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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Five Shades of Hunnam

President • King • Captain • Pilot • Gentleman

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2 of this crazy filthy fantasy of getting gang-banged* by five versions of Charlie!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Part 2 is written based on the results of this poll asking which Hunnams y’all would prefer in each hole 🤪

Pairings: Jax Teller + King Arthur + Will Miller + Raleigh Becket + Raymond Smith ... x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, gang bang* (5 on 1), *NOT gang r*pe – fully consensual, reader enjoys getting ravaged in all of her holes 🙃 Request: Kinkfest request from @itsme-autumn

Word Count: ~3.3k

GIFs by misterhunnam | hunnamsource | charllehunnam

... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]

“Tell me, baby. Do you want us to treat you like a lady...? Or whip out all five of our cocks and just go fucking crazy?”

The fact that Jax Teller is here in your room—standing among four other men just as stunning as him, all in the form of Mr. Charlie Fucking Hunnam—the fact that Jax just said that to you... is honestly too hot to be true.

What the hell are you supposed to say to that? Supposed to do...?

You’re soaking wet and need them bad. So horny you feel fucking dead. You want to speak and yet you can’t. King Arthur has Excalibur in hand; the way you’re feeling right this instant, hurts as if that goddamn legendary sword stabbed you straight through.

With fire in his eyes of icy blue, Jax takes a few bold steps toward you. Your gaze falls to his crotch on impulse, and it’s clear from the bulge in his jeans... he’s extremely well-hung. So damn thick. So damn long. So damn big it’s obscene. It’s not as if you’re shocked—Jax Teller always walked and talked like someone with a massive cock—but still, just seeing... is believing like fuck. Plus he’s hard as a rock.

“C’mon, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue...?” he taunts, not ashamed to whip out a ridiculous pussycat pun. It’s so painfully dumb, but when Jax Teller says it... you basically cum. He’s a devilish dick of a dom, and he loves to flaunt it. “Bet that pussy could use some tongue on it. I mean, if you’d want it.”

Oh Goddd—you cannottt... that shit is just too fucking much, to be honest.

Thankfully Captain Will is behind you to catch your full weight, as you literally start to faint. And the feel of his touch on your skin has you falling all over again. Your poor cunt is in pain. So horny it’s insane, short-circuiting your brain.

But you’re still wide awake and conscious, well aware of just how fucking bad you want this. Every man in the room.

Will reads your mind, now as he holds you from behind. Chuckles sadistically against your ear and it’s fucking divine. “Mmm, maybe if we make her cum... then her brain will be able to function and send us all home.”

“To hell with going home,” Arthur mutters, clearly turned on at the sight of you all hot and bothered. He may be nobler than the others, but he was brought up in a brothel after all and has never denied where he came from. “I swear there’s no woman so fair in all my kingdom...”

“Nor in my dimension,” Ray seconds. “Y/N—ever since we stepped in, I’ve been dying to mention that you are delightfully hot.”

Raleigh smolders, tension in his beefy broad shoulders. The king and the gentleman... aren’t they supposed to be decent like him? Now apparently they just forgot?... “But I thought—”

The President abruptly interrupts. While Will surrounds you from behind, blowing your mind, Jax comes up front. Fucking you up, his words setting a bomb off in your cunt. “Y/N just has to tell us what we all already know she wants.”

And then somehow, you finally summon the words to your filthy whore mouth. Still unable to fathom how you got so lucky. There’s only one way to respond—so you say it now. Say it loud, slutty and proud. “I want... I want you all to fuck me. All at once.”

***************

And so it goes.

You and five versions of Charlie Hunnam, all here in your room, are all ready to burst and give in to your dirtiest thirsts.

First things first: you need Jax Teller’s cock in your throat, and he already knows. He can tell, all too well—and he smirks, hot as hell, because he is the worst. You’ve been so fucking eager to suck off this fictional character ever since you started watching his show.

Now he’s not at all fictional, though. You still cannot believe this is real, and just how good it feels... to know just what’s in store, as you give into all of your instincts to kneel, sinking fast to the floor... that you are actually about to blow the President of SAMCRO.

“Mmm...” the tall blonde biker hums, clearly pleased, as he watches you fall to your knees, reaching now to rip open his jeans like a cheap fucking whore. Jax’s cocksucking hoe. “There we go. Look at that slutty little mouth of yours. Go on and show me what it’s good for.”

Fuck yes, sir. But you’re too breathless now to use your words to answer, as Jax Fucking Teller’s cock is out, so big and hard and proud... a goddamn pillar of perfection...

And you are not about to waste a second, worshiping the President’s erection with your filthy little mouth.

“Unghhh....” he grunts, as you set to work right at once. The sound of his guttural groan starts a flood in your cunt, soaking up while you slobber all over his dick, focusing on the tip. Servicing him with your tongue and lips, loving it more with each lick. Slurping up every sweet drop of precum as it drips.

He is so delicious. You could go on forever like this, as if you and Jax are the only two souls who exist. But you’re not—and the fact that four other versions of the same man are watching right here in this room... just the thought, of five shades of Hunnam, five flavors of your favorite sex god... is so fucking hot.

The truth is that they’re not just here to watch, while you bury your face in Jax’s crotch. They’re here to touch. They’re here to fuck. They know that you want all five of their cocks. You’ve never wanted anything so much.

And just your luck... they want you too. These five versions of Charlie are incredibly turned on by you, though it seems too good to be true.

All of a sudden, you feel hands upon your skin as someone hoists you off the floor. King Arthur has just set aside his sword, stripped off his shirt—oh God, his chiseled muscles are so hot, so hard it hurts—and flings you easily over his shoulder like a little fucktoy whore.

“The fuck—” the President protests as your mouth slips off of his cock, with a loud pop, once the king swiftly lifts you up. Jax was not at all set for this blowjob to stop. He wants more of this mind-blowing head. “What the... I wasn’t done yet...”

“Did you not hear what Y/N said?” Arthur reminds him, as he carries you across the room and throws you down onto the bed. The way he effortlessly handles you like that... you’ve never been so wet. “The lady wants all five of us at once. You took that pretty little mouth of hers—such a sweet hole to fuck—but there are others. Now it’s time for her to take a royal cock. Give her exactly what she wants. I’m gonna lay claim to her cunt.”

Then he attacks you with a fierce animalistic grunt, tearing his leather pants away to free his meat, and ripping off your clothes as well to make sure that you feel all of his heat. His feral dominance is everything you need. The way he grabs and gropes your tits, with one of his hands... while the other reaches down to stroke your clit... holy fucking shit. You seriously can’t. It’s more than you can stand.

“You think you own that cunt?” Jax comes to butt in, all of a sudden. “Think just ‘cause you’re king you can do what you want? Well, think again. I said I wasn’t done.”

The President then reaches right under Arthur, before things can go any farther. Grabs you by the shoulders to pull you up into a better position. Like every inch of you belongs to him.

Both of these men are just manhandling you at their whim, and it feels like heaven to be sinking into such a state of submission.

The king of England and the king of Charming end up grappling for dominance for a few moments, until their struggle is cut short by a quick interruption: the captain. He’s sick of this childish behavior from them. No matter the problem, Will Ironhead Miller can always propose an efficient solution.

“Cut the bullshit—it’s not rocket science, you idiots,” he says as he tells the men how to best handle their business. “Look: Y/N sits on the king’s cock, then biker boy stands at the side of the bed, so that she can lean over and give him head.”

His suggestion is met with a pause.

Jax is first to break it, while you lie on the bed wet and naked. Glaring alpha male daggers at Ironhead, chest proud and puffed. “What, you think you’re the boss?” he indignantly scoffs.

Arthur huffs, his own ego a little bruised too. But then poses the question to you, his voice all at once tender yet rough. “That sound good to you, love?”

You cannot help but swoon at the word he just called you. How is it he’s so fucking hot, yet so cute...? Your head bobs in a dumb speechless nod; it’s the most you can do.

“Yeah, ‘course it does,” the captain confidently gloats, as you settle into the perfect position that he had proposed. Take the king in your cunt and the President deep in your throat. “Just what she loves. Dick in her mouth and her pussy. Especially because this leaves her pretty little ass ready for me.”

You could honestly die at the thought—that sounds painfully hot...?!? And so dirty... you’ve never once taken two dicks in two holes, let alone three in three... but goddamn do these men make you thirsty.

The second you sit down on King Arthur’s cock... your world is fucking rocked. He’s so epically big—just the same size as Jax’s enormous dick—speaking of which, you go straight back to being the President’s cocksucking bitch. Jax grabs you by the head from where he is standing at the side of the bed, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he feeds you his huge cock to suck. Your face will always be his to fuck.

And you still can’t get over your luck.

“Such a good little cockslut,” Jax snickers at you as he swiftly shrugs out of his kutte. Then the flannel beneath, knowing that looking up at his broad sculpted chest and his firm rippled abs is exactly what you want and need. You take his dick deeper this time around, gagging on his massive meat, gulping every inch down, and he’s so long and thick that it feels like your jaw fucking broke.

It feels so goddamn good to get wrecked, especially now with the words he says next. “You like the way I own this filthy little throat? God, you’re filthy as fuck. Taking my dick so good. Bet you can’t wait to swallow my load. That’s it, slut. Suck that cock till you choke.”

His dirty talk is so hot you can’t even cope. You used to imagine it back when you were just a fan of his show—now it’s actually happening though, and it’s more than your inner fangirl ever hoped.

And of course, it’s the instant your eyes roll back into your head, as both Arthur and Jax fuck you up on your bed, till you’re ready to burst... that the captain decides to step in and take full control, over another hole. If you thought taking two cocks at once was already the best and the worst, nothing could have prepared you for taking a third.

But the truth is you love how it hurts.

Having Jax Teller fucking your facehole all sloppy and juicy, while King Arthur slams his royal scepter into your soaking wet pussy, and Will Miller shoves his brutally big dick in your tight little ass, taking your cheeks in his tight grasp and dishing out punishing slaps... it feels like all your dreams are coming true at last. Literally cumming true at that. God, it feels so fucking good to be so fucking bad. It’s by far the best sex you have ever had. Satisfying all your sluttiest thirsts.

And as if shit could get any hotter... you’d almost forgotten that there are two others.

Two other equally beautiful versions of Charlie: the savage yet soft-spoken gentleman Ray, and the soft-hearted fighter pilot Raleigh.

You don’t even have enough holes in your body for all of them. Not sure whether and how you can handle another two Hunnams. But hot damn are you happy to tackle that problem.

As Jax and Will and Arthur keep railing you harder, filling you in every way you want... you hear another voice from nearby in the room. All at once cool and classy, yet naughty and nasty. It has to be Raymond. “Well now, who knew that this lovely woman... would turn out to be such a kinky fucking cunt.”

Ughh, fuck—you moan desperately all around Jax’s cock, the only way that you can respond. Who knew? No one. You didn’t even know it, till this moment. But now all five shades of Hunnam do. Their presence in your room has definitely brought it out of you.

At the gentleman’s words, the President flashes a smile and a sadistic little chuckle. All the while keeps on ruthlessly ravaging your filthy little fuckhole. Driving his dick into the back of your throat till it hurts. Till your slobbering tongue and your bottom lip smush up against his big balls. Addresses Ray as well as Raleigh, who is standing quietly along the far wall. “Tough luck for you all, but this bitch is fucking full. Too bad she’s only got three holes...”

“She’s got two hands, though,” Ray points out, coming toward you now, his footsteps so deliberate and slow. “What do you all reckon they’re good for...?”

Oh, good Lord...

“Stroking? Squeezing...?” he asks, reaching to take one of your hands in his dominant grasp. Wrapping your fingers tight around his throbbing shaft. You cannot even anymore. Just cannot even... “Mmm, it seems to me that Y/N summoned up five Hunnams for a reason. To be used up like a proper fucking whore.”

Three cocks have swiftly turned to four, and you can feel poor Raleigh bolting toward the door. This filthy business goes against his soft, pure heart. He’s never witnessed—let alone dared to take part—in such a hardcore pornographic scene as this...

But here he is. And can’t deny that he’s rock fucking hard, as you can tell from one quick glance, out of the corner of your eye, at the massive bulge in his military pants. And you’ll be damned before you let that pretty boy pilot escape from this. He fucking can’t. You need two cocks in your two hands.

“Don’t pussy out on us like that,” Will masterfully commands, beckoning Becket toward the bed. “You know we’re all just Y/N’s guests; this is her universe. So we’re just... here to satisfy her thirsts.”

And then he grabs hold of your shoulders, to anchor himself as his thrusts in your ass become faster and bolder, which ends up pushing your head deeper down in Jax’s crotch. Slamming into you like it’s his job. And it’s too fucking much. Fucking you the fuck up.

But you don’t ever want it to stop.

Raleigh seems reluctant to abide by Will’s orders. But something compels him to do as the captain said—come toward the bed, like a good little soldier. “You guys are the worst...”

“No, far from that,” Arthur replies with a filthy laugh, as he keeps on splitting your wet pussy in half with his majestic staff. “This may look bad, but how it feels...? Fucking unreal. Quite honestly the fucking best.”

Oh God fuck yes...

You can sense Raleigh coming closer toward the bed with timid steps. Can feel his captivated blue gaze watch your body as it bounces on the mattress. You’ve lost track of who’s thrusting the hardest, the fastest. It’s all just a beautiful big fucking mess...

“Now let’s see if the fifth cock is as big as all the rest,” Jax playfully suggests. “See if this dirty little slut can take us all at once. Just like she wants. Let’s put our fucktoy to the test.”

“Fine, if you all insist,” the pilot yields at last. “But only ‘cause she wants it. Honest.”

“Just shut up and let her get her hands on it,” Raymond grunts, frustrated and impatient, until Raleigh finally gets in position.

And once it happens—once you wrap your fist around his rock hard cock, getting completely fucked, by five versions of Hunnam all at once... it’s even better than you had ever imagined.

You eagerly jerk both men off, all while the other three keep ravaging you good and hard and rough. You feel so full, in all your holes, and more, down to your deepest core. Your inner whore. This is exactly what you live for, what you love. And you won’t ever get enough.

By the time all five Hunnams are ready to soak you in their fucking cum—which happens at the same time for all of them, since apparently they’re somehow in unison, being all versions of the same person from different dimensions... by the time that happens, you’ve already lost count of your own orgasms.

This whole session, for your slutty ass, has just felt like one epic extended climax. Will and Arthur pounding into you in a perfect rhythm, from the front and the back, while you jack off Raleigh and Ray, all while gagging on Jax... you could do this all day every day. And there’s no other way for your body and soul to react.

You’re nothing but a fucktoy for five shades of Hunnam and that is a fact.

As the three sex gods buried balls deep in your holes fill them up so deliciously full, the other two drop their loads all over the cheeks of your ass and the curve of your back. And you’re having an absolute heart attack. How is a mere mortal bitch supposed to survive this...? Your brain is blown to bits. At this point it’s an actual struggle to even exist.

But you’re a shameless whore, just desperate for another hit. For fucking more. Of all the countless possibilities of five versions of Charlie in your three holes and two hands... all you want is to try literally every combination, and then once you’re done, just repeat them again and again and again.

It is literally raining men. Not just any men—five incarnations of your fucking sex god obsession. All five of them are living breathing perfection. Wrecking you till it hurts, till you burst, fulfilling all your thirst, in every way from every direction.

So maybe eventually you’ll have to send them back to their respective dimensions...

... But till then? You will sure as hell make the most of this mind-blowing multiverse blessing. Maybe if the sex keeps on being this epic they won’t even dream of leaving. Just won’t even...

And you’ll be more than happy to host them forever in this dimension. Can’t imagine any damn thing better than five incarnations of Charlie, right here fucking you in your bedroom. Because honestly, five shades of Hunnam... are five shades of heaven.

***************

Okayyyyy so I know this was FUCKING INSANE FILTHY SHIT but I hope there are some kinky bitches out there who enjoyed it! And would love to hear if you did!! 🤪

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davidjjohnston3 · 3 years

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The trees are straight and true here, and the help comes without seeming harpoons. I considered some insane things which were ‘above my pay-grade’ and as is my wont reflected on the state and implications of my former profession and what old friends and pharons meant to me. Right now think that my core goal in life is not to blow myself up. As a former would-have-been SecState said, ‘I love so many people.’ I am only sad that trying as I did to uproot that carrot of love just now could have resulted in the demolition of an entire root-network, of at least my own excision therefrom.

‘Some people’ want revenge against life for not going their way or not being the color or fragrance or face shape they like or feel it ought to be - ‘no that is not what I meant at all.’ They will never hold a life reliable which doesn’t resemble their ideal, imago, or ‘soul-idol’ &c. The meaning of the name ‘Cordelia’ as in King Lear is something like ‘heart’s ideal.’ I was driving and considering a novel that I feel touched absolute supreme greatness without knowing it or in a way that could mislead some readers Mrs. Mary HK Choi’s Yolk a novel I looked forward for a very long time. I had all these references and fractal coreferences and forgot about actual birds, like what does the chick eat in the egg.

‘Blood is the life’ - I liked etymologies for a long time and my intellectualism caused me acute trouble in Confirmation Class at Morrow Memorial United Methodist Church in about 1998. ‘Pastor’ Gretchen taught us the word root ‘consacramentum’ which comes from dipping the hand in blood in the concave of a Roman shield - those huge rectangular shields which could be used in formation as ‘testudo’ or turtle to stop projectile weapons and allowed soldiers to make pin-point stabbing attacks from a ‘matrix(?)’ of high protection. I forget what kind of animal was killed to pool the blood in the shield but it might have been a rabbit.

I was reading ‘Revelation,’ I don’t recall what everyone else was talking about. Some kind of community service project, interview your parents, buy a wedding-magazine and make a whole plan for how you would get married and how much it would cost (and while you’re at it describe how you would 1) restore a classic Shelby Cobra using newspaper and Krazy Glue 2) drive foresaid drop-top to the Moon).

The Pastor was a pipe-smoker named ‘Painter’ who used the NY Lotto’s ‘Hey you never know’ slogan to describe sth like Pascal’s Wager; OTOH St. Paul teaches us that everyone is born knowing God exists (Romans). The problem is that people fail or omit to glorify Him or subsequently ruin or betray their own best efforts through blasphemy, turning or falling away, cowardice, denial, attachment to certain sins or being ‘yoked unequally’ with non-believers.

I reflected starting in 2008 that I was shy of my ‘first love’ (rather, the woman I fell in love with at 14); at the time I gloried or reveled in the shyness like a Wallace Stevens poem that ends, ‘And not to have written a book.’ I could’ve written a few books by now or walked away from book-writing or changed my mind / specified which kind of book I might have written and for whom.

I remember always admiring the ‘magic’ of literature and feeling sad I had no characters or world of my own to work magic with. Star Wars and my own life and later much else supplied ‘materia poetica’ and till the point that I began to think in fiction and became addicted to interpreting my own in ‘story-ideas’ although that is not to say that what happened around me didn’t happen.

America is trying to become a better country in numerous valences, loving our neighbors, holding each other accountable. ‘Justice’ with or without the marks is important. It is a divine Judgment that Covid fell on the world even if eventually we all shall learn who devised the virus or leaked it or modulated its mutations. I was eager to rejoin the world feeling I might overcome my mental illness but I mishandled specific questions and tests. I ended up turning people against me and creating monsters more than ever as well as perhaps terminally sabotaging any chance I might’ve had of fulfilling a dream or making good on the past. I have a lot of opinions on the CCP but should’ve focused on love and family and personal responsibilities as in the past or at least held to my long-standing feeling that Chinese people deserve better rather than associating myself with hard-liners and racists or those who would simplify issues in order to bring about ultimate victory without temperance or concern for the side-effects.

In Milwaukee where I lived for far too long everyone’s spirit - electric, intellectual, visory(?), informational et cetera seemed to be militating against everybody else’s. There were fake vaccines, radioactive ice cream (or thermogenic ice-cream), gun-battles as usual, lines crossed, all kinds of scores that people tried to settle. I also realized that the police were probably tracking for years my various attempts to obtain weapons from samurai-swords to handguns though the purpose was defensive and I can only trust at this point that some good lawyer will prevent the bad lawyers and cops from presenting the most damning circumstantial case they could. People in Milwaukee own AK-47′s, automatic shotguns, probably all kinds of explosives, improvised chemical weapons and (’our Black brothers’ - Schopenhauer) biological weapons - the cops don’t stand a chance that I can tell and even the National Guard perhaps could get outclassed by retired military. I had told myself for years that it was only the ghetto’s that bore witness to this paramilitary equipage and that the retired SEAL Team 4 member with the ‘Stop Socialism’ and ‘Jobs Not Mobs’ sign on his front lawn would protect me from the Maoist-Covid Night of the Long Knives but I feel I tempted God a lot in the past.

I read all these books and took to heart that people thought I was just entertaining myself with but now as then I should’ve guarded my heart or not begged the question of what others thought about me or saw in me. I literally felt of late ‘I am the anti-Christ’ - good-looking at times, preach world peace, ‘form of godliness,’ want to be friends with everyone, build bridges - and had to rack my brains to come up with an ‘anti-Christology’ and science / concept of the Whore of Babylon just to make sure it was more than me alone. I also wished to simplify my past and help kids ‘get life right the right time’ doing battle with philosophies that opposed this consciously or otherwise but stepped into numerous minefields and also tried running when I should’ve flown over.

Everyone’s trying to get rich and build back better and I profoundly admired the American President for doing, finally, apparently, what presidents had tried to decades even as I remember ‘Flowers 1881′ a poem that implies that basically teachers can do only so much before turning their kids loose in a world no one has yet fixed and which others keep breaking; from a California almanac that also instructed me that the same old debates and cross-fires and burdens plague teachers as always, not that it is an ‘impossible profession’ but honestly that God won’t let us establish Heaven on Earth or at least not me or at least not America or at least not teachers who savor the experience of being a teacher or the beauty of their students more than the outcomes or commitment or intrinsic value of the work or the confirmed identity / vocation / personhood of the instructor. There are always new and old at any rate and different cultures all describe the teacher as needing to keep both alive; as do descriptions of higher education and scholarship.

I questioned my qualifications / background and wondered about re-training but can’t afford tuition anywhere so I am trying to cling to the core of my capabilities / blessings. ABC and XYZ. The glory of the soul or souls.

I kept theorizing Russian literature as well as weapons-systems and ultimate destiny, sailing ships, noble names, divisions, the flaming sword of Archangel Gabriel, the mission of Russia today with respect to the world order. I am also simply trying to be healthy and stop for a while trying to parse out who was the love of my life or what it still left in terms of action or redemption or justice or surrender or mitigation or meeting new friends or propounding the kind of understand with carefulness I have believed in - ‘saving people from themselves.’ Driving up here I remember being distressed at a gas-station in California when I was about 5 or 6 since the pump was leaking, being very upset with my parents and family. In those days I also disliked animal-cruelty though the world today seems so depraved and deprived with respect to human interests I would make no bones about neglecting most all animals outside of military or police use. When I was about 3 I saw white kids set a frog on fire; my mother has a history of running over cats.

I dislike winging it and taking risks. There is a song I call to myself ‘Run Away’ though its title is ‘Paradise.’ I am not a utopian communist for believing in secular justice and its instrinsic value... I wonder whether when I helped people in the past there were always strings attached or maybe I was just trying to close my case and discharge my responsibilities too rapidly without allowing others to gestate or make an abode in my heart besides and beyond what I could get out of them, glorifying myself, or tell others about.

What is motherhood? What is travail? Is there a kind of problematic ‘female gaze’ as feminists talk of a ‘male gaze’ associated with sadism or fascination / fetishism? It’s psychology which is not my first love at all since it appeared pretentious and distracting and retarding (in the literal sense of slowing down).

I also remembered reading various things about Victor Hugo whose ‘93′ is an important novel today due to its techno-utopianism, feminism or ‘new model egalitarianism,’ fusion of revolution and religion, etc. But I had forgotten ‘Les Miserable’ with its themes of ransom or eventual recompense, genealogies, caution, and more none of which is to negate the various complains against me or death-warrant from China or my parents with their partial private readings of Proverbs (’Let’s stone David for embarrassing us / not doing precisely what we want’ - no mention of witnesses, tribunals, questions, mitigation-hearings, actual counsels of judges etc. but just American-German ‘coalitions of the willing’ ‘run and get my gun’ ‘team-building’ etc. which in my experience ends with tanks on the street and military dictatorships as when at the end of the CultRev PLA regulars were gunning down former justice-fanatics who’d been stripping women, kicking pregnant stomachs etc. as in The Vagrants). Naturally having grown up in a family fascinated with Lee Kwanyew and Arnold Schwarzenegger and conflicted about ‘fascism’ I had reservations about the United States’ ability to suddenly dress up and ‘stand at perpetual moral attention’ but I guess my own problems are just that I am poor with a rich kid’s mind and no one really likes me except strangers and faraway friends who were easily spooked and/or just couldn’t be there. ‘King of South shall attack and King of North shall crush them with chariots &c.’ - in the end righteous will prevail whichever side of the line I end up on in the final assessment. I also remembered today a novel called ‘The Old Capital’ about a bad artist father, a virgin daughter, straight and true pines. Some other aspects of this novel are silly as well as criminally problematic and there's a lot of that going on in new-old old news America / Babylon or at least to quote my favorite lawyer / leave lawyering movie 'First let's get out of Milwaukee.' Miss the land of June snow.

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ghoultyrant · 7 years

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FoZ Notes 20

Here we go. We’re really getting into Elves and the larger state of the world now!

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Somehow Derflinger was fully aware of everything that happened to Saito after the prior swordbody broke. He refuses to talk further on the whole "Gandalfr/Sasha using me to stab Brimir through the heart" thing because Sad.

Tiffania continuing to have self-esteem problems. Dammit. Can we go back to Badass Line Tiffania?

An island (kinda) known as the Dragon's Nest, a bizarre mass of pillars of stone sticking randomly out of the ocean. Luctiana has a friend who lives here. It used to be a volcano, but not anymore. Oh wait the buddy lives somewhere underwater. Luctiana apparently expects Tiffania and Saito to just be able to hold their breath for the whole dive, but when they object she rolls her eyes and casts a spell that lets them temporarily breathe underwater because of course such a spell exists. Oh and she makes Derflinger temporarily rustproof, because of course.

Said waterbreathing spell apparently turns water into air as it enters the throat. That... sounds really miserable, actually, but the story treats that as a perfectly good explanation with no unpleasant implications whatsoever.

Turns out Luctiana's friend is inside one of the pillars. Said friend? A massive Water Dragon called Mother Sea. She's actually a Rhyme Dragon because of fucking course. Dark silver scales that look blue at a glance somehow. Coral horns. Rhyme Dragons live long enough that Mother Sea's grandmother was a little girl six thousand years ago.

Mother Sea asserts that Rhyme Dragons have accepted they're going extinct so, like, whatever man. 's all cool dude. Bizarrely, she talks about God's will instead of, you know, the Great Purpose. And even though she keeps referring to Brimir as The Devil.

Wait, Luctiana is asserting 'barbarians' have no sense of shame in regards to kissing? Goddammit, she introduced herself completely naked and soaking wet! This isn't even cultural difference stuff with deliberate irony. This is just shit writing.

Finally get explicit confirmation that Shaitan's Gate/Devil's Door is the same place Halkeginians call the Holy Land. Derflinger alludes to a "Teleportation Gate", which is probably the same thing. I can already see the writing on the wall: whatever idiocy I'm imagining now regarding the Gate, canon will trump it.

There's a, what, third kind of Water Dragon? It gets compared to both eels and crocodilians. And it's a dumb, aggressive creature. You know, like Saito.

Derflinger just... talking underwater, ain't no thang. I... can't really criticize it (It’s not like he’s got vocal chords or whatever) but I still don't like it.

Submarine hidden in the sea nearby Dragon's Nest. Nuclear sub, specifically. And somehow Saito's Weapon Feedback Bullshit allows Derflinger to know that its power source is 'particles banging into other particles'. aaaargh

To no one's surprise except Saito (because he's retarded) the nuclear sub has nuclear weaponry. Shocking.

Oh my fucking god Luctiana ALSO has a spell for allowing people to talk underwater. (The quality gets compared to a shoddy radio)

For a minute there I thought the author was going to be quasi-intelligent and have Saito consider threatening the Elves by firing the nuke from the submarine. There'd be a lot of problems with this idea, but they're manageable, particularly when you consider that Colbert is a TinkerSpark. But noooo, Saito has looted the thing -because nuclear ICBMs are very small and lightweight, you see- and is thinking to himself how he can threaten the Elves via manually detonating the thing. This is insanely stupid nonsense, quite literally suicidal, and if he has to get close to detonate the thing they can just, you know, wreck the nuke -nukes aren’t even something that detonates explosively when shocked or something! This is just a bad plan on every level I can think of.

Supposedly the familiar summoning spell's words don't matter, only the feeling "in your heart". I have manifold issues with this claim, particularly since it's being introduced out of nowhere to justify Tiffania performing the summoning when the story finally feels like having it actually happen.

Oh my fucking god we FINALLY got a kind of explanation for Tiffania having a Ring of Andvari! Only ten volumes too late! Still no explanation for how she knew how to use the damn thing, though. Oh, and Elf Mom died by lol throwing herself in front of Tiffania when a knight tried to kill Tiffania. Yeah. Sure. THAT makes sense for an all-powerful wargod (ie an FoZ Elf) to do, as opposed to... casting Counter, or making the knight's head explode, or whatever.

Seriously fuck this author.

Elven council meeting room... is at the top of the tower? That's not what we were told last volume. [I seem to have lost almost all my notes from last volume on the Elves? Not sure how that happened. You’re not missing much, though]

"Steed-blooded party", an Elven political faction. They seem to be the Elven version of ultraconservative Catholics. Bidashal hates them.

As is typical of Japanese fiction, political leaders just don't want any fuckups happening on their watch so that nobody can blame them for said fuckups. So the Elven council is a bunch of people who don't want to do anything because they might get blamed if things don't work perfectly.

Bidashal is the Chairman of the Barbarian Countermeasures Committee.

For some reason, the Elves A: know Luctiana brought Saito to the Dragon's Nest and B: find this utterly horrifying. [The second bit actually kind of makes sense later. The first bit is never explained or justified]

Turuk is the current head of the Elven council. He's an old man in the same mold as Osmond, though so far not perverted, just a drunkard... wait a second. Osmond is supposed to be OLD, when we're introduced to him! Like possibly over two centuries old! I think the author entirely forgot about that, given how the story has been talking about Halkeginian and Elven ages for volumes unending.

Elves have a crime of "ethnic rebellion". It's unclear what it is, other than punishable with death. Really not selling me on this noble, peaceful Elves thing, here. The "Steel-bloodedparty" is all about killing traitors and 'devils', further undercutting said noble/peaceful thing. For that matter, the idea that they're wise and stuff is being undercut by how politicking for personal gain is occurring even though the Elves basically think they're on the verge of an apocalypse.

The Dragon's Nest apparently is where Earth crap gets dumped en mass by interdimensional shenanigans.

It's a super-duper secret that Shaitan's Gate connects to our Earth. 'Devils' seems to get used to mean Earth humans.

Elven "Nydus" Navy is made of "Dragon Whales". They look exactly like whales, but with scales. No, really, that's what the text says. I’m not mocking it here. I wish I was mocking it.

Fatima Hadat. A Steel-Blooded Party Elf woman with no practical combat experience but a drill sergeant's attitude anyway. She's trying to make up for an aunt's shameful behavior. Also Steel-Blooded Party members are Soviet Union people?? (Comrade etc etc all the time)

Mother Sea has been collecting the junk from Earth, thinking it's Halkeginian or Elven litter, basically.

Finally the story reveals that Dragon's Nest is Shaitan's Gate/the Holy Land. Credit where it's due: this makes perfect sense and I failed to figure it out before the story spelled it out. Six thousand years ago, this area was dry land.

Elves have rifling, Halkeginians... also have it, but nobles have suppressed it because they don't want peasantry getting good weapons. Eeeeeh. We also hear some nonsense about Halkeginian nobles believing weapons to be 'the path to evil'. Since when? And this is from the omniscient narrator, keep in mind, not some biased character where I could assume they’re just out of touch with the rest of their culture.

I just realized I'm halfway through this volume and Louise hasn't had ANY screentime. Would like to punch the author now.

Saito theorizing Derflinger has an Imp-style memory block Sasha put on him that prevents him from remembering things if they would threaten Elves. Sorry, no, shit explanation. A for effort, F for execution.

Random assertion from Derflinger that only 'skilled' Elves can use Counter. You know, that way we can justify Saito being able to win against Elves even though Louise is absent from the plot. Narratively-convenient construction strikes for the five millionth time! Don't think too hard about the fact that he's facing Elven soldiers who logically should be trained fighters, you'll just get an aneurysm and/or an all-consuming desire to murder the already-dead author.

Elves have Windstone-powered guns that work wet.

Oh. Here's the idiotic payoff of all this shit of Tiffania wanting to meet "Elves like her mother": her mom is Fatima's shame-bringing aunt, and Fatima recognizes her ring’s remains (Because remember, the Stone of Andvari part got used up) and gets pissed. sigh

WHAT the FUCK. Tiffania casting Summon Familiar SUMMONS FUCKING SAITO.

NO. THAT IS BULLSHIT. THIS IS THE FUCKING WORST.

YES IT'S BEING USED TO TURN SAITO INTO A FUCKING GODDAMN DOUBLEFAMILIAR KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL

Over with Vittorio he's talking with Julio about feeling bad about his lies: A, there is no 'device'. B, the Void ritual won't stop the Wind Stone Catastrophe. Sasha, the elf, was Gandalfr+other familiar six thousand years before Saito ARGHBLARGHLE THIS STORY IS SHIT

Now Julio is ALSO BECOMING A DOUBLEFAMILIAR BECAUSE HE'S AN EVEN BIGGER MARY SUE THAN SAITO MURDERVERYTHINGIT'STHEONLYWAY

Ominous dialogue implying it's somehow critically important to have the master/familiar folk die while in love with each other.

Elven airships are dragon-towed. The story pretends like this is a superior methodology to Halkeginian airships. Pffffff.

Utterly bullshit claim that Elves perform trade with Halkeginians, implied claim that Halkeginian nobles hate Elves but civilians aren't afraid of them or anything. So all that shit earlier of peasants thinking Elves are cannibals and so on? lol whatever man consistency is for, like, non-shit writers.

So remember how before there was a Germanian castle at the border of the Elf/Germanian border, in desert? Yeah, NOW there's "the Unexplored Lands", a vat region of forest and plains mostly occupied by demi-humans and separating Elven desert from Germanian land. Consistency is for losers lol!!! (Beastmen, ogres, and avianmen, specifically, not that this means much to the audience)

So you remember how alchemy/transmutation is the most basic of earth magics? Hahahahaha the author doesn't, asserting that Guiche is useless in an aerial battle because earth affinity lol.

Claim Elven airships have never lost to Halkeginian airships.

The Sahara has wild boars. I have no idea how plausible this is, so I’ll let it ago. Even if it is bullshit, it just does not rate compared to the whirling shitstorm of everything else going on.

This volume and the previous are implying there's a fair amount of language shenanigans occurring in the original Japanese. Stuff like Elf/people of the desert and Void/work of the devil being indicated to have been said via kanji shenanigans. I'm sort of disappointed at the evidence being that the unusual choice for desert Elves is probably just a pun that’s not surviving into English.

Urge to kill rising. Ali just saved Saito and Tiffania because... ostensibly because he's saving Luctiana and so he will need their help since saving her makes him a race traitor, but that's bullshit. It's just a super-thin way of ALMOST killing off Tiffania for DRAMA and then not having it stick. Fuck this writer.

Ali ALSO grabbed Fatima, because of fucking course.

So after making a big deal about that submarine [As in: Luctiana found the idea of an undersea boat just fucking unimaginable, and not in the “there’s no way barbarians have pulled that off!” sort of way, but in the “That’s not a thing anyone could possibly do!” sort of way] earlier... it turns out Elves have submarines based on having the Stupid Breed kind of Sea Dragon drag around an airfilled whatsit. This is fucking ridiculous, it's like the author has an active hatred of consistency and quality.

End volume.

--------

Aaaaand that's all she wrote.

Volume 21 is barely translated, and volume 22 isn't translated at all. So I'm done until such time as volume 21 gets translated.

This fucking series, goddamn.

So, since it's not gotten into by this point in the story, I went and used the Familiar of Zero wiki to look up what the fourth Familiar actually does: firstly, they can burn their life force to enhance their master's spells. Which. Why? The story has already established that people can do this with their own life force, why does it require a specific special familiar to be able to tap someone else's life force? Secondly, they can "stockpile spells" to "turn themselves into basically a bomb", whatever the wiki means by that.

Honestly, I'd forgive basically anyone for throwing it out entirely and replacing it with something more consistent with the other Void Familiars. Oh, and if I haven't mentioned it already, the name is Lífþrasir, supposed to be "the heart of God".

So. Yeah. I could see someone having coasted through the prior volumes, not thinking too hard and not noticing how the story is inconsistent nonsense, but holy fuck are we experiencing a sudden, extreme dip in quality. And the worst part is it looks like much of it was intended for a long time, so I don’t think I can blame this on whatever killed the author, if he like died of illness or something.

Fuck this series.

#Familiar of Zero #Notes #Argh

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