#Terra Morlo

[nehswritesstuffs]

The Seal Man of North Ronaldsay - The Island Nutter

The idea for this one actually came from a bunch joking around in the Clara’s Diner Discord server and the fact that some of us are still absolutely enamored with the image of Ian having a row with a bunch of sheep.

2382 words; I guess this is a reminder that this is a fantasy version of North Ronaldsay, where there’s more than a few dozen people who live there year-round (so, more like a few hundred at the least, possibly going over the historical highs of ~500) so there’s, like, some modern flats in town and enough kids to keep the school open; this is all just Ian the Island Weirdo as seen by the normal mortal residents; Time Lord thinking/shenanigans are sort of a perfect soft-scifi analogy for fae mercurialism and I really don’t know how I should take that

You can find more of the Whouffaldi selkie AU in the Seal Man of North Ronaldsay tag, as well as in this AO3 series.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The thing about Ian Morlo was that he was never entirely what the other island residents expected when they learned that there was someone new living in Orson’s place. Well… an additional new person—it already passed though Orson’s nephew to the lass who owned it currently—but who was really counting? They watched him curiously from afar, which had been the only way to do so at first, as not long after he arrived, a nasty series of storms had passed through the area, but once the sea and sky were in their summer calm, he seemed to be anything but.

“Why aren’t you in the pund?!” he shouted at a sheep as it walked across his path. He had a list in-hand and a reusable shopping tote hooked on his arm; he was on errands.

“You know, if you wanted to, you could help out,” one of the villagers said as he watched the sheep meander through the road. Ian huffed, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets.

“The sheep and I don’t get on,” he claimed. The sheep bleated from afar, seemingly incensing him. “Yeah! Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for what you did to my hair!”

“What, exactly, did that specific sheep do to your hair?” the villager asked.

“It tried to eat it,” Ian claimed, with all the seriousness of a man used to saying much sillier.

“These sheep don’t eat hair—they eat brown kelp.”

“I know what they eat, and it’s frankly an insult.” The sheep came plodding back, gently headbutting Ian’s thigh. “Don’t think you can catch me off-guard, yeh soda-shitter.”

“Ian… it’s a sheep.”

“Like I said: we don’t get on. My hair is not that salty.”

At that, Ian maneuvered his way around the sheep and kept on walking towards the town, leaving the villager shaking his head. The man lifted the wayward sheep upon his shoulders and brought it back to the pund, placing it in the low stone-walled enclosure with all the other sheep of its grouping.

“What’s with that look?” wondered the other villager who was manning the pund. She watched as he shrugged.

“I don’t know if the academic over at Oswald’s is joking or if he’s just trying to get out of doing manual labor. Could be both.”

“Ignore him—the man’s probably going to leave soon anyhow,” she replied. “With how grouchy he is and how little guff she takes, there’s no way it’s going to last much more than after those visitors she’s got coming next week.”

“Maybe… maybe not… we’ll just have to see…” He glanced down at the sheep that he had placed back in the pund and raised his eyebrow.

Now why would a sheep want to eat human hair of all things?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was nearly summer, which meant that he was shouting.

Well, it wasn’t as though he refrained from shouting during the winter months. Actually, he seemed to be rather good at shouting in all sorts of weather. It was simply put that, Ian Morlo, the man who inexplicably showed up one day and made a disturbingly-quick turnaround of stuffing, then marrying, the English lass on the northern end of the island, wandered more in the summer months, and that meant that others had to hear him shout.

“I will not be sassed back to like that!” he scolded. An elderly couple heard him from inside their house, causing the wife to cringe.

“You left the window open, again,” she scowled at her husband.

“It’s such a calm day,” he justified, remaining in his armchair. When he did not move, his wife huffed and went to close the window, except, she was trapped, as she made eye contact.

“Hello,” Ian said awkwardly. The toddler on the baby leash in his hand jumped up and down and waved, babbling importantly before returning to butterfly chasing.

“Hello there, Ian,” the elderly woman replied. “Could you please keep it down? I don’t know why you insist on talking to your daughter like that.”

“Oh, it wasn’t Terra, it was the wood nymph,” he stated, pointing at the tree next to him. A moment passed and he grunted sourly at the plant. “You try doing this sort of thing day after day and see how pleasant you are.”

“Ian… son… you’re talking to a tree…”

“I’m talking to the wood nymph inside of the tree. Now if you excuse me, Terra and I were going to meet Clara at the school, and I don’t think,” he glared at the tree, “I shall endure this abuse for much longer.”

“Are you alright, lad?” the woman asked. “You seem a bit stressed.”

“Been worse,” he shrugged. Ian then gently tugged on the leash, letting his daughter know they were about to start walking again. “Come on, pup; let’s go meet Mam at work so we can walk her home.”

“Mamma! Mamma!” the toddler shrieked happily, clapping her hands as she followed her father. The old woman shook her head and returned to her chair, not even bothering to close the window.

“It was the tree this time,” she said.

“I thought he said it was the nymph inside the tree.”

“There’s no pulpy tart inside that tree; be careful, or you’ll get just as mad as he is.”

“Seadh, a ghràidh,” he replied. There was no use arguing it. Now he just needed to learn to keep the damn window shut.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

If Charlotte had not seen him do something this level of strange before, she almost would have not believed her eyes.

She was returning to the pund after lunch, getting ready to continue shearing the small remaining portion of the flock she was in charge of that day, when she saw him: Ian Morlo. He was comely, that part was not to be mistaken, but the woman was not too keen on the fact that island’s resident nutter was standing atop the stone wall of the enclosure, dangling a lamb by its hind legs. The other sheep were bleating at him, possibly in an effort to have him put down the lamb.

“Ian!” she scolded. “What are you doing?!”

“I need to keep track of this one,” he claimed. He gestured with the lamb, as though that explained everything. “It’s the only one without a brine-soaked brain.”

“Put that lamb down right now!” she insisted. He didn’t, so she forcibly pulled it from his hands and let the creature go within the grassy pund. “You could have just looked at the eartag and remembered that.”

“That is inefficient—they can break and come off, and then what?”

“Then we just put another tag on it—simple,” she replied. “What the hell has gotten into you?!”

“I didn’t think there was anything—oh! Clara!” Ian waved as he saw his wife begin to walk towards the pund, their two-year-old daughter running along behind her. He walked along the top of the pund’s walls and walked right off the edge to land on the grass before them, seemingly not missing a step. “I think you need to explain to Charlotte how rare it is for me to find one of these kelp-munchers that actually is pleasant to be around.”

“What did he do this time, Char?” Clara asked.

“Looked like he was ready to drop a lamb from twelve feet up,” was the reply. Clara frowned at her husband as he picked up their daughter and allowed her to cling tightly to him.

“You’ve taken to threatening lambs now?”

“No! The very specific lamb I had was one of the good ones…!” He was cut off by his wife raising her hand, which he took as his cue to listen to her (and only her).

“If you’re going to threaten the livestock, then at least do it when they’re not captive in the punds, and stick to the adults,” she said.

“I told you,” he insisted, “I was keeping track of it…”

“Ian, be an adult about this.”

“Fine…” he muttered. His shoulders sank, which his daughter took as permission to climb onto them. Once there, she began to pet his fluff of hair, which he was allowing to grow a bit on the longer side as of late.

“Fwuffy!” the little girl cooed. “Daddy! You fwuffy like sheeps!”

“I am not ‘fluffy like the sheep’, young lady,” he groused. The flock bleated at him and he shot them a glare. “I’m watching you! Now don’t ruin that lamb’s chances at becoming something actually worth maintaining this pund for, you kelp-hoovers!” More bleating and Ian’s face went red. “You watch your mouths!”

“Ian come on, let’s go,” Clara insisted. She began to pull her husband along by his elbow, giving Charlotte an embarrassed grin. “I’ll see you when you come to pick Lorens up tomorrow!”

“Tìoriadh!” Charlotte said, giving her friend a half-hearted wave. She then readied to begin shearing again, trying to keep her mind off of why Clara kept Ian around; even with those looks, she was surprised that the other woman’s patience hadn’t run out long ago.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

To Lorens, there was nothing really like being at home.

His cousins would tease him for it, which he figured was fine. It didn’t matter that he moved in with his mam’s sister and her family in Lerwick for secondary school, nor did it matter when he visited his dad’s sister and her family in Bathgate, because none of his cousins knew how good it was when he’d step off the ferry and finally be back on the island. It was almost nine years since he had lived regularly on North Ronaldsay, and he was eager to pick that back up again. It was the familiarity of it all: the clusters of buildings, the high-built drystane dyke that kept the sheep in their preferred pastures, the folks with whom he had grown up with and around…

...even if some of them were nuttier than a bag of cashews.

“Hi there, Mr. Morlo,” Lorens said as he ran into one person in particular. He remembered the Spring when Mr. Morlo was wrecked off the coast and taken in by the now-Mrs. Morlo, as he seemed to be fiddling with the lock to the school’s front door. The other man lit up at the sight of him, seemingly taken aback by his presence.

“Lorens, your parents didn’t tell us you were coming in,” he said. “How’s the gap year coming along?”

“I’m honestly surprised that I don’t smell permanently of fish,” Lorens chuckled weakly. “I’ve hauled enough mackerel to feed all of the island for at least two years, and probably a good chunk of Sanday on top of it.”

“Did you hear from uni yet? I can’t be the only hopeless academic on this island.”

“No, but I sent out my paper a while ago, so I expect to hear from someone soon, no matter what the answer might be,” Lorens shrugged. “I did what you said in regards to sourcing the poems—my old instructor in Lerwick loves it.”

“Well now that;s goo—hey! What do you think you’re doing here?!” Lorens looked over his shoulder and saw a fully-grown seal flopping its way across the pavement. “You know not to haul out in town! There’s bicycles and cars up here! I don’t care if the sheep are being dense!” Mr. Morlo ran after the seal as it lumbered around without caring it was being shouted at.

“Oh God, not again.” Lorens looked back towards the door to see Mrs. Morlo stepping over the threshold, staring exasperatedly at her husband. She then caught sight of Lorens himself and smiled kindly. It used to be that she was taller than him and now, well, he had even grown taller than her husband. “Well, this is a much better surprise. How are you doing?”

“Well—thought I’d surprise Mam and Dad with a visit while work’s shut down—a fire, of all things.”

“Yes, I read about that; it’s good to know that you’re alright and no… one… was… hurt…” She seemed distracted, as she was looking up and down the road. “Did you see where the kids went?”

“Were they supposed to be with Mr. Morlo…?”

“Please, you’re old enough—we’re Clara and Ian—now where are those two?”

“Mam! Mam! Mam!” Right on cue, Terra and Douglas came running up to their mother, the former pulling a toy wagon behind her. “Oh! Hi Mr. Lorens!”

“Kids,” Mrs. Morlo groaned, “why is there a seal pup in your wagon?”

“Her name is Bridget and she wants to visit the crofts!” Douglas said excitedly. The fuzzy seal barked and the boy nodded. “Yeah, that’s our mam, and that’s one of our sitters, Mr. Lorens. He doesn’t come by too often.”

“So you named the seal Bridget?” Lorens asked cautiously. Terra shook her head as importantly as any nine-year-old could.

“No—she told us that herself.” The seal pup barked again, seemingly happy. “Bridget Dagmarsdottir of Clan Gannet, yes, we know.”

“Kids!” Mr. Morlo shouted from down the road. “Is that Bridget?!”

“RUN!” Terra shouted, pulling away the toy wagon as fast as she could, her younger brother right behind. Mr. Morlo attempted to chase after them, yet however double-backed a few strides and handed his wife a set of keys.

“Please lock up I have to go before Dagmar eats a small dog in protest bye see you at home,” he said all in one breath before scurrying off, his arms flapping in the air. The hauled seal—the presumed Dagmar—flopped after him.

“So… they all talk to seals now…” Lorens noted. Clara exhaled heavily.

“Yeah.”

“Sheep still too?”

“Every bloody day.”

“You know… my auntie’s neighbor is a psychiatrist… his office has children’s and genetics specialists.”

“Your mum told me. Several times.”

“Just… erm… putting that out there…”

“I know… I’m not cross,” Mrs. Morlo said as she locked up the school. “Just very tired. These kids just need to slow down… but you know that.” She patted Lorens on the arm before beginning to walk down the road and out of town. “Depending on how long you’re here, ever consider stopping by to babysit?”

“I’ll give a firm maybe,” the young man laughed.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Hello! I hope you're doing wonderfully. Ok the petition is this... suspicious of a late late and unexpected baby. Only because I'd love to see 12th freaking freaking out in excitement while Clara is freaking freaking out of panic. I leave the choice of fic to you dear! All the love to you!

I am, as Nine would say, fantastic,thank you!

1376 words; takes place in the Seal Man of North Ronaldsay verse,which is in this tag and this AO3 series for the newcomers; takes place about amonth or so before Terra turns three

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Clara wasn’t exactly certain as to why she didn’t very wellthat particular day. She already felt like vomiting twice and was sore in oddplaces despite the fact it was only lunchtime. After firing off a text to Ianto check in (he and Terra both ended up being fine, despite the fact she hadrun off and hid in the garden on him again), she proceeded to ignore hersandwich and crisps in favor of only having some tea. She was able to make itthrough the remainder of the workday without slipping up, though she did happen to vomit in a hedge on herway home.

“Mummy!” Terra gasped the moment Clara entered the house.The preschooler barreled into her mother, nearly knocking her over onto the floor.“Are you okay?”

“Mummy’s fine, dear—go back to playing now, yeah?” Terrarushed back to the sitting room at that, freeing Clara to head towards thekitchen, where Ian was sitting with some scribbled notes and a fresh cuppa,leaning over the latter so that the steam hit his face. “Feeling any betteryourself?”

“Not entirely,” he sniffed. “I think this cold is nearlygone though; it’ll be good when I’m not constantly cold all the time. Do humansnormally have colds that last this long?”

“Not really, but you’re probably a special exception giventhe circumstances,” she replied. Clara poured herself some tea and sat down aswell, glancing over the papers on the table. “I thought you weren’t going toget back to work until after you felt better.”

“I’ve been down for over two months—I can’t afford to putthis off any longer,” he said sourly. “This paper will end up being a decentsupplement to your paycheck, and then we can put that addition on that youwanted plus put away for a familyholiday.” The selkie then glanced over at his wife and narrowed his eyes.“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t feel good myself,” Clara admitted. “It’s probablyjust that fermented fish we brought into class yesterday for the kids to tryfinally getting to me.”

“Whatever it is, I’d like us both to get better soon so wecan get back to… you know…” His hand found her knee and he gave her a bashfulsmile. “Terra’s going to be a good sister, don’t you think?”

“About that, Ian…” She exhaled heavily, discomfort apparentin her voice. “I’m not sure about that anymore. Terra would be fine, it’s notabout that, but I don’t know if I canhandle it right now. Maybe again in October, but not this very moment.”

“Why October?”

“So I can have the baby in the summer holiday, that’s why. Idon’t want to be off work for very long—they’re talking about giving me three grade levels next term.”

“Can they do that?”

“If they want to keep the school open, then yeah.” Clara clutchedher mug tightly, staring down at the milky tea. “I do want one more, don’t get me wrong, but since I’m not pregnant frombefore you caught the bloody cold of thedecade…”

“I understand,” Ian relented. “One day… just not today…because you can’t afford it with work, and we need to be able to afford thingsalong with the child we already have, right?”

“That’s a good way to sum it up, yeah,” she nodded. She tookhold of his hand and they continued on with their tea. They’d get there,eventually, and they were fine with that.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

She was ill again the following day.

Actually, Clara took notice of the fact that she did notfeel well the entire rest of the week. It was only that weekend, after missinga menstrual cycle, did she suspect that anything was going on. She took a testkit with her to the loo (thank God, Sjeh Mither, or whatever, for discreet packagingwhen ordering off the internet), coming out completely baffled.

She wasn’t ill—she was pregnant.

Frankly, it shouldn’t’ve been possible. She and Ian had stoppedtrying completely when he caught that ridiculous cold that had been making itsway around the island (impacting the human inhabitants much less severely), andshe knew she hadn’t been pregnant thanks to a doctor’s visit she went to in themeantime. Everything had come back negative except for the little stick in herhand—how…?

Ian found Clara that night in a completely flustered panicin their bedroom. He had just put Terra to bed, meaning they were alone.

“Is everything alright?” he wondered cautiously.

“Ian, I… oh, screw it: I’m pregnant,” she replied, cuttingto the gist of things. “I’m pregnant and I shouldn’t be and—”

“Oh Clara, that’s wonderful news,” he beamed. He picked herup in a hug that spun halfway around before putting her down. Taking a goodwhiff of his wife, the selkie grinned, “Yes, you definitely are. I wouldn’thave known had you not said so for about another week or so; this dumb cold,you know…”

“This is serious!” she snapped. “We haven’t had sex inmonths!”

“The baby just waited until it sensed I was beginning to gethealthy again to implant itself, which must mean that it can sense bothparents, and…”

“Wait, it what…?!”

“You mean… humans don’t… do… that… when… um… breeding…?”

“We do no such thing!”

“Huh, that’s odd, because that’s what seals do all the time,and I—” Ian was cut off by his tiny human wife emitting such an annoyed soundthat it sent a chill down his fae spine. “Is this one for the notecards?”

“Definitely one for the notecards,” she hissed, pointingtowards the writing desk in the corner of the room. He went over and took afresh card from one of the drawers, printing “Do not confuse seal and human physiology and/or natural processes”on it, stuffing it in with a small pile of other cards sitting on the desk,bound by a rubber band. He returned to her side, holding his arm out wide.

“Done,” he said. “I promise I’ll try not to delay-impregnateyou again.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, headbutting his chest as he hugged her.There was no denying how warm he was; warm and comfortable and smelling of thesea. He was more than just the father of her child—no, children—but he was her best friend and the one person she couldn’tstay cross at, not for a million, billion years. “Can we go to bed now? Ireally should get to bed, if I really am pregnant with your mutant seal-faechild… again.”

“We most certainly can, and you most certainly are,” Iangrinned. He picked up Clara and carried her to bed, climbing in afterwards touse her shoulder as a pillow while he laid there with his hand up her shirt,touching the bare skin of her stomach. “Now instead of trying in October, we’llbe changing nappies.”

“Don’t sound too happy about that,” she teased. She gentlytapped the back of his head as he craned his neck to kiss her throat—what anidiot. “Hey, Ian?”

“Yeah?”

“If this baby, um, behaved like a seal when it came tocoming into existence, does this mean that they will be a selkie like you?”

“Possibly, but nothing is for certain,” he said. “I musthave changed my mind over a dozen times when you were carrying Terra.”

“Now that I remember clearly.”

“At least one thing is for certain: they will be a littlebit of you and a little bit of me.” The door then creaked open and the mattressshifted slightly. “Speaking of… how’s our precious pup?”

“Daddy, under the bed,” Terra whined. She clung to herfather, who held her as he got out of bed.

“Let’s see what we can do to banish that wee imp once andfor all,” he said. He kissed his wife before bringing their daughter back toher room, determined to make the imaginary spirit vanish in the lass’s eyes.Clara laid alone in her room, putting a hand to the warm skin her husband hadjust touched.

It was earlier than expected, but she would takeit.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Or more semi-Selkie sibling stuff. Terra passes on her infinite elder sibling wisdom to little Douglas and...

Wow I haven’t written/posted anything in what feels likeages. O_o

939 words; I’m an older sister to a younger brother thriceover, meaning I get how this works; a reminder that The Seal Man of NorthRonaldsay, a Whouffaldi selkie AU, can be found in this tag, as well as on AO3and FFN; this takes place when Terra is 8 and Douglas is 4 (but an old 4 atthat)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the night before Douglas’s first day of school. Thelittle boy was bouncing off the walls in excitement, ready to face thefollowing day with his brand-new backpack and sneakers, irritating his sisterto no end.

“It’s just school, you know,” she frowned. She was readingin the sitting room while her brother was nearly rolling around on the rug. Withtheir parents in the kitchen doing some last-minute work before school startedin the morning, it was just the siblings in the room.

“I know it’s just school, but it’s exciting!” Douglas exclaimed. “I get to see the other kids from theisland my age all day, and I can seeyou and Mum whenever I want, and…”

“You can’t walk out of your class and into Mum’s wheneveryou feel like it,” Terra said. “It’s against the rules.”

“What if I don’t feel good, or I get so excited I… you know…”He crept over to her side and brought his voice down low. “…pee my pants.”

“Then you go to the school secretary and call Dad,” sheshrugged. “It’s not difficult.”

“Oh no!” the boy gasped. “What if Sjeh Mither comes while we’reat school! We’ll miss her!”

“…then we miss her. She comes back.” This was beginning towear on Terra’s nerves; all she wanted to do was read in her favorite spot onthe couch with her mug of cocoa and she couldn’t get any peace and quiet. Then the girl had an idea. “It’s probablybetter we miss Sjeh Mither anyhow… you know…”

“…know what?”

“You know… so that she doesn’t stay too long and Uaine Duine finds her.”

Douglas’s face went sheet-white. “Who…?”

“Uaine Duine, the Green Man, the natural enemy of SjehMither. Grass beats water, after all.”

“That’s in Pokémon!” the boy protested.

“Where do you think they got the idea?”

Now that made himthink. So that meant water fae were preyed upon by grass fae? Fire fae preyedupon grass and water on fire? Did that mean that fae in general were strongagainst dragons? Were there even any dragons left? The thought of a dragon, allflame and malice, on their little island made him shiver and a sort of weightdropped in his stomach. He crept up the stairs and climbed into his bed,grabbing his stuffed sheep and holding it close while he worried over SjehMither’s fate should the Green Man find her.

It took a while, but eventually his father came into thebedroom, looking for his boy. “Ah, there you are—Mam and I were wondering whereyou went.” He sat down on the edge of the boat-shaped bed that used to be Terra’sand stared at Douglas. “What’s the problem? You usually don’t hug Shirley thattight unless you’re scared of something.”

“Terra said that Sjeh Mither’s natural enemy is the GreenMan, like in Pokémon, and that he’ll catch her if she stays on land too long!”the boy sniffled. “Then the nuckelavee won’t ever be tame and we’ll be stuckhere and Granddad and Uncle Rigsy and Auntie Jen and Lucy and Chris won’t everbe able to come and visit ever again!”

“Wait, what…?” Ian asked, completely baffled. “When did yoursister tell you this?”

“Earlier when I was downstairs and she was too while she wasreading but I was too excited to read and…”

“Okay, hold up; I think I know what the problem is,” Iansaid, stopping his son. “Terra lied to you so that you would leave her alone.There is no Green Man… not here, anyhow.”

“…there isn’t…?”

“Nope; besides, even if there was one, he would not harmSjeh Mither. She’s the summer spirit, and Green Men can only survive in placesthat have some sort of summer. He would need her to survive. It’s Teran, thewinter spirit, that doesn’t like her.”

“Oh…” Douglas mused. “Well, then how about dragons?”

“Dragons? What about them?”

“Can faeries defeat dragons easily? You study them, so youknow, right? Do they?”

“Um… not exactly,” Ian replied. His children still didn’tknow about his true origins, meaning that he had to keep up the old scholar’sruse for a while yet. He shrugged though, figuring the truth was alright forthis one. “They’re not exactly bad,dragons are. I’ve met one that runs a rather nice antique shop in Soho,..though you can’t make her cross, or she’ll pull out something to hit you without of nowhere…”

“Dad, I’m being serious!”

“As am I.” He stroked his son’s fluffy curls and exhaledheavily. “You know that Terra’s simply upset because school used to be thething she shared with Mam, and now you’re encroaching on that. Don’t let hermake you feel bad, because it’s normal… or so I’m told.”

“It’s normal for Terra to be mean?”

“No; it’s normal for Terra to want you to… okay, so she isbeing mean, but it’s not because she wants to be so. Let her cool off and she’llbe her old self again soon enough.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He kissed his son’s forehead, transferring someprotective magic to him, and patted him on the shoulder. “Come on downstairs.Mam’s got some ice cream for your last night before school.”

“Awesome!” Douglas gasped. He tossed aside his sheep andbolted down the stairs, leaving his father to catch up at his own pace. Ianhoped that the kids would be able to get on while attending school together orelse there would be plenty of problems that he would have rather not dealtwith.

[nehswritesstuffs]

But it's Friday night! Ah screw it, dibs on the first prompt of the night! Semi-Selkie sibling shenanigans if you don't mind =)

I put ‘em up on a Friday (Nehs and ‘Pori Standard Time)since at that moment, it was already Saturday in a good chunk of the world, andbecause I wasn’t sure what my Saturday was going to be so I needed thingsready. Things were cool.

942 words; takes place when Terra’s about five and Douglasis two; while I am able to do something with this, I also sometimes grasp atstraws and fail when it comes to similar prompts, just as a reminder to somefolks; contains phonetically-spelled toddler-speak, so please be warned myfriends

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One of the things that Clara enjoyed the most about teachingwhere her daughter went to school was that they were able to walk to and fromHollandstoun together with nothing bothering them. There and back, with anotherround trip for lunch—it was good for them, and facilitated conversation withouthaving the pressure of anyone else around to butt in.

“Mum? Why are we different?”

…though sometimes, it wasn’t exactly easy.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” Clara wondered. “Is it becauseDad and I don’t sound like the other parents?”

“No, not that,” Terra said, shaking her head. “Dad isdifferent, Douglas is different, I’mdifferent, but I don’t know why.”

Her mother’s hear skipped a beat. “What makes you think thatyou’re different?”

“I get the feeling that Sjeh Mither doesn’t visit everyone,and no one believes me when I say I can talk to the sheep, or that Dad talks tothe seals.”

“That’s because of things far beyond our control, sweetie,”Clara frowned. “Your father’s different than the other dads at school, andthat’s fine. It’s just…”

“What, Mum?”

“It’s just something that’s a bit complicated to explain,”she finished. It was complicated,attempting to explain to a half-fae child that they weren’t fully human tobegin with, something that her peers took for granted, but it was something tosave for another day. “Say, why don’t you run ahead and see what Douglas isdoing? I’m sure he’s outside in the garden.”

“Okay, Mum,” Terra said. She slid her backpack off andhanded it to Clara, scurrying ahead of her and rushing towards the garden gate.Ignoring the magical crackling that enveloped her in a protective ward thatkept Unseelies and other such nasties away from the house, she went through thegate and searched for her brother, who was in an empty flower bed. He wasplaying with the pillbugs, poking them so that they rolled up and allowing thebolder ones to crawl along his fingers.

“Tehwah!” he grinned, holding up a terrified pillbug. “Wook!”

“That’s mean,” she frowned. Terra took the insect fromDouglas’s hand and placed it back in the soft, cool dirt. “You have to be nice to bugs.”

Douglas made an irritated noise—he didn’t like the idea, buthe didn’t fight his sister on this one. She was bigger, and bigger meant shecould pick him up and drag him to Mummy and Daddy. He rolled in the dirtinstead, getting all sorts of grime on his clothes and in his brown curls.

“Douglas!” Terrascolded, putting her fists on her hips. “You know you shouldn’t do that!” Thegirl then watched as her brother stood up on his still-slightly-wobbly legs andbounced over towards another spot in the garden, this one a small lean-toagainst the wall that he crawled under, assuming she would not follow him. Thetoddler was proven wrong when she popped up at the other end of the lean-to,sticking her face in to scold him properly.

“Go way,” Douglas insisted. He curled up amongst the deadleaves and long grass, not caring how filthy he got. “Tehwah no pway, so Tehwahgo way.”

“I wanted to know if you wanted to go visit the sheep,” hissister said. Almost instantly, the little boy perked up, his eyes sparkling inexcitement.

“Sheeps! Sheeps!” he screeched. Douglas crawled out fromunder the lean-to and climbed onto Terra’s back, holding on tight as she ranover to the ladder that was against the sea wall. The one on the garden sidewas rather short, though the one on the beach side was very tall—taller thanDad—and Terra had to be very careful when climbing down because the sand madeit a little wobbly. She got down safely and Douglas leapt off her, lookingaround frantically for the ovines he wanted to see so desperately.

“Hold my hand, okay?” Terra requested. Her brother took herhand and they walked together along the beach, straying not far from the ladderuntil they saw a group of five that were munching idly on some beached kelp.

“Sheeps! Hi!”

they responded.

“We don’t eats kelps,” Douglas giggled. “Kelps for sheeps.”He carefully ran his hand over the nearest sheep’s coat, marveling at it. “Fwuffy!”

“We can’t, or else we’ll spoil teatime and dinner,” Terraexplained. “Thank you anyway.”

“Ride, please?!” Douglas requested. The smallest sheepbleated in acceptance and knelt down, allowing the toddler to climb upon itsback. Another stopped eating and bent down for Terra, and the two sheep beganquickly shuffling around on the wet beach, making the siblings cackle indelight. Their mirth was short-lived, however, when their father’s face poppedup over the sea wall. He seemed worried at first, but when he figured out whathis children were up to…

“Alright, off the mutant ponies,” he ordered, using hiscross voice. He climbed the ladder and shooed away the sheep before crouchingdown before his children. “What did I tell you about the beach without Mam orme?”

“Don’t do it,” Douglas sniffled.

“We were being careful though, Dad!” Terra insisted. “Wedidn’t even eat the kelp this time!”

“Come on; let’s get back to the house,” Ian said. He pickedup Douglas and held his hand out for Terra, which she sadly took. “We can comeback another time—right now we’re getting ready to call Granddad.”

“Oh, okay,” Terra solemnly nodded.

“Bye sheeps! Wayter!” Douglas called out, wavinganimatedly. The sheep bleated in reply; another day, Boy. Another day.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Selkie AU! Little Terra and Lucy meeting for the first time when Rigsy's family comes to visit the island again.

If giving wee Lucy idkbffs isn’t part of why someoneis making Whouffaldi babies, then priorities need to be examined.

1134 words; this is all over the place and I do apologize

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Lucy Susann Riggins, get down from there before you fall off!”

At the sound of her full name, Lucyhopped down off the ferry railing and went back to sit next to her mum. Sheslumped in her seat, letting her legs dangle, kicking the air grumpily. Eversince Mummy and Daddy said she was going to get a baby brother, Lucy noticedthat there was a lot less fun going on and she was the one who was sufferingthe most. It was Chris’s room thatwas getting redecorated, it was Chriswho was going to need all the things they were bringing home, and it was Chris who was getting all her old toysand blankets and stuff that she stillwanted, darn it! He was even about a month away yet and he was still making it so that he was thecenter of attention, with Mummy always fussing over her large tummy. Lucypouted the entire rest of the trip across the choppy sounds and firths beforeDaddy picked her up and placed her back in the car.

This was going to be an importantholiday, Mummy and Daddy had said when they packed up the car and started thelong drive north to Auntie Clara and Uncle Ian’s. While Lucy didn’t reallybelieve Mummy, she did believe Daddy.She was going to meet her cousin Terra in-person for the first time, not justover Skype, and that did seem pretty neat. Mummy said that playing with Terrawould get her ready for when Chris was born, and that seemed considerably lessneat, plus it did not make sense. A cousin was different than a brother, andAuntie Clara and Uncle Ian’s was different from home, or Gran’s, or anywhereelse they normally went. She watched the scenery go by as they drove throughHollandstoun and along the barely-worn path that went over towards theirdestination. The car was barely in park when Lucy jettisoned herself from thevehicle and ran into the arms of the tall man coming out of the house.

“Uncle Ian!” she squealed in delight. Hegave her a kiss on the cheek and held her up high above his head, spinning heraround. “I misseded you, Uncle Ian!”

“Pup, you’re getting so big,” he marveled, bringing her backdown to rest against his hip. Ian then approached the car to greet the adultsin the party, giving them understanding looks. “How was the ride? The newestone didn’t make you stop too often, did he?”

“Thankfully not, but I think the loowould be a safe thing about now,” Jen said. She went inside, leaving herhusband and their host to take care of the luggage.

“She is brutal this time around,” Rigsy said quietly while unloading theboot. “Lucy was a joy, but Chris…”

“At least you know it’s not really her,and that it’s all worth it,” Ian said. He allowed Lucy to wriggle free so shecould climb into the back seat and gather her things. Taking a bag from Rigsy,he led him into the house and up the stairs, to the guest bedroom they hadstayed in before. “You and Jen can sleep here.”

“What about me, Uncle Ian?” Lucy asked. The two men turned around to see herstanding with her Backpack of Very Important Things and a wide-eyed expression.

“You get to stay in the nursery withTerra,” Ian explained. “She’s napping now and isn’t very fun, but would youlike to see her?”

Lucy’s eyes nearly sparkled withanticipation. Her honorary uncle dutifully took her hand and led her towardsone of the rooms she wasn’t allowed in last time. He slowly opened the door andthey crept in, careful not to make much noise.

As the three-year-old crept towards thecot, she studied the baby laying in it carefully. Terra looked a lot like thelittle brothers and sisters that kids had at daycare, but there was somethingabout her, something she couldn’t say, that made her different. It was sort oflike the same thing that made Uncle Ian different, and she guessed that madesense, since Terra was Uncle Ian’s daughter. She knew that Terra was six monthsold—Mummy and Daddy had told her on the drive up—but she still looked so tiny.

“Your peedie wee cousin, just aspromised,” Ian said. Lucy watched him as he fawned over the baby, seeing thatthere was a look in his eyes that she didn’t understand. He rubbed her tummy inorder to wake her up, with Terra fussing as she realized she was no longerasleep. Uncle Ian picked the baby up and bounced her in his arms, calming heralmost instantly. “Would you like to hold her?”

“Yes, please,” Lucy replied. She put herbackpack down and sat in the rocking chair, being very careful as she waspassed her cousin. Terra looked up at her in wonder, not entirely certain whatwas going on. “Wow, she’s heavy… and bigger than she looks sleeping.”

“I think she’s a good baby to practicewith for when your brother comes, hmm?”

“No,” she muttered. “Terra’s funner thanChris will be. A sister would be funner than a brother for me, right?”

“I never had brothers or sisters, but I cantell you that it shouldn’t matter if Chris is a brother or a sister. I thinkyou two will have fun, just like you and Terra will have fun.” He grabbed astuffed sheep from a pile of toys and handed it to Lucy. “Here, this is herfavorite.”

“Oh, okay,” Lucy agreed. She beganbouncing the sheep up and down, humming a tune as Uncle Ian turned hisattention to Daddy.

“Clara still at work?” Rigsy asked.

“She’ll be back for lunch; but in themeantime, we’ve got the little ones to watch over,” Ian said. The men watchedtheir daughters silently, glad there was no fussing and no pouting for thefirst time that day.

“Look at that—Lucy’s a natural,” herfather chuckled.

“Wouldn’t be if my Terra wasn’t such agood-natured one.”

“You kidding? It’s Lucy’s sister skillsbudding early.”

“…because Terra isn’t a screaming terror…”

WhileUncle Ian and Daddy bickered, just like they did all the time, Lucy watched asTerra began to yawn and go to sleep again, not having fully finished hernaptime. She caught sight of the play cot on the other side of the room andcarried Terra over. She crawled in herself, trying her best to not wake thebaby in her arms, and was able to get them both in. Lucy laid down next to hercousin and decided to take a nap as well. Yeah, babies weren’t all bad, sheguessed.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Hm. Back to the Selkie AU, mayhaps? Lil Terra meets her baby brother?

Selkie AU~

1436 words; takes place three days after the end of thisprompt; new to the Celtic wereseal goodness? The entire story can be found inthis tag, or at this AO3 dingus (will begin crossposting the prompts soon), andfor some background in selkies, a cursory glance on wiki is always advised

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Terra snapped awake, making to go grab her stuffed sheeponly to find it wasn’t there. A moment of panic washed over her until sherealized why her toy wasn’t in the confines of her bed: it was with Mummy andDaddy on the Mainland. Shaun was a very good sheep, even if Daddy found theidea to be “preposterous to the point of absurdity”, whatever that was supposedto mean, and he was going to watch over Mummy and her new sibling when Daddyhad to sleep.

Crawling up to her knees, Terra grabbed for her clock—an oldthing that went tick-tick-tick-tickand would still count time if the power went out, Daddy promised. The tip ofher tongue stuck out as she furrowed her brow in concentration, dragging herfinger along the glass-encased face as she figured out the time. It wasfour-forty-four in the morning, which was too early to wake up Granddad, butsomehow was early enough for her towake up. She climbed out of bed and turned on the lamp, determined to make thebest of it.

It didn’t take long for her to get dressed and ready; she’dbeen practicing with Mummy and Daddy so they didn’t have to help her. Being abig sister meant that she was definitelya big girl, and big girls didn’t need help putting on their jumpers. Terra tookher stuffed animals and placed them all by the window, having them stare out ofit—the agreed-upon sign that she went outside—and bounced as she made her waydown the stairs towards the garden door. Boots on, as well as jacket and hat,and she quietly slipped out into the dark morning armed with a torch and herown sense of wonder.

Poking around in the garden, Terra didn’t find much ofanything. There were a couple bugs still skittering and sliding about, whilekittiwakes and skuas made some of their last early-morning rounds beforebeginning their migration for the winter, but nothing that was really neat was happening. She sat down on arock and wondered why it was she was up—usually whenever she woke up beforeGranddad, it was for a reason.

Mither!>

Terra squealed in delight and ran over towards the part ofthe garden wall that faced the sea. The sheep were nearby, bleating theiradoration for Sjeh Mither, which only could have meant that the fae in-questionwas there. The little girl held onto the torch with her teeth as she climbedthe ladder to poke her head over the top of the wall. Sure enough, there wasSjeh Mither, kneeling in the seafoam as she affectionately stroked thecreatures’ wool coats. She glanced up and saw Terra watching them, chucklingbefore beckoning her over.

“Come here, hybrid daughter,” she requested. Terra easedherself over the wall like Daddy taught her and scaled the other ladder to getdown to the beach. She ran up to Sjeh Mither and gave her a hug; there hadalways been something about the Sjeh Mither that made Terra feel warm and safe,and now was no different. The ocean lapped at her boots as she stepped back tosee the fae goddess, knowing that neither of them could help the fact one wasvery small and the other was very tall.

“Are you leaving for the southern seas, Sjeh Mither?” Terraasked.

“That I am, and I thought I would come by to bid everyonefarewell for now,” Mither replied gently. She bent down and carefully kissedTerra’s hat, letting magic wash over her. “It is a shame I cannot meet the hybridson before I depart—the Mainland is not often a place for me these days.”

“Hybrid son…?” Terra tilted her head to the side, her eyesgrowing wide. “Does this mean I have a brother?”

“It is,” Mither affirmed. She held her hand out, palmtowards the sky, and an image appeared for Terra to see. It was Mummy and Daddyin a tiny room together, with Daddy holding a bundle of blankets up against hischest. “You have a responsibility now, to be a good sister and friend; you arethe Earth, whilst he is the Water, and no mortal shall rival your friendship.”

“Am I the Earth because Mummy said I was named for theEarth?” Terra wondered.

“In a ways—you are the steadfast one, the one whoseconvictions will stay strong and hearty, even if your opinions change. To bethe Earth is to be a rock for others, a safe place for them to go when they arein peril.”

“…but what if I were the Water?”

“While Water can wear at the Earth, making it bow in time,it also can protect, defending the safe place as well as any warrior. Remember:there is no shame in bowing when the time is right, and that the Earth stillgives Water much that it cannot obtain itself. Even the seal needs a place torest.”

“Okay…?” Terra scrunched her nose and thought about that.Usually Sjeh Mither didn’t talk to only her alone, and when they did talk,Mummy or Daddy was around to say sort of what the fae goddess meant. It allsounded very complicated, but the girl knew she was very clever for beingthree-and-a-half and that it would make sense later. She held her hand perpendicularto her chest, just like how Mummy and Daddy taught her, and bowed. “I hope youhave fun on your holiday visiting your cousin. I wish I could holiday with mycousin all winter long too.”

“Yemoja and I do not differ from your mortal cousin and youin many ways, that is true, yet it should also be understood that it is thedifferences that make us who we are.” Sjeh Mither patted Terra on the head andgave her a kind smile. “Believing-mortal and hybrid children alike need tolearn the workings of the mortal world, so that knowledge can be used toprevent the likes of Yemoja and me from vanishing from people’s hearts.”

“I won’t forget you, ever,”Terra insisted. Sjeh Mither chuckled, amused at the small child before her.

“Then go be the Earth, hybrid daughter, and welcome theWater with open arms.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

An hour and a half later, Dave Oswald woke up languidly,stretching the sleep from his limbs. He was always so cold when he came to visit his daughter, and that morning was noexception. Glancing at his mobile, he saw there was a text left by Ian ages agoat that point, having gone past him thanks to putting the timed silencer on.

‘douglas evan morlo,born @ 4:44 this morning’ Attached was a photo of a rather irritated-lookingbaby who seemed ready to be on the verge of an ear-piercing wail. He smirked atthe notion, considering every newborn he’d ever met was such a creature.

“Terra? You awake yet? I think you might want to see this…”He got out of bed and shuffled over to his granddaughter’s bedroom, not stillfully awake. When he saw the toys staring out the window, he grumbled andattempted to not tumble down the stairs. Letting a child her age roam so freelydown in Blackpool would have been grounds to lock up Ian and Clara both, buthere on the quiet little island, it was not much a problem.

After slipping on a coat and shoes, Dave took a torch andwent outside into the garden. When he couldn’t see Terra in any of the usualplaces, he climbed two steps up the ladder along the seawall and poked his headover. There the girl was, riding one of the near-wild sheep in the seafoam,while otters scurried about and all sorts of birds were flying. He cleared histhroat, catching her attention.

“Granddad! You’re awake!” Terra squealed. “I’m hungry!”

“If you come back inside with me, I can show you a photo ofthe baby while you eat,” he offered.

“I want to see my baby brother!” she gasped. Terra nearlyfell off the sheep, running over and up the ladder soon as her feet hit thesand. She hopped into Dave’s arms, who carried her inside in relief.

“How did you know you had a brother?” he asked. He put hisgranddaughter down on the kitchen floor and watched as she began to growinward. “Terra? Did you just guess?”

“I just knew,” she said. It wasn’t a lie, evenif it wasn’t the truth. “What’s for breakfast?”