The other day on my walk I saw a mockingbird diving and wheeling over and over into a little bush, very agitated. Eventually I saw there was a big crow in among the bush twigs, presumably trying to get at what must be her nest. Feeling it my duty as the human observer to side with the smaller bird/distressed mom on this I strode over and said to the crow "Hey bud, go eat something else." The crow flapped off, seeming peeved, and the mockingbird flew after it and did not thank me. I walked home feeling virtuous but also a little doubtful, because I love crows, and the world of eating and being eaten is not congruent with human morality. Plus a lot of the time mockingbirds are just being dicks. I didn't actually even see a nest. Maybe that crow was just hiding in the bushes from being fucking hassled. In general I wondered if it had been my place to take sides.
Anyway so the last couple of days, a bunch of crows have been gathering closer and closer to my apartment. They don't do anything, they just peer in the window and make the cats frantic. "It was one nest," I told them. "There's all kinds of stuff to eat in those woods. There's berries and bugs. You had to follow me home about this?" Crows didn't say shit. Just ruffled at me and looked at the cats in a disdainful, snacky way.
Finally I said aloud "Crow, I'm very sorry I got high and mighty with you about that mockingbird. I didn't even see you eating any eggs, and it was none of my business." I put out some seeds and peanuts, and now they have all left. They're not even eating the peanuts! They just wanted an apology.
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Protective household demons in Polish folklore
Belief in protective household demons was in all likeliness widespread among Slavic peoples from time immemorial. We do not know how those demonic creatures were imagined and what forms of cult were associated with them in the distant past, since the first sources on this subject we find in confessional literature of the late Middle Ages. In the XV-th century sermon fragment mentioned in previous chapters we find words of disapproval towards folk practice of „feeding” the protective spirits of the house called ubożęta (singular: ubożę).
”There are those who do not wash the dishes after dinner on Great Thursday and holy day, so as to feed the souls that they call vbosshe (ubożę) and others, believing stupidly that spirits need corporal things, when it is written that the Spirit does not have flesh or bones. Some purposefully leave the remains of dinner on their plates, to thus feed the souls or a certain demon that they call vbosshe, but this is completely ridiculous, because they often think, foolish and naive, that what they have left is food for the aforementioned vbesshe, since they care for it to attract good luck, but very often it is a dog that comes without them realizing and devours the remains.”
- Anonymous sermon, XVth century Poland, translation from „Sources of Slavic Pre-Christian Religion”, red. Álvarez-Pedrosa
The same problem was also touched on in two other works, the XVI-th century „Postępek prawa czartowskiego przeciw narodowi ludzkiemu” (roughly translates to „The Progress of Devilish Deeds Against the Human Nation”) and XVII-th century „Czarownica powołana” (roughly „The Witch Appointed”), whose authors were critical of the common practice of the housewives leaving a special, separate evening meal to the protective spirits of the household. P. Gilowski in his XVI-th century „Wykład katechizmu Kościoła krześcijańskiego z pism świętych” (roughly „Explaining the cathechism of Christian Church from holy scripture”) counted protective household spirits among satanic apparitions and wrote „… there are various sorts of devils, earthly skryatkowie (the modern word would be „skrzaty”), domestic ubożęta…”. According to B. Baranowski on the territory of central Poland in XVII-th and XVIII-th century „the belief in all sorts of protective deities remained exceptionally deep. Quite often they were some sorts of household spirits. (…) One was supposed to leave them a little bit of food in the corner of the hut or in the hall and they would then ensure good luck and wealth of the house. Other creatures of this sort were said to live in barns. For this reason one of the boards in the roof of the barn would be left loose, without nails or a small hole would be made in it, and thus it was ensured that the spirit can enter the barn at will.”
The aforementioned ubożeta, skrzaty and other related protective house spirits, similarly to atmospheric and natural demonology, were included in the family of devilish beings during the Counter-Reformation. On this basis, completely new images of domestic demons were formed, such as the diabeł-latawiec (a character combining elements of an atmospheric demon, a protective household spirit and the devil) or a diabeł-chowaniec (devil-familiar). Both of these beings were credited with activities aimed at securing abundance and prosperity on farms. As a consequence, this led to the formation in the minds of the rural people of the dual nature of devilish beings, that could be either dangerous and harmful or good and caring. The latter group included, among others, guardian house demons.
Concurrently, in the second half of XVIII-th century Catholic clergy started their own varied efforts towards broader dissemination and popularization (especially in rural areas and small towns) of the cult of angelic beings in particular guardian angels. To the latter they would assign very specific protective functions which were supposed to result in complete erasure of traditional beliefs in household spirits that were still present in the popular consciousness. The Church doctrine of that time stated that every person has a God-assigned guardian angel whose task is to guard their charge from all kinds of dangers and temptations. An interesting aspect of that protection was the constant war guardian angels and devils would wage over the salvation of human soul. This concept also found it’s reflection in the developing folklore, for example in an eschatalogical piece „Przemowa Diabła i Anioła przy łożu Umierającego” (translates to: The Speech of a Devil and an Angel by the bed of a Dying Man).
- Polska demonologia ludowa by Leonard Pełka, amateur translation by Zarya-Zaryanitsa
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Deliciously fucked up way for Team Prime to find out about the supernatural: Have a fae show up in one of the kid's homes. False Artifact preying on Raf's baby/toddler siblings, a Pooka replacing the pet dog at Miko's, or a Kobold decides Jack's place is nice enough to stay. The kids have a feeling something is up but the bots think it's just nothing.
Until they find an old school packet with info that eeriely matches the signs in their respective home. Miko's Pooka Hunting goes a bit awry so Bulkhead ends up seeing her get chased outside the house by something that definitely isn't a dog. Raf barely got one sibling away from being eaten by a False Artifact. Arcee might've damaged the house to grab Jack as he accidentally spook a Kobold.
Cue concerned bot noises upon seeing the packets. I don't think they like the idea of children eating fae in their charges' homes.
Ahhh, this went in a different direction.
Warning: off-screen character death (age-related and car accident), dubcon/noncon body modifications, and underage drinking
Now the Darby household does have a Kobold. It's been following them (and the lineage) for a very long time. Generation after generation, parent to child as the unspoken agreement is held with family traditions, superstitions, and practices that have been ingrained into family lore.
If there's one thing June absolutely misses about her ex-husband, it's his family. While June hadn't cut ties with her own blood, her own kin (even her own parents) never spent time in one place for too long. They welcomed into their home. Treated her well with food and warmth and taught her their traditions as she married a son of theirs.
It's an unfortunate fact of life that time comes for all. Oma survived years of hardship by war and reconstruction, without her beloved husband, and the deaths of her own dwindling family, she died peacefully in her sleep during a visit to see a toddling Jack. His parents, though...
When the call came that his parents were killed in a massive pile-up on the freeway, their lives came crashing down.
Grief manifests in so many ways. June cherishes what was left behind. She uses the quilts and recipes and leaves out a portion of dinner for the 'spirit of the hearth.' Her husband, however, drowned himself inside the hospital; unable to come home and look at the reminders, refusing to do anything with it.
Their divorce comes and it's... amicable. The man who was once her husband stares back with a frozen heart, shrouded by his own grief, and he offers to leave them the house as well. June declines and searches for warmer shadows.
The house is sold. June and Jack move on, and the Kobold follows them.
June is a Darby child, and her son follows her as well. Memories are cherished by them. (Faithfully. Hungrily.) And June dutifully attends to her once-husband's family's traditions: leaving dusty corners, a few dirty plates in the sink, grease on the stove, and many, little things that keep the home running. He may try to escape them, but she won't deny their son the same happiness and joy in it.
Jack was too young to remember his family's faces outside of photos and portraits, but there is a lullaby that follows his dreams, crooning over his head and chasing away his nightmares.
For the longest time, he thought the extra dinner plate was for Oma because it's the same dishes and sweets she once ate, even to this day. Jack was quick to hunt for tidbits about them, and always attributed missing left shoes, misplaced kitchen pens, tipping empty glasses during holidays, and creaking floorboards at night as her mischief. I'm still here, it said. I won't leave.
Jack grew up with the same quilts that consumed him, produce that never spoils (the milk might, but it's easy to make cheese from sour milk), and all the little things that made a house a cozy home.
Much like her own family, June and Jack moved frequently as well. Pests were never a problem for them, nor were mold or leaks. They were strangely lucky in that regard.
The Esquivel home does have Others in their vicinity. It's due to the unknown actions of their youngest member. One day when Raf was far younger and playing hide-and-seek with his siblings and neighborhood kids, Raf came across a pitiful, little creature in a drying puddle.
It flopped and croaked, squirming and clawing at the edges of the barely wet concrete of the patio. Scales flaking in dull, resplendent hues, and its side bleeding a sluggish black ooze. It wasn't a fish. Fish had no arms or torsos, nor had his older brother's books on marine life had anything about fish with two tails. Or fish that scream hard enough to make his nose bleed and cry oily marbles that plink on the ground.
To this day, Raf doesn't know what compelled him to step closer but he did. He saw the strange eyes, blinded and pulsing with veins. Later he'll find out about nictitating membranes, but at the moment it was strange to see how a little, blind not-fish stared back at him, mewling something that skittered across his senses and he tasted blood at the back of his throat.
Mama Esquivel was livid over his son's wet jacket and then concerned when he showed the deep bite on his hand and how his nose continued to bleed.
The birdbath in their backyard does get visitors. Raf rises with the sun to watch strange fish-like creatures splash around the small fountain, singing beautifully to coax birds to eat them whole. His sisters think there's a hawk or an owl nearby that hunting down the smaller birds. Raf knows better. He leaves them lizards and newts, dead rats and mice from traps, and leftover meat and nopales that he can carefully sneak away. Much like corvids, they leave him those oily-slick marbles (pearls), carved sea glass that store whalesong, and beautifully intact shells that contain the noise of a howling tempest and the sea at its most furious.
He knows because they explained it to him. Safety, they said as Raf learns to invoke a flashflood and charm to remain inconspicuous and he understands.
"I wish I knew what you're saying to me," a boy told a small fae that was dropped by a red-tailed hawk, far away from any source of water to return home.
Its laughter was the sounds of a babbling brook, the river rushing into the ocean's arms. It asked its savior what was the boon he wished for, and the child unknowingly answered.
< Wish granted, little Mudman. > And it savagely bit his hand to share their blood for water touched everything and anything, and who else but the fae could bestow the gift of language of any tongue?
Just because Miko is far from Japan, that doesn't mean she doesn't have something attached to her. And of course, it's a cat.
At first, she thought a feral cat lost a match with a cactus or a porcupine and had recently escaped a trap based on all the pins and dragging tail, but not at all. Much to her amazement, it's fast on its paws. Far more agile and durable, she has seen the creature slash massive cacti and easily jump from the ground to rooftops.
The host family she stays at isn't as boring and straight-laced as she once thought. They do enjoy making homemade brews and other fermented goods. They allow the kids to sample it, but only on the weekends and after a good meal.
She gets a little information from her host family. It's a Catcus Cat - a mythical beast; something that isn't real.
Miko leaves a shallow bowl of her own efforts at making mead and other alcoholic beverages, and the Catcus Cat seems to take a liking to the fruitier and sweet drinks.
The Catcus Cat follows her to the Autobot base. Even when she was riding with Jack and Arcee, she was able to spy the beast racing alongside them in the sand, easily keeping pace.
It allows her to pet it occasionally. Purring as it keeps its spines flat and soft, still prickly but leaving no damage. But it prefers chasing games, so Miko cobbled a fishing rod with pieces of raw meat to play 'Fetch' and got a laser to watch it scramble up solid walls and scale cliffsides.
Unlike the Darby's Kobold and Raf's aquatic visitors, the Catcus Cat had interactions with the Autobots. Particularly Arcee and Bumblebee. They enjoy racing in the high-noon sun and dark empty roads at night. It comes along because very few can truly challenge them. And the Autobots think it's a baseline Earth animal. A charming one, even if its yowls are thundering.
Out of all the Autobots, it's Arcee that figured out something is off. Unlike Miko's inability to hide a new car and the Esquivel's already full garage, Arcee can fit comfortably in the Darby's garage. June even partitioned out an area for the Autobot to transform and scavenged large bean bags and thick body pillows as a makeshift bed.
June often works and Jack is either at Knockout Burger or the base after school, so Arcee has no idea how there are fresh meals, hot and ready on the stove as well as how the Pits her pillow nest is fluffed and straightened when there's no one at home!
Arcee thinks there's some sort of weird intruder in their house that likes being domestic, and it drives her nuts that June and Jack are completely nonchalant over the fact.
She's definitely not happy hearing it's been happening for over a decade, and no she doesn't believe it's the ghost of a dearly departed relative!
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