“Your welcome was rather disappointing, Jiang-zongzhu,” Jin Zixun calls mockingly. “Even your husband here failed to make us feel at home.” The obvious baiting is answered with a dangerously still, silent courtyard. Jin Zixun throws a glance at the three cultivators keeping Lan Wangji kneeling, chin tipped in a wordless order.
The blade hooked beneath Lan Wangji’s throat digs deeper, drawing more blood and he knows without looking that the red on the front of his robes is growing. Still no response. Lan Wangji can feel his wife’s presence, along with a handful of other qi signatures he recognizes as Jiang senior disciples. And he prays she doesn’t come out.
Jin Zixun’s grin is feral. “Very well.” But before the blade slides home and ends it all, the doors are flung wide and Jiang Cheng emerges. A silent breath escapes him. He should have known his Wanyin would not stand by. It is not in her nature.
Hair unbound and eyes flickering with Zidian’s energy, she looks like a wrathful goddess of lightning. Even where he’s forced to kneel, Lan Wangji can feel the electricity thrumming through his wrecked meridians, thinned to the point of snapping. Sandu’s naked blade gleams wickedly in one hand. And in the other, she carries their son.
She is not like his mother, bowing her head with furious acceptance of her fate and allowing her sons to be dragged away from her. She is not like her own mother, vicious in her pride and arrogance, blind to the needs of her children.
Jiang Cheng would do the impossible for those she loves. That is her strength.
Lan Wangji knows that there is no safer place for their son than in her arms.
67 notes
·
View notes
black star honsey ,, big buff unicorn ,,, magically battling talent ,, owo ♥️
This Just In, former mayor of Shady Swamp finally tells his story of being the first cured of the Umbrum Infection!
19 notes
·
View notes
i have to say, I'm happily taylor-neutral but I do think the hate, in general, is over the top. Like it's just pop music, some people are going to like it and some aren't and I don't understand why it matters that much. Like I saw a rather annoying post saying (I guess as a joke, not that funny to me though) that actual tortured poets stick their heads in ovens and like 1. that's... again, not funny 2. taylro is a woman at the end of the day she has a god-given right to feel connected to sylvia plath just like the rest of us. 3. anyone can be a tortured poet you just have to feel tortured and write poetry. it doesn't have to be good. a 13 year old writing emo poetry in her suburban bedroom can be a tortured poet I don't think it's that big of a deal and that's probably who the album was aimed at. 4. why would you say that anyway, it's stupid
12 notes
·
View notes
Now that its over, I can share how mad I was at Hope for the majority of Day 3...
GIRL IT IS YOUR HONEYMOON!!!
Anyway, while this heffa is stressed and thinking about work, she's literally all HE can think about. I love that for Jay, hate it for Hope.
62 notes
·
View notes