#tomtes

[thehmn]

Because I’m more of a folklore and myth fan than modern fantasy fan I had no idea kobolds are usually depicted as lizards in the West and dogs in the East.

I’ve read up on why (in the original dnd manual kobolds looked like weird lizard dog people and afterwards some creators focused more on the lizard aspects while others focused more on the dog aspect, which resulted in some creators depicting them as any random animal they like) but in folklore kobolds are literally just the German version of gnomes, or the Scandinavian nisse/tomte.

They are both small and dress like the peasant class of their respective countries, they both have the ability to transform into animals and inanimate objects, though they tend to change back pretty quickly suggesting they don’t have the “stamina” to keep the illusion up for long, they act as house helpers and protectors but will turn nasty if disrespected sometimes going so far as to burn the whole house down, and they also work on ships both as helpers and bad omens. The ship thing overlaps so much that if you look up ship kobold or ship gnome (skibsnisse) you get the same pictures.

The only big difference I could find is that folklore kobolds are also known to work in mines, though I wouldn’t be surprised if you get some mine nisse/tomte in Norway or Sweden that I just haven’t come across yet. The Danish nisse variant is also known to have a wide variety of jobs like farmer, church helper, scribe and miller.

My general impression is that folklore kobolds are sliiightly meaner gnomes but not by much, so while I’d never tell fantasy kobold fans to change anything about their beloved creature, if I were ever to make a fantasy world I’d depict them as the bad boy relative of the nisses who are very close knit with humans, even living with them, while kobolts prefer more unsavory or unrefined humans and naturally encountering dwarfs more often in the mines, and have tomtes live in nature with more close relations to wild animals but still relatively close to humans and put them all under the species of gnome.

[filurig]

two character's ive had in mind for a while but finally got myself to design, ylvarg (he/him) and faství (she/her)! they are old friends of gullmar !

ylvarg is a passionate linguist and polyglot (in the sense that he can understand many different languages... due to troll anatomy he cant speak any other than trollic), while faství is a tomte who loves to travel and be all over the place - otherwise, she wouldn't make the trek from her home in ångermanland to gästrikland every year to meet up with her friends during winter!

[ryuubff]

shuake and january weather and clinginess

[caleod]

25-12-23

[imaginationshow]

A Swedish gårdstomte I drew yesterday. Trying to connect to the style of the late 1800 when artists like Jenny Nyström, Carl Larsson and John Bauer shaped the collective image of our fairytales and myths.

I was inspired to do this when I found two 120 year old original pen and ink fairytale illustrations at the secondhand the other day. A real find! And I even managed to find what books they originally were published in. More about that some other day.

[royalwilmon]

this is a prequel of sorts to always on the tip of my tongue! a glimpse into wille and simon's very first taco tuesday. eventually (like, after all of tomt is published, so basically never) this will be one part in a series of mikael pov insights into wilmon's relationship, but i wanted to share this for now! enjoy!! <333

if he likes you, he'll smile

Mikael had been working at Geronimo’s for nearly two months the day that he met Wille and Simon. 

He didn’t even think he’d be in the job that long. He had just been laid off from another corporate bullshit position and had been enjoying a proper midlife crisis when another eviction notice forced him to resort to bartending again. Geronimo’s FGT was decidedly not his kind of place. He hated how touristy the area was, hated the shitty bands the owners constantly had in for live entertainment, and more than anything, hated how monotonous the job started feeling just after a couple of weeks. 

He wanted to quit. He was seriously considering giving his notice. He nearly did several times, but for whatever reason, he kept hesitating. It was good that he had a job for now, but he was already restless. Something was missing. Mikael didn’t know what he would do or where to go next, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was invisible here. Mikael couldn’t even remember the last time he had an honest-to-God conversation with someone. In this town, the idea of him disappearing forever without a soul noticing he was gone was more reality than fear. 

And then, one day, on a Tuesday in autumn just like any other Tuesday, Crown Prince Wilhelm sat at the bar right before him. 

Mikael didn’t give a shit about the royal family. He was surprised he even recognized him. He probably only did because Wilhelm was around the same age as Sanna, his daughter. Mikael remembered the headlines when Erik passed away. It was right after Mikael got into that last big argument with Nea before she packed everything they owned, left, and took Sanna with her. He remembered watching the videos of Erik’s funeral on the news, seeing pictures and closeups of Wilhelm, and just thinking about how young he looked. 

He still looked young now. His hair was shorter, his face more angular, and he didn’t look sad like he always did when he was on the news. Quite the opposite, really. He had another person with him tonight, a shorter boy who looked even younger, whose smile seemed so bright and genuine that Mikael almost felt blinded by it. As the two boys slid into their respective barstools, bright laughter filled the room, and Mikael thought that today would be different. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know if the change he felt was necessarily a good one, but it was different. 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to address the prince in any sort of particular way. For a moment, he thought maybe the prince was trying to be discreet, and he shouldn’t address him at all, but the pair of security staff who followed the duo inside and positioned themselves nearby made it clear that Crown Prince Wilhelm was here. Plus, people around the restaurant noticed him and started staring. All eyes Mikael could see were on Wilhelm. 

If the attention bothered Wilhelm and the boy sitting beside him, they didn’t let it show. Mikael couldn’t imagine that it didn’t. He felt awful for the kids. As the stares turned into whispers turned into audible speculation, Mikael felt the urge to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. But if he was going to quit this job, he at least wanted to do so on good terms so he could still have references. He did not need to have to explain the fact that he was fired because he lost his temper in front of a prince to his next employers. 

Realizing that he was staring, too, and was maybe now part of the problem, Mikael cleared his throat, leaning forward on the bar and raising his voice so Wilhelm and his friend could hear him. 

“Can I get you boys something to drink?” Mikael asked, trying his best to sound casual and uninterested.

“What do you have with tequila?” Wilhelm asked. His voice was teasing, his smile playful. Mikael was caught off-guard. He hadn’t spent any amount of time thinking about what the Crown Prince might be like, but this young, smiling boy was nothing like what he might have expected. 

Mikael didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes a little. He picked up a drink menu and placed it down in front of Wilhelm, dragging his finger around the portion of the menu that listed their cocktails and detailed which tequilas they had on the shelf. 

Mikael watched Wilhelm’s smile twist into an amused smirk before he looked down at where Mikael was pointing. 

“Mmm, I’ll take a ginger beer, please,” Wilhelm’s friend said, reading the drink menu over Wilhelm’s shoulder. Mikael nodded and reached under the bar, opening the cooler and pulling out a glass bottle. He placed it in front of the boy, who smiled at him brightly and thanked him. Exceedingly polite. 

Mikael took a moment to size up the prince’s companion. He certainly didn’t seem royal or even royal adjacent. He looked astoundingly normal. While Wilhelm was outfitted stylishly and professionally in a collared shirt and smart sweater, the other boy came simply dressed in jeans and an old hoodie with the drawstring missing. The two boys looked like they came from two different worlds, but at the same time, there was a sort of familiarity and ease between them that felt… right. 

“How spicy is the spicy margarita?” Wilhelm asked, looking up at Mikael with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that Mikael didn’t quite know what to do with. 

“No. No, Wille,” the boy cut in before Mikael could even open his mouth to answer. “You can’t keep pretending you like spicy things. You’ll take two sips, spend the rest of dinner complaining about it, and end up wasting the entire drink.”

“You don’t know that,” Wilhelm grumbled, pouting dramatically as he looked back down at the menu. 

Mikael had to bite back a chuckle. It was amusing how comfortable the boys seemed with each other. The boy called the prince Wille and teased him knowingly. It was strange, seeing someone so famous casually sat in front of him, so strikingly human. Mikael felt drawn to the prince and his friend, almost like he was a part of their world. Or, maybe stranger, that they were a part of his. 

“I’ll order the House Margarita if you can tell me what’s in Geronimo’s Secret Margarita Mix,” Wilhelm said, looking at Mikael with that same playful smile that continued to catch him off guard. 

“It’s written in the employee handbook that if we tell someone, we have to kill them,” Mikael said, without thinking. He had a moment of doubt when he thought that maybe threatening violence against a prince might not be the smartest move, but at Wilhelm’s widening smile, he continued. “It also explicitly states that we do not grant exceptions regardless of rank. The only way one can learn the secret of the Margarita Mix is if they have concerns about allergens.” 

Wilhelm’s friend laughed at that, beaming at Mikael with a thousand-watt smile. 

“Oh, I like you already,” he said. The boy looked at Mikael closer now, considering him in the same careful way Mikael had just done with him. After so much thought about how working in this part of Stockholm made him seem invisible, in this moment, he felt almost unnervingly seen. “I’m Simon. Best friend of Wille. Official title. What’s your name?”

Still apprehensive, Mikael just pointed to his chest, where a nametag was pinned to his apron. 

“Mikael,” Wilhelm read, grinning wide.

“Good, he can read,” Mikael muttered to himself before he had a second to think better of it. 

His gaze flickered over to Simon, who looked like a kid at a candy store. Clearly, he was delighted that Mikael was instantly willing to poke fun at Wilhelm. Mikael didn’t know why he was chasing the approval of this… kid. Especially at the expense of the actual Crown Prince of their country. It was something to do with Simon’s smile, Mikael thought. It felt familiar. It reminded him of Sanna. 

Mikael knew his face fell at that realization. He also knew that Simon had caught it, and Mikael watched as his smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second. 

“Literacy is one of his better qualities,” Simon said to Mikael, glancing over at Wilhelm with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“It’s ‘Gang Up on Wille’ day, huh?” Wilhelm muttered, looking up briefly to glare at Simon. Simon just laughed lightly, looking down at the food menu the hostess had given them when they first sat down. 

Someone in Mikael’s position would have to be blind not to notice the rush of pink on Simon’s cheeks. Mikael remembered what it was like to be that age, no older than nineteen or twenty if Mikael had to guess. He recognized Simon’s exact blush from his early memories of Nea. 

Mikael wasn’t ready to make any assumptions, but he was briefly curious. He thought he would have heard something if the prince was gay. Or bisexual or whatever, Mikael didn’t know. Then again, maybe they were trying to be discreet. But, Mikael thought, there were definitely places more discreet than a busy restaurant in the middle of Gamla stan, just minutes away from the royal palace. 

So, they were probably best friends. Still, Mikael noticed the way Simon looked at Wilhelm, like he had just hung the moon. It wasn’t nothing. 

None of his business, though. 

“I’ll have the House Margarita. Salted rim, please. For now, you can keep your secrets,” Wilhelm said, smiling at Mikael again. “But next time, I’ll find a way to get you to tell me while also sparing my precious life.”  

“Precious,” Mikael scoffed, causing Simon to let out another breath of laughter. 

Mikael opened his mouth to ask to see Wilhelm’s ID before he stopped short. Do members of the royal family even carry identification? Mikael knew Wilhelm was over eighteen, but he was still legally required to ask. Unless there was an exception for princes? He didn’t think there would be, but he also had no reason to know. Would Wilhelm get mad at him for asking? He couldn’t help but glance over to the security guards, who, admittedly, looked terrifying. 

Mikael thought back to how he wanted to quit this job before they fired him. He did not want to have to tell the story of how he was fired for not carding the Crown Prince. 

“Can I see your ID?” Mikael asked, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. 

Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, but he instantly reached into his pocket to remove his wallet and his ID, which, apparently, he did carry with him. That was good to know. 

“I’ve never seen you get carded before,” Simon said to Wilhelm, beaming ear to ear. “This is the best day of my life. I hope the food is good, Wille. This might finally be our place. It feels right.” 

Mikael glanced down at Wilhelm’s ID (which was weird, so extremely weird. Wilhelm had so many names and probably the nicest picture Mikael had ever seen on an ID) before handing it back to him wordlessly. 

Mikael set to work making Wilhelm’s drink, thinking that their interaction was over for now, but Simon spoke up again, surprising him.

“So, Mikael,” Simon said, his voice curious and friendly. “Have you always lived in Stockholm?” 

The answer to the question was no, but Mikael was a very private guy. He didn’t want strangers asking him personal questions. It was none of their business. Especially not the prince’s. 

Mikael finished pouring the last of the ingredients into his cocktail shaker before answering Simon’s question with a frown and a shrug. It wasn’t a yes or a no—it was just an acknowledgment. Simon seemed to take the hint, and he just smiled at him with a nod. Understanding, gracious, unnervingly kind. 

Simon and Wilhelm were quiet while Mikael finished making the drink. They looked around, admiring the space. For all of its faults, Geronimo’s FGT was fun. Decked out in colorful textiles, weird bird taxidermy, and neon cacti, the place felt like a fever dream interpretation of the American Southwest. Mikael did love it, and so, as it would seem, did Simon and Wilhelm, who each wore small, pleased smiles on their faces as they took in the atmosphere of Geronimo’s. 

Giving the margarita a few good shakes, Mikael poured it into a mason jar with a salted rim and slid the drink over to Wilhelm, who thanked him profusely and wasted no time downing half the drink with one prolonged sip.  

“Nectar of the gods…” Wilhelm mused, putting the jar down with a satisfied sigh. Mikael still didn’t know quite what to make of Wilhelm, but he thought that he liked him. Or, at least, he was pleased that the prince seemed to approve of his bartending skills. 

“Anything to eat?” Mikael asked, using both his hands to point at the pair of menus in front of Wilhelm and Simon. 

“It’s Tuesday, so definitely tacos,” Wilhelm said, with so much enthusiasm. 

“Which tacos would you recommend?” Simon asked, looking up from his menu to Mikael. 

“They’re all fucking great,” Mikael said, truthfully. Since starting here, Mikael had tried and enjoyed pretty much the entire menu. “Birria are good. Fish, too.” 

Mikael watched Simon and Wilhelm exchange a look, wordlessly communicating before Simon nodded and grinned, turning back to Mikael. 

“Perfect, we’ll try those,” Simon said, before glancing back at Wilhelm. “And we’ll split them so we can both try both.” 

“And queso, too. Please. As much as you’re willing to give us,” Wilhelm added, before doing something weird with his eyes. Mikael thought Wilhelm might have been trying to wink, but he wasn’t sure. He might just have something really wrong with his vision. 

Mikael left to put in their food orders, and then, a little reluctantly, went back to work. As much as his curiosity made him want to linger by Wilhelm and Simon, there were other patrons sitting at his bar, and more drink orders coming in for him to work on. Even if he had literal royalty at his bar, Mikael couldn’t afford to give them all of his attention. He was cutting his rent a little too close as is. 

While Mikael was able to busy himself with the Taco Tuesday crowd, he did occasionally try to listen in to Simon and Wilhelm’s conversation, just to get a better idea as to what their deal was. He wanted to know why they were here, of all places.

It sounded like they were catching up on the past week or so of their lives. Simon must have been a student, probably here in Stockholm, as he spent most of his meal talking animatedly to Wilhelm about various classes and professors. Wilhelm was listening intently, nodding along and peppering in questions and comments throughout. 

Mikael realized that their appearance at Geronimo’s was really quite simple. Wilhelm and Simon were two friends, meeting for dinner to catch up on each other’s lives. There was nothing fancy, no royal banquets or expensive wines or anything. Just two friends sat at a bar, eating tacos and talking about their day. 

It was… endearing. 

When it was getting late, and their plates were all but licked clean, Mikael approached Wilhelm and Simon again, leaning against the bar opposite them. He offered them a sort of smile, a slight purse of his lips that was just about as friendly as his face could get. 

“Good?”

“Fucking great,” Wilhelm grinned, repeating Mikael’s praise from earlier. 

Giving the boys a satisfied nod, Mikael placed the bill between Simon and Wilhelm. Simon let out a loud bark of laughter before pushing the bill directly to Wilhelm. 

“Why do I always get stuck paying?” Wilhelm said, teasingly. Still, he didn’t hesitate to immediately take out his wallet and hand Mikael a card, smiling politely all the while. 

“Wilhelm, do not get me started today. You are already on such thin ice,” Simon said, his voice surprisingly serious. Simon must have had plenty of thoughts on the excessive amount of cash Wilhelm surely had at his disposal. It was surprising—in a good way, Mikael thought. Wilhelm seemed to have a friend with a good head on his shoulders. Polite, engaging, and willing to challenge him. 

Mikael really, really liked this Simon kid. 

He also really, really missed Sanna.

Mikael ran Wilhelm’s card and returned it to him. Wilhelm pocketed his wallet, thanked Mikael again, and then started to get up. 

“You’ll be working next week, right Mikael?” Simon asked as he stood. Mikael was surprised at the question and didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Simon for a prolonged moment, raising an eyebrow. “Next Taco Tuesday. We’ll see you here again. Next week?” 

Mikael shrugged and smiled a little. He supposed he would stick around until next week, at least, if that meant seeing Wilhelm and Simon again. He was still curious about them. He wanted to listen to them more and try to understand them better. 

“Next week, then,” Wilhelm smiled. He crinkled his eyes in that weird and awkward way again—probably a wink. Then, with a final wave, they left Geronimo’s, security detail in tow. 

Suddenly, Mikael’s monotonous job felt like the most interesting place in the entire country. Maybe Mikael would quit next week. 

But for now, he’d stay. Make a couple of margaritas. Eat a few more tacos. Have a fucking good time. 

[educationaldm]

Not every folklore creature is a fairy. A note on Scandinavian Folklore from @HumonComics and the nature of whether they are good or bad. http://humoncomics.com/not-a-fairy 

[thebrickdwarf]

Tomtar

Two Tomtar. In english Tomtar is called Elfs, but it's not really the same thing. In the Nordic countries, there is a myriad of different folklore creatures called "Oknytt".

Tomten is perhaps one of the few that some people still believe in, at least a little. Although very few would openly admit so.

A very short description of the Tomtar. Just like humans, they are mortal. However, they live very long lives, perhaps 300-400 years. They also have some magical abilities. Most notably, the ability to turn invisible. They can also make their home invisible.

A Tomte is the protector and caretaker of a place. You can be certain that every old farm has one or several Tomtar looking after the place, even if it is abandoned. You can also find Tomtar in churches, castles, graveyards, barns and cottages. In fact, there is probably a Tomte in every building. Even newer ones.

Tomtar also resides in the forests. If a stretch of road running through or near a forest and has more accidents than usual then Tomtar may be the cause. They are probably angry at the traffic. Despite this, Tomtar are usually good and helpful as long as you do not anger them. If you do, they can be very vengeful.

Some things you absolutely should avoid if you want "your" Tomte to stay friendly:

Never be mean to animals

Never throw out hot water without first shouting a warning to the Tomte

Never forget to give porridge to the Tomte on Christmas

Never destroy large rocks or trees on your land unless you really have to. The Tomte will know if it was absolutely necessary or not.

Lastly, as I'm a nurse, I want to add that it is very common for people with dementia or mental disorders to start seeing Tomtar, or "smågubbar" meaning little people. It's so common that it has become a proverb. To say that someone is seeing "smågubbar" is to say that they are a bit crazy. It would be interesting to hear if this is the case in other places as well or if it is something specific to the Nordics.

[chrissabug]

GOD JUL

As the winter solstice approaches and the darkness falls, we celebrate the return of the light and the renewal of the year. . May the Yule Goat, evergreen wreath, and Christmas tree bring blessings and magic to your home.God Jul, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays! 

Okay, I'm a little late for the actual Winter Solstice, BUT somehow barely made it in time for Christmas Day! When I was out for a run yesterday morning I had this idea flash in my mind, so I rushed yesterday and today to whip out this artwork! It is always SO nice when inspiration is flowing.

This piece is very much inspired by the holiday traditions in Scandinavia, and specifically Sweden since that's where I am

[loki-erlking]

In the process of creating a physical manifestation of my 2023 Yule Tomte

He is coming along very nicely, just need to Finnish some painting, but until he is finished, here is an idea of what he will look like, as provided by a fun little AI that my wife found.

He has not yet reveled his name to me yet, but I do hope he gets along with the other Tomte that are already living here

[lepetitdragonvert]

Tomtepojke

1917

Artist : John Bauer

[housamosimp]

Sniff, this part actually made me sigh in relief 🥲

I'm so sorry again for being late but I'm slowly catching up! Gonna draw something about the 7th anniversary!

Hope yall like it!!❤️✨️

[filurig]

goatsss

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Lennart Helje - Tomte Gnome with Cat.

* * * *

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it."

Roald Dahl

(Ravenous Butterflies)

[mail-forwarding]

Finally read Mystic Christmas and.... wow, that sure is a lot of narrative foils going on... Tomte for MC, Ded for Mononobe, the unfair naughty/nice dichotomy for the Game/loops, the imposition of Eden's belief system for the superimpositions of the Exiles......

Heck, you can even make the argument that Tomte's struggle to repress his naughty side parallels the fact that MC is never given the opportunity to actually voice their grievances. They always have to be nice and forgiving, and if not entirely understanding, then at least sympathetic, and definitely compassionate. They always have to rush to help, because if they're not good, if they're not needed, then why would anyone want them around? What meaning would there be to their existence(s)?

(And the whole, "I hate the symbol, but I want the man behind it back. My life went to hell because of what he represents, but I want him back. He gave me an impossible choice, then made the choice for me, without saying anything, before I could even make it, because he knew that either choice would hurt me, but the choosing most of all. Still, I want him back.")

[plounce]

my wol got a haircut, an adorable glam (ty to my fishing buddy), and remains the cutest most wonderful girl in the game. she makes me smile to see her. i wish for her happiness. ffxiv truly is the game that makes u obsessed with your player character