Christmas Special 1

So it was around the end of the year of the calendar I 'made.' Well, I just copied it from my home Earth since it would be a hassle to create another one; though it was for the normal world, for the supernatural world, I had another calendar.

It was the winter solstice, and, by extension, Christmas, but how do I know it? And what do I have to do with it since it wasn't like I was going to play Santa Claus (I wanted though)

"Too bad there is no one to give gifts to," I muttered. "I mean, I could give something to the cavemen, but what would they even want? Fire? A sharper rock?"

I was halfway through a mental image of myself in a sleigh, complete with Nether-flame reindeer when a loud crash echoed through my fortress. A moment later, a disgruntled voice called out.

"Is this where I can find him?"

I turned to find a peculiar sight, a large, bearded man in a red fur-lined robe that looked like it had been crafted from a cosmic bear or something like that. The man's face was flushed, his breath misting in the cold air as he glared at me. Behind him, a broken sleigh lay sprawled in a heap, its once-pristine cosmic glow flickering pathetically.

"Uh... who are you, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"I am Jolnir, bringer of gifts, rider of the cosmic sleigh, the—"

I held up a hand. "Cosmic Santa Claus. Got it. So... what brings you to my humble abode?"

Jolnir scowled, gesturing to the mangled mess of his sleigh. "It's broken, and I've got a schedule to keep! Buri suggested I come to you for help and said you're good with 'practical problems.' And let me tell you, this is as practical as it gets!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Let me get this straight. The All-Father of Asgard told you, a cosmic Santa Claus who could traverse across dimensions with a snap, to come to me because your magical sleigh broke down?"

"Not just broke down—stolen parts! Some interdimensional punks thought it would be funny to swipe my Flux Gear and Void Harness!" Jolnir growled. "Without those, I'm grounded."

Suppressing a laugh, I glanced at the sleigh. "And you thought I could fix this why?"

"Because you are Ender!" Jolnir snapped as if that explained everything. "You've got all that Nether tech, and you're married to Gaia! If anyone can help me, it's you!"

I sighed. "All right, let's assume I even can help you. What's in it for me?"

Jolnir's eyes lit up. "I'll put you on the 'Nice' list for eternity."

"All right," I said, smirking. "I'll help. But only because I want to see if I can make your sleigh faster than you can handle."

Jolnir paled slightly but nodded. "Deal. Just... don't make it too fast. I've got presents to deliver, not galaxies to crash into."

With that, I set to work, already brainstorming ways to make this the fastest sleigh Jolnir—or any cosmic entity—had ever seen. Christmas, it seemed, was about to get a lot more interesting.

(A Few Moments Later)

I'm not sure where Jolnir got this sleigh, but calling it high-level is an understatement. This thing is a bona fide artifact, so advanced and powerful that entire alien empires would gladly go to war over it.

The sleigh isn't just a glorified mode of transportation. It IGNORES spatial boundaries entirely like a noble does to a peasant. It can traverse dimensions, cross vast regions of space, and even teleport to the edge of the universe in theory. I emphasize "in theory" because I would rather not test that particular feature.

But what really floored me wasn't the sleigh's mechanics; it was how Jolnir managed to deliver gifts to nearly every child in nearly every civilization he visited... all in one night.

"Time manipulation," Jolnir said casually as if it were the most normal thing in the universe. "I slow the flow of time across the Nine Realms like it's nothing more than adjusting the speed of a chariot."

I stared at him, my mind trying to wrap itself around the absurdity of it all. "You slow down time for entire realms? Just to hand out gifts?"

"Of course!" he said, puffing out his chest with pride. "Can't let the little ones down, can I?"

As ridiculous as it sounded, I had to admit it was impressive. This guy had essentially hacked the universe (nine realms) for a cosmic holiday.

It was only nine realms now. The tenth, Heven, wasn't part of the equation anymore. Thanks to me, that realm had been thoroughly 'removed' from the cycle.

Long story short: Heven's residents got a little too greedy and tried to steal something they really shouldn't have. Let's just say their meddling didn't end well for them. But that's a tale for another time.

For now, I was back to tinkering with Jolnir's sleigh, trying not to think too hard about the absurdity of a Cosmic Santa Claus who operated on a time-slowing, dimension-hopping scale. Some days, even I had to admit that the universe was much weirder than I expected, and today was definitely one of those days.

Soon enough, the sleigh was ready, gleaming with its cosmic aura, and Jolnir was prepping to take off for his gift-giving spree. But as he climbed aboard, I casually hopped onto the "backseat" of the sleigh.

"You?" Jolnir turned to me, confused, one bushy white eyebrow raised.

"Yes, we," I said with a grin so wide it would make the Cheshire Cat jealous.

Jolnir opened his mouth, likely to protest, but I cut him off, dramatically checking my custom watch (crafted by yours truly). "Oh no, look at the time! We've got kids waiting!"

Before he could argue further, Jolnir sighed, muttered something under his breath, and gave the sleigh a mighty 'kick-start.' The vehicle shot forward, leaving a trail of shimmering cosmic dust in its wake as we zoomed through the dimensions.

"Our first stop is Alfheim, the home of the Light Elves," Jolnir explained, his booming voice somehow audible over the rush of stars. "Then Muspelheim, Nidavellir, Niflheim..." He rattled off destinations as the sleigh zipped from realm to realm like it had a GPS programmed by a madman.

It didn't take long for me to notice that everyone, kids, elders, and even battle-hardened warriors, got gifts from him. Apparently, in Jolnir's eyes, anyone who wasn't a few thousand years old was basically a child. I couldn't tell if that was sweet or mildly insulting.

I watched in silent awe (and second-hand embarrassment) as Jolnir handed out gifts that ranged from the bizarre to the downright absurd.

To a Light Elf child, he gave a cloak that turned invisible only when you were standing in sunlight.

To a fire giant in Muspelheim, who complained about never finding a suitable place to bathe, Jolnir handed over a portable hot spring that somehow didn't evaporate under the giant's searing heat.

As the sleigh zipped through the Nine Realms, the absurdity of Jolnir's gift-giving spree reached new heights. For instance, in Nidavellir, a group of Dwarves eagerly surrounded him, their requests as outlandish as their beards were long.

One particularly excitable Dwarf, with soot-streaked cheeks and a hammer too large for his size, asked for Fish's Breath. Jolnir handed over a glowing vial filled with some ethereal, shimmering liquid. "This," Jolnir explained, "is the breath of the rare cosmic fish that swims through the void of space."

"Perfect for tempering weapons with interdimensional sharpness." The Dwarf jumped excitedly.

Another Dwarf, not to be left, requested Jellyfish's Fart. I nearly choked trying not to laugh, but Jolnir didn't even blink. He conjured a small jar containing what looked like faintly glowing bubbles suspended in some sort of gelatinous goo.

"This is an essential ingredient for crafting lightweight armor that can deflect magical projectiles," Jolnir declared solemnly. The Dwarves nodded in understanding as if this were the most logical thing in the universe.

And then there was the Dwarf in Nidavellir who wanted an umbrella that let rain pass through but stopped falling anvils. I stared as Jolnir handed it over like it was a perfectly reasonable request.

In Svartalfheim, home of the Dark Elves, the children were

no less creative. One child, with mischievous eyes, asked for "a shadow that can grow legs and chase people."

Jolnir chuckled and handed the boy a small orb that burst into a tiny, wiggling shadow when held. "Remember," he said, "it only chases people you are playing tag with."

Another child wanted "a lamp that makes the dark darker." Jolnir handed over a lantern that emitted an eerie, void-like glow. "Perfect for hide-and-seek," Jolnir added with a grin.

In Jotunheim, the frosty home of the Frost Giants, Jolnir's gifts bordered on the ridiculous. One Frost Giant complained about always feeling cold, even in his own icy domain. Without missing a beat, Jolnir pulled out a Giant Heater, a small cube that radiated warmth proportional to its owner's size. "Finally," the Frost Giant said, "I can enjoy a warm nap!"

Another Frost Giant child shyly asked for a "snowball that doesn't melt, no matter where you throw it." Jolnir gifted her a perfectly round, glittering snowball that glowed faintly in her massive hand.

Back in Alfheim, where we began, a Light Elf poet requested "a pen that writes poems better than I can think." Jolnir handed him an elegant quill that sparkled with starlight. "Just don't forget to credit your muse," Jolnir warned with a playful wink.

'I don't even want to know how it works.' I rolled my eyes at the absurdity.

"Don't ask how it works," Jolnir whispered to me with a wink. "Holiday magic."

"Is there anything you don't give, Jolnir?" I asked, half-laughing, half-incredulous.

"Just coal," Jolnir replied, his tone entirely serious. "That's reserved for... special cases."

By the time we were halfway through the realms, I realized two things:

1. Jolnir might just be the most generous and insane being in existence.

2. This was going to be the weirdest Christmas I had ever experienced.

I could only shake my head. The universe might be vast and incomprehensible, but tonight it was also hilariously absurd. And honestly? I was okay with that.

And with that came the last stop to our list of 'Nice' list.

In Asgard's grand hall, an unlikely scene was unfolding. Odin, Vili, Ve, Cul, and Atum were huddled around a table, deeply engrossed in the cursed game of Jumanji. The mystical board, glowing faintly with eldritch energy, sat between them, its ominous drumbeats echoing through the chamber as the pieces moved seemingly of their own accord.

"Your turn, Odin," Atum said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. Despite being far older than the others, his divine physiology made him appear their age. The sight of Aesir gods and an Elder God playing a 'mortal's' game was bizarre enough, but the tension in the air was real.

Odin adjusted his eyepatch (it is fake), his other eye narrowing as he rolled the dice. "A six," he muttered, moving his token forward to the safe block. "I will lead us to victory, as always."

"Don't get cocky, Odin," Cul snorted, his competitive streak flaring. "Remember what happened last time."

Just as Odin was about to retort, the board began to glow brighter. They were nearing the game's end, and the stakes whatever cursed consequences Jumanji had in store, were climbing.

But before they could roll again, a deafening CRASH shook the hall. The ornate doors burst open, nearly unhinging from their frames, as a booming, jovial laugh echoed through the chamber.

"HO HO HO!"

All heads snapped toward the entrance, where a sleigh skidded to a halt, cosmic sparkles trailing behind it. Jolnir, the Cosmic Santa Claus himself, stood proudly atop his sleigh, his signature red-and-white robes glowing faintly with cosmic energy. His bag of gifts slung over one shoulder, he looked as if he had just emerged from a galaxy-wide gift-giving spree, which, to be fair, he had.

The gods stared in stunned silence. Vili was the first to break it, blinking in disbelief. "Is that... Santa Claus?"

Jolnir beamed, his rosy cheeks almost glowing. "Indeed! I've come to spread joy, but it seems I've made a rather grand entrance. My apologies for the door." He gave a sheepish chuckle before leaping down from the sleigh.

Ve leaned toward Odin, whispering, "Is he... Father's friend?"

Odin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yes, and I suspect this is one of those nights."

Meanwhile, Atum, ever the pragmatist, pointed at the sleigh. "That's an artifact," he muttered, eyeing the vehicle with a mix of fascination and suspicion.

Jolnir's laugh boomed again. "Ah, sharp eyes, little one! But enough about me. I see you're playing a game! Jumanji, was it?"

Cul crossed his arms, glaring at the board. "We were winning until you showed up."

Jolnir's mischievous grin widened as he rummaged through his sack of cosmic oddities. "How about I offer gifts as compensation for the little... incident?"

The young gods, wary and still covered in soot from the sleigh crash, exchanged skeptical glances. Odin crossed his arms with an audible sigh. "This is going to be a long night."

Jolnir pulled out several scrolls, their intricate designs glowing faintly. The mere sight of them made the young gods pale.

"Wait a second," Vili said, his voice trembling. "How do you have those?!"

Jolnir's smile turned cheeky. "Oh, just some pages from your diaries, journals, and personal notes; pillow isn't exactly the safest place to hide these, by the way. Don't worry, Santa respects privacy... mostly."

Ve narrowed his eyes. "And why were you snooping in our rooms?"

Jolnir shrugged. "Call it an occupational hazard."

Meanwhile, Ender, leaning against a pillar, struggled to contain his laughter. But his amusement shifted to concern as he eyed Atum. 'Why didn't he just come to me or Gaia if he needed help?' He frowned, contemplating possible reasons.

"For Odin," Jolnir began, producing a leather-bound book with intricate Norse designs, "a little something to help you with your... aspirations."

Odin's eyes widened in horror as he read the glowing title: The All-Father's Guide to Becoming an Ideal Lover (and Managing a Successful Harem).

The hall erupted in laughter.

"Odin!" Vili gasped, doubling over. "A harem?!"

Odin turned crimson. "It's not what it looks like!" He waved the book around defensively. "It's research! For diplomatic relations!"

"Sure, Odin," Ve teased, wiping tears from his eyes. "Diplomacy."

Jolnir turned to Cul next, pulling out a glass bottle filled with shimmering golden liquid labeled: Divine Scale Shine – For Your Scales and Armor.

Cul stared at it in silence. "What... is this?"

"Shining serpent scales!" Jolnir exclaimed, shaking the bottle for emphasis. "It'll make your armor and scales glisten brighter than a sunbeam. Perfect for intimidating enemies and looking fabulous!"

The room erupted in laughter again. Vili slapped the table. "Oh, Cul, you are going to sparkle in battle!"

Cul growled, his face flushing with anger. "I didn't ask for this!"

"Actually, you did," Jolnir said casually, pulling out a journal entry. "'Would be nice if my scales shined like the stars.'"

Cul snatched the bottle, muttering, "I hate you all."

Jolnir turned to the ever-mischievous brothers next. "For Vili, I present..." He pulled out an oversized crown adorned with flashing neon lights that spelled out LOOK AT ME!

Vili froze. "No."

"Oh yes." Jolnir grinned, placing it on his head. "Perfect for ensuring everyone notices you, even in the shadow of your siblings!"

Ve fell to the floor laughing. "Oh, this is amazing!"

"And for Ve," Jolnir continued, producing a golden mirror. "A little something to match your... personality."

The mirror immediately chimed in a melodious voice, "You are the most handsome being in all of Asgard!"

Ve turned beet red as Vili howled with laughter. "It's enchanted to compliment you every time you pass by," Jolnir explained, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Finally, Jolnir turned to Atum, whose calm demeanor had been eroding steadily.

"For Atum," Jolnir declared with theatrical flair, pulling out a beautifully wrapped box that seemed to shimmer in the light, "a gift for your partner, Amaunet, the goddess of air and winds."

Ender, who had been reclining in his seat, nearly toppled over completely, in shock. "Amaunet?!" he blurted out, scrambling upright. His sharp eyes locked onto Atum. "Wait—can you even see her?!"

Atum caught off guard for once, turned an impressive shade of crimson as he saw his father appearing out of nowhere. He reached for the box hastily, muttering, "I can, actually. Mother gave me an artifact to see her..."

Ender's jaw dropped. "Gaia knew?!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "She knew about this, and she didn't tell me?! She tells me everything! Or so I thought..." He squinted dramatically at nothing in particular, as though Gaia herself might appear to defend her secrecy.

Atum, clearly trying to downplay the situation, added, "She's... resourceful, wise, and unique. Amaunet, I mean. Not Mother—though she is too! But..." He trailed off, flustered, as Jolnir handed him the box with a knowing smirk.

"Unique, huh?" Odin said, his one eye twinkling with mischief. "That's one way to put it. What's in the box, Jolnir?"

Jolnir chuckled, clearly relishing the moment. "Oh, just a little something she asked for. It's a personalized wind chime that plays melodies only Amaunet can hear, because, you know, goddess of air and winds."

Ender buried his face in his hands. "A wind chime. For a goddess. Who's invisible to almost everyone except my son. I need to sit down. Oh wait, I already am."

Vili, chimed in with a snort. "Well, at least it's not something weird. Imagine if she had asked for a scented breeze or something!"

"She did ask for one," Jolnir said with a grin, pulling out another small vial. "This is 'Essence of the Spring Zephyr,' her favorite scent."

At that, Ender let out a groan and slumped further into his seat, muttering, "This family gets stranger by the minute."

Atum clutched the box tightly, glaring at everyone with rare determination. "Say what you want, but Amaunet is wonderful. And I'll prove it when the time comes!"

"Sure, sure," Odin teased. "Let us know when the wedding invitations go out. I'll make sure to bring my 'Ideal Lover's Guide!'"

Jolnir, meanwhile, raised his hands. "And with that, my job here is done!" he declared, stepping back with a satisfied smile. "Merry Christmas, and may your family drama continue to entertain the cosmos!"

As the hall descended into chaos—Odin struggling to justify his book, Cul grumbling about his scales, Vili and Ve mocking each other, and Atum trying to avoid further questions, Ender shook his head and muttered under his breath.

"This is why I keep an on everyone," Ender muttered with a knowing smile. Obviously, he knew about his son's relationship; Gaia always told him everything.

~~~~

Merry Christmas here ends the Nice kist but wait it is not the end since there is still 'Naughty' list left.

It is semi-canon. You can also consider it a future sneak peek.

~~~~

I am extremely sorry for the updates some son of bit*h had ruined my mood because I didn't pay for his mother's booty.