#St.nicholas

[vintage-ukraine]

St.Nicholas's Church in Kyiv, 1910

[the-lady-of-thargelion]

Merildis stayed quiet for a moment. Ever since her late husband passed away, she had adamantly refused to speak to him. The countless drawings in her notebook felt enough. And yet the pain had not faded - she still felt the cold sting of loss.

She took in a dep breath. She was a healer, she was supposed to know about the healing process, and yet.

She looked at her hands, and then she looked at Turalora. And shaking a little, she signed her husband's name.

Morifinwe Carnistir Feanorion. He came to be known here as Caranthir, Lord of Thargelion.

She felt tears welling in her eyes. And yet, she complied with the request and kept signing.

A lot of people would deem him angry and heartless. And many other names. They did not know him. I remember... It was a very cold winter. Provisions were fine for us, but the Second Comers... They struggled. He asked me if I could prepare some ailments and he arranged for a carriage full of warm clothing, food and drink, some toys too. We headed to them. The way those mortals lit up at the gifts is still etched in my mind. Lady Haleth and her people had already departed, but that did not mean that some Men decided to stay in Thargelion.

She felt a couple of tears fall down, which she wiped away with an ornate handkerchief.

@gentle-raiment

Merildis admitted that she had been surprised by the visitor. Lothlorien was a closed place, but if they were there it was clear that the Lady and the Lord of the Galahdrim were happy for them to stay.

She could feel it, they were neither man nor elf, but a maia indeed. The reason as to why they were there eluded her, but she knew when to question something and when not.

She bowed respectfully in front of them, inviting them to have a seat with a gesture, and then waited for them to speak.

[lambiewrites]

Letter To Santa

TaskForce 141 x Child!GN!Reader

Warnings: none, be prepared for teeth rotting, sweet fluff. We believe in Santa on this page. This is primarily center around our dear Capt. Price because seeing him as a father figure would cure my woes. This is not proof read and I just woke up so have fun ❄️🎶🎄

Word Count: 1.29K

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The stocking were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St.Nicholas soon would be there.

Little hands eagerly worked at a red pen and delicate paper, smoothing out wrinkles. Fingers grazed papyrus with ease and little barefeet barely brushed against the cold floor. Brows knitted in concentration as the wee babe bite their tongue in thought.

“How do you spell Santa?”

The sweet voice echoed through the barrack walls quite the contrast of its usual interior.

“S-A-N-T-A. Here little one, I’ll write it down for you.” The gruff voice bent down with a crack of his spine before letters curled one by one to spell the jolly fat man’s name.

“And how do you spell Christmas?”

A gruff sigh came from the man’s beard lips as he spelt out the words CHRISTMAS in extra large font for the babe.

Captain Price was a man well into his years, beaten and broken down from multiple years of war and hardship but, somehow or another you wiggled your way into his heart. He most certainly thought of you as his own and cared for you like such.

Calloused hands tending to your every need such as tying your shoes, reaching top shelves, teaching you sight words and so on and so forth.

“Kid, what are they teaching you in school? Do I have to spell everything for you?” He teased, running large calloused digits though H/C hair, ruffling it a bit but quickly slicking down its strands back in place.

“Could you write my letter? Please? I’ll tell you everything you need to write!?” Eager pleads filled the air and brought about the rest of the men to seek out your woes.

“Just this once! And I won’t ask for anything else!”

A half snort left the masked lips of our dearest stoic, balaclava covered “friend”. Deep voice for a large man indeed. A bit scary but, you were never scared of the one in which they call “Ghost”. Oh no, quite the opposite. You played with him, hugged him, snuggled up to him, had breakfast with him, much like everyone else who you had wrapped around your little tiny fingers.

“I find that rather hard to believe,love” He stated rather promptly, leaning back against a rickety chair, stretching his limbs out a bit.

“It’s true! I promise! And I can’t lie because Santa is watching AND, unlike some people-“ You shot glares at Ghost and Soap, Soap whom shot you a half innocent look back as if he had no idea what you were even rambling about. Ghost, if at all possible rolled his eyes beneath the mask at your little rambling. At least Gaz was safe from your rambles and tales of the “naughty and nice list.” You were certain your name and Gaz’s name was on the nice list, and maybe Price’s, but Ghost and Soap’s? Absolutely not!

“I’m gonna be on Santa’s nice list so I can get lots and lots of presents. So I can’t lie. Just, someone please write my Santa letter for me!? That’s all I ask! Please!? Pretty please?! Pretty please with sugar on top?!”

Little hands clasped together eagerly begging and pleading for your letter to be written, feet bounced from one heel to the next, little E/C eyes looked up to the men round, full of light and wonder but pupils wide and begging almost like a puppy who wanted a treat.

“Tch, fine. Only this once. Got it? Now, come here, little one. I’ll see to it that your letter is written and fit for Santa.” Captain Price patted his knee and you eagerly abided, settled atop his knee as if he were Santa himself. Come to think of it, if he had a longer, white beard and was a little fatter and more jollier, he could be Santa. You giggled in thought, earning a brow raise from Price before he carefully held you steady.

The hand that was holding you, held that same bright red ink pen gently against the notebook paper that you had originally used to write your own, little letter.

“Ready Captain? I gotta big list of things to write and say. Think you can keep up?” You teased the old Captain though you did this quite often and found joy in joking about his age. Though, the Captain wasn’t that old. He was in his late 30’s, early 40’s but, to you he was ancient.

“Take your best shot, kiddo.”

He chuckled before the tip of the red pen pressed against the crinkled paper, whereas you rambled on about your list, Price was lightly writing out as followed:

Dear Santa,

I have been really good this year. I have done all of my chores without complaining and been on my best behavior. For Christmas this year I want (insert toy list here) and for my “pretend” family to get everything they want Christmas. Oh! And I want them to be able to go home and spend Christmas with the people they love. Because that’s what Christmas is all about. Family and love.

P.S. Can you please get my Uncle Ghost a boyfriend/girlfriend. Thanks. He’s really lonely.

“Is that good?” You asked the Captain with a small tilt of your head, holding up the crinkled paper reading over each and every sentence you made Price write.

“Men, Do me the honor of looking over their letter. Tell me, is it Santa Clause worthy?” Price held the crinkled paper up for Ghost, Soap and Gaz to look over.

Gaz was the first to read it, chocolate hues scanning the paper over and over again with a small chuckle at the last sentence. A hand went over to tuck strands of H/C behind your ears and compliment your work, though Price wrote you you worded it.

Soap was next and as azure blue eyes looked over the paper he chuckled whole heartedly.

“Ya really are doin’ poor L.T. a favor here aren’t ya lass/lad?” Soap chuckled wholeheartedly before Ghost snatched the paper from the Scotsman.

“Johnny what’re you laughing at-“

He breathed in a heavy sigh at the last little sentence you had, had Price write.

“Bloody hell…”

He grumbled, large digits pinching the bridge of nose through mask and balaclava.

“It’s funny.”

You giggled, peering over Price’s tired shoulders to see Ghost’s reaction.

“Aye lass/lad, it’s also Santa worthy.” Soap got in another chuckle before snatching the crinkle red written letter back from Ghost and letting Price read over it one more time, before sealing it up into an envelope, licking it shut and sticking a little stamp on it.

“Say, Y/N? Do you know what Santa’s address is?” The Captain arched a brow at you as you seemed to be falling somewhat sleep in his gentle hold.

“Uh uh. But I bet it’s on your maps. Somewhere. You got lots of them. You can find it, I believe in you.”

You chuckled in a half sleepy manner, leaning back against Price’s broad chest, H/C and H/L falling over your tired features.

Price turned your body, so you were tucked tightly into his arms gently moving strands of hair out of your face. He thought for a moment at your little request and a subtle hum came from him.

In a hushed tone he whispered a simple,

“Don’t worry little lamb, St.Nicholas will get your letter, my men and I will make sure of it. “

He pressed a soft kiss against the crown of your head before letting you slumber and dream in his arms. He fetched the other men to quickly find Santa’s address for your silly, one of a kind letter.

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A/N: I suck at accents and writing but, my brain has been turned off recently because ya girl graduated last Saturday and I threw everything I've ever known out the window haha. I love writing fluff and I will die on that hill. This idea also came to me from a couple of AI chat roleplays and simply, well Christmas spirit. I know the gang is probably ooc and I sincerely apologize for that. I will get better, trust me! Reqs are open forever and always! Reblogs are def appreciated!

[frosted-night]

Did you know North has a canonical son?

Coming from the legends of Germany, he is called Knecht Ruprecht. Knecht, meaning Servant or farmhand. His other aliases are:

"Hans Ruprecht, Rumpknecht, but is also referred to as De hêle Christ ("The Holy Christ"), while in Mecklenburg he was called Rû Clås (Rough Nicholas)."

If you see any depictions of him resembling Krampus, those aren't true to life. He moreso resembles a dark bearded man or looking like a raggid St Nicholas.

Like Krampus, he was a foil to St Nicholas, meant to punish naughty children with his switches. However, he is much milder than Krampus. His legends goes as such.

"According to tradition, Knecht Ruprecht asks children whether they can pray. If they can, they receive apples, nuts and gingerbread. If they cannot, he hits the children with his bag of ashes. In other versions of the story, Knecht Ruprecht gives naughty children gifts such as lumps of coal, sticks, and stones, while well-behaving children receive sweets from Saint Nicholas. He is also reported to give naughty children a switch (stick) in their shoes for their parents to hit them with, instead of sweets, fruit and nuts, in the German tradition."

So he certainly doesnt take too much after Krampus, but whats his backstory?

One variant is that he was a simple farmhand who rose to the occasion to shadow St.Nicholas. my favorite is the foundling telling.

Foundlings were infants or children who were abandoned by their biological parents to either die or be found by another.

St.Nicholas found a poor baby boy alone in the woods of Germany and took him in as his own son. An accident involving horses caused Ruprecht to walk with a limp, but Nicholas fashioned him a cane to help him walk.

In the rotgoc-verse, its even more gut wrenching if you translate this with North instead. North, who grew up with brigands and was abandoned much like Ruprecht, finds an abandoned child who would surely freeze to death. Him cradling the small infant, choking up a little as the boy falls asleep in Norths warm arms.

He'd raise Ruprecht with pride, teaching him everything about the wonders of the world and how his job worked. The accident that caused Ruprecht's limp would wound North, feeling like a failure. Then he'd carve Ruprecht's cane by hand, enchanting it to grow with his son.

The guardians at first would be shocked to see North adopted a child, but it would make sense the longer they watch North interact with Ruprecht. North definitely had that baby in a sling on his chest. The proudest papa on the North Pole. (He just had to figure out how to tell Krampus...)

[vintage-russia]

View of the Church of St.Nicholas the Wonderworker on the bank of the Sungari River,Harbin (1945)

Photography by Vladimir Ablamskiy (1911-1994)

[mythigal1966]

Account of a Visit from St.Nicholas | Quincy’s Tavern Reading

[skelligiri]

2023 recap

Well, this is it for 2023. Here's a recap of this year's videos and artwork (not including video preview gifs)

Good Omens animated videos:

Crawley struggles in the aftermath of the flood and decides to appeal to the king's sense of pride by encouraging him to build a tower into the heavens. However, the demon's activities don't go unnoticed by heaven and hell alike.

Aziraphale doesn't dare ask. Luckily, he doesn't need to.

The ineffables through the ages.

In which Crowley and Aziraphale meet St.Nicholas, and Crowley becomes the inspiration for Krampus.

Good Omens fanart:

January:

Nights in

Philosophers

Stronk

February:

Just some TLC

Alexandria

March:

They like holding hands

Ring of the Nibelungs

Hug

You mustn't be so reckless

Prohibition

April:

Beginnings - gif

Beautiful creature

Protective Crowley

Earth day

Pure evil (slightly NSFW)

May:

Going to be alright

Drinking buddies

Forehead kiss

Sirius

June:

South Downs

Get it off your chest

Wings

July:

Big spooky fan

Home

Dancing in space - gif

Every day - gif

Heart rain - gif

August:

More hugs

This one's my favourite

Dream of whatever you like best

September:

St.James Park

Kiss in the rain

Burned sneet

October:

Cosy nights

No standalone images for Nov/Dec because I had to focus on the Myra video. Hope you enjoy, and I wish you a happy 2024!

[purdd]

Ah hell naw our boy Arty ran into murderous St.Nicholas

[weirdbookthings]

Watch your toes!

From St.Nicholas illustrated magazine for young folks

[rosebloodwater]

Happy St.Nicholas Day. Please leave a carrot for my reindeer 🦌

[vintage-ukraine]

Consecration of St.Nicholas's Cathedral in Kyiv, 1909

[ceruleanempyrean]

Happy Feast day, St.Nicholas!

[msfbgraves]

The Season of the Spirit

Sorry I got the cockles of my heart warmed straight through yesterday.

Saint Nicholas does of course hit people in all the sentimentals: it's about giving to children, specifically, not adults, and about selfless giving. It's direct giving - physical toys, no vague monetary donations that could line other people's pockets. No greedy board member is going to hoard glitter gel pens, or cuddly toys. It's also about family time together. And it's somehow a symbol for "Dutchness" (it's not but it's perceived to be), so right wingers don't object. It's also so pagan that in practice it's pan religious and atheist.

People have therefore, zero reason not to want to reach out and then, goodness, they can come together so hard.

A mother, a few years ago, started a St. Nicholas themed toy donation drive. Because St.Nicholas loves all children, whether or not their parents can afford to buy them toys. Children should be visited by St. Nicholas. Even children who don't believe in St Nicholas should be visited by St. Nicholas. There's even a line in the most famous St. Nick song

Oh, sweet Saint Nicholas, will you come to me, too?

Please don't quietly pass by my home...

And with growing poverty, Saint Nicholas was quietly passing by homes and it was not to be borne.

The Hague regional radio picked up on it. A year later Leiden picked up on it. There was a donation point for gifts in the The Hague public library, ages 0-18. They hoped for 20,000 presents, that would be grouped in to packages by age, and distributed around the greater The Hague region on the eve of Dec 5. From a bonafide Santa's Workshop, the way it is always portrayed in stories about Nicholas and his helpers. They flat out created a real life Santa's workshop with people packing gifts and sending them to children.

They had hoped for 20,000 gifts.

Around 18,000, a bank donated €1000 to be spent on gifts. People rushed in on the last day with donations. And I mean carrying dolls and cars and sweets and puzzles and plush animals and perfume and make up and electronics and books and craft sets and legos.

They totalled 47,000 + gifts.

This year - this went far beyond The Hague. Extra donation points were set up. 3 more radio stations in neughbouring towns and regions. There was a donation tram for people who couldn't make it to a donation point. A grandmother crocheted 200 fairy tale figures. Ikea set up donation points and promised to match every gift with 2 others (given their margins, I'm sure they made money on that even then, but since all the gifts were bought at retail price anyway, Ikea was as good a place to buy as any.)

The bank donated another €1,000

They'd already set a goal of 50,000 gifts this year.

They totalled more than 88,000. That's the people of one big and one medium sized city. Because children deserve a visit from St. Nick.

This, too, is humanity.

[frosted-night]

The Rotgoc fandom is no stranger to misconceptions, like somehow saying Jokul Frosti is Jacks norse counterpart when Jokul n Frosti are two seperate spirits etc. You guys know that I'm sure.

One that nags at me is the notion that Jack Frost and "Father Frost" are the same person or spirit. In my research for the Christmas spirits, I've learned quite a bit about Father Frost, and its very clear that he isn't Jack. Father Frost is North, or related to him.

Father Frost comes from a Russian Folktale that goes as follows;

A stepmother orders her husband to take the stepdaughter out in the wilderness to die. The girl is freezing at the foot of a tree and Father Frost appears. Instead of fearing him she's said to be nice to him despite her circumstances. Touched by the girl, Father Frost dresses her in warm fine linens to keep her warm and gives her a chest full of gems. The Stepmother sends her husband to fetch the girls body to bury and to his surprise the girl is just fine. Stepmother is enraged but curious how the girl got such nice things. So, she sends her own daughter out in the same place the stepdaughter nearly died in, to get the same valuable stuff. Father Frost appears but the girl is rude to him, probably demanding the same things as her stepsister. Insulted, Father Frost punishes her by allowing her to freeze to death.

Moral of the story is don't be greedy ig. So whats the connection to North? Father Frost sounds more like a winter spirit than Santa right? Ehhhh kind of. Father Frost is based off of the Slavic counterpart of Santa, Ded Moroz(This is the Russian spelling of his name.) Ded Moroz is said to be either a winter wizard, snow demon. Back then he was mostly called "Morozoko" or "ded". He was reformed to resemble more of Santa around the time of Soviet occupation.

Now, the early iteration of Ded Moroz could resemble Jack Frost, why the literal translation for his name is Grandfather Frost. However, just because Frost is in his name doesn't mean they're related. Ded Moroz resembles Santa more these days or St.Nicholas...so who's Ded Moroz?

Keep in mind I'm not Russian or Slavic, Eastern European countries have differing versions of Santa/St.Nicholas that could just be aliases for North. A reasonable assumption is Ded Moriz is an alias for North. I suppose if you stretched it maybe Ded Moroz could be separate from Jack or North but due to the evolution of Ded Moroz's character it makes it hard to split him from Santa.

Regardless, I can kind of see why some would tie him to Jack Frost but if you read more about Father Frost/Ded Moroz, it's pretty clear the two barely have any association.

[portraituresque]

Self-Portrait as Sinterklaas (artist in St.Nicholas Custom) - Theo Kurpershoek - 1969

[tursitesi]

Demre, Kekova bay by boat, Myra, St.Nicholas Church