All right, here’s a thing - it doesn’t matter how good your intentions are, if something you do makes the other person uncomfortable then you probably shouldn’t do it.
Take Simon Crieff, for instance. “Simon is so fond of you, Martin” is no good reason at all why Simon should feel entitled to hug his little brother when he clearly doesn’t want him to.
People have boundaries, and these should be respected at all times. Hugs may be nice, but only so long as you’re okay with receiving them from that particular person at that particular moment in time.
We should all try and remember that it’s probably a good idea to double check with the person in question, and it’s entirely up to them to choose one way or the other. Oh, and trying and making them feel guilty if they say no is not okay either, no matter that you’re friends or family or whatever.
I don’t know how to title this, so. Meh. I’ll post snippets here on Tumbler, the full story will be on my AO3 account. It’s just going to be voluminous to post here I think, unless people want me to.
Anyway, here’s my slightly darker, Fae-Lore SportaRobbie beginner. Sorry ya’ll.
When Robbie was young, he lived with his mother. She followed The Olde Rules. A small cabin, hidden from the eyes of mortal men. Where she plucked mushrooms out of fairy rings, and mixed poultices to aid the forest fauna. She was a Witch of the Wilds, a being of myth and legend now.
Robbie knew she was real. She was, after all, his mother. And she was old, and she was wise. And she knew much about the forest. She knew much about the things Man called myths. Like dragons, and witches.
And the most dangerous of all, the Fae.
They’re deceivers, she would say. He would watch her mix a batch of something in a cast iron pot. He never knew what, and never knew who she mixed it for. They come to snatch children away and replace them with their own kind. They warp the minds of Men and make them dance to death. If you consume something from them, you become theirs forever. A toy, a plaything. If they aid you, never thank them, for then you are in their debt. Never make a bet with them. Stay away from the Fae, my little Robin.
There were many kinds of Fae. Nymphs, and Sprites, and Pixies, and Fairies. Kelpies, mermaids, ogres and…and Elves.
But beware the Elves, Mother had said. For they run the Seelie and Unseelie courts. They are wickedly smart, and vicious. Manipulative and talented beyond your imagination. They rule the Fae, my Robin. And they are the most dangerous to Man, for they most resemble them.
She taught Robbie magic. Spells to help the plants grow. Wards to keep himself safe. Charms to protect others, and elixirs to heal hurts and help with sleep. But Robbie was not like his mother. He was young, and naive, and talented with his magic. He was curious, and had seen bits and pieces of the world of Man.
When he was older, stronger, and independent, he packed a satchel and a foot locker full of things. He would live in the word of Man, with it’s shiny cars, and moving pictures, and Malls.
She watched him from the door of their hut. He could feel her eyes on him even as he left the Forest. Even as he ventured into the city, even as he made Men think leaves and twigs were money.
Even today, he could feel his mother’s eyes. He did his best to ignore them.
The city is a nice place. Robbie likes it. He moved when he was barely twenty, and now, twenty eight, he was relatively well versed in the day-to-day life of Mankind. Now and then he could be a little…mm, awkward. Not quite on point. But if he got a few odd looks, that was fine.
He had ended up working in an office building. A few magicked papers, and a lot of charm later? He was one of the lead campaign officers for the company’s advertising. He had a talent with making things–art, machinery, videos. He found the same came with computers, and he loved working with them. They had so much potential. They opened portals to things he never imagined, and were the cornerstone in how he grew to learn to meld with human habits so quickly.
When he’d first started, it was in a shabby little apartment. Now though, he’d moved out of the city itself into the suburbs. It was quieter, but still full of life. Not empty, like the Forest, but not a litany of never-ending noise, like the city center. He enjoyed the suburbs.
The house he had found was in a little neighborhood called Lazy River. The ages were heavily mixed. A couple of kids lived on his block, and the HOA head did as well. There was of course the neighborhood nosy neighbor, and the stereotypical ‘we kicked our ball into your backyard sorry’, but over all Robbie was left alone. A quiet neighborhood, where he could tend to a garden, watch television, and work on his computer from home.
It was bliss. Life was good, and magic-free, and normal. Until He came.
It was summer, bright and hot. Robbie was out in his front yard, doing his best to talk his Japanese Maple into living through the season. It was wilting and complaining about the heat, and he made sure to water it daily. Really though, it was just whining. The Maple liked attention, and Robbie would give it. With it’s luscious violet-red levels and spindle arms, he felt kinship with it.
But he absolutely did not whine like that silly Maple.
“You complain about it every year,” he chides under his breath. The tree rustles its leaves at him indignantly, but it’s reply is drowned out by the sound of children. He looks up from where he’s re-mulching to see them running in the street.
Trixie, Pixel, Stingy, and…those other ones. The girl in a pink dress and the sticky blond. They were newest on his block, so he didn’t know them that well. But he knew the other three well enough to know to keep an eye on them if they got too close. He didn’t want any broken windows.
“Robbie Robbie!” The kids hurried over, Trixie in the lead, her hands curling over his fence. “Guys, this is Robbie. Robbie, meet Stephanie and Ziggy!”
“Hi,” the pink one waved cheerfully. The blond mumbled a hello around a lollypop. Robbie sighed to himself and sat back on his heels, arms crossing.
“Hi,” he offered bluntly. “What do you brats want now?”
“Come play with us!”
“Yeah,” Pixel chimed. “We’re playing soccer and we need another goalie.”
“I do not ‘play’,” Robbie reminded. Pixel groaned and Trixie huffed.
“I told you so,” Stingy whined.
“That’s okay,” Stephanie chimed in. We could play Horse instead? Ziggy’s got a basketball hoop right?”
“Oh yeah!” Ziggy nodded. “I do! We can get my dad to set it up. Come on!” And off they went. Robbie wrinkled his nose after them. Kids.
He liked most everything about Mankind. Except…kids. They were too loud, and too sticky and leaked. And were…short. Bleck.
After a while he got back to mulching, and didn’t think anything else of them. What he didn’t realize, nor notice, was that the kids found someone else to be goalie before they could get to the basketball hoop. Ziggy’s house was around the corner, so Robbie didn’t notice the blond the kids ran into.
He didn’t notice the way the blond smiled at them, and introduced himself as Sportacus. Or the way he was more than happy to play with them. That he was new around here, and the kids were gleefully naive enough to invite him along.
The kids didn’t notice the pointed ears hidden beneath that shaggy hair. All they saw was a young adult, willing to play, who could do flips and hand-stands and could spin a soccer ball on his finger. Almost like magic.
Robbie didn’t notice the elf until it was far too late for anyone.