Today's theme is paranormal romances?
There are many different versions of the goldemar/ Vollmer folktale.
He's an invisible guest in a castle and depending on the version either has an affair with the count Neveling or the counts sister Kunigunde.

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According to Lady Wilde, if a short cut was taken while carrying a corpse to the grave, the dead would be insulted and disturbed in the coffin...

🎨Wiertz

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'On the moon we have everything. Lettuce, and pumpkin pie and Amanita phalloides. We have cat-furred plants and horses dancing with their wings. All the locks are solid and tight, and there are no ghosts.'

Shirley Jackson

Art: J. Edward Neill -ArtStation

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When she is sad the sea is sad , and both are sad for ever. Carcassonne! Carcassonne!
This city is the fairest of the wonders of Morning; the sun shouts when he beholdeth it; for Carcassonne Evening weepeth when Evening passeth away.

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My grandmother Cicely Anderson, would recount the tale of her Irish ancestor who encountered a Banshee on his way home one evening. Understanding it as an ill omen, he kissed his wife and children goodnight and was found dead in the morning.

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The natives of Renwick, Cumbria were once known as “bats” due to the monstrous creature that is said to have flown around their ruined church at night 🦇


art: Matthew Starbuck

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'The Wild Hunt' image occurs in folklore across Europe - wailing ghoslty souls in a hunt across winter skies, said to be led by a figure such as Odin (providing very tenuous claims of links with Santa Claus).

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"And the roar of the stormy chase went by,
Through the dark unquiet sky!" (Felicia Hemans)

Darklings!

Welcome to a Yule-ishly flying

RTs from 10am - 10pm CET

🎨 Lisa Hunt

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Her long hair flickered in the midnight blast
She sighed with sighs inhuman;
On snow-white horse she galloped fast.
– Johannes Carsten Hauch, The Wild Hunt.

The Wild Hunt is a folklore motif involving a host of lost spirits led by a legendary deity at Yuletide.

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To counter the ill-will of witches or evil spirits that mean you harm, wear ‘Elf-Arrows’ or ‘Fairie Darts’ set in silver or gold as a necklace.


🎨 Ulla Thynell

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Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant's garden she gave none. 'He is too selfish,' she said. So it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

🎨Lisbeth Zwerger

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The ax struck deep into its marrow. The tree sighed as it fell to the ground. It felt faint with pain. Instead of the happiness it had expected, the tree was sorry to leave the home where it had grown up. – Hans Christian Andersen: Fir-Tree

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"The arrangements and decorations of the banquet were probably intended to signify that death in life which had been the testator’s definition of existence."
(Hawthorne "The Christmas Banquet")

Darklings!

Welcome to a seasonally soppy

RTs from 10am-10pm CET

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...before they left, they went first to take the dead head of the stepsister and let three drops of blood drip from it onto the floor, one in front of the bed, one in the kitchen, and one on the stairs. Then they ran off 🖤


🗨️ Brothers Grimm
🎨 Arthur Rackham

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"It can scarcely be owing to chance that three of the masterpieces of the literature of all time, the 'Oedipus Rex' of Sophocles, Shakespeare's 'Hamlet' and Dostoevsky's 'The Brothers Karamazov' should all deal with the same subject, parricide"
(Sigmund Freud)

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"The sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness."
(Joseph Conrad)

🎨 Thomas Moran

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Although their real existence is not proven, it is said that, on stormy nights, the Galician RAQUEIROS (from English wrecker) tied torches to the horns of cows and released them on the cliffs, to confuse the ships that sailed near the coast and cause their wreck.

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C18th sentimentalism forever changed the public grieving of a child’s death. The intellectual Sir Brooke Boothby, lost his child Penelope (age 6). On her sad tomb it read: ‘The unfortunate parents ventured their all on this frail bark and the wreck was total.’

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‘The Visit at Moonlight’ by E.T. Parris (1832)

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