#pruscot

Matthew loved being able to watch the trees change from a bright green to vivid hues of red. He could see the entire transformation before his eyes, like a flower opening its petals, and each year fall came, he was mesmerized by the sight before him.

Red and Green. They were the only two colors he could see, a rarity in itself when it came to soulmates. Often, people were able to only see one color before they met their soulmate’s gaze, then the world became all the more vibrant and full of life, dull greys transforming into something magnificent.

He would stand in a room of grey, and that vibrancy he felt would leave. Sometimes he would only see red or green in the monochromatic world, and try to envision the red in the eyes of his soulmate, or the green eyes that would crinkle upwards in a warm smile as they laughed. 

Red was a rare color for people to see, it would make it easier to find them, someone that more than likely had albinism.

Green was more common. He had met people with green eyes, but they were never the right green, not like an emerald glowing under a night’s sky. They were still beautiful, but not the right one.

Matthew always thought about his soulmates, since the only two colors he could see reminded him of them, putting the idea into the back of his conscious made it complicated. It was hard to find one, let alone two. He had slowly become resigned to the fact that he may never see them.

Until he found himself walking outside on a rainy day, wet leaves of red blowing in the wind and landing in puddles, trees baren from the oncoming winter. He had brought an umbrella that was a darker shade of grey, because he enjoyed the type of grey it was, but the curiosity of its color always laid in the back of his mind.

He turned to enter a shop, but roughly bumped into someone. The other man fell backwards, landing his behind on the hard, wet pavement. 

Matthew gasped, reaching out a hand towards him to help him up. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized profusely.

The man groaned, looking downwards to the ground, muttering something inaudible as he rubbed the back of his head. A head of white, messy hair.

He looked up and their eyes met. Red, a red he had never seen before that glowed in flames of life, providing warmth around it, shining brightly over every other shade he had seen before.

Slowly, other colors swirled in his vision. He could see the color of his skin, the true color of the shop’s door, and so many more that surrounded his vision. It had nearly been overwhelming, so he decided to stare into that beautiful red until his eyes adjusted.

The man broke his gaze, looking upwards to the umbrella in wonder before slowly looking down to him again. “You’re-” he began, but cut himself off, entirely at a loss for words.

Matthew smiled then, nodding, a warmth spreading inside him.

He noticed that Matthew’s hand was still offered to him, and blushed out of embarrassment before gingerly taking it in his own. Matthew helped him up and they stood in silence, until, “The names, Gilbert, by the way. What’d they call you before they cast you out of heaven?” He grinned then, and even without the fact of them being soulmates, he knew that it was blinding for any stranger to see.

Matthew quickly learned more about Gilbert’s quirky and upbeat personality, all with an ego that he might have been fond of enabling. They started hanging out, and going on dates.

They discovered that they still could not see certain colors, but mainly, they could not see the colors of their own eyes. Gilbert informed him that his eyes are blue like the sky, that the umbrella he owned was a darker shade of blue. Matthew tried to get him to explain what it looked like, but explaining colors were more complicated and harder then it seemed.

Matthew told him that his eyes are red, like the bracelet he wore from his brother, or like the perfect apple, and the leaves on the trees during the fall that he was always so captivated with. He tried to explain red in return, but imagining the colors when they were never seen before are hard to imagine.

It was on one of their dates that they finally met him.

A locally owned coffee shop that had just opened recently, filled with greens with accents of red. The door to the entrance was large, and a pale yellow, he learned of the color after some research. He sat down at the table with Gilbert, the booths red and the menus green as the waiter served them.

Gilbert prattled on, joking around and leading much of the conversation, waiting with interest whenever Matthew spoke.

A commotion behind Gilbert caused some turning of heads, including said boyfriend, turning to see two men bickering.

One was blond with green eyes, large brows furrowed, lips formed into a pout as his foot tapped impatiently against the ground. He wore an apron covered in flour. Matthew could tell by the name tag that he worked here, and possibly owned the restaurant, with the stance he carried himself with.

The air was tense between them, until the other man cracked a teasing joke, red hair obscuring his eyes as he smirked. 

The first man lightly shoved him, and let out a sarcastic laugh. There was a slight quirk on his lips, giving way that their argument no longer held any heat.

He turned then, intense green facing them. Emerald like the other man’s, his brother, he assumed, but they stood out so much more vibrantly.

Matthew and Gilbert met his eyes, Gilbert’s jaw went slack, and the entire world came to life. More colors exploded around them, unfurling at every corner, moving from the restaurant, to the outside, the sun’s rays filled with yellows inside of the shop, the tables and chairs, booths, to the scratches on the wooden surface all had color, all came to life.

He looked down, and could see the color of his his cup, and the steam that slowly rose from it. 

The stranger looked genuinely surprised, and the man next to him leaned over to him, mumbling something in concern before his shook his head and looked back at him. He eyed the other, as though he was seeing him for the first time, like he was staring at a complete stranger before his shook his head again and spoke.

They talked in hushed tones, until the man with red hair cocked his head towards them, gesturing to Gilbert and Matthew. 

The other smirked and nodded in response, shoving him towards them before dusting off his apron and disappearing into the back again.

The man approached them, standing at the edge of the table, crossing his arms and leaning his weight onto one foot.

Before they could speak, he talked first. “I never really believed in soulmates, you know. Seemed like a hassle, seemed unfair that people couldn’t just see in color when they’re born, and that these people who are fated-to-be get to.” Gilbert seemed disappointed by that statement and Matthew frowned, a despondent feeling rooted in him.

“Don’t expect me to like you right away, just because you two are my soulmates. However,” a small smile formed on his lips, “that doesn’t mean I won’t try, since you two are here and all. Say, you two have room for one more today?”

Gilbert’s grin returned in full force, and Matthew smiled, inviting him to sit next to him.

They discovered that his name was Allistor.

Matthew loved being able to see in full color, but his favorite colors were still green and red. They always stood out to him more, able to easily see the two colors in the room above all else.

They share dates together, whether it be restaurants, picnics, homemade dinners, visiting each others homes. They usually met at Arthur’s restaurant, Allistor’s brother’s business. They got discounts during lunch, and it quickly became their favorite place to meet.

As months passed to years, they eventually all found a home together. Gilbert brought his dog with him, Matthew had his own dog as well, and Allistor had a cat. Their household quickly became a family with all of the additions. Luckily, all of their pets got along, aside from the bump between Allistor’s cat and Gilbert’s dog.

They make dinners together, lay on the couch in a pile and watch movies, sit at the table and share stories over morning coffee and tea.

It was all so incredibly domestic, and Matthew was happy with it. He appreciated simplicity and love, and in their household, not a moment went by without Allistor staring at one of them fondly, or Gilbert’s excited smile, or Matthew’s reminder of how much he cares about them.

They still went out on dates together.

Matthew sat under a tree with Gilbert and Allistor. Gilbert had his head resting on his lap, strumming the acoustic guitar Allistor had bought him for his birthday. He had learned how to play it relatively quickly, a natural talent he had. He did not sing, but he strummed the guitar, a soft melody befitting their surroundings.

Matthew rested his head against Allistor’s shoulder while he leaned against him in return. He listened to his soft breathing in tune with the music. His eyes were off in the distance, but his lips quirked up in the faintest of smiles. 

He looked down to the pond before them, watching as two swans drifted over to the cattails nearby.

He paused to appreciate the scene before him, the blue water of the pond, still, save for the small waves formed from the swans movement, the red leaves of autumn’s return floating atop the water, and the green grass that surrounded them.

Bad Days Make Good Things Happen

~=o-o=~

The forest was dark. The dense treetops blocked the moonlight and the few stars in the cloudy night.

Allistor should have come home earlier.

The forest's non-magical creatures weren't too dangerous, and he could defend himself well if a creature such as a wolf or an owl did attack him, despite his broken staff. But the magical creatures were something else. He did not want to meet with any faeries. Those tiny things were as dangerous as a bloody dragon at night. And they didn't like humans.

Every step was careful, the minimum of sound too loud. Every shake of a branch or leaf put Allistor in alert. Every shadow that not his own was a potential enemy. Hell, even his own shadow could be an enemy. Every sound had him searching for the source. He wasn't even using a light for fear of attracting something.

“Wow, you really hate the night, don't you?”

Allistor stopped, looking all around for the source of the voice. Nothing. This creature either hid in the trees, or was invisible.

“I mean, look at how you stopped now! I doubt you'd have if it was day.”

It wasn't a spirit. Its voice was too solid.

“W...where are you?” Uttered Allistor. He hated his tone.

“Oh my elven spirits. I'm not gonna hurt you, don't be so fuckin' afraid.” It sounded offended. “Here, I'm at your right.”

Allistor whipped around, and there it was. Clothed in brown, barefoot and with a bow and arrows strapped to his back. An elf. Arms crossed, an offended expression and a prideful stance.

Oh, no. An elf was the last thing Allistor wanted to encounter in the middle of the forest. At night. With a broken staff. He took a discrete deep breath, and hid the fear from his expression. He hoped he could hide it from his body language.

“What did you decide to taunt me for?” He asked. The elf shrugged.

“I thought I should have some fun, since my community kicked me out,” was the relaxed answer. The elf leaned on a tree, crossing his ankles. He grinned. “You up for a game'a hide 'n seek?”

“I'd prefer to continue my way home,” replied Allistor. He gulped when the elf's grin faded. The elf pushed himself off the tree, smiling again.

“Aw, then I'll go with you 'til the edge of the forest.” He stepped over to Allistor and offered a hand. “This is how you humans present yourselves to each other, right? I'm Gilbert.”

The mage gave Gilbert a distrustful look, but shook his hand.

“Allistor Kirkland.”

No strange feelings, no spells hidden in the hand, nothing. Maybe Gilbert was being honest.

They walked. Allistor was wary, and kept on the watch for any antics Gilbert might try. One could never be too careful with an elf.

“So where the fuck is your house that you had to go through the forest?” Asked Gilbert after some time, his eyebrows scrunched together.

“On the other side of the forest,” answered Allistor, deadpan. “There's a road, but going through the forest is shorter and the danger doesn't change a lot.”

“Ah.” Gilbert raised his eyebrows in understanding. “And what had you so busy you took until midnight to complete?”

Sigh. Allistor wanted to be home and sleep after the long day, not talk to a bloody elf while trudging through the forest.

“Your staff is broken.”

“You don't bloody say!?” Snapped Allistor. Taken aback, Gilbert raised his hands beside his head.

“Okay, sorry! I just wanted to talk!”

Silence reigned for a while. When Allistor's anger cooled down, he realised what a huge mistake he had made. Since Gilbert hadn't left his side, he must be a friendly elf, because any other elf would have ripped Allistor's arm off, or at least a finger.

“I was on the city back there,” said Allistor, pointing over his shoulder. The city wasn't visible through the trees anymore, but that was its general direction. “I sell potions and make staffs and wands. Some rich lady wanted her staff perfect, so it took some time.”

“Oh, so now you decide to talk,” scoffed Gilbert, arms crossed and an eyebrow arched. “All right. What kinda potions do you make?”

“Any,” shrugged Allistor, voice tired. “Most people order one or two for some specific thing.”

“Oh geez, you sound tired.” Gilbert clapped once. “C'mon, ask me a question, it's my turn to talk.”

The mage knitted his brow, but obliged.

“Where did you use to live.” His question was more of a statement, as he didn't bother with the intonation.

“Down a river 'bout that direction.” He pointed. “It's a pretty big community. As I told you, though, they kicked me out.”

“Why would they.”

“Shed some light on my face.” Allistor refused. He wasn't risking it. “I'm an elf. If something comes, I'll fight it off.”

It was a good argument. Hesitant, Allistor concentrated energy on his hand and generated light. He raised it to Gilbert's head, and let out an ‘oh’.

Gilbert was an albino. Elves demonised light hair or skin. Red eyes as well. If it wasn't for Gilbert's pointy ears and manner of clothing, Allistor would've thought he wasn't an elf.

“Only reason they kept me was because my mother insisted I grew among them. As soon as I became an adult, they kicked me out.” His voice was a little strained. He shrugged with a bitter smile. “Guess I’ll live wherever and nowhere now.”

An outcast.

They weren't so different, then.

“Well, there's the edge of the forest.” Gilbert stopped walking. “I guess we part ways here.” He smiled and waved as he turned back and walked away.

Allistor didn't respond.

~=o=~

Knocking.

“I'll be right there!” Called Allistor. He rushed from his workshop to the kitchen-lounge, and opened the door. His eyes widened. “Dylan?!”

His older brother grinned.

“Hello, wee brother.” Dylan pushed past Allistor and sat on the sofa. “I need a favour.”

“Then I expect something in return,” responded Allistor, voice cold, closing the door.

“Tsk, tsk...” Dylan shook his head. “Arthur did always tell you not to expect too much from the world.” He looked at Allistor. “Seems you didn't like that advice.”

Allistor sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Well, if you don't do me something in return, I won't do anything at all for you.” He strolled to his material shelves, taking a pot of unicorn mane hair.

“And how d'you know there ain't a mage better than you for the favour?” Growled Dylan.

“Because you came to my house.” Allistor took one hair from the pot and closed it. Besides, if Dylan gave up on asking for the favour because of a price, it'd be a win-win situation.

“Fine.” Dylan stood. “What do you want for the favour?”

Allistor smirked.

“Ahh, now we're talking.” He took his broken staff. “It depends on my side of the trade. What do you want?”

Dylan walked to the shelves and took a herb jar, showing it to Allistor.

“This herb. I need around four times what's in the jar.” Allistor arched an eyebrow.

“So that's why you came here.” Allistor put down the now fixed staff. “For that, I'll want about three pounds of wool from your sheep.”

“What?!” Dylan spread his arms. “That's an absurd!”

“Well, I'm lacking fabric for clothes,” shrugged Allistor. “And that way, I won't need more for a long time.” He looked at Dylan. “Of course, we could always call the trade off.”

Pause.

“You're insufferable,” fumed Dylan. “I'll come back in ten days with the wool. If you don't have the herbs, trade's off.”

“Of course, same way around,” agreed Allistor. “Farewell, brother!” He waved as Dylan walked out and slammed the door. He smiled, satisfied.

~=o=~

Allistor lied down and let a drop of a potion fall on each of his eyes. He blinked repeatedly to let it spread and ease the pain, and stood. He took his staff, and walked out the door.

The cave with the herb he was looking for was around a hundred metres north-east into the forest. It was the only cave in the region containing the herb, and would be fine to visit if it weren't for the gasses it released which blinded a human on long exposure.

On the entrance, blue and purple plants announced it was a venomous environment. Those plants stuck to poisonous ones and used the poison to grow. Further in, the herb Allistor wanted grew in abundance. He collected enough to fill the sack he'd brought with him and turned back.

As he walked back to the entrance, he spotted a brown patch under a non-poisonous bush. Leather. It was ripped, showing wounds on very pale skin. Allistor pulled the bush back to reveal Gilbert, beaten, bloodied, and hanging onto a last thread of consciousness.

“Gilbert!” Allistor crouched down and slid his arms under the elf, who groaned in pain. “Stay with me, it's all right.” Allistor lifted him from the bush, careful not to let him hit the wall. “Who...?”

“Elves,” moaned Gilbert. His struggle to stay conscious was clear.

“Let yourself be unconscious, Gilbert,” said Allistor, voice as clear as he could make it. “I'll take you to my house and take care of you.”

With a weak nod, Gilbert fainted.

Allistor walked as fast as he could back to his house. Running would exhaust him too fast and created the danger of tripping. He set Gilbert on his bed and rushed to the kitchen to find good medicinal herbs. Coming back to his room with the herbs, water, bandages and a towel, he took most of Gilbert's clothing off, and cleaned the wounds. He used the herb and water to create a paste, which he rubbed on the wounds to avoid infection. It was a good thing Gilbert was asleep through it, because they could sting.

A few hours after Allistor had bandaged the wounds, Gilbert woke up. A crash and a pained yell came from the bedroom, and Allistor rushed into it to find Gilbert on the floor curled up.

“Gilbert?”

Gilbert curled up tighter. Realising he was likely intimidating him with his height, Allistor crouched and laid a gentle hand on Gilbert's shoulder.

“I’m Allistor, Gilbert. Remember me? From a few days ago, in the forest?”

After a few seconds, Gilbert's posture relaxed a little. He turned over and looked at Allistor. Allistor made the gentlest expression he could with his bulky figure and thick eyebrows that were always low. Gilbert's whole body relaxed, including his breathing.

“Let's get you back on the bed,” offered Allistor. As Gilbert nodded, he lifted Gilbert onto the bed and guided his limbs to a natural position. “With proper treatment, your wounds should heal in around seven days,” he informed. “Do you want water?” Gilbert nodded. “I'll go get some for you.” Allistor walked to the well outside.

~=o=~

Gilbert's recovery was quicker than Allistor expected; likely due to elves healing faster, as Gilbert himself suggested. Well, neither Gilbert nor Allistor were complaining. Gilbert, to pay Allistor back for taking care of him, began helping keep the house clean and make the potions.

“I'll leave as soon as I've paid you back,” he stated one afternoon. “You wouldn't want an albino elf in your house.”

At the moment, Allistor didn't respond, only nodding in acknowledging. Later that night, though, he noticed he would miss having company. The next morning, he confronted Gilbert about it.

“You don't need'a leave,” he offered. Gilbert looked over from the pot he'd been cleaning. “It ain't good to live alone in the woods. Besides, I'd miss your company,” he admitted, a little bashful.

Allistor had never seen Gilbert so happy. He thanked Allistor more than once, and promised to help him with any duty he wanted. Allistor rolled his eyes and said ‘of course’.

A day later, Dylan appeared in the front door, with the three pounds of wool he'd promised. Allistor let him into the house, and examined the wool. It had no spells or potions. Allistor nodded in approval, and took the sack of herb from the kitchen. Dylan inspected it, and seeing it only had a spell to keep the herb fresh, stood.

“It's been a good trade, wee brother.” He grinned.

“Of course.”

As Dylan walked to the front door, Gilbert waltzed into the lounge-kitchen.

“Allie, the batch of instant ice potions is rea- oh you have a visitor shit I'm sorry.”

Dylan whipped around to stare at Gilbert, an albino elf, in Kirkland-made clothing, who’d called Allistor by a nickname, and talked like he lived in Allistor's house.

“Who is that?” Dylan punctuated the syllables with danger. Gilbert stepped back in the direction of the bedroom.

“He's Gilbert.” Allistor's voice was nonchalant as he threw an unworried glance at Dylan. “Lives here, helps with the job.”

Silence. Dylan's narrowed eyes cooled the room. Gilbert was ready to hide, and Allistor raised an eyebrow in a casual stance.

“Every time I come here,” scoffed Dylan, “you're a bigger disappointment to the family.” He turned and left.

Sighing, Allistor closed the door.

“Rude.” He turned back to Gilbert. “Come on, let's pack the potions.”

“What about your visitor?” Gilbert rushed to help him.

“What, my brother? He's an asshole,” shrugged Allistor. “My family already hates me anyway, and it's not like you're going to affect my job.”

Stillness. Then, Gilbert grinned.

“All right!”

1. WWI AU

I said i could handle angst. I lied. I said no doom but the angst still punched me in the face.

"He looks at him like prey and like home."

2. University AU

Mech engineering x Med

Same souls but different lifetime. This au to cope after WWI au trauma. They look normal and happy here! I'm pretending that fixes everything :D

3. No AU / Just Them

War trauma, reincarnation copium, then just them.

I tho i was strong, i was wrong. Anyway i love them Your Honour.

All credits to the insanely talented:

@skelletory (on Twitter)