#fangs of fortune ramblings

[darknutmeg]

Li Lun, dear, you have to move on. You have to let it go. You lost your friend and you're lonely and filled with resentment, but possessing a child - and trying to turn Zhuo Yichen against his friends - is not the way to deal with your problems. Don't make everyone else miserable just because you're miserable.

It's okay to let go.

[exitvelocities]

some fangs of fortune ship rambling bc i started making a chart and then got tired. as always, these are my own personal opinions and not absolute pronouncements; this is just my version of the polycule. please do as you like.

psj

a lesbian

dating wx exclusively

fond of zyc and zyz

does not like ll but figures it's not her business

wx

bi

flirts by using nicknames

dating zyz and psj

loves zyc deeply but not romantically

believes in the redemptive power of love but still sort of judgy about ll at first

zyz

chaotic bi

dating wx and zyc

it's complicated with ll

loves them all in different but equally intense ways

zyc

surprised that he's bi

has lingering childhood sweetheart feelings for wx but is willing to accept it's not happening and loves her regardless

not sure how it happened but dating zyz

it's even more complicated with ll

ll

honestly probably gay

long and very intense relationship with zyz which resulted in an equally intense break up but neither of them could really fully let it go so they keep circling back

initially disdainful of zyc but then finds himself drawn to him

cared deeply for ao yin and treated her and her feelings for him gently

[shijiujun]

Can FoF be any gayer that ending was like what is even going on so ok Wen Xiao is your true love but YOUR LAST SPECK OF A SOUL IS LITERALLY ON THAT BLOOD THUMB PRINT ON THAT LOVE PROMISE LETTER THAT IS RIGHT NEXT TO WEN XIAO for months and then INSTEAD OF MAKING URSELF KNOWN TO UR GF WHO IS RIGHT THERE NEXT TO U WAITING U FLY ALL THE WAY TO WHERE ZHUO YICHEN IS EXCUSE ME?!! And then OMG IF U WERE ALL ALONG WITH WEN XIAO THEN ZHUO YICHEN TRAVELS TO FIND UR SOUL 然后找了个寂寞?! GO SO FAR ONLY FOR U TO FLY TO HIM FROM WHERE U ARE WITH UR GF?!?! AND ZYC LOOKING LIKE HE LOST AND FOUND HIS ONE TRUE LOVE?! It’s like this whole show is tragedy through and through like pretty tragedy and a tragedy that hinges on so many bromances dying LIKE WHY and then so many potential gay ships but no push the hetero ship that doesn’t have as much backstory or hold as the possible bro ships like WHAT ARE YALL GETTING AT

[nutcasewithaknife]

It's so meaningful that Wen Xiao is mad about her apparently inevitable fate as a sacrifice. She has been desperately seeking control over her own life for so long, because so much of it has been her tackling what fate threw at her. Her father dies and she is adopted by the Baize Goddess. She's chosen as the next Baize, but the burden will kill her till she finds the other half of the order. She manages to fix the token, only to find that she is dying, the inevitable fate of the Baize Goddess is to be the sacrifice that saves the world, and that too may not be enough to save everyone she loves.

And yet, she keeps a firm hold over her self and refuses to passively accept her predestined role. She cares about the world of humans and demons not because she must, but because her father was killed by a demon and she refuses to let that fester into hatred, insists on protecting both worlds with understanding. She cares about demons not as her duty but because they are people who are repeatedly mistreated and murdered. She wants to save Zhao Yuanzhou and spends 300 years all alone to fix the token because she loves him and wants to save him as much as the world. She feels powerless but refuses to simply accept her role, accept her fate. She refuses to let anyone bear the burden but refuses to accept it meekly either. She wants to live her own life fully. She has to be physically restrained for Zhao Yuanzhou to take the burden of sacrifice upon himself.

To me, FoF is a story of claiming your life as your own in the face of fate, about changing what an action means even when it's pre-destined. Zhao Yuanzhou and Zhou Yichen are the most obvious examples of this, but they take time to get there. Wen Xiao is the one who has been holding her own against her fate right from episode one, when the other two were ready to play by the script.

[randomingoftherandomness]

I just submitted a request to AO3 to canonize the fandom tag, so fingers crossed we get a response soon!

[dingyuxi]

we are truly so blessed by the styling departments of both fangs of fortune and love game in eastern fantasy

[travalerray]

listen,

[psalm40speakstome]

Fangs of Fortune and Love Game In Eastern Fantasy

Know it’s hard to answer without spoilers because everyone’s opinions different

But are they happy endings?

My criteria:

Main couple isn’t dead or separated.

No cliffhanger wondering if people are okay.

[stayedfortheplot]

Part 2 of my mental illness:

So Hou Minghao's last day of filming was not ZYZ's death BECAUSE

Burned hands, being nursed. (Credit to whoever shot these during filming. I saw them on Pinterest and saved them ages ago, sorry)

Is her outfit white or blue? Asking because the trailer seemed to show his death but now my objection is, why isn't ZYC there?

Also, I don't think that's consensual choking. And it's not the malicious energy (where's the red glow? Why the blue around his hand?). Something weird is going on, and I have my doubts the sparkly death is real. Also, hands bound?? Why??

How much of this is an illusion? Illusions have been a staple of this show.

Is this real? I doubt it. It seems to be during the big boss fight.

And what's with the suicide?? Is he waking up from a dream?

SPOILERS below. This is from Pinterest, not trailer.

What the f is this? I haven't missed him being stabbed by someone in purple, have I?? Purple is not ZYC's color.

So yeah. Lots of questions. No answers. Right now I'm wondering if ZYZ dies by someone else's hands and has to reincarnate, and those shots of ZYC wandering alone is him looking for ZYZ. I'm still not convinced that this show is actually going to end like it's been so plainly foreshadowed.

Part 1

[jellytheteawolf]

I have no clue what this show is but it's showing up on my tl in various apps and I keep misreading it as fags of fortune

[kingsandbastardz]

I know cheng lei's character is supposed to be a fox, probably, but I see his wig and think red squirrel.

[darknutmeg]

When I first watched The Untamed, I didn't know anything about any parts of the story. I had decided to watch it on whim after scrolling by posts from those I followed and somehow seeing next to nothing. So when I got to episode 46 with the golden core reveal I lost my mind. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WEI WUXIAN GAVE HIS CORE TO JIANG CHENG. I was sitting on the floor that entire scene. Nothing on any TV show had taken me out like that before or since.

Until this.

Because we watched the look of utter disbelief on his face when he found him, because THE MUSIC, because he held his bell, because of the FLASHBACK SCENES, because he carried him down the hall. THIS WAS AWFUL, HORRIFIC, THE WORST PAIN EVER... but also, an absolute masterclass acting session from Tian Jiarui. Thank you sir for ripping my guts out. It's going to be a long while before I can watch this scene again.

(PS: I was watching with my headphones on and that song right in my ears was uh.... Ow.)

[dramas-and-stuff]

I know I'll be down bad when I want to watch it again immediately

[shijiujun]

fangs of fortune is the most fun drama i've seen in a while and the roles suit hou minghao and chen duling so well i think so much better than all their other roles? and the UST and eye-fucking gosh i love it, plus the soundtrack and effects are amazing?!?!?!

[tojisun]

CW: noncon; omegaverse stuff so ruts/heats + power and hierarchical omegaverse dynamics; shift in balance of power; claiming; gn!reader; rambly as hell bc im writing this while sleep deprived but! the worms. they are going through it!!!

alpha soap who, traditionally, goes for omegas but you—

oh, how he wants you.

it was a fortunate coincidence, one that has johnny turning to the lord if only to give his thanks because he knows that none of this would have been possible if he just happened to be even a minute late. ‘this’ being the shift in the wafting scents that filled up the little, and on the brink of bankruptcy, bookstore in the corner of the street.

it’s never packed in the weekdays so johnny often goes there to unwind when his senses are overstimulated, feeling his eyes straining in their sockets and his throat closing up almost like he’s having an allergic reaction—he’s had it checked before and leslie said he doesn’t have any allergies.

patches are advertised but no one in this town ever sees them as priority because of how archaic the town still remains, but also because almost everyone is bonded. don’t mind the fact that scent patches are not only for single folks but whatever.

point is that if johnny was tired, he would find reprieve in the bookstore long enough that he was able to gather his bearings and brave another trek around the city because a mission is still a mission, and overloaded senses just needed to be dealt with as quickly as possible.

today should not have been any different. today should have just been another quick break; another quiet lull as johnny forced the buzzing senses into silence enough that he could think again.

today should have just been another day.

but then johnny was opening the door to the bookstore at the same time that someone was walking out—knobby shoulders bump against his—and johnny’s emotions flare up, eating at the reason straining at his mind. something like a storm explodes in the corners of his head, and johnny really should have realized then what it was.

it was not just oversensitivity. it was not just another bout of overloaded senses. it was—

something warm churns from the base of his stomach, before winding down his body until it pools on the plane of his spine. it felt like molten glass or liquid mercury; dragging. marking.

sticky. liquorice.

johnny breathes in, the air passing through his mouth instead. then, something buttery—like wine aged within the barrel—erupts on his tongue. it tastes like honeyed new wood.

like an alpha in a rut.

he turns, suddenly hyperaware of everything, before lashing his hand out to reach for the stranger before they could leave. the touch not soothing, and it has the alpha growling at johnny. the sound rumbles from the base of your throat, like an alligator’s bellow, and yet it made johnny��s gums ache. they want his teeth to gnaw. to tear. to mark.

you growl again, this time in warning, and johnny has spent enough ruts to understand what you want. you want to leave. to hightail out of the shop and maybe even the city, before crawling into your bed—not a nest, johnny trills to himself, not with how clean your scent is because you’re unmated—to spend your rut alone.

lord, would you fuck your own fist? or fuck a toy for your knot? would you fuck your hole too? fill it up too, or could you only cum if you are the one doing the filling?

whatever it is, johnny promises to overwrite your lonely experience. he’s here now, after all, isn’t he? and don’t alphas need help?

so johnny still doesn’t let go, his strength exceptional especially against an alpha whose rut is beginning to swell. instead, he replies to your growls with a snarl, one that is ripped from the rumble of his chest, before showing off his jagged fangs.

it is an archaic way of challenging an alpha, and he knows that no one follows the tradition anymore, but habit is difficult to change and johnny finds himself posturing against you, a shocked alpha whose raging storm of lust flickered just enough to allow johnny to fully tug you out of the bookstore and into the little winding path away from the streets. you protest, trying to shake him off, but you are so, so weak and johnny is so, so powerful, and he needs to do something before he could even think about letting you go.

johnny’s seen it done a handful of times back at the base. it’s not something price usually dishes out, but it was something everyone knew he could do. and one that he could do well. johnny remembers seeing it for the first time and thinking that betrayal will never even cross his own mind because there is something far worse than having a target on one’s back and that was—

it was to—

force an alpha into submission.

johnny remembers kyle’s interest and ghost’s morbid curiosity. hell, he even remembers his own anticipation when their captain had dragged a traitor to the centre pit by the scruff, his pheromones overflowing and stifling like a heavy fog. johnny remembers how john had made it seem so easy; how he was able to coax a gentler scent out of connors when price had cornered the alpha to the point that he bore their captain’s full weight. then, johnny remembers the marking.

the way their captain’s teeth dug into connors’ skin before tearing, and tearing, until the bite took. until the mangled mess left on connors’ olive skin would be a permanent fixture.

until connors’ alpha scent turned softer. prettier.

(price led connors to his room, and the two stayed there for days. no one questioned or teased because they all knew that bitching an alpha sometimes was better than breeding an omega.

and their captain had all the rights to call dibs on connors.)

johnny remembers all of this as he leads you away. his palms have turned clammy, gums aching once more with need. with ever-growing desire. he hears you hiss at him, snapping that he better let you go and that he fuck off before you do something he’d regret but johnny is deaf to all your threats because they’re empty.

lord, he knows you could even barely stand up straight right now—your knees knock against each other with every wobbly step. but he lets you talk; lets you use your words as shield because johnny keeps leading you away from view.

he sees a secured nook, one that was hidden away from prying eyes—you’re his, after all—and begins to settle.

to prepare for the feast now that the hunt’s over.

he pushes you forward, until all your front is pressed against the wall. your cheek is smooshed, tiny pebbles digging into your skin, and he knows that all of that would be unpleasant later when the adrenaline’s gone, but johnny can’t find it in himself to care. because he follows soon, folding himself over your back before burying his face on the crook of your neck.

you freeze. johnny takes that moment to take a deep drag of your smell.

your scent fills his senses once again, overtaking his coherence and bypassing his rationality to drown himself in the strong aroma wafting from you. it’s too good, too delicious, that it has johnny rumbling, pleased with himself for picking you up all for him because you will be, and are, his now.

the weight of his tongue and the throbbing of his gums echo his thoughts.

his. hishishis—

“god,” johnny croaks out, the first he’s said since this ordeal. “you smell absolutely divine.”

“sir. sir, please—”

“shh,” he says, pulling the collar of your shirt back. “it’d be over soon.”

“no— sir! i don’t— please—”

blood bursts in johnny’s mouth and his alpha sings in pleasure.

mine. mineminemine.

[randomingoftherandomness]

Okay poll time

Choose your adventure, kids!