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empressgeekt · 3 months

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Trolls - Amnesia-Rock-Prince!Branch in An Arranged Marriage Au - Role Reversal Au (part 2)

Okay, so I highly suggest reading the first part. Underneath the same title, just make sure it's labeled "Role Reversal Au (part 1)"

Char = Branch

And Creek hasn't betrayed anyone...yet...

Char has complicated emotions, about letting the Pop trolls on board. On one hand he wants to help them, but he isn't sure if it's because they were in trouble or because he's a pop troll too. He's always had issues with his genre identity, always worried about what people would think if they knew about his bio-genre. He's not sure if helping these people is a way of his instincts finally coming back...he decides he'd blame it on the fact that the Princess had a little kid with her. He's soft on kids.

On the other side of things, Poppy and the others are getting looked over by a field medic/nurse, an oddly shiny dark blue troll named Jovi, who is much more talkative then the rest of the crew on board. Poppy decides she likes him, even if she felt a little weirded out when he bowed to her, and addressed her formally. The others tease her slightly, about her reaction to it. Creek comments that it was odd. Jovi asks why shouldn't he be respectful to a Princess, as he had no right to address her casually, and also takes a chance to warn them about addressing Char or Barb in such a way. They all have minor burns from the hot ground, but Guy continues to get travel sick. Jovi leaves to call his aunt about an incoming patient, making everyone worried about Guy. And Val walks in to take Poppy to Char.

Poppy's worried about meeting the Prince again, but Val calms her worries, saying that Char only really gets violent in public settings, and that he's much more chill with private ones, besides Poppy was equal rank to him so she didn't have to worry much about getting hit with a guitar. This doesn't comfort Poppy in the slightest. They arrive to a room with a bunch of ripped up couches and a sloppy throne on the far side of it.

Char is in there talking with Demo, but he dismisses both him and Val once Poppy is there. Letting his guard down, and relaxing, then offering her a drink. It's a shift that Poppy wasn't expecting. They talk. Char said he doesn't approve of her choice of diplomat when he mentions Creek. Poppy apologizes for him, once again stating that they truly do need help. Char said that he understood, but he needs more context. Poppy tells him all about the Bergens and Char, is trying really hard not to freak out, by connecting a lot of dots between his childhood nightmares and the current sitaution these Pop trolls are in. Poppy asks for help trying to save everyone from the bergens.

Char: you mean all the people who are most likely eaten? You honestly think their still alive?

Poppy: I don't think their alive. I hope their alive and that's enough.

Char thinks she's crazy for this, but he says that it isn't his call if they storm the bergen kingdom, and that Poppy will have to plead to his sister for that, but he has connections that he can use to look for other pop trolls, and he'll keep her friends safe in the city.

Once inside the city, Char takes Poppy to Barb and Thrash. Poppy is a bit thrown off at how violent the Rock queen is, and how formal the siblings first appear to each other, but she likes Thrash, finding the old man sweet. She also likes Riff, dude just happily there.

Barb doesn't know what to do in this situation, never has a genre nearly gone extinct. (with exception of disco, but they never had a string so it didn't matter) Thankfully, Thrash is mostly conscious that day, and is able to advise, telling his children to consult with the the Black Sabbath, the Rock Troll's religious leader/historian on options. The Black Sabbath, asks Poppy about the state of her people's string, but she has no idea what he's talking about triggering a history lesson by the elder troll, eventually revealing the Rock string for the princess to see. Poppy asks what does she do, and the Black Sabbath says the first step is to secure her people's string, the second is that they find a place/way to establish a place for any survivors to flock too. Char can tell that the older troll has a way to do the second part and asks that he spills. The Black Sabbath tells them that the most obvious, way would for the Prince and Poppy to tie the knot. And even after he explains how this would unite both genres ensuring the safety of both groups, it doesn't change the awkward atmosphere he's created.

Later, Poppy rejoins the rest of the Snack Pack at the hospital, where they were sent to recover. Everyone is happy to see her, all of them now clade in boots and gloves to protect their hands and feet. Keith practically climb up her leg. Guy's teary eyed on a gurney, but it for a good reason. The doctors confirm he's pregnant, and even if Guy wishes his partner was here to know about it, its the first bit of good news they have in a while. Creek says that despite their rather unsettling appearance Rock Trolls are good enough hosts, and then he asks what happened with the Queen. Poppy simply, says "I'm getting married" much to the confusion of everyone.

However, once she explains what the plan is going forward. Everyone is rather upset. With exception of Keith. Creek especially. After all his work to befriend and charm the princess would be for nothing if she married someone else. Poppy, says that she doesn't want to do this, but it's their only option going forward, if they wanted help restoring everything they lost to the Bergens then this needs to happen, and as princess it's her job to make it right. Creek turns up the silent treatment, and it makes Poppy feel bad, but she's too busy with help her friends settle, and they are more then will to help with her wedding, the twins volunteering to make her dress and Biggie wanting to be the photographer.

Living in Volcano Rock City is certainly an adjustment. the city is nearly five-times as large as Pop Village, and its baffling to not know everyone around you as a friend. Rock trolls are also more quiet and stoick, at least not when their raving. There aren't three holidays a week, no one breaks out into song and dance. There are concerts but it isn't the same, they have instruments on stage and there music is far more expressive, with emotions such as sadness and anger being expressed rather then just joy. Creek calls them barbarians, and it makes Poppy upset. Could he not bite at the hand that's feeding him? The twins, find work at a seemtress' shop, but they are a little upset with the lack of color choices. Biggie also finds work at a photo shop. Smidge and Fuzzbert are probably the ones thriving most, construction requires a lot of strength and smarts with dealing with a large city of made of metal and rock. DJ, ends up as a stage hand due to her knowledge of music equipment, working with a nice rock troll named Demo. Guy stays at the home with Cooper and Keith, waiting for his egg to arrive and keeping the others out of trouble.

Poppy has no idea was Creek is doing, but her days are filled with study and planning. Apparently, getting married to a prince of rock is a lot more complicated then it seems. She needs to understand the inner workings of the rock tribe, as well as what they know of the other tribes, because Barb has ordered that they start reaching out to the other genres to ensure stability. Not to mention she's looking for any surviving pop trolls. Ironically, she's completely forgotten to get to know her new fiancé.

So, Poppy askes to follow him around for a day. She learns a lot, apparently, deep down he's really sweet and considerate, but he puts up a harsh front because that what's expected from him, and he's not comfortably showing himself to strangers. Poppy also feels very touched, when she meets the K-pop gang and Reggaetón trolls and learns that Char asked them to find other Pop trolls. By the end of the day Char invites her over for dinner. She accepts and finds herself in a much more casual setting then she anticipated. Char and Barb both cook dinner talking with their father in the kitchen, Poppy tries to help, but she doesn't know half of the ingredients. After the meal, they gather in a game room, and play through out the night. She laughs at the competitive sibling banter between Barb and Char. She also laughs at all the pictures of little Char doing kid things.

After Barb takes Thrash to bed, Char takes Poppy to his room to talk. Poppy asks why they didn't have any pictures of him as a baby, and teasing asking if he burned them all. Char shook his head and began explaining his adoption, and that they didn't know where he came from. Poppy takes this info in and is suddenly even more impressed with their family dynamic. It also reminds her of how close she was to her dad, and how she will most likely never see him again. She tries not to break down, but Char allows her to sob and grieve. She wakes up in his bed the next morning, with Char sleeping on his sofa nearby.

The others were worried about her when she didn't come home that night, but the girls coo over how sweet Char had been with Poppy. Creek comes in, still annoyed about Char, and says that her father would want her to be happy. Poppy thanks Creek, but something about that statement doesn't sit right with her. The others decide that it's a good idea to invite Char over for dinner to repay the favor.

Char accepts the invitation, after Poppy said it was casual event. And arrives early, Keith greeting him at the door. Poppy would find, Char and keith inthralled in a conversation, and Char even makes the trolling laugh, which is astounding to Poppy. Keith was always blank to her. Char shrugged when asked how he managed that, saying that he knew what it was like to be that weird kid and sometimes they just needed to be heard for who they are. Dinner is an odd mix of joy and slight discomfort. Char's dry sense of humor isn't really what they understood as jokes, but they eventually get into the swing of things. Especially when Biggie mentions issues with his boss, apparently the old troll was letting pre-justice towards pop getting to his head and hasn't been paying biggie equally. Char says that shouldn't be happening and says he'll take care of it, but Biggie needs to learn to stand up for himself. Creek chimes in saying that fighting a work place won't help the situation, Biggie would be better off befriending his boss. This strikes up a tense conversation where Char and Creek shoot quiet jabs as they discuss...which is bought to an abrupt halt when Guy Diamond suddenly goes into labor. Tiny is born on their dinning room floor, not even 15 minutes later, barely enough time for Biggie to rush Keith out of the room, much less call a doctor. When Barb asks Char how the even went, he'd forever relish the expression she made when he said, "It went great, talked a lot, ate good food, made a kid laugh, and delivered a baby."

Eventually the Reggaetón Trolls would stumble upon a golf-course full of near feral pop trolls. Viva welcomes them in, Clay by her side. Tresllio asks that they speak in private, and then explains the situation about the Pop genre to the Puttputt leaders, and the offer that Queen Barb has to start a new pop settlement near by the Rock kingdom. Viva starts freaking out her PTSD kicking in when she hears that and entire village, the friends and loved ones that they all thought lost years ago, had been found again and most likely eaten. However, Clay listens more closely and learns about the type of weapons and protection that the Rock trolls offered and how it was better then anything the golf-course had. it takes a lot of convincing, and one mention of Poppy for Viva to agree to meet with Queen Barb, and the condition that Clay comes with her for moral support.

Meanwhile, Floyd is kidnapped off the streets by the K-pop gang. He wakes up in a van and giftwrapped to the point of being paralyzed. He doesn't get as well of an explanation other then that they were told to find pop trolls to preserve the genre from near extinction and that doesn't make him feel more safe. While traveling they pass through the Neverglade trail and kidnap one John Dory, who also is giftwrapped and sat next to his brother like a little pile of presents. He's less annoyed with the situation then Floyd, because it means that one of his brothers is alive. Now Floyd has to deal with being kidnapped and a brother who's trying to hug him despite his arms being tied down.

The day of Char and Poppy's wedding comes all to soon. It's a grand event, the entire city in attendance and televised for those who couldn't make it. Cooper would walk Poppy down, and Keith is the ring bearer. He and Char had grown really close since the night of the "Eventful" dinner, becoming a big/little brother duo, Barb getting in on the action even joking about adopting the kid. The ceremony goes smoothly, but all three royal (+keith) are all called away from the reception, because other Pop trolls have been found and are waiting to meet them.

Viva and Clay arrive the same time and JD and Floyd do. Clay and Floyd have a happy reunion with Viva clapping on the side lines. JD's happy to see clay alive, but his younger brother is still mad at him. Barb greets them first, thanking them for coming. Viva jumps straight to the point wanting to know if her sister is here. Barb tells the guards to bring in Poppy, and that leads to a freaky reunion where Poppy learns about Viva. The wedding is brought up in convo, and Viva feels awful about missing it and making Poppy leave in the middle of it. Poppy reassures her that's its fine and then Viva asks to meet her husband. Char walks in holding Keith.

Clay, Floyd and JD freeze, all of them believing at some point that their little brother was dead, and now ere being presented with an adult around the right age and having the exact same eyes as their baby sibling. JD not reading the room, starts calling to "Branch" and greets him with rather confusing and inappropriate gestures. Barb grabs him and gets him off of Char before he either falls over or drops Keith. Clay tries to greet Char too, but quickly realizes that he doesn't recognize them. This makes JD goes straight into denial, not wanting to believe that his brother would forget them. Floyd comes up and asks Char if he knows them. He's the only one that Char vaguely recognizes, but he doesn't know from where. The stress of the situation makes him collapse, only barely handing Keith over to Poppy before going down.

While waiting for word from the doctor, confrentations happen between the families. Brozone is shocked to hear, Barb call herself and Keith, Char's "Brother and sister" and Barb gets pissed at them when she learns why Char was left alone at such a young age. Poppy and Viva watch the drama from the side-lines until Cooper shows up wanting to check on his sister and new BIL, leading to Viva learning about her own adopted brother...and what happened to her dad. When Char wakes up only Poppy, Keith and Barb are allowed in the room.

They contemplate the situation...and I'm out of plot ideas from here.

Probably their would be interactions with the other tribe leaders in a way to create stability, and try to patiention for creature rights with other giant beings. And of course reuniting the Funk family, but I don't really have a major plot for this right now. Hope yells enjoyed.

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 4 months

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The Fire & The Selkie

In the ocean, especially this far North, warmth can be hard to find and harder to keep. But a spark starts on an island, far into the frigid waters. Will it flicker out, smothered by the winds and the mist? Will it ignite? Or, will it burn everything to ash?

Main character; Keith Howell

Content; Gender-neutral reader (they/them pronouns), maritime and selkie shenanigans

Content Warnings; Swearing, some fear

Word Count; 2.9K

You should have heeded the elders' warnings.

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning.”

But you couldn’t afford not to go out on the water, and an old rhyme wasn’t about to dissuade you from missing out on earning some money from checking the crab lines and cast nets.

But now, several hours away from the safety of dry land, you found yourself fighting the waves and winds to keep your boat from capsizing. And with no crew, you were burning both from the cold, and exhaustion. You knew that if you survived this storm, you would most likely be sick if not with a cold, but also hypothermia.

It wasn’t the time to imagine the consequences of today if you didn’t live long enough to see tomorrow.

You spat out the salty water from your mouth and braved the storm. This was hardly your first one, but a dread weighed you down. The quiet part of your conscience, a part that was much older, was screaming caution.

Not caution about the storm, but of something else.

Nothing but fishing tales made larger than life. Is what the rational part of your brain argued, but it was unsure.

While there was no such thing as monsters that lay in wait under the waters waiting for a boat to devour, you did know that if you were to capsize, you wouldn’t be coming out of the water alive. The frigid water would sap all warmth from you, and you would slowly sink to the bottom. The only evidence of you being a destroyed boat drifting to some coastline.

You gritted your teeth as a particularly freezing wind blew back the hood of your coat, causing your eyes to sting from the salt in the air. You didn’t even bother trying to fix it, knowing that it would be a fruitless endeavour trying to keep it up — you could use that energy elsewhere.

You gripped onto the wheel tightly, barely being able to feel it, and pressed forward.

Did you know where you were going? Not in the slightest. If you didn’t at least steer into the waves, the only place you would be going was Davy Jones’ locker, where many of your more reckless and overly confident community members had found themselves before.

Some would say you were reckless and overly confident as well, it was always a calculated risk. Even today.

Just today was by far the largest risk you had taken yet, but the potential yield from those traps and lines would be able to not just feed your community but also could prove to change your life from being just an errand runner, to finally running your own boat.

To finally be a captain of a crew, and not being some lackey for the drunkard in town. To be the one making orders yet still treating your crew fairly. To be fully in charge of your own life and not be at the mercy of others.

A flash of lightning struck the horizon, providing a blinding light in the darkness that was the storm. And from that darkness, you could just make out a tall, dark mass that pierced from the ocean.

Please, please, please. You silently begged the sky to send another bolt of light to illuminate the way. Just long enough for you to figure out how to navigate there.

BOOM!

A crash of thunder. Any second now, light would follow.

As if answering your call, lightning danced throughout the sky, just long enough for you to steer the boat to face the island.

Fighting the waves, and screaming back at the howling winds, you were also laughing like a madman, all sense of sensibility — and perhaps sanity — thrown out the window. The time for that was long gone, and you were rapidly running out of both energy and willpower, but also gas. The needle tipping right above zero.

It was a last-ditch effort, and you didn’t slow down as the boat practically crashed into the rocks at shore.

Another boom and flash of lightning seemed to congratulate you on surviving and welcome you to the island. And while you were relieved that by some stroke of luck that you had made it through the storm and made it to some semblance of land, you also knew that this island — a speck in the middle of a frigid sea — was not just a lifeline, but also a death sentence if you couldn’t call for help, or someone didn’t find you.

But fighting the panic that was starting to build in your chest, and threatened to choke your breath, you hauled the boat further up shore to where the waves and the thick mist couldn’t reach, and flipped it to the side, watching water pour out. Once only a few drips trickled out, you flipped it upside down, creating an artificial cave, blocking out the roar of the wind, and the outside world.

After hours of noise, the relative quiet made your ears ring. But you couldn’t relax just yet, knowing that if you fell asleep now, you wouldn’t wake up.

Adjusting the boat — how a dingy piece of metal managed the storm avoided you — you shuffled like some absurd hermit crab to where you could place the damned (or blessed?) piece of metal so you could get some airflow.

To survive, you needed fire, but you also didn’t want smoke inhalation to be the death of you, nor hypothermia.

You poked around in the few storage containers you had on board since they were the only dry things you had on hand. A pot, a steel wool sponge, some batteries, and a threadbare blanket, that was what you were willing to sacrifice.

“Come on,” you whispered, a white cloud escaping from your mouth, “work for me.”

You placed the battery on the steel wool sponge and mentally sighed in relief as you saw it slowly turning red before catching on fire. Gently, you placed the small fire on the blanket, anxiously waiting for it to spread.

Soon, the cold from the hours of exposure was traded for the warmth of a fire. But the burning from the cold was replaced with shivering that shook your whole body.

Knowing that it would take much longer for you to warm up if you kept on the layers of soaking fabric, you gently peeled away the layers until you were just wearing the slightly damp thermal leggings and top.

Scooting closer to the fire you made yourself comfortable, as comfortable as you could knowing that finding help was nearly impossible and sat there, knowing better than to fall asleep.

…

Sometime throughout the night, you had drifted to sleep from exhaustion and the comforting warmth of the fire. The cawing of sea birds waking you from a dreamless sleep.

The storm had passed, but it had left its mark.

You had bruises, the aching kind that would definitely be an ugly shade of purple and oh so tender, and now in the weak light of day, you could see large dents on the boat, from where the waves had continuously struck at the haul.

Crawling out from your makeshift shelter, you stretched out, feeling and hearing all sorts of cracks and you groaned at feeling the tension release. Sleeping on cold rocks didn’t do you any favours, but you were thankful that you made it to see today.

But since you could actually see more than an arm's length in front of you, you took the chance to inspect the craggy island, to see if there was anything of use besides the abandoned fishing nets and other man-made debris that had also found its way here.

You walked down the narrow shoreline you had beached yourself on until it slowly opened up to a larger beach. There wasn’t much, a seabird here or there, but what caught your attention was a seal, basking in the weak sunlight.

You had seen seals before, but never for long since they would slide into the water at the first sight of humans. And you stood there, just looking at its content sleeping face.

The seal was cute, just look at them, but you kept on moving, going towards a small cliff by the water that was encrusted with marine plants. While not super appetizing, they would be enough, plus you didn’t feel confident in trying to catch one of the aforementioned seabirds currently. So the algae would be enough for now.

Happy with your collection of assorted marine plants, you started making your way back. You looked back though, hoping to see the seal one more time for an added dose of some much-needed serotonin, but they were gone, the only evidence that they were there was the slide track going towards the water.

Your mouth twitched, nearing a frown, before you shook your head and continued back to camp, not really looking forward to your meal.

It was more or less the same when you got back, but the same feeling that you had while in the storm, to be cautious.

But what danger could be found on some craggy spire in the midst of the sea? As far as you knew, you were the only other person here. But your brain and your body were on high alert.

Ignoring your breakfast of ocean-provided greens, you carefully looked around your camp. All seemed as it was before you left, but upon entering under your boat, you found a large fresh halibut on the rocks, dead.

It couldn’t have washed up to shore, the tide didn’t come up this high. Upon flipping the fish over you found one large puncture mark.

Something had killed this fish and left it in your camp while you were gone for less than three hours. And while one part of you was grateful that you wouldn’t just be dining on seaweed, another part of you felt sick with dread.

You weren’t alone. They knew about you, maybe even have seen you, but you haven’t seen them.

You felt dizzy, and running out of your boat tent, you vomited into a rocky crevice.

“Tch,” you huffed, wiping your mouth. “If you think this is some sort of game you can fuck right off!”

Spinning around you hoped to see someone trying to hide, or to at least hear some sort of sound, but all you found was a seabird sitting comfortably on your boat, and another (or perhaps even the same) seal sitting at the tide line.

They looked at you curiously and turned their head to the side. Like they were surprised by your outburst.

You furrowed your brow, “Maybe I’m just going mad. Swallowed too much seawater.”

Shaking your head, you crept back under your shelter. But there was no denying that the fish was caught by someone and not by yourself. Your stomach gurgled, and putting aside your suspicion, you started a fire and prepared the fish. You might have not caught it, but like hell were you going to let it go to waste.

Soon, the suspicion was replaced for contentment at finally getting some hot food into you. And you looked outside, wondering when you would be getting an answer.

…

...

Keith didn’t have company very often besides the seabirds, so he took to sunbathing when possible, fighting away the cold of the ocean. Warmth was a hard thing to be found.

Sure, that jangly fellow visited every few months, but he hardly counted as good company. Something about him irritated Keith, but he couldn’t put a finger on it, so he just stayed polite, waiting for the man to leave. Their interactions were icey, much like the ocean waters that he knew.

But there was now a new visitor, they crawled out of the raging sea, a fire burning bright in them. Even though they were shrouded by darkness and mist, there was a warmth. Keith could only watch in curiosity as they fought their way out of the water and made a camp.

Fire was a rare and precious thing, not easily made or kept here, the cold and damp forcing it to die out sooner or later. But the new human, who was looking half drowned and half dead, was burning so brightly that Keith could only watch as orange light slowly illuminated the makeshift shelter they had made.

Humans rarely ever brought anything good with them, the litter on the beach being evidence of that, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. Even while exhausted and barely holding on, they were fighting where some may have just given up.

In a place that was typically cold and isolated, Keith couldn’t help but think that maybe the ocean had finally answered his call for a companion.

So he watched, and took notice of their shivering form. Unlike himself, humans weren’t made for this type of weather. He couldn’t just waltz in though, not wanting to scare them away.

After what felt like hours, the human finally fell asleep, somehow getting comfortable on the rocks even though they would definitely leave bruises on their skin. Keith slowly made his way towards the shelter, and looked curiously in, making sure that there was no chance that they were still awake.

But nope, you were out cold.

Keith slowly took off his seal coat, morphing into a man, and gently placed it on you, knowing that it would warm you up.

A part of him was a tad disappointed that you didn’t turn into a seal like him — you would have made an adorable seal — but he felt his face warm up as you burrowed subconsciously into his coat, curling up into a ball. Warmth in his face? That was new… but not unwarranted.

And he stayed on the other side of the shelter, by the entrance, but still close enough that if you woke up suddenly, he could take his coat and high tail it out of there if need be.

Giving your coat to a human? What am I thinking?

But he also didn’t want you to die. You brought vibrant warmth to the cold landscape. While he knew the fire could bring warmth, he also knew it could burn and destroy, consuming everything in its path.

He also knew that in order for him to be bound to you, like the old wives tales told, you would have to not only take his coat, but also give it back. The tales said nothing about him lending and then taking it back without you knowing–

The rustling of the pebbles moving took him out of his thoughts and he snatched his coat back and made a beeline for the water, quickly throwing it overtop of his self. Once back in the relative safety of the sea, he peered over the waves to see you crawling out of the shelter and stretching out, much like he did when sunbathing.

And then you were making your way down the shore, heading west, towards the haul out beach. Knowing that you were headed somewhat in that direction, Keith made his way there.

Its not so I can see them, no, just trying to warm up is all.

But he usually didn’t get a flutter in his chest from the prospect of sunbathing.

Naturally, he arrived before you did. Judging from his prior trekking experiences with that Silvio fellow, he reckoned that he had at least an hour before you stumbled your way to his haul out site. So, he stretched out, much like you did, however without the aforementioned cracking of every joint of his body.

He had a nice chat with some seabirds that were passing by, and mainly just enjoyed the weak sun that peaked through the clouds.

Then he heard your footsteps, and looked at you.

You looked back, only for a brief moment though, before continuing to the shoreline, picking up seaweed and algae. And even from the distance between the two of you, Keith could hear the gurgle of your stomach.

So, he went back into the water, into the depths, and hunted down a good sized halibut — surely a 5 pound fish would be enough for today? And left it in your shelter as a sort of welcoming/please don’t die gift.

But he wasn’t expecting you to come basically running out of your shelter and hurl into the cliff side.

“If you think this is some sort of game you can fuck right off!” You snapped, and Keith shrunk into the water.

Did you not like the gift? Did you find it offensive? Did he do something wrong?

But your ire, or what he assumed to be ire, cooled down and you went back into your shelter and Keith could smell the distinctive aroma of fish cooking. He usually preferred his meals cold, but he couldn’t help but wonder what hot fish tasted like.

He knew though that he would never have the chance, one human knowing of the existence of selkies was dangerous enough — what with the folk tales that still circled around after centuries — and while you may be intriguing, he couldn’t risk endangering everything just because you piqued his interest.

But he also couldn’t just ignore you.

You were a fire, and he couldn’t let you run rampant on his island because of the slight chance that you would burn everything to the ground.

...........................................

Masterlist

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #ikemen prince au #ikepri #ikepri x reader #ikepri au #keith howell #keith howell x reader #keith howell x gn reader #hi yes i am unwell about selkies and my brain went 'hey what if keith was a selkie?'#yes silvio is mentioned but he'll probably won't make an actual appearance #*goes and hides away under a boat*#watch me kick and scream trying to stay committed to yet another fic (probably not this one since this is an original story line)#hope you enjoy keith kissers

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