapped in the wilderness…” Dillon started, only to be interrupted by Bucky Barnes.

“Steve would never let that happen,” Bucky said, smirking at Chris.

“Okay, fair.” Chris shrugged with a laugh.

Sam and Dean Winchester were huddled near the drinks table, arguing over whether eggnog should have alcohol in it. “It’s tradition!” Dean insisted.

“It’s disgusting,” Sam countered.

Meanwhile, the Power Rangers RPM crew—Scott, Flynn, Summer, Ziggy, Gem, and Gemma—had commandeered the karaoke machine. Gem and Gemma were belting out a hilariously off-key version of “Jingle Bell Rock,” with Ziggy trying to keep up.

I turned to see Jake Webber and Corey Scherer pulling off ridiculous dance moves in the middle of the room, with Aaron Doh and Colby Brock hyping them up. Tara Yummy and Katrina Stuart cheered them on while filming for their socials.

Over by the dessert table, Jacksepticeye and Markiplier were in a heated debate about the proper way to eat a gingerbread cookie. “You don’t just bite the head off first!” Jack exclaimed.

“Why not? It’s efficient,” Mark countered, taking a demonstrative bite.

Near the tree, the Bat Family—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and even Alfred—were quietly enjoying themselves. Well, except for Jason, who was trying to convince Damian to loosen up and eat a cookie.

“Look, kid, it’s not going to kill you.”

Damian frowned but took the cookie anyway.

“Happy?”

“Thrilled,” Jason deadpanned.

Marty McFly and Chase Randall had somehow found an old guitar and were jamming out, drawing in NateWantsToBattle and Dookieshed for an impromptu music session. It wasn’t long before Paultin Seppa and Strix joined in, with Strix awkwardly trying not to spill her drink on the guitar.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Flynn. “You doing okay, Y/N? It’s your party, and I haven’t seen you stop moving all night.”

“Me? I’m great!” I said, smiling.

“Well, take a breath. The world won’t end if you sit down for five minutes,” he said, always the caring one.

Nearby, MatPat was giving a wildly enthusiastic breakdown of the science behind snowflakes to Diath Woodrow and Evelyn. Evelyn nodded politely, though I could see Strix stifling a laugh behind her hand.

Sam Golbach and Gizzy Gazza were huddled together, plotting some kind of prank. “I’m just saying, fake snow in the vents could be hilarious,” Sam whispered.

“Until someone gets buried alive,” Katrina chimed in from across the room.

The Kratt brothers, Martin and Chris, were showing Josh Hutcherson a mini wildlife documentary they’d put together earlier in the day, while Carter Grayson chatted with Scott Truman about leadership tips.

Before I could even attempt to check on everyone, I heard Chris Hemsworth’s unmistakable laugh booming from the center of the room. He had everyone’s attention as he told a story about the time Thor “borrowed” his hammer for holiday decorating.

The night was chaotic, loud, and absolutely perfect. I couldn’t believe how many incredible people had come together in one place to ring in the new year.

As the clock struck midnight, I found myself surrounded by friends—no, family—as we all counted down together.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

Cheers erupted, confetti flew, and someone (probably Ziggy) set off a party popper way too close to the ceiling.

Looking around at everyone’s smiling faces, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. This wasn’t just a party. It was a celebration of love, laughter, and the bonds that made life extraordinary.

Y/N'S POV

I don't know how it came to this. The longest night of my life, spent with the people who had become my family, yet somehow still feeling so alone. It should’ve been a night of celebration, of joy, of love—the kind of warmth I always imagined Christmas would bring. But instead, the weight of the world pressed down on my chest like an unseen hand, and no matter how much I smiled, no matter how much I tried to join in, something was missing.

The room was lit up with twinkling lights from the Christmas tree. Ziggy had insisted on setting it up himself, despite the fact that his "decorating" style involved more tinsel and glitter than actual ornaments. Summer, of course, had helped him, laughing at every little mess, but making sure the tree at least looked presentable. Gem and Gemma were both dressed in matching festive sweaters, sitting together, making plans for the perfect Christmas dinner—Ziggy, ever the pessimist, kept sneaking in complaints about how it wouldn’t be good enough. As usual, no one listened, and we all settled into our little corner of peace, if only for tonight.

Flynn was perched on the couch next to Summer, a half-full glass of eggnog in his hand, his eyes tracing the lights on the tree. I could tell his mind was elsewhere, probably thinking about some mission or wondering if this was truly what Christmas was meant to be. Then there was Scott. Red Ranger. My best friend, my rock. He was sitting beside me, an awkward silence between us that neither of us could seem to break. He kept glancing at me, and every time I looked at him, I saw the same sadness in his eyes. It was like we both knew something was off, but neither of us wanted to say it aloud.

Dillon sat quietly in the corner, his dark eyes watching the rest of us. He wasn’t one for crowds, and I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t either, but somehow, we both found ourselves here tonight. Gemma leaned in close to Dillon, whispering something that made him crack a smile, though it was only brief.

The night had been filled with laughter, with easy conversation, but beneath it all, there was an unspoken tension. Everyone here knew what we were all dealing with—what we had to face every single day. The weight of being Rangers, of protecting the world from chaos and destruction. But tonight, there were no enemies to fight, no battles to win. It was just us.

And yet, it didn’t feel like enough. The Christmas cheer felt… hollow.

I stood up from the couch, excusing myself, needing a moment to breathe. The quiet hum of the house was almost deafening in the stillness. I slipped into the kitchen, my hands gripping the counter as I stared out the window, watching the snow fall in slow motion.

The door creaked open behind me, and I didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

"Hey," Scott said softly, his voice a little too gentle. "You okay?"

I finally turned to face him, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just… I don’t know. It’s just one of those nights."

Scott’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, his presence bringing me comfort, even though it was still clear that something was missing. His hand reached out, brushing against mine, and it felt like that tiny connection was the only thing grounding me in this moment.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I get it."

We stood there for a moment, silent, just taking in the sounds of the others in the other room. But I knew that silence wouldn’t last. Not tonight. Because we were family, and no matter how hard it was, we would get through this. Together.

"Come on," Scott said with a small smile, gently tugging me back toward the others. "Let’s not let this night be about what’s missing. Let’s make it about what we’ve got."

As we stepped back into the living room, I looked around at all of them—Ziggy, Summer, Flynn, Gem, Gemma, Dillon, Scott, and even me. We were all here. We were alive. And that was something to be grateful for.

Y/N'S POV

I tugged my scarf tighter, the crisp winter air biting at my cheeks as I stood on the snowy sidewalk. The city was dressed in its holiday finest—twinkling lights strung along every building, wreaths adorning doorways, and the soft hum of Christmas carols drifting from every corner. But this year, there was an odd tension in the air. A theft had shaken the festive spirit to its core, and it was up to me—and MatPat—to crack the case.

“Hey!” MatPat’s voice cut through the evening air. He was walking toward me, a mixture of excitement and concern in his eyes, as he adjusted his jacket. His usual YouTuber confidence was replaced by the determined focus of a man on a mission. He flashed a grin, but I could see the underlying frustration. He was good at hiding it, but I knew him well enough.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at the darkened building looming ahead. It was the center of the city’s annual Christmas charity event, the place where a massive diamond-encrusted ornament had been stolen. The ornament wasn’t just any decoration—it had been a symbol of hope for the community. And now, it was gone.

I nodded, tapping my notebook. “I've been reviewing the case all day. There's something off about it, Mat. It’s not just a simple robbery.”

MatPat raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone as we walked toward the entrance of the building. “I’ve got a theory already—this is no ordinary heist. We’re dealing with a mastermind who knows the system. Every security camera malfunction, every alarm deactivated at just the right time. Whoever did this, they planned every detail.”

I smirked. “That’s the MatPat I know. Let’s solve this puzzle.”

Inside, the building smelled of pine, cinnamon, and roasted chestnuts. The Christmas tree stood at the center, its grand golden star flickering dimly as workers scrambled around. The room where the ornament had been displayed was eerily quiet now, the empty pedestal a stark reminder of what had been lost.

I crouched down, inspecting the floor. Footprints. But they were too clean, too perfect. Whoever had been here had been meticulous. “They knew exactly where to step to avoid leaving evidence,” I muttered to myself.

MatPat squatted beside me, his eyes scanning the room. “Not to mention, these footprints are too deliberate to be accidental. It's almost like they were—”

“Following a pattern?” I finished for him. “Exactly. They didn’t just steal the ornament—they knew how to cover their tracks, even down to the smallest detail.”

He stood, his mind racing through possibilities. “This doesn’t feel like a random theft. This feels... planned. Like they knew exactly when the guards would be on break, when the cameras would glitch. It's like they had inside information.”

“Inside?” I repeated, looking around. “But the staff here... they’re all so devoted to the event. It’s hard to imagine one of them being involved.”

MatPat paused, his phone buzzing in his hand. He glanced at the message. “The staff did have access to security feeds, right? Maybe one of them noticed something... maybe one of them has a motive.”

My mind raced. “Or maybe it’s someone who knows how to play the system—someone who knows how to exploit weaknesses in ways others wouldn’t notice. If we can figure out the pattern of the thefts, maybe we can figure out who’s behind it.”

He grinned, that signature “Eureka” moment lighting up his face. “Exactly. It’s like a game theory problem. The thief is playing by the rules of the game, but they're doing it with an advantage. If we can outsmart them, we can find their next move.”

We spent hours combing through the building, comparing security logs and interviewing staff members. Each conversation felt like another piece of the puzzle falling into place. But the deeper we dug, the more the case seemed to unravel, revealing a shocking truth.

Finally, in the quiet of the early morning hours, we found the culprit: one of the event organizers had been orchestrating the thefts all along. They’d been selling off expensive ornaments under the guise of charity, slowly collecting a fortune while distracting everyone with their role in the event. The theft of the diamond-encrusted ornament was the final piece in their elaborate scam.

“We’ve got them,” I said, looking at MatPat. “The mastermind was someone right under our noses.”

MatPat nodded, his smile wide. “Looks like we just cracked the case, detective.”

As the authorities took over and the culprit was apprehended, the Christmas spirit slowly began to return. The diamond ornament would be returned, the heist would be solved, and the city could finally breathe again.

“Good work,” MatPat said, clapping me on the back as we stepped outside into the cold. “I guess Christmas is saved, huh?”

“Yeah,” I replied, my eyes scanning the now peaceful city streets. “For now.”

Y/N'S POV

The snow crunched beneath my boots as I trudged through the park, the crisp December air painting my cheeks a rosy hue. Katrina walked beside me, bundled in a navy peacoat and a knit beanie that matched her hazel eyes. Despite the chill, her laughter warmed the space between us. She had always been my partner in holiday mischief, and tonight was no exception.

"Do you think it’ll work?" Katrina asked, her voice full of excitement and just a hint of skepticism.

"It has to," I replied, gripping the old book tighter under my arm. Its worn leather cover held the key to our plan—or so I hoped. "If what this says is true, then tonight, the Winter Solstice, is the perfect time to call the Solstice Spirit."

Katrina raised an eyebrow. "You’re really going all in on this, aren’t you?"

I shrugged, a smile tugging at my lips. "You said you wanted a Christmas miracle. Let’s make it happen."

The park was nearly empty, save for a few bundled-up couples and kids dragging sleds behind them. We found the spot—an open clearing surrounded by towering evergreens—and laid out the items we’d gathered: a wreath of holly, a candle, and a small bell.

Katrina crouched beside me, her breath forming clouds in the air. "So, we just light the candle and ring the bell? That’s it?"

"Pretty much," I said, flipping through the pages of the book. "Then we say the words."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You and your love for the supernatural. I swear, one day we’re going to end up summoning something we can’t handle."

"Not today," I said with a grin. "Ready?"

She nodded, her smile lighting up the night.

I struck a match and lit the candle, the flame flickering in the gentle breeze. Then, together, we rang the bell and recited the words from the book.

For a moment, nothing happened. Katrina glanced at me, her expression a mix of amusement and pity. "Well, that was—"

Before she could finish, the air shifted. A soft glow enveloped the clearing, and a figure appeared—a woman draped in a shimmering cloak of starlight, her presence both calming and awe-inspiring.

"You have called, and I have come," the figure said, her voice like a melody.

Katrina’s jaw dropped. "No way. Is this real?"

I could only nod, too stunned to speak.

The Solstice Spirit smiled, her gaze warm and kind. "What is it you wish for this Christmas?"

Katrina hesitated, then glanced at me. "I just want this one to feel special," she said softly. "For us to remember it, you know? Something magical."

The spirit nodded, raising her hand. A gentle wave of light swept over the clearing, and suddenly, the snow sparkled like diamonds. The evergreens shimmered with an ethereal glow, and the air filled with the sound of soft, chiming bells.

Katrina grabbed my hand, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is amazing," she whispered.

The Solstice Spirit looked at us, her smile knowing. "Cherish this moment, for it is the love and laughter you share that makes this season magical."

And just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving us standing in the enchanted clearing.

Katrina turned to me, her face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. "Okay, you were right. This is officially the best Christmas ever."

I laughed, squeezing her hand. "Told you the supernatural isn’t all bad."

Y/N'S POV

Snow crunched beneath our boots as we trudged through the bitter cold of the Icewind Dale. The howling wind gnawed at our resolve, but none of us would abandon our mission. Not when the stakes were so high.

Evelyn led the way, her celestial glow cutting through the storm like a beacon. Diath followed close behind, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for danger. Strix grumbled under her breath, her chaotic magic crackling in the frigid air. And then there was me, a dark elf Bard and newcomer to the Waffle Crew, clinging to my lute and the slim hope that my words could do what swords and spells could not.

We were here to save Paultin.

The Ring of Winter had ensnared him, corrupting his mind and twisting his soul. He was no longer the sarcastic, wine-loving bard we knew. The Paultin we chased across the frozen tundra was a shadow of his former self—dangerous and unpredictable.

When we finally found him, he stood at the edge of a frozen lake, the Ring of Winter glinting on his hand. The air around him shimmered with unnatural cold, and his eyes were distant, detached.

“Paultin,” Evelyn called out, her voice trembling with hope and fear. “Please, let us help you.”

He turned slowly, a bitter smile curling his lips. “Help me? Oh, Evelyn. You don’t understand. I don’t need help. I finally have everything I need.”

Diath stepped forward cautiously. “This isn’t you, Paultin. You’re letting the Ring control you. You’re better than this.”

Paultin laughed—a cold, hollow sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Better? Maybe this is who I’ve always been, Diath. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it.”

We moved closer, but before we could reach him, a wall of ice erupted between us, cutting him off from the rest of the group. “Stay back,” he warned. “I won’t hurt her, but the rest of you… you’re just getting in the way.”

Her. He was talking about me.

The ice beneath me cracked, and before I could react, I plummeted into a freezing abyss. The cold was unlike anything I’d ever felt—sharp, unrelenting, seeping into my very soul. My body became encased in ice, and I could barely move, barely think.

Above me, I heard Paultin’s voice. “You stay there. I don’t want to hurt you. It’s the others that are a bother.”

The ice held me fast, but I could still see him—his face conflicted, torn. He wasn’t completely gone. Not yet.

I don’t know how long I was trapped there, but I sang softly to keep myself from succumbing to despair. My voice wavered, but the melody carried a sliver of hope.

When the ice finally began to crack, I clawed my way free, trembling but resolute. My friends were still fighting, trying to reach Paultin, but they couldn’t break through his defenses.

I didn’t hesitate. I stepped forward, unarmed, vulnerable, and called out to him. “Paultin, it’s okay. I’m not here to fight. I’m here for you.”

He turned to me, the Ring’s power swirling around him like a storm. “Why? Why do you care? You should hate me.”

I dropped my lute and walked closer, ignoring the frostbite creeping up my limbs. “Because I know you, Paultin. The real you. And you’re worth saving.”

Before he could react, I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly despite the cold that burned my skin. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re not alone.”

The storm around him faltered, and the ice began to melt. His breath hitched, and for a moment, I saw the Paultin I knew—the man beneath the Ring’s influence.

The Ring slipped from his finger, shattering as it hit the ground. The ancient evil dissipated, and Paultin collapsed in my arms, tears freezing on his cheeks.

The others rushed to us, their relief palpable. Evelyn healed my frostbitten limbs, Strix muttered something about my recklessness, and Diath gave me a rare, approving nod.

As we made our way back to warmth and safety, Paultin walked beside me, his voice soft. “Thank you. I don’t deserve it, but… thank you.”

I smiled, though my body ached and my soul felt raw. “You’re welcome, Paultin. That’s what friends are for.”

Y/N'S POV

Christmas Eve had always been a time for wishes, but mine this year was simple: I just wanted peace. Not world peace or anything that lofty—just a quiet moment to breathe, to be free of the weight of my job, and maybe, for once, to not feel so alone.

The hospital was unusually calm for a holiday, with only a few patients needing attention. I’d been a nurse here for years, and while I loved being able to help, the emotional toll sometimes felt like too much to bear. Tonight, I was working a double shift. No family to rush home to, no party to attend—just me, the soft hum of fluorescent lights, and the occasional beep of monitors.

As I made my rounds, I noticed a familiar face sitting in the waiting area. His hood was pulled low over his head, but I’d recognize him anywhere—Josh Hutcherson. The Josh Hutcherson. My heart skipped a beat, partly because I’d been a fan since my teenage years and partly because seeing him here, alone, on Christmas Eve, felt... strange.

I approached cautiously, not wanting to startle him. “Excuse me,” I said gently. “Are you alright?”

He looked up, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. His eyes were kind but filled with worry. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s my grandmother. She’s in surgery.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, taking a seat across from him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He hesitated, then smiled faintly. “Not unless you’re a surgeon.”

“Not quite,” I replied, offering a small laugh. “But I’m pretty good at keeping people company.”

We talked for a while, and it turned out he wasn’t as intimidating as I’d feared. He was down-to-earth, funny, and surprisingly open. He told me stories about growing up in Kentucky, about his grandmother’s famous Christmas cookies, and how much she meant to him. In return, I shared stories from my life—my work, my love for helping others, and my own longing for family during the holidays.

Time seemed to blur, and before I knew it, the clock struck midnight. Christmas had officially arrived.

“I almost forgot,” I said, reaching into my pocket. I’d been carrying a small, glittering snowflake ornament all day—a tradition of mine to hand out to someone who needed a little extra holiday cheer. “Merry Christmas, Josh.”

He took the ornament, his fingers brushing mine, and for a moment, his expression softened into something that felt almost intimate. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Before I could respond, a nurse came over to inform him that his grandmother’s surgery had gone well and that she was in recovery. Relief flooded his face, and he stood, clutching the ornament tightly.

“Thank you for sitting with me tonight,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”

I shrugged, suddenly shy under his gaze. “Sometimes, just being there is enough.”

He smiled—a real, radiant smile that warmed me more than any Christmas fireplace ever could. “Well, I guess I owe you one. What’s your Christmas wish?”

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, then answered honestly, “I just want to feel like I’m not alone.”

Josh studied me for a long moment, then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small, wrapped package and pressed it into my hand. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his voice soft.

Before I could protest, he disappeared down the hall, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the unexpected gift.

When I unwrapped it, I found a delicate charm bracelet with a single charm—a tiny, engraved heart. Attached to it was a note: For the healer with the kindest soul. You’re never alone.

My wish had been granted in the most unexpected way, and as I held the bracelet close, I couldn’t help but believe in a little Christmas magic.

Y/N'S POV

I woke up to the faint sound of birds chirping outside the cabin window, the morning sunlight streaming in through the frosted glass. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I pulled the blanket tighter around me, savoring the warmth. Yesterday had been magical—spending Christmas Eve with Martin and Chris Kratt had been like stepping into one of their adventures, filled with laughter, stories, and just a touch of mischief.

I could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, followed by the clatter of pans. A smile crept across my face as I recognized the brothers' playful banter. Chris’s voice rang out, “Martin, I told you, then flip the pancake, not now!”

“And I told you,” Martin shot back, “pancakes are supposed to fly a little. Adds character!”

Sliding out of bed, I threw on a cozy sweater and padded out to the kitchen. The sight that greeted me was a perfect chaos. Martin stood at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping what might have once been a pancake but was now an oddly shaped blob. Chris was at the counter, meticulously arranging fruit and toppings, looking every bit like a chef trying to salvage the situation.

“Merry Christmas!” I called out, and both brothers turned to me with matching grins.

“Morning!” Chris said, gesturing to the table. “Breakfast is almost ready. Don’t mind the mess—Martin’s ‘artistic’ pancakes are just part of the experience.”

Martin rolled his eyes, flipping another pancake that miraculously landed perfectly on the plate. “Hey, these are handcrafted masterpieces!”

I laughed as I took a seat at the table, which was already adorned with a centerpiece of pine branches and candles. The smell of maple syrup, fresh coffee, and pine needles filled the air, and I couldn’t help but feel like this was the coziest Christmas morning I’d ever had.

As we dug into breakfast, the conversation turned to their adventures. Martin told a story about a snowy owl rescue, and Chris shared a memory of tracking wolves through a snow-covered forest. Their passion for wildlife and their sheer joy in recounting these tales was infectious.

After breakfast, we bundled up in layers of coats, scarves, and gloves. Martin handed me a pair of binoculars, while Chris grabbed a field guide. “We’re going to show you how to track animals in the snow,” Chris said, his eyes lighting up.

We spent the morning exploring the forest around the cabin, identifying tracks and spotting birds flitting through the branches. The brothers’ enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself getting excited over every discovery, from a tiny mouse trail to the distant hoot of an owl.

By the time we returned to the cabin, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the snow. We warmed up by the fire with mugs of hot chocolate, and Martin pulled out a guitar, strumming a soft melody. Chris joined in, singing a silly song about wildlife and Christmas that had me laughing until my sides ached.

As the evening wore on, the brothers exchanged gifts—small, thoughtful things like handmade ornaments and sketches of animals they’d seen on their travels. They even handed me a wrapped package, inside of which I found a journal with an embossed cover of a snowy landscape.

“For documenting your own adventures,” Martin said with a wink.

“We figured you might want to write down some memories of today,” Chris added.

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

As the night deepened, we sat together by the fire, the room filled with the soft crackle of logs and the quiet comfort of shared company. Spending Christmas with the Kratt brothers had been an adventure in itself—one filled with nature, laughter, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by people who truly love what they do.

Y/N'S POV

Christmas Eve had always held a magical sort of charm for me, but this year felt different—special. Snowflakes danced lazily through the air as I pulled my coat tighter against the winter chill. My boots crunched over the fresh snow as I approached the cabin nestled at the edge of the woods. Inside, the warm glow of a fire flickered through the frosted windows.

“Hey, Y/N you made it!” Martin’s voice called out as I opened the door, letting in a burst of cold air before quickly shutting it behind me. His grin was as wide and welcoming as ever, his trademark blue sweater almost blending into the cabin’s rustic decor.

“Of course! I wasn’t going to miss this,” I said, stomping the snow off my boots. The smell of pine and hot cocoa greeted me, along with the sound of soft laughter from the other side of the room.

Chris looked up from where he was stringing popcorn garlands near the tree. His green sweater and matching festive hat made him look like he’d just walked out of a Christmas card. “Finally! We were starting to think a snowstorm might’ve gotten you,” he teased, tossing me a bag of marshmallows.

I laughed, catching the bag midair. “Not a chance. You two promised me a ‘wild’ Christmas, and I’m here to see if you can deliver.”

Chris smirked, leaning back to admire his handiwork on the tree. “Oh, don’t you worry. When it comes to us, there’s always a little bit of wild involved.”

I settled onto the couch, watching as Martin returned from the kitchen with three steaming mugs of cocoa. He handed me one, and I wrapped my hands around the warm ceramic, savoring the rich smell of chocolate.

“So,” I began, taking a careful sip, “what’s the plan? We can’t just sit around all night drinking cocoa, can we?”

Martin leaned against the fireplace, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Of course not! Chris and I were thinking of taking you on a nighttime hike. The forest is beautiful under the moonlight this time of year.”

Chris nodded eagerly. “And, we might’ve heard about some wildlife activity nearby. Think of it as a mini Creature Adventure—Christmas edition!”

I raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “You know, only you two would think a midnight hike in the snow is a festive activity.”

“That’s why you love us,” Martin shot back with a playful wink.

After finishing our cocoa, we bundled up in our warmest gear and headed out. The night was crisp, the snow reflecting the moonlight and making the forest shimmer like something out of a dream.

As we trekked through the trees, Martin and Chris pointed out animal tracks in the snow and the occasional distant rustle of wildlife. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself swept up in the wonder of it all.

“Wait,” Chris whispered suddenly, holding up a hand to stop us. We froze, straining to hear what had caught his attention.

In the distance, a low, melodic howl echoed through the trees.

“Wolves,” Martin said softly, his breath visible in the cold air.

My heart skipped a beat. “Are we...safe?” I asked, glancing nervously around the dark forest.

“Completely,” Chris assured me. “They’re just singing their Christmas carols,” he added with a grin, earning a laugh from both Martin and me.

We stood there for a moment, listening to the hauntingly beautiful sound of the wolves’ calls before continuing on. When we returned to the cabin, the fire was still crackling, and a plate of cookies waited for us on the table.

As we sat around the fire, recounting the night’s adventure and laughing over Martin’s less-than-graceful tumble into a snowdrift, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment.

This was Christmas—being surrounded by friends, sharing laughter and wonder, and embracing the magic of the moment.

As the night wore on, Chris leaned back in his chair, staring at the glowing embers in the fireplace. “You know,” he said softly, “Christmas is about celebrating the connections we share—with people, with nature, with everything around us.”

Martin nodded, raising his mug in a mock toast. “To another wild Christmas, and many more to come.”

Y/N'S POV

Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. The twinkling lights, the crisp scent of pine, the warmth of hot cocoa against my hands—it all feels magical. But this year? It’s been... strange. I didn’t think an ordinary Christmas Eve would turn into something out of a storybook.

It started with a simple notification on my phone.

"TheFearRaiser just went live!"

Jordan, better known as TheFearRaiser, had been one of my favorite YouTubers for years. His hilarious commentaries and knack for storytelling always kept me entertained. Watching his streams felt like chatting with an old friend. I clicked on the notification without hesitation.

The screen flickered to life, and there was Jordan, dressed in a ridiculous Santa hat, laughing as he read chat messages. "Alright, guys, so tonight we’re diving into some spooky Christmas stories—because what’s the holiday without a little fright, right?"

The chat buzzed with excitement.

“Hey, Jordan,” I typed in chat, smiling at the ridiculous notion of creepy Christmas tales.

To my surprise, he read my comment out loud. “Hey, Y/N! Glad to have you here!”

That was when it happened.

A loud crack of thunder erupted outside, making me jump. Thunder? In December? I glanced at the window. Snow swirled outside, but something about it felt... off. The flakes didn’t fall naturally—they seemed to hover, spinning in unnatural patterns.

“Whoa,” Jordan said, his laughter dying. “Did anyone else see that?”

I blinked at the screen. “See what?” I typed.

But before I could send it, the screen glitched. Jordan’s face distorted, the colors warping. Then the stream went black.

I frowned, refreshing the page, but my laptop froze. The thunder clapped again, louder this time, and a cold gust of wind blew through the room—even though my window was closed. My lights flickered.

“Okay,” I muttered. “This is getting weird.”

Before I could process what was happening, a bright flash engulfed my vision.

---

When I opened my eyes, the world was... different.

Snow still fell, but the sky wasn’t the soft gray of winter—it was a deep, swirling purple. The trees around me glittered, their branches made of crystal. And in the distance, I heard bells, faint and haunting, as though they came from everywhere and nowhere.

I wasn’t alone.

“Okay, what the heck just happened?”

I spun around to see Jordan standing a few feet away, still wearing his Santa hat but looking just as bewildered as I felt.

“Jordan?” I blurted.

He froze, his eyes narrowing. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

“Uh, your YouTube channel?”

Recognition dawned on his face. “Oh, great. A fan in a weird magical snow globe. Just my luck.”

I wanted to laugh, but the surreal situation kept my nerves on edge. “Where are we?” I asked.

Jordan shrugged, pulling his jacket tighter. “I don’t know, but it’s definitely not home. One minute I’m streaming, the next I’m here.” He paused, squinting at me. “And you’re here, too. What did you do?”

“Me?” I exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything! You’re the one telling spooky Christmas stories!”

Before he could retort, a shadow passed overhead, blocking the faint light of the purple sky. We both looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.

A massive sleigh soared above us, pulled by creatures that definitely weren’t reindeer. They had elongated bodies, glowing red eyes, and wings instead of antlers.

“What... is that?” Jordan whispered.

The sleigh circled around, descending toward us. As it landed, the figure driving it came into view—a tall, gaunt man with hollow cheeks and piercing blue eyes. He wore a tattered coat lined with frost, and his smile sent chills down my spine.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice echoing unnaturally. “To the Winter Realm.”

---

The man, who introduced himself as “The Frost Keeper,” explained that we were caught between two worlds: our own and his. Every so often, the barrier weakened, pulling unsuspecting humans into his domain.

“But why us?” Jordan asked, arms crossed.

The Frost Keeper’s icy smile widened. “Because you are storytellers. You weave tales that cross the boundaries of imagination and reality. And now, you must help me restore balance.”

Apparently, the Winter Realm was crumbling. The Frost Keeper needed “creators” to mend the fractures in his world before it bled into ours, causing chaos on both sides.

“Sounds... easy enough?” I ventured, though I didn’t feel confident.

Jordan groaned. “Let me guess—if we fail, we’re stuck here forever?”

The Frost Keeper said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.

---

What followed was a whirlwind of puzzles, peril, and teamwork I never expected. Jordan’s humor kept the mood light, even when we were being chased by ice wolves or solving riddles to unlock enchanted gates.

At one point, as we stood on a frozen lake that shimmered like glass, he looked at me and said, “You know, this would make a great video.”

I laughed. “Yeah, if we survive to tell the story.”

“Don’t jinx it,” he muttered.

By the time we reached the heart of the Winter Realm—a massive crystal tree that pulsed with an otherworldly glow—we were exhausted but determined. Together, we restored the balance, weaving our own memories and creativity into the fabric of the realm.

---

When I woke up on Christmas morning, it felt like a dream. My room was exactly as I’d left it, the snow outside falling normally. But my laptop was open, and Jordan’s stream was playing.

He was sitting at his desk, looking unusually serious.

“So, uh, last night’s stream was weird,” he said. “If you were there, you know what I mean. And if you weren’t... well, let’s just say I’ve got one heck of a Christmas story to tell.”

Our eyes met through the screen, and for a split second, I swore he winked.

Y/N'S POV

Christmas in the Pokémon world was unlike anything I had ever imagined. Sure, I'd played the games and watched the shows, but nothing compared to standing in the snowy streets of Snowbelle City, surrounded by the real thing. The glow of festive lights wrapped around lampposts, the sweet scent of poffins and berry pies wafting from nearby stalls, and the soft sound of snow crunching under my boots made it feel like I’d walked into a dream.

“Hey, try to keep up!” Nate called, his voice carrying through the chilly air. He was ahead of me, balancing two cups of steaming hot cocoa in one hand and a pokéball in the other. His Sylveon trotted beside him, ribbons fluttering like tinsel in the wind.

“I’m coming!” I laughed, jogging to catch up. I adjusted my scarf—it was red and white with a cute little Pikachu design—and smiled as his Charizard landed nearby, shaking snow off its wings.

Nate handed me a cup. “You’re gonna love this. It’s Oran Berry cocoa. Apparently, it’s a Snowbelle specialty.”

I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me instantly. The sweetness of the cocoa mixed with the tartness of the Oran Berry was incredible. “Okay, I’ll admit, that’s amazing. How’d you even find this place?”

He smirked. “What can I say? I’ve got connections. Plus, Pikachu insisted we do something special this year.”

As if on cue, his Pikachu popped out of its pokéball, a tiny Santa hat perched crookedly on its head. It squeaked happily and immediately started making snow angels.

We wandered through the marketplace, marveling at the decorations. A group of Jigglypuff sang carols near a glowing Christmas tree while a Machoke and a Chansey handed out gifts to excited children. It was heartwarming to see how Pokémon and humans celebrated together.

Later, we joined a sledding race hosted by a group of Abomasnow. Nate, of course, decided to go full speed down the hill on his Charizard, nearly taking me out in the process. I opted for a more cautious approach, riding a Mamoswine that seemed as determined to win as I was to survive.

By the time the sun set, the town square was alight with lanterns. Pokémon danced around the massive tree while trainers swapped stories. I leaned against a bench, exhausted but happy, when Nate plopped down beside me.

“This is what Christmas should always feel like,” he said, looking up at the sky. The stars twinkled, and somewhere in the distance, I swore I heard the cry of an Articuno.

I nodded. “Magical. I’m glad we did this.”

Nate grinned, holding out his cup for a toast. “To Christmas in the Pokémon world—and maybe not getting crushed by a Snorlax next year.”

I laughed, clinking my cup against his. “Cheers to that.”

As Pikachu hopped onto my lap, curling up with a contented sigh, I realized this was a Christmas I’d never forget.

Y/N'S POV

Christmas break was supposed to be uneventful. It was a time to recharge, eat too many cookies, and watch cheesy holiday movies with no shame. But when Hunter texted me, “Want to go explore the trails? Got a weird tip from a fan,” my curiosity overrode my urge to stay bundled up inside.

That’s how I ended up trudging through snow-covered woods with my best friend, Hunter—better known as Dookieshed on YouTube—talking about games and laughing like usual.

"You sure this isn't just another one of those ‘spooky trail’ pranks?" I asked, squinting at the low winter sun filtering through the branches.

Hunter smirked. “Hey, if it is, at least we’ll get a cool video out of it. I can already see the title: ‘You Won’t Believe What We Found in the Woods!’”

I rolled my eyes but laughed. Typical Hunter. He always had an angle.

The trail was quiet except for the crunch of our boots in the snow. The deeper we walked, the more the forest seemed to change. The light wasn’t just brighter—it was… colorful. At first, I thought it was a trick of the sun on ice-crusted branches, but no. The snow itself shimmered in faint hues of blue, pink, and green.

"Are you seeing this?" I whispered, feeling like my voice might disturb the strange beauty around us.

“Yeah,” Hunter said, his voice lower than usual. “This isn’t normal.”

The trees ahead looked like something out of a fantasy game. Their bark gleamed silver, and their leaves—yes, leaves, not needles—glowed faintly, even though it was the dead of winter. Snowflakes fell in slow motion, sparkling with unnatural colors.

“This is insane,” he said, whipping out his phone to record. “It’s like the forest leveled up!”

We wandered deeper, both of us captivated by the kaleidoscope of colors. It was like stepping into a dream—beautiful, but unnerving in a way I couldn’t explain. The air felt lighter, almost electric, and my breath didn’t cloud in front of me anymore.

“Do you think it’s some kind of—” I stopped mid-sentence when we stepped into a clearing.

At the center was a massive tree, taller and wider than any I’d ever seen. Its trunk shimmered with swirling patterns, and its branches arched overhead like a cathedral.

“Whoa,” Hunter breathed, for once at a loss for words.

Drawn by an invisible force, we moved closer. A low hum filled the air, almost like music, and the colors around us pulsed in rhythm. My heart raced, but not from fear. It felt like the forest itself was alive, watching us.

“Do you feel that?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “Like… like it’s trying to tell us something.”

Hunter reached out, hesitating for a moment before touching the tree’s bark. The patterns flared brighter, and the hum grew louder. I took a step back, but he turned to me, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“This is incredible,” he said. “It’s like something out of a video game. We have to come back with better gear—”

Before he could finish, the colors shifted again, and a wave of warmth washed over us. It wasn’t threatening—it felt… comforting. Like the forest wanted us to stay.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to leave,” I said, half-joking.

Hunter laughed, but it was nervous. “Yeah, well, I like the vibe, but I also like having cell service.” He pulled out his phone, only to groan. “Figures. No signal.”

We stayed in the clearing for what felt like hours, marveling at the impossible beauty around us. Eventually, the colors began to dim, the hum fading to a gentle whisper. It felt like the forest was saying goodbye.

As we retraced our steps, the snow and trees gradually returned to normal. By the time we reached the car, it was like the colorful winter forest had never existed.

“You think anyone’s going to believe us?” I asked, turning to Hunter.

He grinned. “Who cares? We know it happened. And besides, I got it all on—” He checked his phone and froze. “No way. The video’s gone.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Of course it is.”

As we drove away, I couldn’t help but glance back at the woods, half-expecting to see a flash of color. Maybe it was a Christmas miracle, or maybe the forest had just chosen us for a moment. Either way, I knew I’d never forget it.

Y/N'S POV

It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out, quick and clean. But nothing ever goes as planned, does it?

I had been on the run for days, hiding in the shadows, desperate to escape the people after me. The cold air bit at my skin as I darted down narrow alleyways, my heart pounding with fear. My mind kept repeating the same mantra: stay hidden, stay quiet. But it was getting harder to do both. The men who hunted me weren’t stupid, and no matter how many tricks I pulled, they were always one step ahead.

I was cornered in an old, run-down building when I heard the sound of footsteps. My pulse raced as I crouched low behind a stack of crates, praying I wouldn't be seen. But the footsteps stopped. A cold, calculated voice spoke from the darkness.

“You lost, sweetheart?”

I froze, not daring to breathe. There was something in the air, something off about this person. The voice didn’t belong to anyone I knew, but somehow, I felt like I should know it.

Before I could think to move, the sound of gunfire echoed in the space. The men chasing me dropped like flies, and I could barely register what was happening. Then, the figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a fluidity that screamed lethal. He didn’t look like a hero or a villain; just a man in a tactical suit, his face hidden behind a mask.

His eyes, though... I could see them through the slits of his mask. They were cold, but there was something else there too—something I couldn’t quite place. Before I could speak, he reached out a gloved hand to me.

“Are you okay?”

I stared at his hand for a moment, then looked into his eyes, my breath caught in my chest. Despite the chill, despite the chaos around us, I felt safe for the first time in days. I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet with ease, guiding me out of the building.

Without a word, we moved through the streets, quickly and quietly. There was no small talk, no attempt to reassure me. Just a silent urgency as we moved, weaving in and out of alleyways and hidden paths until we reached what I could only describe as a hidden sanctuary.

The moment we stepped inside, he removed his mask, and I could finally see his face—Bucky Barnes. The name echoed in my mind, and the puzzle pieces started to fall into place. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. Steve Rogers’ friend.

But even with the name, I couldn’t place him. Not the way Steve described him—someone who was loyal, strong, and above all, human, despite everything that had been done to him. This man, with his eyes full of secrets, seemed like the complete opposite of that.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” Bucky’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I shook my head. “No… Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that answer. “Alright, you can stay here. For now. But we have to keep quiet. I don’t know who’s after you, but I know they’ll be looking for you.”

I agreed without hesitation, knowing I had no other choice. Over the next few days, Bucky and I settled into an uneasy routine. I was mostly quiet, trying to stay out of his way. I knew the stories about him—the Winter Soldier, the man who had done terrible things under Hydra's control. Yet, here he was, offering me safety, a place to hide.

And then, Christmas Eve came.

The house was small but cozy, decorated with simple lights and a tree in the corner. It wasn’t grand, but there was something warm about it. I’d never really celebrated Christmas before, but being here, with Bucky, felt different. He hadn’t said much about himself, but every now and then, I caught him looking out the window with a faraway look, as if lost in thought.

That night, as the snow gently fell outside, I was sitting by the fire, Bucky a few feet away, sipping from a mug.

"Can I... can I take off your mask?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a sigh, he set his mug down on the coffee table and reached up, slowly peeling the mask away from his face.

I blinked in surprise. Bucky Barnes... or at least, the man I thought was Bucky Barnes… wasn’t the face I saw before me. I gasped.

“You’re...” My voice trailed off as I stared at him, recognition dawning.

He offered a small, almost rueful smile. “Yeah. Steve probably told you about me.”

I nodded, still in shock. “He always spoke highly of you. Always said you were a good man, even when you didn’t think so.”

Bucky’s eyes softened, and he looked away for a moment, a silent sadness settling over him. “I’m still trying to be that man. But it's not always easy.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just sat there, absorbing the weight of everything.

"Christmas is a time for second chances," I finally said, my voice quiet but firm. "Maybe you can start again."

Bucky looked at me, and for the first time since I'd met him, he looked... hopeful. The Winter Soldier wasn’t just a soldier anymore. And maybe, neither was I.

We spent the rest of the evening quietly, just the two of us. As the clock struck midnight, we exchanged the smallest of smiles. It wasn’t a perfect Christmas. But it was a new beginning.

Y/N'S POV

The snow had begun to fall gently as I stood on the outskirts of the Waffle Crew's latest campsite, my eyes glimmering with curiosity. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from this group, especially with Paultin Seppa—a fellow Bard—within our ranks. We weren’t exactly friends, but we were civil. His charming smile always seemed to hide something beneath it, something I couldn’t quite place. Still, we had a mission, and that was enough to keep us focused.

Diath Woodrow, the leader of this ragtag crew, adjusted his cloak and motioned for everyone to gather. Strix, our sorcerer and resident worrywart, was pacing, muttering about the dangers ahead. Evelyn, on the other hand, had her bright, almost childlike smile as she gazed out at the snowy landscape, humming a tune I couldn’t place. I glanced at Paultin, who was, as usual, nursing a flask. I could almost feel the weight of his silence—an unspoken history that I knew better than to ask about.

“You all ready?” Diath’s voice broke my thoughts as he looked at each of us with that protective gaze. I could feel his concern for the group, even if he never showed it outright. He had a way of making everyone feel safe, even in the most dangerous of situations.

“I’ll be fine,” Strix grumbled, adjusting her robes and glancing nervously at the path ahead. “But this is going to be a nightmare if we’re not careful. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“You always have a bad feeling about everything,” Evelyn chimed in with her usual brightness, stepping forward, oblivious to Strix’s concerns. “But it’ll be fine! We’ll find the melody and have a wonderful time. I just know it.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her infectious optimism. If there was one thing Evelyn was good at, it was brightening up even the darkest of moments. She had a way of holding onto hope, even when things seemed impossible.

“Alright,” Diath said, his tone serious but still warm. “We’re looking for the Long-Lost Holiday Melody. The rumors say it’s a song so powerful, it can bring about peace during even the most troubled times.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal my skepticism. “A melody, you say?”

Paultin chuckled softly beside me, his voice low and gravelly. “Don’t knock it until you’ve heard it, sweetheart. There’s magic in music, you know.”

I shot him a sideways glance. His easygoing demeanor always seemed to be at odds with his brooding nature. “I’m sure it’s magical. But I’m not sure I believe in fairy tales.”

“I think it’s more than a fairy tale,” Diath interjected, his gaze steady as he studied the path ahead. “I believe it’s something worth finding, for all our sakes. Let’s move out.”

As we traveled, the cold air bit at my skin, but the warmth of the group’s camaraderie kept me going. Paultin fell into step beside me, his presence as silent as ever. Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of him peering through the snowflakes, his eyes thoughtful. He didn’t say much, but I knew better than to think that meant nothing was going on in that head of his.

We trudged through snowdrifts and across frozen rivers, Evelyn singing songs of hope and light, Strix muttering incantations under her breath, and Diath leading us with an unwavering determination. The journey was long, but there was something comforting about the way we all fit together, each of us playing our part, however imperfectly.

Finally, we reached the ancient ruins where the melody was said to be hidden. The place was eerie, a dark reminder of times long past, its walls covered in frost. But beneath that cold exterior, I could feel a strange energy, like the heartbeat of something forgotten but powerful.

“It’s here,” Diath said softly, scanning the surroundings. “We just have to find the key.”

Paultin stepped forward, his fingers brushing over the icy stone. “The key, huh?” he mused, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’ve heard this song before…”

My heart skipped a beat at his words. He’s heard it?

Before I could question him, Evelyn stepped into the center of the ruins, her bright smile unfazed by the surroundings. She closed her eyes and raised her arms, as if she were about to dance with the winds themselves.

And then, it happened.

A soft, haunting melody filled the air, as if the very ruins were breathing life back into the world. The snowflakes danced in time with the music, and for a moment, everything felt right. Even Strix’s nervous energy seemed to calm, her eyes wide with awe. Diath looked at each of us, his expression softening.

“This is it,” he murmured.

Paultin turned to me, his eyes glinting with something I hadn’t seen before—hope, maybe? For once, I couldn’t look away. “Guess you were right. There’s magic in music after all.”

I smiled, feeling the weight of the moment settle on my chest. The Long-Lost Holiday Melody had been found, and with it, the peace we all so desperately needed.

For the first time since joining this strange crew, I felt like I belonged. Not just as a bard, but as part of something greater than myself.

And maybe, just maybe, Paultin and I weren’t so different after all.