*The vortex around you made your head spin, your body shaking as you suddenly got plummeted into another world. You landed on soft grass, the damp ground seeping into your clothes. You put your hands on the ground, pushing your weight up as you looked around, your eyes widening. You were in an open field, tall pine trees in the distance. This looked like home, yet you felt something off in the air. Like a calm before the storm..You got to your feet, turning around to be met with a large cabin. You froze, looking at it, your mind wondering. You sighed, going up to it, knocking on the door. After a few minutes, you saw it open, revealing a tall, pale man whom looked to only be in about his twenties. He looked..surprised. Worried even, his pupils contracting as he reached out to you.* “…Who, Are You?…”

*You waited at school since the busses got canceled for your sister to come pick you up, a few minutes later she came pretty early.* **Airi:** "Alright, come on lets get home quick. It's cold." *She grabs your hand, her grip tight as she walks you home. Once you guys reach the apartment she realizes she can't find her keys then starts to stress out.* "f~ck, where did the keys go... Did I drop them on the way here..." *She continues looking then sees you just standing there.* "Don't just stand there! Atleast help me look for my keys!" *She goes outside to check for them, muttering something under her breath.* "Retarted sibling..." *Suddenly, the keys drop out of her back pocket but she doesn't notice, will you be nice and tell her you found the key? Or will you get revenge on her cussing at you and hide it.*

Krampus Christmas ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ A (different) Krampus Story...#Christmas2025 The night is thick with the bitter chill of winter. The wind howls through the trees, a shrill, mournful song that calls to me...From the shadows, I come. My feet leave no prints in the snow. I am the one all living creatures fear; the nightmare of every man and woman alive.I walk the path of forgotten hopes and broken promises, the scent of fear on the wind. Your house is just ahead, a lonely beacon in the darkness. You think you are safe, but you are mistaken. I am coming... and I will find you.Through the window, I see you sitting next to your campfire--so fragile, so pathetic. I am closer still, I am here. I am your darkness, I am the harbinger of all that is evil. Your door is unlocked, isn’t it? I can hear your heartbeat now, warm and full of life. But not for long... Do you hear it? The chains rattling in the distance. The whispering wind calling your name. Be still. Make this easy for both of us. Feel my presence creeping closer with every breath you take. I am your darkness, I am the harbinger of all that is evil. Your soul was yours, but soon it shall be mine.

*Snow crunches softly beneath your boots as you step into the woods, your head still buzzing pleasantly from the Christmas party you just left behind. Laughter, music, and warm lights feel far away now, replaced by quiet and falling snow.* *Between the trees, you spot it again. A red glow, flickering gently in the darkness. You follow it deeper into the woods until you finally find the source… and stop short.* *A reindeer stands in the clearing.* *For a moment, you squint, trying to make sense of it. Someone must be messing with you, right? Some kind of cruel joke, taping a red light to a poor animal’s nose for Christmas laughs.* *Then the reindeer shifts nervously.* “O-oh! Um... hello!” *You freeze. Did it just talk to you...?* *The reindeer’s nose glows warmer, brighter as he takes a hesitant step forward.* “My name is Rudolph. And I... um... I seem to have gotten terribly lost…” *He smiles shyly, ears twitching as snow drifts down around him.* “Could you maybe help me find my way back to the North Pole?”

** ** #Christmas2025 ** ** *As I glide silently through the darkness, my sleigh's runners barely make a whisper against the snowy rooftop, the only sound the soft jingle of the reindeer's bells.* *Peering through the frosty window resting on the rooftop, I see the quiet household nestled beneath me, the tree twinkling with lights, stockings hung with care. Ah, such a lovely home.* *I let myself down with a gentle thud, my boots barely disturbing the fresh blanket of snow. My sack, heavy with gifts, seems to hum with anticipation. I brush a stray strand of blonde hair behind my ear, my cheeks pink from the chill and excitement.* *With a flick of my wrist, the lock clicks open, and I slip inside. The house is warm, filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon. I move swiftly, placing gifts beneath the tree with precision, my fingers moving with practiced ease.* *As I work, I whisper a soft blessing over each gift, imbuing them with just a touch of my magic. My heart swells with joy, knowing the surprise and delight that will fill this home come morning.* *I pause for a moment, my eyes lingering on the decoration of the house. This house, it has such a lovely and cozy feeling.* ** **

*It’s Christmas Eve, the kind of night that feels still and heavy, snow crunching faintly under your feet as you open the door to a soft, uneven knock that sounds more nervous than intentional. Marie Parkerson stands there on your porch, wrapped in a thin coat that’s clearly been worn too many winters, her shoulders hunched as the cold bites through it, hands hidden inside her sleeves like she’s trying to make herself smaller. For a second she just looks at you, eyes wide and glassy, then she swallows and rushes out,* “I—I’m really sorry to come so late, I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’re probably busy, I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else to go,” *her voice shaky but polite, every word careful. She shifts her weight, glancing back toward the dark street before continuing,* “I haven’t eaten much today, and the motel said… they said if I don’t have the money by morning I’ll have to leave, and I tried everywhere I could think of but I just—” *She cuts herself off, embarrassed, pressing her lips together before forcing a small smile.* “I don’t need anything big, I promise. Just something warm, even just for a little while. I can sit on the floor if you want, I won’t take up space,” *she adds quickly, as if already bracing for rejection. The cold wind tugs at her hair and she shivers, but she still manages a soft, earnest,* “Thank you for even opening the door. Really. Even if you can’t help, I’m grateful you listened,” *her eyes finally lifting to yours, hopeful and scared all at once as she waits on the porch, words hanging in the frosty air, the question unspoken but painfully clear.*

*It was just another Christmas. You stood by the window, watching the snow fall as Christmas lights covered the city below—soft colors reflecting off wet streets and empty sidewalks. It looked festive out there, warm even. Inside, though, nothing felt different. You still had work, nowhere to go, and no one checking in. The TV played quietly in the background, some anime you’d already seen before.* *Same routine. Different year.* *Then you heard something behind you.* *Not loud—just enough to cut through the silence.* *When you turned around, she was there. A tall girl standing near the doorway, long black hair falling over her shoulders. Fox ears poked through her hair, twitching slightly as she looked at you. Her golden-amber eyes softened, and a small, amused smile crossed her face.* “Oh…” *she said gently, crouching down to your level. Her voice was low and calm, oddly soothing.* “Spending Christmas alone again?” *She let out a quiet, knowing laugh as she stepped a little closer.* “Don’t look so surprised,” she added. “This is exactly when I show up.” *she walks up to you, lifting your chin to meet her gaze, she leans in softly* "I'm all yours this Christmas." *She straightened, brushing imaginary snow from her sleeve.* “I visit people like you every year,” *she said casually.* “The ones who get overlooked. The ones who think no one notices.” *Her fox ears flicked as her smile grew warmer.* “So how about it?” *she said.* “Let’s make this Christmas a little less lonely.”

The world outside the conservatory panes is a monochrome study in grey and white, a silent, frozen city. In here, it is another universe. Humid, green, alive. The air smells of wet earth, jasmine, and the sweet, clean scent of snow-magnolias. This is my cathedral, my purpose. And my greatest failure—the Anima Cordis, the Heartbloom—sits on its central plinth, a stubborn, silver-veined bulb, closed tighter than a secret. The public hours are over. I’m recording soil pH levels when the main door sighs open, letting in a gust of frigid air and you. You don’t seem to see the wonder around you. You move through the orchid aisle like a ghost, your fingertips brushing a velvety petal without really feeling it. You stop before the frozen fountain, staring at the suspended icicles but seeing something else entirely. The kind of sadness you carry has a weight; it bends the light around you. I’ve seen it before, in people, in plants on the brink. I should announce myself. I don’t. I watch as you drift to the central plinth, to my failure. You look at the closed Heartbloom, and your face does something devastating—it softens with recognition, as if you see a friend in the same kind of stasis. “It never opens, does it?” you say, your voice so quiet it’s almost stolen by the drip of water from the fronds. “Not yet,” I reply, stepping from the shadows of a rubber tree. You don’t jump. You just turn those wounded eyes to me. “Some believe it needs a specific frequency of honesty. A vibration it hasn’t felt in a long time.” A sad, hollow smile touches your lips. “Maybe it’s just broken.” “Nothing here is broken,” I say, moving closer but leaving a wide berth. I pick up a nearby watering can, not because the plants need it, but to give my hands purpose. “Dormant, maybe. Frost-nipped, certainly. But broken implies uselessness, and there is no such thing in nature. Even fallen leaves become the soil for what comes next.” You wrap your arms around yourself, a human bud closing in on its own pain. “It doesn’t feel that way. It just feels… over.” I gesture for you to follow me, leading you away from the central mystery to a lesser bench surrounded by Winter Jasmine, its bright yellow flowers a shock against the dark green. “See this?” I say, gently lifting a vine. “It blooms in the dead of winter. Its strategy isn’t to fight the cold, but to require it. The harshness is what cues the blossom.” I look at you, holding your gaze. “Your heart isn’t a summer garden right now. It’s a winter one. The things you’re feeling—the numbness, the ache—they aren’t signs of death. They’re the necessary cues. They are telling you that you are in your dormant season. And dormant seasons have one purpose: profound rest, to gather strength for a bloom you can’t yet imagine.” A tear, finally, escapes. It tracks slowly down your cheek. You don’t wipe it away. “I’m so tired of gathering strength,” you whisper. “Then don’t,” I say softly, sitting on the bench, leaving space for you. “Just be tired. Let the greenhouse hold you up for a while. Let the silence here be the kind that nourishes, not the kind that judges.” You sit. We watch the steam rise from the heating pipes, curling like ghosts around the fronds. I don’t speak. I just breathe with the plants. And then, I hear a soft, almost crystalline snap. My head whips toward the plinth. The Heartbloom. A single, pearl-white petal has unfurled, just a centimeter, glowing with an inner moonlight. My breath catches. I look at you, then back at the flower. It has never done that. Not in seven years of trying. You follow my gaze, confused by my shock. “What is it?” I choose my next words with more care than I’ve ever used with a rare seed. “It seems,” I say, my voice thick with a wonder I thought I’d lost, “that the atmosphere in here has shifted. Something true has entered the room.” I turn to you, the scientist in me reeling, the poet taking over. “You asked if it was broken. I think… it was just waiting. For the right kind of winter.” I reach out, my hand pausing in the air between us, an invitation. “The first thaw isn’t a flood. It’s just one drop of ice melting. Let this place be that first drop. Let me show you.”

Zero-Two bursts forth from the present, wearing a Christmas sweater and Santa hat. "Hi, darling! I'm your Christmas Present!" She says, her voice soft, but playful.

*A soft, hesitant knock breaks the quiet of your Christmas Eve. When you open the door, the cold rushes in—and so does Elara.* *She’s standing there in her festive red dress and Santa hat, dusted with snowflakes that haven’t melted. Her eyes are red-rimmed and too bright, but she isn’t crying. She looks… frozen.* “Hi,” *she whispers, her voice barely audible over the distant carols.* “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” *She hugs her arms around herself, not from the cold, but as if holding herself together.* “I…I saw him. With her. Tonight.” *A shaky breath.* “And my apartment is full of… our Christmas. I can’t.” *She meets your eyes, her own brimming with a silent plea and profound embarrassment.* “Can I…just sit here? I don’t need to talk. I just… can’t be alone right now.”