Color Him In Red

Red was everywhere in Wei Wuxian's life. It colored every aspect of his life. From shade to shade, his world was painted in loss and pain and innocence and love.

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For the 3/28/20 weekly prompt of "vermilion" from my Cheng Qing Ling and MDZS discord. Beta'd by DLanaDHZ and Alessariel.

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Crimson was the color of the blood on his chin, dripping from his nose. A signal he had pushed himself too far. Used too much spiritual strength that was no longer supported by a golden core. It was Wei Wuxian trying, trying, trying, so hard to stop bad things from happening, to stop bad people from winning.

It was wounds caused by friendly swords, cutting ties with the past and walking a single plank bridge into the night. It was saying goodbye to his shidi in a mountain pass.

It was shijie's life flowing over his hands, always on his hands. They would never be clean.

It was a soul sacrificed for a cause it could not understand. A bloody array that coated the floor and walls to summon an evil spirit. And instead it got…him.

It was the flayed body of an enemy lying in the corner, while his friends' eyes were wide with horror. It was losing the trust of a soulmate.

"Wei Wuxian!"

"Lan Wangji."

Crimson was loss.

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Carnelian was the color of the sunset. The ending of a day. The last burst of color before the world went dark with night.

It was the blush of autumn, all the foliage gone brittle with the promise of winter. The crunch of leaves underfoot, covering every forest floor. A color to signify a long voyage far from home. It was him missing green fields and waterfalls and wondering if Gusu had turned carnelian too.

It was holding on to something that had to move on.

"In this world, everyone has their own things to do, their own paths to walk."

Carnelian was change.

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Bright scarlet was the lands around Nightless City, lit up with flows of lava. A perfect backdrop to a land controlled by a man as unforgiving and brutal as Wen Ruohan.

It shone bright even from the cliff tops. It reached out, even so far away.

The heat burned skin like the light hurt the eyes. It ate and ate away at him until there was nothing left. Until he was less than bone, less than ash.

"Wei Ying!"

Scarlet was pain.

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Cerise, fuchsia, rose, and coral. The petals of flowers falling from the sky. A grasp at a time when things were easier. Two young men standing beside a crowd discussing poetry, another staring at the sky – an image too beautiful to comprehend, too fleeting to grab hold of.

They were springtime. Promises made under lanterns under a pink hued sky. Rabbits given as a gift with ribbons on their ears.

They were lotuses floating on lakes, or plucked and raided for seeds. The colors of robes worn by children. They were softer times, sweeter memories, and half forgotten dreams. A heart fluttering with brilliant, sparkling realization.

"An unparalleled, gorgeous, and elegant gentleman. I agree."

Coral, rose, fuchsia, and cerise were innocence.

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Cardinal was the color of the long-tailed minivet of summer in the mountains, the thought that he was close, so close. And yet still too far away.

It was a hair ribbon blowing in the breeze and a tassel hanging from a black flute as he played, the sound echoing across the valley bellow and the peaks above, calling with the wind.

Can you hear me? I am here.

"Wei Ying."

Cardinal was hope.

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Vermilion was wisdom and learning. It was auspicious luck. A good omen. It was a dot on the forehead of a rival-turned-family, of a precious but hotheaded nephew. It was a symbol of openness and aspirations.

It was the flow of layer upon layer of robes, both the heaviest and lightest outfit either of them had ever worn. It was the banners on the walls. It was the gemstones in their ceremonial guan. It was the carpet on which they knelt for their three bows. It was the sheets on the marriage bed, the flowers that had been placed around the room.

Vermilion was the flush on his cheeks, the blush on Lan Zhan's ears.

"Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan."

"I love you."

Vermilion was love.

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fin