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hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

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A Doe in Fall (part 7)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie

Part 7 Recognition

It was time to start again. Alastor couldn't forget what his mother had wanted, even if she didn't ask it of him directly. And while he finds his comfort again in killing, Detective Brady finds a lead.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem Burlesquer reader, smut, reader's thighs as ear muffs, referencing cruel racists in the early 20th century south, reference to marital violence, pussy eaten, p in v sex, no creampie BOO, bad dancing, Alastor's southern accent, Alastor's mother, gossip, murder, greed , two idiots pretending they aren't madly in love, poor family planning, lots of 1920's slang with notes for your ease」

I think I fixed the broken tag list!

....it's been over a month. Here's nearly 9000 words of our favorite idiots. I feel weird labeling this smut now as...we are...kinda past the smut point and just making sweet sweet love. lol ugh gross. thank you to everyone whose offered help, donated, and shared the word about my mom! It’s been an immense help and has made her a little emotional (in a good way) <Florida stole my moms teeth— explanation and donation link> unrelated, anyone want some RadioDust?

Minors…. Minors. My inbox counts as interacting when you’re literally in there requesting smut. I know your bio has no age but baby honey darling I can tell by your writing. 🔞 Do Not Interact 🏠🚗

A development he knew was coming even if no one else believed him. A drug addict with debts to the local crime syndicates disappearing was neither suspicious nor a mystery. Everyone was confident it was obvious Tommy was at the bottom of Lake Pontchartrain or halfway to California.

But not to him, not for Detective Brady. He had been on the beat for the better part of a year, convinced there was a connection between some of the disappearances in town.

No one wanted to hear it though, most people didn’t even care the people were missing. Only the occasional wife, concerned how she would keep a roof over her head and food in her kid’s bellies with the man of the house gone. But other than that, no tears or chest beating for the missing men and women.

Which made him confident there were countless more unreported cases. Just because no one missed them, a crime is a crime.

But, no bodies, no blood, no crime scenes… he looked like he had lost the fucking plot to his colleagues.

The city didn’t want the bad press, not to mention the fact there was no actual crime to be reported. Someone up and left down? Okay, he was a wife beater? Probably left with his mistress. The cruel den mother of the home for unwanted kids? Her assistant takes the lead and she moves onto a new town to menace. Probably running from the people angry with her.

But he finally had something. Tommy was pimping out dancers, and even laid hands on one. Surely there was a man looking for revenge for that. Can’t knock around a man’s woman and have it go unanswered.

So he tried again to find the woman whose only name he knew was a moniker. Autumn Hind.

Every time Brady came to the theater, another excuse. You left early. You were on the roof smoking—- oh, you slipped out the back. Weekends were your off days, so that was useless.

“You’re obsessed.” Detective Freeman threw an eraser he’d picked off his pencil at Brady. He had seen the man devolve slowly over the past couple months.

“Thanks.” Brady was staring at his notes.

“Not a compliment, Kenny. Shit happens, people leave town. You’re acting like a handful of no shows are some conspiracy.” Freeman came to stand behind Brady, leaning over to read his notes, “How can you even read that chicken scratch?”

He clapped the notebook shut, “Every report was a person less than liked. What are the chances they all leave town in the middle of the night, last seen in the same general area?”

Freeman patted his shoulder, “Did you just ask me why a bunch of assholes,” he stood up and made a show of stretching out tired muscles, “who liked illegal hooch* and jazz with plenty of enemies disappeared?” (*booze)

Brady slapped his desk, “There! You said it! They had enemies. But what— what if they had one enemy in common. A bar manager or — or a,” he was still looking for that link.

“Kenny, the boogeyman isn’t roaming New Orleans killing people. If the higher ups don’t care, if the families don’t care, it doesn’t matter. Let it go.”

The sleep deprived detective sunk into his wooden chair, swiveling side to side anxiously, “Tommy’s mother cares.”

“Yeah well mom’s are famously bad judges of character.” Slipping on his jacket, he shot a worried look to his partner, “Ya gonna go home? Janet’s probably a mess. You’ve been keeping late hours.”

“Nah not yet. I gotta get to the theater before this dame goes ghost on me again.”

“Yikes, still? You’ve been chasing her for a while.” He was making a slow inching walk to the door.

“It’d be easier if I had some support. I gotta do this on my own time.” A deep sigh, well past the point of hiding his frustration with his colleagues and bosses. Freeman looked over the wrinkled shirt and wilted tie, evidence of a man losing his grip.

“Welp, good luck buddy. Hope you get to the bottom of whatever this is.” He gestured at the messy desk and disheveled man, “See ya tomorrow.”

Brady waved without looking up. His eyes were staring into the black leather of his notepad. Tommy was the only recent assumed victim with any real suspicion. The woman whose husband disappeared after going to see a show? Only enemy to him was her, and she wasn’t strong enough to take him down. Deadend.

Most recent, nice young man from up north. Went out for a good time, hoping to catch a little lady for some stress relief, according to his coworkers. Never showed up at work the next day. No one had a bad word to say about the man. Making him an outlier, but still. He was young, strong, soft spoken. Not an enemy in sight but no family to worry, either. Deadend.

But Tommy. Someone cared he was gone. He was in the jazz game, the drug dens, the illegal drink business, and had a heavy hand. He was the perfect bad man, right?

He looked across his desk. Bad men. The occasional unsavory woman. Maybe it was just their time. They pissed off the wrong people.

Or the wrong person.

Someone who worked downtown, someone into dance and drink, someone with nights free to do his work. Maybe a hired gun? No, some of these people didn’t have the money for that.

Plus, one person and so many missing? That would be unheard of, it’d be some kind of record for Louisiana.

A record Brady could claim.

When he entered the theater James, the manager who replaced Tommy, noticeably rolled his eyes, getting in front of the man. “It’s real bad for business to have a cop in here all the damn time. Come on, if you’re not here for a raid then could you be a little less obvious.”

Brady looked past him, “What do you mean?”

“You’re— what is it? What can I do for you?”

“Here again for Miss Autumn. Care to give her real name yet?”

“No can do. Ain’t my business to tell. She’s finished her set, asked to head home early.” Brady turned and kicked a chair over, a large man approaching behind the manager before seeing the hip badge and backing up. “Nah we’re not doing that. We’ve told her you’ve come by but she’s a busy lady. Several gigs here and there. Enough, you’re harassing the dancers now.”

With a snap, Brady had his finger in the manager’s face, “Whatcha gonna do? Call the cops?”

“She. Isn’t. Here. What the fuck do you want? For me to tie her up and bring her to your station?”

That’d be ideal.

A month, nearly. Coming once or twice a week to try and speak to you but every time he missed you. He was going to snap if he heard one more time you were gone. Maybe everyone was in on it. Maybe you werenin the back right now laughing at him.

Brady scanned the room, “Where’s she live?”

“How the fuck would I know— please, leave.” James gestured to the doors.

He lifted his badge up, waving it at the patrons seated closest to him, “Yall know it’s still illegal to partake-,”

“Jesus! Enough!” The manager pushed him back, flashing an apologetic smile to the guests, “She moonlights Sundays at The Dime near the park on 5th, singing for a friend. That’s all I got about her life off stage. Will you fucking go?”

The detective perked up, “See, was that so hard?”

Finally, he could feel his fingers grasp the shifting shadow that was his only lead.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“I never said sorry.”

You turned your head, not expecting him to say something serious. Waiting, he didn’t add explanation. Sorry? What had he done… ran out of milk? Forgot to bring in the towels before it rained last week? A quick search of your memory yielded nothing.

“For what?”

He was staring off in front of him. “For putting you in danger before. In the park. I am sincerely sorry.”

You’d somehow almost forgotten. It’d been weeks. Every bad feeling that night had brought you had been carried away by good morning kisses and gentle words before sleep. Nearly every night was spent in his bed, Alastor dropping you off at your apartment when he went downtown for work. The incident in the park was a different lifetime already.

Had he really put you in danger? Or had you rushed into the danger of his hobby to feel closer to him?

“I put myself in that situation. You didn't throw me at that guy. I don’t do a damn thing I don’t want to do. You should have learned that by now.”

Tough act for a woman who jumped up to pour some man’s coffee.

You shook your head, you had to stop equating doting on Alastor as a show of weakness. It wasn’t. Even if admitting that meant admitting you were wrong.

But he had put you in danger’s way, he knew it. “No, you wouldn’t have ever been in that situation if it wasn’t for me.”

Your laughter bounced off the car windows, “Alastor, you met me getting choked to death by a strange man. People will always make dangerous situations for women to be in. Don’t act like you’re special.” A sly smile to ease his anxious heart. “I’d rather be in danger for you than just because I’m a woman. If it’s gonna happen anyway, might as well be worth something.”

His hand slipped onto your thigh, expression softening before his own smile grew again, “Don’t lie to my face so easily. I am very special, we can all agree.”

You looked around, the two of you alone in his car on a side street, “All? You know the trunk is still empty, right?”

“Oh, is that so? You’re quite dangerous yourself, I nearly forgot why we were here.” He patted his pockets to make sure he had what he needed. “When I give you a wave, back up to me, okay? Don’t leave the car. Just drive off if-,”

You kissed his cheek, “Shut it. Not a chance. Go give em hell, baby.”

Alastor crumpled against his steering wheel momentarily, your words cutting his heart open in a most wonderful way. He could never have predicted getting kisses before beginning his dark work. What had he done to deserve this? Perhaps proof someone in hell was in full support of his actions. Straightening his back and checking his hair and glasses in the mirror, he flashed you a smile before slipping out of the car.

When Alastor said he was ready to begin killing again, you were a mix of excited and scared. Excited for normalcy to return but scared of the dangers presented there in. You’d been dodging the blue eyed detective for a while already, and moving forward meant possibly making mistakes he could grab a hold of. Not mentioning the risk of someone hurting Alastor again…but for your part in everything, you and Alastor found a compromise.

A deal had been made. You’d stay in the car and bring it to him when he was done. He had asked you flee if something went wrong but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Crawling into the driver’s seat, you tried to remember what he had taught you. How to get it started up, how to make it go backwards. How to make it go, in general. You’d never driven a car. Well, not until Alastor insisted on teaching you. Driving up and down the long stretch of road he lived on, Alastor white knuckling the door handle as you jerked the car forward with every failed shift. You had started on his land, but he feared for his home's safety with you behind the wheel.

Your hands slipped down the steeling wheel, big and round. Your mother would’ve had a hoot had she seen you in the driver’s seat. Clearing your throat, you leaned into the back of the car and double checked the canvas was properly secured.

Another man tonight. The few times you’d both gone out for leisure, having preferred to spend time alone at home, Alastor had gotten gossip that piqued his interest.

You remembered the way the woman’s hand touched his arm when she leaned in. “You didn’t hear it from me but it’s best to avoid French Study on Thursdays. Real piece of work slipping something in drinks and robbing people.” He reported what she had said back to you. It’d panicked you, realizing you were closer to being on Alastor’s list than you’d realized.

“No, the issue isn’t the stealin’. It’s what he does with the people with,” he had been delicate as he said it, taking another long sip of whiskey, “other things of value. And the fact this man has no need to steal. It’s ridiculous! His family has been land ownin’ and well off for generations.” Alastor was always impassioned when discussing the things he hated, even when slipping into drunkenness. His accent came through when he had too much to drink, his real accent. The accent his mother had. “You robbed men for power balance, for their assumptions you were easy to manipulate to begin with. He? Uh, Him? He’s just a piece of shit. He thinks he’s better than everyone else. And no one would report him ‘cause his family name.”

His drink spilled a little, when you had offered to clean it he just slipped the button up off. He lost his usual classy air as the bottle emptied. Which you actually liked.

The benefits of drinking on his back porch was no need to worry about decorum. Music was softly spilling from the open window behind you, Alastor’s prized record cabinet spinning the newest presses.

“It’s like there’s a little bug under my skin,” he wiggled his fingers over his sternum, “It’s gonna dig into my bones if I don’t cut it out.”

Despite your own drunkenness, you nodded and followed along, “So, ya gonna kill ‘em?”

Alastor pouted, making you snort, “I don’t want to think about that right now.” He enunciated every word clearly in his practiced and professional voice.

You’d ended the evening playfully arguing the merits of prohibition on the jazz scene and watching Alastor dance around the wrap around porch. But the conversation hadn’t ended for him.

Little hints he was still focused on it popped up over the following week. Alastor randomly asking you how it felt to be drugged, did you wake up in pain? Embarrassed? Scared? You caught him staring at the greenhouse from the window one morning, lost in thought. Before he had finally said he wanted to go out again, you understanding what that meant, you’d seen him turning a dinner knife over and over in his hand impatiently.

And now here you were. In the car beside a park late Thursday, Alastor having done some scouting while you’d finished up early at the theater.

It took hours. Which was good, it meant Alastor wasn’t rushing. He liked the stalking aspect of killing, of watching someone from across a room knowing exactly how their night would end. And as that man whose name would soon be buried with him alternated smiling and barking orders at staff, Alastor felt his stomach flutter. Like watching a slab of meat slowly turn over the fire. The crueler he was, the worse he acted, the more Alastor found his fingers tapping on the bar with anticipation. Perfect. Damn yourself more. No fake smiles or double faces, no, people like him didn’t even try to play the game others were forced into. Born with money and land already theirs, they didn’t even know the rules.

But Alastor did. Alastor mastered them at the tender age of 14. When he realized his father’s features were a shield. His mother’s lessons on manners and charm his weapons. The first time he was in mixed company, when someone leaned in and whispered a cruel “prank” he had planned for a young dark skinned woman on the other side of the room, he understood. They pulled back and smiled at him, and he managed to muster one of his own. Just smile, they’d take it to mean whatever they wanted it to mean because they thought he was of the same mindset. They assumed it. Like so many other things people would assume about him as he grew.

When he told his mother the story after getting home, she shook her head. When he had asked her what he should have done, she set down her book.

“Well, I’d love to say you should have stood up for her. But I’d also like to have my son above ground.”

He asked her why she couldn’t have both.

“Sweetheart, we don’t usually get the choice to do either, let alone both.”

He offered a solution, after a moment of thinking, “I shoulda buried him first then.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if that was how the world worked?” She returned to her book, “If God just struck em down dead as soon as they hurt people. Better yet, before.”

It would be nice. It was nice. Because Alastor couldn’t wait for God to make the world his mother mentioned. He grinned ear to ear, gloves a second skin, as the man crawled backwards in the grass like an animal cornered. His heart was pounding in his ears. Where to cut first? The gut, his family fat and soft from the money they made off the labor of others? The pale neck of a man who never spent a day outside, instead indoors drugging strangers for sport? The chest covered in a fine cotton shirt he didn’t appreciate?

He wished he had many arms, as many as he could imagine, to slash and tear in tandem.

“What do you want? Money?” the animal asked him.

Alastor shook his head no. No, he didn’t want money.

“Do you know who I am?”

Alastor nodded. “That is precisely why I am here.”

Would he beg? Cry? Bargain? Experience told him it’d be the latter.

“Alright well, if you know who I am you know you’re making a mistake. Here.” The man opened his wallet and pulled out a few greenbacks, holding them out for Alastor. Alastor’s smile softened slightly, remembering tossing you a wallet once before.

He reached down with his left hand to take the money, but instead grabbed the man’s wrist. Swiftly, quicker than the man could process, he took the knife tucked into his belt behind his vest and stabbed the man in the stomach.

Staring into his eyes, he could see his own image looking back at him. Smiling.

Alastor grabbed your face with both wrists, hands bloody and one still holding the knife, and kissed you when he’d flagged you down.

“Is this for bringing the car around without running you over?” Your eyes glanced at the knife beside your head. He apologized, tossing it into the trunk.

“No, just happy to see you.” A mischievous grin that made your knees weak, his body shimmied closer until he was pressed against you, stealing another kiss. His arms stretched out to keep from bloodying you. Your fingers slid up his cheeks to return the kiss. “Thank you, dear.”

When you returned home, to his home, that is, you took to task bringing in the laundry he’d left on the line and putting away the things still on the counters from breakfast. You couldn’t resist going to the second floor room and looking down into the greenhouse. You couldn’t see perfectly well, but you could see nonetheless. Alastor didn’t want you in the greenhouse yet when he was working. He said it was the ugliest parts, the kind that would sure give you nightmares or rob you of your appetite.

Considerate. But, it only made you more curious. Would you be sick if you saw? Would you never eat meat again?

What would you do if you didn’t have any reaction at all?

You watched Alastor leave the greenhouse and lock the door behind him, so you hopped down the stairs to meet him in the hall beside the kitchen.

He’d been sweating, shirt open to reveal a thin white undershirt, and under his arm was a canvas roll. He lifted it up, “Tools. Rinsed them off but I’d like to dry them under the electric lights.” You grabbed the aprons from the wall hooks, Alastor letting you slip it over his head and tie it for him. “Why so tight?”

“I like the way it makes your waist look.” You’d seen him wear it when making biscuits. It made his shape so clear. It reminded you of watching water drip down his sides and roll off his hips in the shower.

He beamed, “I’m listening. What exactly do you like about my waist?” Sharp brows raised as that friendly tongue peeked out at you.

“Hush.” You cooed.

You stood on the long side of the table, him at the short, and took turns wiping the tools dry and checking the other’s work.

As he grabbed each one he would tell you what he used it for. Holding up the garden shears and explaining the point along the blade that had the strongest force. The advantage of curved pruning blades when used on a human body. His eyes were gleaming as he spoke, looking so lovingly at each item like it was a loyal pet.

He finally noticed you were grinning and chuckling softly, so he dropped his smile for dramatic effect, “What? What’s so funny?”

Shaking your head, you set down the next item for him to inspect, “Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re talking about your passions. Your face lights up from the inside out.”

His breath hitched, smile actually lost as he processed every syllable. Your turn now to notice him staring as you looked up from your work. You recognized that look though, the wide eyes and serious lips. The air of the kitchen felt like the atmosphere before a thunderstorm rolled in.

Alastor set the tools back onto the canvas one by one and carried them to the counter. Before returning he picked up a small knife and set it near the edge of the table.

“Come here.” He nodded his head to space in front of him. The way he said it, that tone, made your heart begin to skip beats.

You slid between him and the table, Alastor lifting you up with a startling ease and setting you onto cool wood. Kicking your legs a little, you set nervous hands onto your lap. You wanted to touch him. To pull him by the apron straps into you.

“How do you always say the right things?” He closed the distance between you, one hand on your neck while his mouth came to your ear. “The things I didn’t know I wanted to hear?”

Swimming. Your mind was swimming. “Why is your idea of right the same as my idea of the truth?” You could feel the grin. Sighing into your ear, down your neck, his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table enough to press your core into his clothed erection. Even through his pants and the apron, you could feel him clearly. When did he get so hard? You always wondered in those moments if it was the topic of discussion. Or the knives. Or your need. Biting your lip wasn’t a thought out action, but Alastor loved to see it. Rolling his hips into you in response.

“Wanna go upstairs?” you asked.

He shook his head, slipping off his glasses.

“Oh no, don’t even wanna see me?” You teased, but firm hands held you tighter to him in response.

“I won’t be letting you get far enough away from me for that to be a problem.”

When he leaned down and his lips so very gently pressed into yours, you could feel it. That missing something from before. It was in the air, it was rolling off of his body and dampening your senses. A desire, a drive that you felt that first time you had sex with him in that apartment above the theater. A motivation that was lacking last time in his bed.

His eyes were staring down into yours, waiting for your response. Eagerly you replied by chasing his mouth with yours. A chain of kisses as you tried to ever remember enjoying kissing another person as much as him.

Not a single soul. Why did it feel like this was all you ever needed? Eyes closed and lips on lips, hands in his hair, it felt like you’d been holding your breath all of your life. His body on yours was a gasp of air.

For Alastor, he couldn’t even think of breathing when around you. Let alone when your mouth was on him. Every time you touched him all he could think about was the word ‘affection’.

So when your tongue swiped up his lips, he moaned as he opened for you. Not because he was new to kissing someone with so much lust. He’d grown accustomed to the things you did to him. No, because you were a fever that had taken hold of him and your kiss the medicine that soothed his delirium.

He wondered, was that why people called it ‘love sick’?

“You really like me, don’t you?” He asked, nose sliding up your jaw.

An opportunity presented to you. A chance to spill over the edges.

You pushed it away, legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer.

“Something like that, yeah.”

His hands pressed flat against the table to balance the deep roll of his hips against you. One of your own fell behind you to keep from falling backwards, the other flung over his shoulder. When you moaned into his cheek he captured the sound with his mouth and slipped his tongue back into you.

You liked him. He’d known people to love and not like their partner an ounce, but the way you appreciated his quirks made his heart sing in its brittle cage. You never ceased to see him. The issue with always putting on a show is people tend to be disappointed when the actors become human again. But you never met his persona. He was knife wielding, bloodlusting Alastor from the first word. So when he was himself, you recognized him clearly. Because he was all you ever knew.

And you liked him

You appreciated him.

He dared to think maybe he could inspire more from you. A thought that made him twitch below the belt.

Closer. He needed you closer. He needed you so near to him that he’d never forget the feeling of being wanted. It’d be imprinted on his chest and his arms and his lips.

Impatient hands slipping up your sides, along your neck, down your chest. His greedy mouth suddenly understanding the same greed he once marveled at in your own kisses. Hot tongue sliding over yours, delving deeper into you with every return.

When his hands seemed to come to an agreement, they yanked you forward again. You’d fall off ass-first if he pulled you any further.

You watched with only slight horror has he grabbed the small knife and hiked up your dress in tandem. A gulp, worried the other shoe had finally dropped on a too-good situation.

“Are you particularly attached to these panties?” His eyes were looking up and over his glasses.

“No?” Did you really need panties, you wondered. Ever? Girdles we’re falling out of fashion perhaps you’d all be naked again soon enough. Maybe you two could start another Eden. A pomegranate’s juice the new red staining his skin.

Not even a tremble, his hands lifted each side and sliced them free.

“Oh?” You didn’t have a real question in mind when he tucked the panties into his back pocket. Just a need to express you saw it and didn’t understand it.

Alastor took your hand and pressed it against his hardened length, eyes locked onto yours with a sharpness to them. But when your hand took hold of him and squeezed, everything softened in his features. Funny how where one area grew stiff another melted.

He rolled his eyes closed as you finally undid his belt and pants. A struggle you didn’t see, Alastor trying to keep from pouncing on you like a horny virgin. He didn’t want to rut into you, he didn’t need the pleasure. He needed something he couldn’t see or explain. He just knew you held it behind your teeth.

When your skin pressed into his and you both moaned together he was sure you were the same. One person, split into insufficient parts. Finally lined up flush in place.

When you circled your hips against his aching cock, he wondered what you were chasing after. Was it the pleasure? He’d give it to you in spades.

He was on his knees with his face between your legs before you could close your thighs in surprise.

You needed both hands now to keep from falling back onto the table. “Alastor,” a whine.

He knew better than to talk with his mouth full, so he let two fingers work their way into you with shallow thrusts. Easing you open for him.

“Yes?” His eyes didn’t leave his fingers, glistening under the kitchen light. You hadn't thought much ahead past his name, once his fingers were in you and curling up to find your spongy and soft bundle of nerves your mind had gone empty.

“We can just fuck, if you’re horny.” You watched him watching himself.

“Where’s the fun in that?” His mouth returned to your mound, broad tongue forming a point and finding your clit.

A lazy moving tongue would be frustrating if not for his fingers punishing your g-spot. Consistency was key, and his hand was focused and skilled.

Suddenly you remembered the piano in the sitting room. That’s where you knew that movement from. That clearly practiced muscle memory.

Alastor felt confident everywhere but rarely did he feel comfortable. When your thighs came together and squeezed him at the ears, he felt positively cozy. Would you be so kind as to be his ear muffs come winter? He’d have to remember to ask when his mouth was free. How many cold nights he could now rest assured he would have warmth just a little dive of his head away.

Lowering his mouth, nose buried in your muff, he wriggled his tongue in with his fingers. Not enough, rarely was anything enough any more. He stilled his hand and prodded at your sensitive walls with that intrusive tongue, relishing the little movements you made in response. Taking his digits out entirely, he buried his wet muscle as deeply as he could reach.

The huffs of exhales you were making triggered a moan from him that you felt through your skin. His enjoyment was tripling your pleasure.

Goosebumps ran up your arms at the combine sensations of his moaning and prodding.

When his lips and tongue returned to their uneven teasing of your clit, three fingers now swiping past your inner spot with every thrust, your hands came to his head. Fingers slipping through his hair and gripping every time your body shook. Encouragement, the more you tugged the surer he was he was doing the right things.

And oh, he was. You said the right things but Alastor always seemed to act on them. Your senses lodged themselves between the even stroking of your g-spot and the unpredictable movements of his tongue. One kept the pressure rising as your orgasm climbed, the other pushed you along jolt by jolt.

Curious thing. That night in the park he didn’t have much reaction to your enjoyment, but he found himself not fully softening in his lap as he continued. Normally, unless still physically stimulated or the rare time you stirred something in him, he wasn’t very… battle ready.

But the feeling of you pulling him in by the head, fingers in his hair and thighs at his cheeks; this was different than the others. He was sure now it wasn’t just physical pleasure you wanted. His pride said it was more.

Dozens of times before— he truly was a rake in some aspects, though admittedly it was all in the pursuit of avoiding “sex”, as defined by most, not chasing it — he helped a date find release with his tongue. But it never did anything for him. They moaned and said his name and screamed. Which was lovely. Who doesn’t enjoy recognition?

When you said his name, it was heavier. It was material, it had mass and as its gravity began its pull he found his mind circling that sound. He was pleasing his darling, not placating. And it made him react in that unusually crass way.

He felt like an apex predator when killing, tearing open animals made for him to hunt. But you made him feel baser. Prey in your gentle bite.

As your orgasm mounted, you began tugging at his hair to pull him off. You didn’t need him to stop, but everything was suddenly too sensitive. It was alarming to feel your body rocking from overstimulation. A strident cry filled the kitchen as your back arched off the table. He didn’t let up, despite how much you thrashed under his mouth. Rolling pleasure, muscles electrified and shaking beyond your control.

You patted his head harshly, “Good, I’m good. Alas—tor! Fuck!”

Ah, he loved when you swore. It punctuated your otherwise preternatural aura with a touch of humanity.

He stood and leaned over your now reclining body. Your pussy still clenching and legs shaking as he admired his work. You admired his shape in his apron, his broad shoulders and sharp eyes. Caught between your legs like a lion in a mouse trap; he acted like he had no way free of you. His grin widened and he made a display out of licking each finger clean. Eyes never leaving yours.

You knew many men to squawk at going down on a woman. To balk at wearing an apron. To grimace at the suggestion of cooking a meal while their lady took a nice bath or enjoyed a coffee. Alastor seemed to not think twice about any of it. How nice it would be. To have a partner beside you, to not be the woman in the often referenced “behind every great man is a great woman.”

“Alastor, I want you.” You pulled him down by the neck and stole a kiss. When he began to stroke himself fully back to life you pressed that hand to his chest. “Not like that. Though I’m not declining the offer.”

His eyes saw something in yours. “Sweetheart, you have me. There is no part of me that isn’t possessed by you. I know we keep things relatively… tightlipped for safety but I’m your fella and you’re my gal.” His nose touched yours. “But if you want more, I’ll become more. I’ll break myself apart and make myself better.”

Your heart sank. Sitting up to command a little authority, a feat given you were sitting panty-less on a kitchen table, “Don’t you dare. I’ll always meet you where you are, got it? Don’t go… groping around in the darkness for me; trying to find what I need. I’ll always come to you. Because you’re more than enough as you are.”

A little cough to clear his tightening throat, “I’ve not had a day of darkness since you arrived.” A kiss to your forehead before a soft thumbpad wiped at the corner of your eye. “Did I make you sad?”

You wanted to say it. But not now, not like this. You didn’t want Alastor to connect love and sex. To think one was necessary for the other.

While you were coming to learn how lovely it was to pair the two together, it was a fact they were wholly independent things. And you couldn’t allow him to think they were a set.

“You’ve made me too happy. It’s absolutely terrifying.”

But Alastor had found your expressions of acceptance always tumbled the circle of Love to overlap with that of Sex. It was only in that mixed space did he find desire in pleasure.

A wicked smirk, “Let me pile on my affections and drown out your fears.” His hips rolled into you again, a surprising eagerness returned to his lap. “Can I continue?”

With a nod and a smile, “But not another word of change, buster.” You leaned back on your hand for support. Alastor was happy to return to your heat, lining up and sinking into you. An embrace like no other, one he found particularly earnest when with you.

Close. Finally. You began where he ended, a natural extension of who he was and who he could be. The things he could have. A relieved sigh he didn’t try to hide before he began moving, a moment when his tension could melt. You were both an unseasonably warm autumn day and the cool comforting shade of an unfamiliar tree. Both the heat and the relief.

He watched your body rock against the table, even fully dressed you managed to look more scandalous than any show he’d seen downtown. He was grateful he didn’t seek this comfort often in others, the way his mind melted made him feel vulnerable. He couldn’t think straight. And then you began to make those lovely little groans, high pitched and needy, and he was sure his soul was errant.

As his thrusts deepened, cock no longer kissing your cervix but ramming into you with good intentions, you dropped back as you lost the battle against his hips.

Alastor’s arms slid up our waist and pulled your arms towards him, “Too far, I can’t see your face.”

Your arms were slung over his shoulders as your back curved for him, “You don’t need to see my face.”

“Tsk, wrong.”

Your new favorite place was right in front of him, wherever his line of sight was you wanted to be in it. Nose to nose, heads tilting to recapture soft lips and softer moans.

Until the softness left, Alastor’s skin slapping against yours as he dragged those lovely sounds from you. He watched your eyes roll closed, mouth open as you moaned with the safety of the seclusion of a country home. A thought bubbled up, inspired by you.

“I want the neighbors to hear you.” That smile half cocked across his upsettingly handsome face. His hand slipped between you both to repeat the motions he learned before. Hard and fast, no choice but to raise your voice.

Your head fell back, clit still sensitive, “You don’t have neighbors!” A new moan hitting the walls.

“I do— just a few miles down the road, dear.” His mouth latched onto your neck but he didn’t suck like he wanted, he couldn’t bite. Your skin was your job, your body not his to mark. Suddenly he remembered, “Do you still have that make up? For your bruises?”

You couldn’t understand why he would bring that up while balls deep in you but you nodded.

“Would it work on your neck?” He nipped lightly.

It clicked, “Absolutely.”

You felt like a teenager again. When his tongue swiped over your soft flesh before he began to suck on the skin there you could feel the heat rising off your chest. You could feel him everywhere, and with the knowledge he wanted to hear you, you tossed your shame out of the kitchen window and relaxed into the pleasure.

As he moved up your neck he left little marks behind. There was no sense left you didn’t occupy. He could smell the soap and sweat of your skin, taste your cunt still on his tongue, your sights and sounds a decadence he couldn’t get used to. And the feeling of you… velvety walls, a feeling finer than silk as he slipped in and out of you. So incredibly hot on his most sensitive areas, pulling him back in with admirable strength.

He felt his orgasm ratcheting up but tried to hold back. He wanted more time to experience your ecstasy, to wallow in your openness. Even pressed skin to skin now wouldn’t satisfy that deep desire for this unique level of intimacy. So he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he had it.

But, he knew he should prepare. “I don’t want to dirty your dress.” A lust heavy voice penetrating the nap of your neck. He’d made a risky release before at your urging, something he often thought about when work got quiet. But he knew he needed to think clearer now.

“Then don’t.” A terrible reply but you wanted all of him, every drop of his hunger for you. “Keep the mess in me.”

“My dear,” he slowed his hips, autopilot keeping them moving at all, “I don’t think now is the time for,” you tightened around him to trip him up, which worked spectacularly. Alastor had take several seconds before continuing, “talks on family planning.”

A pang of nausea and fear, small and sharp in your abdomen. It wasn’t that you weren’t aware of biology, just that Alastor brought out your baser animal instincts, too. And before, when he came buried as deeply as he could reach, it felt like you’d actually completed some ritual. Bears hibernated, birds migrated, Alastor came in you.

You’d never let a man do that before Alastor. “I just want to… accept everything you are willing to give me.”

He bit his bottom lip to redirect some attention away from his now throbbing member, “And when you’re sure on me, I’ll always provide.”

A pout that he kissed, you accepted the terms. An argument could be made you were already very sure, but you were well aware how naive that sounded when you’d known each other for so little time. Had a coworker told you she’d met a guy and within three months was ready for… the consequences, you’d have laughed and asked if she was drunk or just stupid.

Alastor wanted to provide. But he knew you’d be the one with the raw end of the deal, he couldn’t risk coercing a decision in the heat of the moment. If your mind was half was addled as his with pleasure then you were in no state for big decisions.

Life changing decisions.

Decisions that filled empty homes.

Fuck, why wasn’t he a less considerate man?

When his kiss deepened, so did his ministrations. He was fully sheathed and so unwilling to draw back more than a couple inches you wondered if he had changed his mind. It felt like a man not wanting to stray too far from home. One hand on the small of your back, his other other on the back of your neck. When he pulled out he pressed his tongue further, only stopping the kiss when he came onto the little space of table between your thighs. Soft and swollen lips parted as his breaths ran ragged. A smile spread across your face as you watched his eyes open, witnessing a pleasured blow out of his pupils.

When he grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned the table, you chuckled at his grimace. “See? My way is cleaner.”

He didn’t reply at first, taking the cloth and hovering over the sink before tossing it into his trash. “Only in the short term. We can finish up tomorrow with the tools?”

Your legs kicked again, not ready to slide off, “Mm, it’ll be easier in the daylight.”

“Instead,” he zipped his pants but removed the belt and set it on the counter, “Let’s get zozzled* and sway around the sitting room? Crash where we land.” (*drunk)

“I’ll pour if you get the music on.”

He turned to leave but paused, “No, I’ll handle the drinks. You always have too heavy of a hand.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last time…”

“I’m not sure I remembered I was at home and not at a drum* last time…,” He uncorked the label-less whiskey, grabbing two glasses with one hand. “Didn’t wanna insult the pretty waitress.” (*speakeasy)

Fair. You weren’t much for drinking and always underestimated the strength of illegal hooch. Some were weak and some could kill you. But fancy Alastor had connections with the kind of people no one dared to risk harm to, so he always had the most trustworthy goods.

Good music, great whiskey, and even better company. You thanked him for being safe while working, he praised your ability to learn new skills so quickly. After a few drinks he pushed the coffee table against the wall and you drunkenly swayed around the room to something playing smooth and low. As much as you enjoyed your conversations, having your head tucked under his chin as neither of you said a word somehow filled in the little cracks of your heart more so than any talk. For him too. No tension after sex, no stress of how long he’d get to breathe before the next instance of prodding to do it again. He could smile and close his eyes and feel the room swing and sway in total safety.

A safety neither of you knew was being threatened from afar.

When you woke, Alastor was gone. A note on the table letting you know he’d run out to grab some things for breakfast. Telling you to relax and recover.

You put the furniture back, bringing the glasses to the kitchen and his belt to the bedroom.

Coffee and a slow perusal of his home. Intimate details you tried to not stare at when he was there. The rare photo of his mother, a woman you didn’t speak about, a conversation you didn’t need to have, but someone you knew existed fondly still in his life. A silent thank you to her.

No photos of a man to give thanks to you so you turned to the little curios and mementos.

Little seashells and sand dollars, a small gator’s skull. Books, about anatomy and history. Novels about crime and love and mystery. Ticket stubs for films he’d seen. Little bits of his mother scattered in. A woman’s necklace. A chatelaine* with all of the accessories and tools. (*wikipedia page)

When you felt you’d spied enough, you crawled into his side of the bed and inhaled as deeply as you could. His pillow smelled like him. You let yourself sleep off the hangover surrounded by pieces of Alastor.

Pieces you couldn’t contain. Pieces left around town as a dick* hunted for his personal monster. (*a detective, but also, a dick, fuck this dude?)

Beth, or Betty as you called her, the friend you often sang for, was cleaning up from the previous night when Brady walked in. She tried to tell him they were closed, but he took a seat at the counter anyway.

“I’m looking for a singer named Autumn. She been around lately?”

She paused, knowing the name was tied to your work. This man didn’t know you. “Whose asking?”

“The city of New Orleans”, he set his badge on the counter top.

“Is she in some kinda trouble?”

“She the kinda dame to get into trouble?”

Beth laughed, “She doesn’t try to but men, liquor, and jazz tend to make it happen. She’s okay, right?”

He took a deep sigh, trying to blink away the exhaustion and remember he needed to be someone strangers trusted. Being honest hadn’t been working and being rough barely got him a lead. “Well I was hoping you’d know. Found out someone roughed her up a bit ago and just wanting to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t have her legal name, no address, nothing to track her down.”

Shaking her head, she leaned onto the counter, “What? Some egg* forget it’s just a show?” Brady shrugged. “I can’t say. She hasn’t been by in a couple weeks.” (*man)

He asked why. Feeling the deadend approaching.

“She was just doing me a favor. Once she got a guy she didn’t have much time.”

Fighting the urge to slam his fists against the wood and sling his notebook across the bar, Brady took slow breaths. Jaw clenched as he grabbed his pencil, “That is wonderful news. Hopefully a fit guy who can… keep her safe.”

Beth laughed a little, “I don’t know about that. He’s kind of a daisy*, but real kind.” (*a non-masculine man)

“Could I get a name? Or her address? Wanna follow up. See for myself that she’s doing well.”

She tapped the bar with two fingers and winked, “Ah no can do. Flatfoot* or not, I don’t tell men where to find sleeping ladies. But her fella is in radio though. I recognized his voice right away. Popular too, really ritzy air about him.” (*cop, detective)

As he left, he slapped the notebook against his palm over and over. When he stopped to take a second to congratulate himself something caught his eye. Across the street was a park he knew well. Following the block and turning, he could see the white and green awning of the cafe he’d seen you at before.

Had he been there? He hadn’t questioned why you were alone on such a nice day. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d been playing him from the start.

Enough games.

When you took the stage that evening, a Friday show with a promising crowd, you felt like solid gold. Alastor would be there to pick you up in a few hours, you had every need met. And now you had the adoration of strangers to pump up your chest.

Until you passed your come-hither eyes over the crowd and a striking ocean blue pair knocked the wind out of you.

James was standing behind Brady, mouthing an apology. You missed a beat in your routine but forced your smile back. It took a second, to slide back into the actress you were when away from Alastor. Every time it got harder and harder to fall back into that role but you managed. His eyes never left your face, and you thanked God your heaving chest could be seen as fatigue and not the sheer panic that had taken ahold of your body.

When you were on the other side of the curtain you considered rushing out the side door, into the alley and down the street. But you couldn’t. You’d successfully brushed him off for so long but now that he had seen you, had made it clear he was there for you, you couldn’t flee. Innocent people don’t hide from cops.

Feet dragging, you saw some of the dancers standing around the dressing room door. “He’s out of his gourd if he thinks I’m changing with him in there.” One said loud enough to ensure Brady heard. When you entered the room he was sitting at your make up table, legs spread and your shoes in his hands.

“There she is!” standing, he extended the shoes to you, “Don’t stare like a deer in the lights. I’m sure you knew I was coming. Slip these on, we’re going for a ride.” He gave them a shake, “You can call your mac* from the station and let him know you’ll be late.” (*man)

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel l , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl

#human alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x you

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senbbonzakura · 7 months ago

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Hello Dear! I wanted to make a request for main 4 (from South park obvs) where their S/O meets their family's for the first time if that's okey (you can ignore Cartman if you'r not comfortable with writing for him its okey, I get it LMAO) <333

Also I recommend you do the list of things and characters you will and won't do as fast as possible!

Sorry for possible grammer or spelling errors, English is not my first lenguage :))

sure sweetheart!! ill try to do the list as fast as i can, thank you <3 also i get the grammar, english isnt my first language either, everyone starts somewhere and its okay :) also i made the reader female and no cartman, i hope thats okay!

⋆ F!READER MEETING MAIN 3'S FAMILIES FOR THE FIRST TIME :

✩ — STAN !

at first i feel like it was supposed to be just his mom you would meet

stan does NOT want you to meet his dad.

what if you think stan turns out like him? he doesnt want u to leave him bc of that :(

so he picked a day his dad wouldnt be home on purpose

turns out he actually was home so u met both his parents..

sharon loved you! she thought youre so kind and a perfect partner for her son😭

you didnt talk really much with randy bc stan tried to keep you away from him. i guess randy was just glad that stan isnt "funny"

shelly was actually excited to have another teen girl under the roof

she says youre "meh" but enjoyed meeting you

✩ — KYLE !

my boy was nevrous bc i feel like sheila has some high expectations

higher than kyle..

even tho its his partner😭

she just wants her son not to end up in drugs or smth

when she meets you shes actually obsessed with you!

buttttt, she still keeps an eye on you

just mothers instinct, but she still likes you!

i guess gerald just went with whatever sheila said, but he thinks youre nice

they definitely want you to come over more

i almost forgot that ike also exists

ike is that type of kid to disturb you two every second no matter what youre doing

he just wants that attention from teenagers

imagine how cool he feels hanging out with 2 teens?!?!!!?!!

✩ — KENNY !

his parents made some "drunk" talk with you😭

"life's good? yeah?"

no but fr now

kenny tried to get his parents to stay sober for the day you would meet them

but oops they forgot and drank a little

just enough to still luckily remember that they met you

although you didnt talk much with them bc kenny dragged u to his room

and guess what

U MET KAREN

omg dude. karen is so in love with you fr

atp kenny is jealous

its basically the same thing with karen and with ike.

the only different thing is that kyle probably tells ike to go away or sum while kenny actually agrees for karen to stay

he sees how much joy you bring her!!

if karen is happy then kenny is happy too <3

gimme more requests ygssss

#south park x y/n #south park x you #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick

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ellisstabwound · 6 months ago

Text

Someone like you -> kenny liu

pairings; kenny liu x donna!daughter!reader

warnings; mentions of death, weed, swearing.

summary; you always felt out of place in colony house, maybe moving into town will do you some good, luckily for you the deputy has a spare bedroom.

wordcount; 2.09k words

a/n; definitely making this a series because look at my husband

You sat down at colony house, looking out at the horizon, the sun had just risen, meaning the Creatures had left. You had this life for a while, you were here before the talismans, it was rough obviously, someone as young as you seeing the bodies everyday.

You sat on the roof, a joint in your hand, curtesy of Fatima obviously, as you watched the people in town. A very known habit you had.

You didn't know why you liked watching people in town, maybe you were just waiting for Victor to wake up.

You and Victor have always been close. You didn't see a creep like many, you didn't see a pervert. You saw a broken man who only needed love and social interactions.

He did grow up in this life, longer than everyone. You were eating an apple as you watched the deputy walk around town, making sure everyone was fine for the day.

You've never spoken to him, you would be lying if you said you weren't intrested in him, his dopy smile, his eyes, his attitude, his personality.

You wanted to know more.

You looked down as your mother called for you, Donna stood at the bottom, clearly irritated. You sighed before putting out the joint and grabbing a pole and sliding down before landing in front of her.

"What the fuck did I tell you about going up there?" Donna scoffed as you sighed, looking away as you crossed your arms.

"It's dangerous up there." You muttered as she nodded. She sighed before placing her hands onto your shoulder. "I know, I know. You don't want anything to happen to me, day or night."

"Okay listen, you can be a dumbass and sulk up there all day, or go to town with me for me, father Khatri and Boyd's monthly get together." Donna offered as you contemplated. You did always want to go to town, meet the people there and see how different they are to the life you have at colony house.

"Uh sure, don't got anything better to do then measure the distance of trees." You said as your mother raised her eyebrow at you, you nodded as she she just sighed and walked off, muttering under her breath as she walked off.

You followed her, looking at the houses and the people, a few walked towards the dinner as the deputy you've seen walk a route everyday left the dinner, a few boxes in his hand.

"Kenny!" Donna smiled as the man looked up, barley carrying the boxes, you grabbed one that fell from him, smiling at him as you took another one. "I believe you haven't met my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" Kenny asked Donna as she nodded. You smiled at him as he nodded and looked between the two of you. "I don't see a resemblance."

You chuckled along with him as you walks towards the post office, sorry, sheriff's office. You stood in front of Sheriff Boyd. You watched as he walked outside, opening the door and smiling at the both of you.

"Donna, you're here, with company?" Boyd glances at you and you crossed your arms and glanced back at him. "Kenny, why don't you show our guest around."

"I know what the town looks like. I was here when we used to pull patches out of the ground." You sneered and he glanced at you. Donna gave you a pointed look which made you roll your eyes as she entered.

"So, you've been here for a while? Why haven't i seen you before?" Kenny asks you as he started walking. You followed him, walking alongside him as you looked around the town you once called home.

"I like to stay at colony house, mostly in my room or with Victor." You answered as you glanced at a scrap mess of a cage in the middle of town. "What's that?"

"That's the box. Whenever someone causes a death they go in there." Kenny explained as you nodded. You walked towards the box, ignoring kenny's heys and questions as to where you were going.

You looked inside, seeing the 'cage' itself. You sighed as you looked around, no talisman, they were leading people to their deaths.

"We've never used it. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Boyd made it to scare the townsfolk into being careful." He whispered as you sighed in relief. You continued walking with him. It was refreshing, talking to someone who wasn't high or being a complete ass.

Did you chose the wrong choice?

No, you couldn't leave your mother. You wouldn't dream of it. You liked the bond, the connection, the stability.

You walked back to the post office, joking around with Kenny and waiting for your mother who soon exited. "Cmon, we should head back."

You nodded at your mother as she started to walk off, you turned back to kenny who seemed rather disappointed. "I'll see you soon?"

Kenny smiled at the idea to see you again. He licked his lips, nodding before standing up and helping you up from the steps. "I'll see you around."

You smiled before walking off, already missing the town and missing the boys company. "He's a townie, don't forget."

"They're not that bad mom." You muttered as she turned around to face you. "I know we have bad memories, but they're like a puzzle. They connect, isn't that something nice."

"They have a box to murder people." Donna reminded but you sighed. You wanted to tell her what Kenny told you, but you knew she wouldn't believe you, or it would backfire and she'd run if to Boyd, saying how much of a lie like that would break the chain of the community he built.

"Don't tell me you want to be one of them now." Donna sneered as you sighed, you stopped walking, crossing your arms causing her to look at you. "y/n."

"I hate colony house. I have no friends. They're all assholes who want to get drunk and high! Fatima, Elis and Victor are the only tolerable people in there!" You answered. You never wanted to leave your mother, to cause a drift, you'd be lying if you said you wouldn't miss your old life with Victor.

"The moment you leave, there's no coming back. I can't bend the rules, even for you." Donna silently pleaded as you sighed. You knew that. It was why you went with her in the first place, you couldn't handle it anymore.

"They all look at me like I'm crazy." The moment you spilled that from your mouth, how you had lost your mind the first few weeks of living here. "I mean, it's a hazard, why would I stay in a place where one person's mistake could kill us all."

"The windows are nailed shut!" Donna argued as you scoffed.

"Hammers exist!" You scowled. You realised she was starting to get irritated. "Mom, just listen to me."

"Fine you wanna go there. Go." She scoffed. You sighed, shaking your head.

"You don't mean that-." Before you could finish your sentence she walked towards you, pointing her finger at you.

"Go, go run off. You'll come back crying to mommy right after it just like always." You held back the remark you were about to say, you knew she didn't mean it, you knew she was just hurt, hurt by the fact that you considered leaving.

Mothers instinct.

"Go." You sighed before walking towards your room, packing a bag. Donna was already on her way to Boyd. You knew it was against the rules to switch your area, but technically you never chose, your mother just snatched you and they never said anything because you were with your family.

You heard a knock on the door, opening it to find victor, clearly upset. "Is it true?" He whispered as you sighed. "Are you leaving?"

"I'll visit you, I promise." You tried to comfort him, he shook his head, looking at you.

"It's against the rules. Donna won't let you." He said as he clutched his lunchbox. You sighed, turning back to your bag.

"I know, but it won't stop me." You answered. He nodded beforw opening his lunchbox, taking out a drawing of the both of you. "Victor."

"I made it for you, to never forget." He answered as you smiled at the drawing.

"I'll never forget you Victor. C'mere." You held out your arms for him, taking him in for a hug. He always say you as a sister, someone to protect, someone who'd always be by his side.

You watched him walk back to his room, you sighed before closing up your bag, waiting outside at colony house to find Elis and Fatima outside, they walked towards you, clearly confused.

"We heard your leaving." Fatima announced as you nodded. Elis crossed his arms as he leaned against the railing.

"It's gonna be weird without you." Elis sighed as you nodded. You looked at Fatima as she hugged you, Elis joining in as they watched Donna walk up the trail with Boyd. "I believe that's our cue to leave."

"We'll leave the backdoor unlocked in the day." Fatima smiled at you as you chuckled before walking down to meet sheriff Boyd.

You turned to your mom who crossed her arms, clearly still upset. You sighed before hugging her as she hugged back. "I'll bend the rules a little, come visit okay?"

"Always." You whispered as she smiled. You let go as you watched her wipe a tear from her eyes.

"I'm proud of you." She whispered before you turned to the sheriff who escorted you to a house.

"Kenny will give you the rules of the town, you'll be sleeping here until we find you a place to stay." Boyd said as you nodded, you looked at the sun to see it was about to set. "Welcome to the town."

"Thanks Sheriff." You smiled as he smiled back.

"You know my residence, if you need anything, I'm here. Even if you just want lunch with me." Boyd offered as you nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." You nodded. You looked to the side to find Kenny waiting by the window, you waved as he waved back, you entered the house, finding Kenny talking to his mother in another language.

"Uh, hi." You you muttered as Kenny turned to face you, he spoke to his mother before turning back to you, smiling as he grabbed your bags.

"I'll take you to your room for now, I heard Boyds gonna build you a house or something to live in." Kenny nodded as you nodded along, he turned to his mother, speaking to her softly in another language before walking up the stairs.

"So. Uh, you're the deputy." You looked at him as he nodded, placing you bags into a room.

"Yeah, Boyd took me in after my father uh. Tried to open the door I suppose." You nodded as you sat down on the bed, Kenny took the chair, spinning it around to sit down, his hands onto the back of the chair.

"I've seen you. On the roof of the colony house." He started as you raised your eyebrow at him.

"A stalker aye?" You giggles as he chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's hard to miss a girl dancing around on a roof." He reasoned as you nodded. He leaned in, smiling at you. "That's really cool, and you're not that bad at dancing."

"Thanks Kenny." You smiled, you turned around at the sound of a bell, looking out the window to find Boyd ringing the bell.

"Okay, breakfast is in the morning, I'll knock on your door before then. My mom serves it at the dinner." Kenny started as you nodded looking around your room as he stood up and leaned against the doorframe. "The bell indicated curfew you should be on your way home or at your house by then, and you know about the box."

"Mhm." You nodded as he sighed, he smiled at you, before turning around to go to bed. You stood up, sitting on the windowstill removing the tarp as you look out to the town. It looked peaceful, beside the Creatures walking around.

You loved the town, no matter how fucked up it was, it was refreshing.

Did you make a mistake? You looked at your door, seeing kenny pass through helping his mom get to her room as you smiled.

This is where you belong.

#from mgm #from epix #from tv show #from #kenny liu #kenny liu x reader #x reader #fanfic #from x reader

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cosmicjoke · 11 months ago

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Armin's Role in Levi's Choice, and the Threat of Erwin's Corruption and Mental Degradation:

Alright, boys and girls, I'm going into this again, because I want to focus specifically on an aspect of Levi's choice in Shinganshina which, sadly, I'm reminded over and over again by people, is widely misunderstood or flatly ignored, and that's both Armin's pivotal role in Levi choosing as he did, and also, Erwin's own impending mental and moral collapse.

People often accuse Levi of letting his personal feelings for Erwin get in the way of making the "right" choice that day in Shinganshina, and they support this claim by making the further claim that Levi hampered humanity's chances for victory by letting Erwin die, Erwin being the great leader that he was, etc, etc... This view is shared, not unironically, I think, by everybody's favorite AoT character, Floch, who we know is a bastion of human empathy and understanding (insert sarcasm here). Because if we should believe anybody about what was really motivating Levi that day, it should be Floch, (insert further sarcasm). But I say no to these accusations, because they're undeniably refuted by what transpires in the panels of the manga itself.

Now, lets look at these panels, because we're going to analyze and break this down:

Erwin admits to Levi here that seeing what's in Eren's basement, "learning the truth about this world", as he says, is more important to him than humanity's victory. And Levi's response to that is to say "Fine. Erwin, I'll trust your judgment.". Meaning that he's trusting Erwin still to do the right thing, to make the right choice, and should things go south on them, and humanity's victory is compromised by Erwin's judgement-call, then the responsibility for that will be on Erwin and Erwin alone. Levi is both reaffirming his trust in Erwin as a leader, while also acknowledging that Erwin is suddenly, uncharacteristically, threatening to compromise the mission of the Survey Corps for selfish gain. Something which goes against every belief Levi has ever held about Erwin as a leader and a man. Levi's anger and frustration is rooted in that shaking of foundation, in the uncertainty that he now has to confront about Erwin's fitness as a leader.

What's important to remember about Erwin and this moment, is that it isn't the first instance in which he's prioritized his own, personal dream above humanity's victory. He did so as well when he orchestrated the military coup, overthrowing the nobility. Erwin admits this to Zackely, when he confesses that he isn't sure if overthrowing the nobility was really the best move for humanity, and we start to see the first cracks in Erwin's otherwise impenetrable armor.

His insistence, here, that he'll be going on the mission to Shinganshina, is the second instance in which he's placing his own, personal dream above humanity's victory.

Where before Erwin had never once compromised the SC mission for his personal dream, he's now done so twice, in short succession.

Levi, before this, had spoken with Kenny about dreams, and dreams ability to corrupt and compromise us as human beings. And we're seeing that in action here with Erwin. His dream has begun to corrupt him.

But Levi doesn't realize yet how deeply the corruption in Erwin has begun to take root. Hasn't, in fact, yet accepted that corruption in Erwin at all. He's beginning to suspect it, but he still believes in Erwin as a leader. He still trusts his judgment, as he says. He's still deferring to Erwin's judgment over his own instincts.

And Levi won't realize how deep the corruption in Erwin goes, and won't accept it, until the pivotal moment of decision, up on the roof in Shinganshina.

Now let's talk about these panels, because these are vital in understanding what Levi decides next.

The juxtaposition here of Erwin, Armin and Kenny means everything.

Levi remembers asking Erwin what happens next, once he discovers what's in Eren's basement, and Erwin admits that he doesn't know. All he knows is that he wants desperately to see what's in that basement, and after that, he has no idea. There's no grand plan, no further motivation, no vision for the future of humanity.

Then Levi recalls Kenny's words about dreams, "they couldn't keep going unless they were drunk on something", and this memory is followed by Levi's looking over at Armin's charred body, with Kenny's words ringing in his head "They were all slaves to something. Even him.". We then see Erwin's hand lift up, symbolically smacking the serum away from his arm, and he begins to ramble incoherently, lost in a memory of asking his father how he knows humanity doesn't exist beyond the walls.

It's in THIS moment that Levi realizes that Erwin hasn't been released from the grip of his dream. In his delirious, dying state, it's exposed as the thing that still drives Erwin forward, the thing that still matters to him most. His dream still has him shackled. His dream is still corrupting him.

Again, we've already seen this corruption begin to take root and manifest in Erwin making decisions which directly compromise and endanger humanity's victory, first in orchestrating the military coup, and then in insisting on being in Shinganshina himself.

Levi recalling Kenny's specific words "They were all slaves to something. Even him." is him realizing that Erwin is a slave to his dream. That he can't and won't be able to let it go. He recalls having to order Erwin to do so, to "give up on your dreams and die for us", and then Erwin thanking him for that. He realizes Erwin thanked him because Erwin knew he wouldn't have been able to make that right choice on his own. He realizes that if he hadn't made the choice for Erwin, Erwin wouldn't have been able to give up on his dream. Instead, he would have given in to the corrupting force of his dream, and chosen it over humanity. Just like he did the night before, when he refused to back down from his insistence that he accompany the mission. When he refused Levi's request for him to stay behind.

Levi realizes that Erwin has already been corrupted by his dream. And he realizes that once that dream is realized, Erwin will no longer have anything left to motivate him forward, nothing to be drunk on to keep him from the further degradation and corruption of his mind. He'll no longer be the great leader and visionary he'd once been. He'll be a husk of himself, ruined by the selfishness of his dream, and the guilt he carried as a consequence. Eaten alive by his own demons.

We see this in direct contrast to Armin's burned body, and Levi's memory of his hopeful and innocent eyes from the night before, talking about his own dream of seeing the ocean.

This contrast is majorly important in understanding why Levi ultimately chooses to give the serum to Armin and not Erwin.

Because unlike Erwin, Armin WAS able to give up on his dream and die for humanity. He didn't need anyone to make that choice for him. He made that choice by himself. He willingly sacrificed his life for humanity, and willingly accepted that he would never get to see the ocean, content with the hope that Eren would get to see it in his stead.

Levi realizes, in that moment, that unlike Erwin, Armin hasn't been corrupted by his dream. It wasn't the only thing driving him forward. He wasn't "drunk" on it. He could give up on it for the sake of everyone else. He could sacrifice it.

And that plays a major role in why Levi chose as he did.

It wasn't a case of him prioritizing Erwin over humanity. It was a case of understanding that Erwin's sacrifice, in the end, wasn't self-motivated, and that his dream still controlled him, and would continue to control him, and that truth wouldn't change when he finally realized his dream, but simply leave him bereft, with nothing to shield him from the crushing guilt which had begun to seep in with the realization of his own selfishness, his increasing willingness to prioritize his dream over humanity.

It was a case of Levi realizing that Armin's ability to give up on his dream was also a marker of that's dreams purity, and Armin's own innocence and lack of corruption as a person.

It was a case of Levi realizing that where it was already too late for Erwin to escape that fate Kenny had talked about, it wasn't so for Armin. He reiterates this later on, when he talks about choosing Armin because he "had the same look in his eyes as all of you", meaning his comrades at the beginning of all of it, before they'd been beaten down and ruined by the ugliness of war and dreams.

It was as much that lack of corruption in Armin that made Levi's choice for him, as it was the corruption which had taken root in and begun to eat away at Erwin.

In order for all of their sacrifices to have been worth it, as Levi later says, it would have to have been for an absurdly idealistic world. What that means is, it would have to be for a dream that was pure and without corruption. That's the only thing that would make all of their sacrifices worth it in the end.

And Armin's dream was pure and without corruption.

The very thing they were fighting for was the purity that Levi saw in Armin. Very literally and figuratively, Armin encapsulated the ideal the members of the Survey Corps had given up their lives for. That absurdly idealistic world. A world of freedom and free will and choice.

To choose Erwin would have been a betrayal of that ideal, because Erwin was a slave to his dream. He'd become the very thing the Survey Corps was fighting against. Enslavement.

Armin was a slave to nothing. To choose him was to prove the worth of every fallen soldiers sacrifice. To choose him was to realize the dream they'd all died for.

#Levi Ackerman #Erwin Smith #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #meta #commentary #analysis

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qtkat · 2 years ago

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being childhood friends with the main four would include..

gender: female (she/her)

warnings: none, other than it’s south park

request: no lol

a/n: this is my first time posting my fanfiction, so please be kind with any criticism! x <3

- being one of the only people eric can genuinely get along with

- because let’s be real, if he were to let a girl in his main friend group he’d definitely have to actually like you

- and if even eric likes you, the others definitely love you

- you’re really close with all of them, picking up kenny and karen with your shitty car every morning, slacking off and talking about whatever with stan in first period, rating the day’s school lunch with eric (you both take this very seriously), and letting kyle coach you through your biology homework after school

- you’re really the glue to their broship, because without you there kyle would’ve definitely dropped eric at some point and they would’ve split up the whole group

- but don’t worry, they don’t argue as much as they used to in elementary and middle school

- ironically you all have one period together, ap history with mr. garrison

- it’s definitely your favorite time of the day because you get to see all your favorite people at once

- it’s also definitely not mr. garrison’s favorite time of day, he’s hated you little gremlins since fourth grade (and you can’t really blame him)

- outside of school you try to see them as much as possible

- you definitely see kenny the most, he loves just hanging out at your house so he doesn’t have to be at his own

- he even takes karen with him sometimes, and you love babysitting her together and going out to hang around south park

- if you smoke you guys get blazed together all the time (it’s tegridy weed he steals from stan’s house when he’s there)

- whenever you’re just chilling with your other friends (like bebe or wendy) he comes up to you throughout the day to ask if you want to have a smoke break with him

- if you don’t smoke he definitely tries to blow the smoke away from your face as much as he can

- you’re his trip sitter

- he’s also visited you as mysterion, kind of like how they do in miraculous (if you catch my drift)

- you’ve definitely bragged about being friends with mysterion before, much to eric’s dismay

- speaking of eric’s dismay, he’s the most jealous friend you’ll ever have

- “who took that picture of you” “why aren’t you free this weekend?” “why won’t you go to casa bonita with me” “why do you hang out with that loser anyways” ALL. DAY. LONG.

- he loves hanging out with you alone the most so no one steals your attention away from him

- he likes people knowing you guys are friends since he thinks you’re cool (and honestly he just wants people to think he’s cool too, he cares)

- you don’t call him fatass and he really appreciates it, he doesn’t say it though

- you need to pick up a lot of the love you get from eric like context clues since he doesn’t ever really say it out loud

- also liane LOVES YOU

- she sees you as a good influence on her son

- she’s also the type to try and get you to eat over every time you come over (which i also see sheila doing)

- speaking of sheila she’d definitely invite you to celebrate hanukkah with the broflovskis, it became a yearly thing

- kyle and you are study buddies since he doesn’t want you to fail and stay a class behind

- he gets angry when he gets sad, and you can deal with that really well, you calm him down really easily

- you guys have deep conversations whenever you’re alone together

- you hang together on the roof of your house and watch the sunset while talking about the meaning of life or some shit LMAO

- if you also have textured hair you guys would have joint wash days and it’s so cute

- and 80% of the time you’re with kyle stan is there too

- not that you mind

- if you play and instrument you have definitely written music together with stan

- and even if you don’t you love hearing him play, you’re his number one fan

- jam sessions in his barn >>>

- i feel like i’m one of the only people who isn’t a football stan truther, like he’s literally a little nerd who plays guitar

- he plays warhammer with you if you’re into board games, and you guys get really into it together

- that first period chat i mentioned earlier? yeah definitely filled with your character lore and shit

- stan loves hanging out at your house to get away from his dad, honestly yours and eric’s houses are just the general hang out spots for the gang

- whenever you guys hang out with the five of you it’s mostly video games and chilling with food

- subsections of the group are definitely you/stan/kyle and you/kenny/eric (even though eric doesn’t like sharing you he gets really bad FOMO anytime he’s not there)

- whenever you hang with kenny and eric it’s filled with immature jokes, and probably weed too

- idk i just see kenny getting high 24/7 and i feel like eric would try smoking at least once

- kyle and stan won’t try weed, since stan hates it and kyle promised not to try weed to stan when randy bought tegridy farms

- and because butters is basically a bonus member of the group you’d definitely also be friends with him

- you, kenny and butters make the best trio ever, you guys have so much fun

- butters deserves someone sweet in his life and you two are definitely that to him

- whenever he’s working you and kenny just hang around the whole day in a booth, sometimes kyle comes over too to help you study a bit

- willy chilly’s is a hang out spot too, it seems so nice in the summer

- in conclusion you and the boys have a great friendship, and you have ever since you were young! it’s so cute honestly

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lucysarah-c · 2 months ago

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Second question!

(sorry for the delay, work got in the way >___> Once again, there is absolutely no rush to reply to these <3 Especially because I know I will make a mess of this ask in particular lol) I think you mentioned in one of your previous posts that you think Levi would very much be of the opinion "my past is my own, and just because we are together does not mean you are entitled to know it". Or something on those lines.

Now, imagine Levi and Y/N have been together for a while and, despite not pressing him, she has made clear that she is interested in where he comes from, in understanding "all of him". Do you thin Levi would still be tight-lipped about his past? Or do you see him randomly dropping things whenever he feels comfortable, like he told Nifa about Kenny?

And finally... do you think he would ever talk voluntarily about Furlan and Isabel? How would that conversation go? And, how do you see Levi replying to Y/N saying somethig like "I think they would be proud to see how far you got"?

That's it, I promise my questions should be done for a while uahahaha I know I did it in my previous ask, but thank you very much for taking the time to read these and for the patience you have when replying to all of us and for putting up with the fandom in general! I wish you a lovery day Lucy and I send you a heartfelt hug <3

Hi, Feris! It's always a pleasure to see you in my inbox, sweetie <3

I love it when I have clear answers for asks, haha. I think Levi would first start by casually dropping little details about his life. Like, maybe one day they’re both lying in bed, and she’s playing with his hair when she notices a scar on his head. She could ask about it, and Levi would just go, “Oh, that? It’s from when Farlan and I stole our first 3DMG. It was so broken that even after I tried to fix it, it went berserk. I hit the corner of a roof and left blood everywhere, haha. But Farlan couldn’t stop laughing long enough to help me—the idiot.”

I imagine Levi doing this a lot—sharing the most heartbreaking stories like they’re funny memories. And she’d be there like, “…sweetie, that’s actually traumatizing and sad.” I feel like, as you mentioned, he’d drop these things randomly when he felt comfortable enough.

This next part is based on personal experience since one of my parents is really secretive about their life. I don’t think Levi would avoid talking about Farlan or Isabel, even on a daily basis. If he’s comfortable with her, I feel like he’d bring them up in conversation more often than we might expect. But I don’t see him sitting down to explain everything in detail, you know? Like, Levi wouldn’t act like they never existed or try to hide them, and the same goes for his mother or Kenny. He might mention them casually in conversations, but I don’t think he’d willingly go through the vulnerability of talking in-depth about the experience of losing them. If that makes sense?

Levi’s past would be like a puzzle she’d slowly piece together. He’s the type of partner who would share the most character-defining story on a lazy Sunday while making pancakes, all because something in the moment reminded him of it, as if it were nothing.

As for the comment you suggested Y/N make, I think he’d definitely be touched by it. He’d probably go quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact as he tries to process the feeling. Then, in a quiet voice, he’d murmur, “Thank you. But I’d still prefer it if they were here… those idiots.” Softly, almost under his breath. If they were close, maybe he’d squeeze her hand or rest his forehead against hers for a moment while he gathered himself, not wanting to show too much vulnerability.

Thank you so much for all your sweet comments, T-T! Truly, I appreciate them. Sending you a big, tight hug back!

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southparktexts · 7 months ago

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Hi, this is my first time requesting so I’m kinda nervous ngl, but, since I found a spider in my hair and sat on my kitchen crying for ten minutes, I was wondering if you could do main four w/ reader with arachnophobia? No pressure or rush though, just wondering (:

oh my god anon :(( you poor soul, i hope you’re okay now though sweetheart.

Main 4 with a arachnophobic reader

cartman ;

- starting off with him because he is the WORSTT out of all them.

- the main 4 and you were over at his house and you saw a spider on the roof and you were so scared it wasn’t funny.

- stan, kyle were trying to kill it and cartman was just laughing at you.

- after the spider was dead, he would pick the dead spider up and put it in front of your face as you were shaking.

- kyle protected you though.

- after that he sent you multiple spider jumpscare tiktok / reels

- he is so fucked up when he finds out about this.

- one time filled your locker with alive spiders causing you to have a panic attack.

- you’re panicking was so bad that you passed out, having to go to the ER.

- it was from there he kinda realised how you could’ve died and how scared you were.

- he toned it down a little.

- he never apologised but will send you funny spider reels to help you get over your fear.

kenny ;

- okay its no surprise that kenny has poor hygiene.

- i mean he’s poor

- one time you were over at his house, ignoring all the rats when you saw multiple spiders climbing on different walls.

- you, obviously scared, you panicked coming into kenny’s embrace.

- he looked down at you and realised from the night before at cartmans house.

- you had a fear of spiders.

- it was obvious that you had saw the spiders in his room.

- he sighed, rubbing your hair as you shook in fear.

- he grabbed a nearby book, hitting all the spiders he could see and threw the book outside the window.

- holding you with one hand as the other killed the spiders.

- after that day, he definitely came ‘round yours forever.

- it was clear that if you were to come over to his, he would need some bug spray for you.

stan ;

- okay, i know damn well that he already knew this prior.

- like when you first came over on the farm, randy showed you the farm of marijuana and you didn’t touch any in case for spiders.

- from there stan silently kills every spider in his house in case you ever come over.

- he knows from the locker incident that spiders are dangerous. very dangerous. especially you.

- just for you, when you come over to his. he bought you your own bug spray in case you see any spiders in yours / his home.

- he doesn’t really care about your fears

- i mean everyone has fears..

- also will ‘protect’ you from spiders.

- he sprays bug spray on the spider until your satisfied.

- one time he used a whole bottle of bug spray to calm you down and show you it was ‘really dead’

- if you get scared from a spider. he wipes your tears and hold you close.

kyle ;

- i can see kyle already being a clean freak

- especially from that microbiome episode

- he already has bug spray in his room and everywhere in his house.

- although after the locker incident he doubled up on bug spray.

- definitely gives you a bunch of bug spray for you to take home so you don’t panic and pass out again.

- he is your protector.

- he hates spiders as well in my opinion but not as much as you.

- he’ll still kill them or put it outside.

- if you ever start crying again from a spider

- he will hold you close and tight while tilting your head towards the spider as he’s killing it with bug spray.

- if you’re still panicking he’ll sit down , place you on his lap and rock back and forth as he wipes your eyes.

- kisses your forehead platonically, whispering praise

- reassuring you that its dead and making sure your okay before he goes and throws it out.

aaa im so sorry this is so shit im so tireddd 😭 im overworking my lil brain on these xD

reqs are open !!

#kyle broflovski x reader #south park x reader #southpark #southparkheadcannons #southparkimagines #stan marsh x y/n #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader

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kenny-the-ken · 2 years ago

Note

perv mysterion x perv fem reader? i’m in need for some juicy stuff like this with kenny

Superhuman Lovers

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! NSFW content and strong language!! I'm so sorry for lack of content last night guys, I promise I'll try and get some more stuff out today 🥰

The night air was cold, and you could feel the goosebumps on your skin, a shiver down your spine. Either something bad was going to happen, or you seriously needed to put more clothes on.

That was when you heard a light thud from behind you, turning to see what had made such a noise, especially on top of a roof in the early hours of the morning.

That's when you saw him, Mysterion. You had been involved with Professor Chaos and were the only female in his team, but you had an upper hand, no guy would want to hurt a woman, so you found yourself rarely injured in battle.

Before you could open your mouth to talk, you felt a hand wrapping around your throat, pushing you backwards to the ground, a weight now sat on top of you.

"We need to stop meeting like this, baby." Mysterion spoke, a smirk planted firmly on his face. You knew his identity, the only person who ever chatted you up like that was Kenny, and although you were on opposing teams, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

Kenny was good looking, and he knew it. And deep down, he had been suppressing feelings for you for what had felt like forever, but you were sworn enemies, and what kind of hero would he be if he slept with the enemy!

"You found me, Mysterion. What's wrong, your underpants getting too tight around me?" You flirted, you and Kenny were friends, and extremely similar in a lot of ways, including having a dirty mind. You could both work each other up to no end, but had never been alone long enough to test the waters fully.

"And so what if they were? I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Mysterion spoke, your faces mere inches from each other, you flashed him a grin, before speaking again.

"I wouldn't mind it. Besides, it looks like you're the one getting flustered under that mask." You retorted, making Mysterion scoff to himself.

"Me, get flustered by Chaos scum like you, I think you're just dreaming again, pretty." Kenny spoke, his teeth catching his lower lip.

"And who said I was interested in someone from Freedom Pals, as if I'd betray Professor Chaos like that." You replied and Kenny's eyes were dark, cunning. You knew he was up to something.

"One night with me, baby and you'd be begging us to let your ass join." Kenny spoke, having you still pinned to the ground, his eyes scanning you up and down, lifting his knee to between your legs, pressing against you, a smirk on his face, as he let your arms go, bringing his face closer, so he whispered into your ear.

"By the time I'm done with you this whole part of town will know who you're loyal to, I'll make you scream my name." Kenny whispered into your ear, and you could feel your panties begin to dampen, your cheeks flush beneath your costume, and your breath hitched as Kenny attached his mouth to your neck, biting down and sucking your sweet spot, a light gasp leaving your parted lips.

"And what make you think I want you, Mysterion?" You spoke, the skirt of your costume high up your thighs, thanks to Kenny's leg, and your top pulled down a bit more than usual, showing off some cleavage, as if you knew he was coming for you tonight.

Kenny's knee pressed harder against you, a smirk on his face and a low, breathy chuckle emanating from him, his lips still against your neck and working their way down your chest, closer and closer to your breasts.

"I think your reactions are telling me otherwise, or are you just a slut like this for anyone, hm?" Kenny pressed further.

"And how eager you are tells me you're just as worked up as I am, Mysterion. Don't try and be coy." And just as those words had left your mouth, Kenny replied.

"We never speak of this to anyone." Kenny warned, before pressing his lips to yours, and you kissed him back. This was wrong, you two were supposed to be rivals, sworn enemies, yet here you both were, melting against each others touches, like a modern day Romeo and Juliet.

Kenny kept you pinned beneath him, enjoying his control over you, he couldn't roam his hands quick enough, he wanted to feel every little bit of your body, ravish you like he'd wanted to for a long time, and finally he was getting his way, and he would make sure this was a night neither of you could ever forget.

The kiss was passionate, both of your tongues fighting for dominance, and you finally gave in to the man above you, allowing yourself to submit to him.

"M-Mysterion." You breathed as the kiss began broken, both of you gasping for air, and Kenny knew you were under his spell, pressing kisses down your chest, as he slowly began to unclasp your corset, his lips between your breasts already, before his gaze met your own, his piercing blue eyes giving you butterflies in your stomach.

"I've wanted to touch you this way for a long time, y/n. Wearing such a seductive outfit, it's like you did this on purpose, do you know how many times I've touched myself thinking of you?" Kenny spoke, his mouth grazing over your erect nipple, a gasp escaping your swollen lips, and Kenny felt his head spin. He'd wanted this for so long, and by god was he going to enjoy this.

"I've wanted this for a long time too, Kenny. I always knew you had a thing for me." You spoke, a smirk on your face. Kenny had made short work of your corset, and he started taking his own costume off, his blonde, messy hair springing free from the constricting costume he wore.

He was ethereal, the dull orange street lamps creating enough light for you both to see each other clearly, and Kenny's eyes never left you for a second, apart from when he pulled his top over his head, leaving him full undressed apart from his trousers.

That was when you heard it, the shouting of your team mates and Kenny's. A battle had begun, and you both knew you should go and fight for your respective teams, and help your friends, but the enemies embrace clouded your mind, and all you could think of was Mysterion, hovering above you, completely shirtless and sucking hickeys on your breasts.

"Ken, they're fighting." You whispered, and Kenny hummed to himself, pulling away from your breast and leaving a dark purple bruise where his mouth once was.

"Let them fight, I'm busy making the enemy submit to me." Kenny replied, pulling your skirt from your body in one quick motion, leaving you in nothing but your panties, your face flushed.

Mysterion smirked, moving closer to you, taking his own trousers off as he moved closer to you, and you were motionless as you lay where you had been on the roof of the building below you both.

Kenny was such a tease, he was pressing wet kisses up your inner thigh, biting your soft skin and leaving bruises where he saw fit, but you were growing impatient, you wanted him, and you wanted him now!

"Typical Freedom Pal, all talk and no action." You spoke, a smirk on your face, before feeling Kenny's hands grip the waist band of your panties, he didn't just pull them down, in fact he tore them into two pieces and threw them over his shoulder, a smirk on his face.

"That enough action for you, baby?" He questioned, not letting you speak before he licked a long stripe along your pussy, widening your lips with his hands to circle your clit perfectly with his skilful tongue. And you couldn't believe the pleasure already, how wet you really were, and now long you'd been waiting for this to happen.

"K-Kenny." You let out, feeling him smirk against your cunt, he skilfully inserted two fingers into your tight hole, and god you felt electric, your back arched against the cold roof tiles, a long moan leaving your parted lips.

"Feels good to be fucked by the enemy, huh?" Kenny spoke, curling his fingers as he thrust them in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

"F-Fuck... need more." You moaned out, eyes screwed shut, legs spread wide and Kenny's fingers buried inside you, teasing you to no end.

"Need more what, baby girl? Use your words." Mysterion spoke, a smirk still planted on his face, his lips coming to meet yours, both of you getting lost within each other, and as Kenny trailed his lips down to your neck, pressing rough kisses, you spoke.

"I-I need you inside me, Kenny. Please?" You begged, your hands tangled in his messy blonde hair, tugging gently on the ends and earning a grunt from Kenny.

It was your turn to tease, pulling his cock free from his boxers, and pumping his erecting shaft a few times, a smirk on your face as you did.

"Oh baby, I'll be inside you soon, but first..." He trailed off, eyes sultry as he stood above you, and you knew what he was alluding to.

"Suck." He ordered, and who were you to argue in such a vulnerable state? His boxers were off completely now, and you balanced on your knees, taking his cock back into your hands, licking a bead of pre cum off his sensitive tip before taking him fully into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks to create suction, and bobbing your head at a steady pace. You gazed up at Kenny, who had one of his hands tangled in your hair, your eyes were dripping with innocence as your picked up your pace slightly, causing low groans and moans escaping his lips.

Kenny liked the fact that you wore your hair up in a pony tail, and he gripped it tightly, tugging your head backwards, his cock slipping out of your mouth, gazing up at him, saliva running down your chin, your eyes watering.

"Look at that, how would Chaos feel, knowing you're sucking the cock off one of his biggest rivals, hmm? But you don't care, you're desperate for me, aren't you?" Kenny spoke, his tone low and his voice husky, and god you needed him more than ever before.

"Get on all fours, I'm gonna fuck you like a slut." Kenny ordered, and you did as you were told, fully submitting to your enemy.

Kenny hummed to himself, eyeing up your ass that was in the air, begging for him to slap it, so he did, several times, earning nothing but strangled moans from you.

And before you had any time to react he slid his cock into your wet cunt, throwing your head back and moaning as he started a fast pace from the start.

"Fuck, M-Mysterion!" You moaned out, which Kenny seemed to like just as much as hearing his own name, slapping your ass again, before gripping your hips with both hands, slamming himself into you deeper.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight for me." Kenny grunted, his chest resting on your back, as he gripped your hair, pulling your face up to his, and you turned to look at him as best as you could.

"I'm gonna cum deep inside you, and then you're mine. You understand?" He whispered, his pace never faltering once, and god you were in heaven. Kenny was big, but he also knew what to do with his dick, and not a lot of guys did.

"Fuck, Ken, I'm getting close already." You moaned out for him, and he delivered another sharp slap to your ass cheek, making you gasp, more moans spilling from your lips.

"Yeah? Gonna cum round my cock?" Kenny groaned, his pace quickening as he neared his own release.

"Cum for me, slut. Let this whole town know who fucked you this good." He spoke, and you couldn't hold it back any longer, you came round his cock, your cunt pulsating round Kenny's length as he kept up his brutal pace.

"Kenny! Fuck, oh my god! Yes yes yes!" You moaned loudly, as Kenny's thrusts started to become sloppy, his eyes shut as he slammed himself deeply into you.

"Fuck, y/n, you're mine, you're fucking mine, shit!" Kenny moaned out as his cock shot ropes of cum deep inside you, both of your moans filling the night sky, and you could no longer hear any fighting from your teammates, not that either of you cared.

Kenny was still inside you, hunched over your back, both your bodies sweaty in the freezing cold, and he slowly got off you, pulling out his cock and smirking to himself as he watched his cum spill out of your used hole.

It took you a while to get your clothes back on, blushing when you realised you had no panties, because Kenny had torn them to shreds.

You turned to look at him, and he was dressed in his costume once more, holding out his arms to embrace you, and you gladly accepted, hugging him back, your head pressed to his chest.

"I've really liked you for a long time, but we're gonna have to keep this quiet, if that's okay with you?" Kenny asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, a complete attitude change to what you were used to.

"I'd love that, Ken. I've always liked you." You replied, both of you blushing, before Kenny spoke once more.

"Come on, I'll take you home. Maybe we can go for round 2 at your place?" He flirted, and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

"You should be so lucky, question mark boy." You replied as Kenny lifted you on to his back, a smirk on his face.

"Weren't calling me that five minutes ago."

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #eric cartman #kyle brovlofski #stan marsh #kyle south park #stan south park #south park #south park x reader #south park smut #south park fanfiction #mysterion x reader #mysterion #fanfic #kenny sp #sp kenny

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dreamings-free · 10 months ago

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‘A dirty nightclub in an arena’ – behind Louis Tomlinson’s Faith In The Future World Tour

Louis Tomlinson and his tight-knit touring crew traverse the world in close to 80 shows, fulfilling a ‘dirty nightclub in an arena’ brief with a dynamic live campaign.

Production Profiles 5 January 2024

Following the success of his record-breaking Live From London livestream, which reportedly raised over £1m for touring and live events personnel and charitable organisations, Louis Tomlinson and his tight-knit crew have toured the world twice over. This time, visiting sold-out arenas in Europe and the UK with a cleverly networked live production with abstract video and lighting and a ‘no frills’ approach to sound, which guaranteed that every ticket holder experienced the same show, regardless of where they stood, sat, or screamed (more on that later). With close to 80 shows under their belt, TPi visited London’s O2 arena ahead of the production’s penultimate date of 2023.

Words: Jacob Waite Photos: Justin De Souza and Oli Crump

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“A team effort is required to get this show off the ground,” explained Technical Manager, Sam ‘Kenny’ Kenyon, who has been a fixture of Louis Tomlinson’s live output since joining as Lighting Crew Chief in 2019. “This has been a complete redesign, and the production has expanded and gotten more complex, which requires different solutions to make it happen.”

Kenny and the team oversaw the deployment of an A and B rig. “We’ve been fortunate for the European stint that the venues we’ve toured have, mostly, been arenas. The main difference between the A and B rig is the addition of IMAG and further lighting header trusses. Aside from that, the A rig fits everywhere. If anything, we’ve run into weight issues, which we can overcome swiftly by removing overhead trusses.”

For the first few shows, Riggers, Ian Bracewell, and Alex Walker incorporated load cells on trusses to get an accurate rate and account of the weight of the load of each truss. In the UK, The Brighton Centre had a particularly low-rate roof with weight limitations. Production Manager, Craig Sherwood and Tour Manager, Tom Allen’s vendors of choice included: Altour (travel), Beat the Street, BPM SFX, CSE Crosscom, Colour Sound Experiment (lighting, rigging, and video), Hangman UK, Boxcat Studio and Two Suns Creative (video content), LED Creative, Ox Event House (custom light housings), Sarah’s Kitchen, Seven 7 Management (artist management), Solotech (audio), Stardes Trucking, and TANCK (production design and video content).

There was no video director, as the show’s visuals were programmed and interspersed with live footage and triggered by a lighting console at FOH, thanks in part to an intricate network setup. “There’s a lot going on in racks that people never see, but it has been stable thanks to the quality of kit supplied by our vendors, who have invested heavily, and the team taking the time to programme the show,” Kenny noted.

Key to the success of the operation was the incorporation of Central Control software, which takes a signal from a lighting console, be it ACN or Art-Net, and translates it to talk to various products – in this case, video. “There is a giant brain that nobody knows exists other than those that have programmed it,” he added.

Additional crew members joined the tour in Europe to aid the video deployment and lead to far more efficient load-in an -outs. “We are close to 80 shows in and on days where we have access to multiple trucks, it comes out very quickly, which for a show of this scale is impressive and credit goes to the team,” enthused Kenny. “The biggest hurdle is when you’ve only got a two-truck dock.”

Prior to the tour, the team had five days of production rehearsals spent in Connecticut’s Mohegan Sun. “When we came to Europe a week later, we had a week of re-prepping with a day of rehearsals at Hamburg’s Barclays Arena, the day before a show,” he described. “It’s been a fun and long run,” added Stage Manager, Torin Arnold. “We’ve visited a good range of venues and countries – especially the Eastern European legs, visiting places you wouldn’t ordinarily tour and experiencing how they operate. This show is designed so it can be accomplished in any part of the world.” Carpenter, Harry Reeves was also on hand to support the build.

The routing, however, was sometimes challenging with some late arrivals and difficult border crossings. “There were a few times in Eastern Europe where we were doing a ferry back-to-back to arrive at 11am, sitting at a difficult border crossing. We usually start with a 7am mark out, so knocking hours off your load-in is tough but everyone pulled together to overcome it,” Arnold explained, noting that touring without staging, and instead, using venue stages (particularly rolling stages), was a blessing during those late arrivals. “As with any tour, as dates progress you build a rhythm while maintaining the safety of the build,” he noted.

Arnold also highlighted the benefit of Lead Truck Driver, Neil Thornton and Truck Drivers, Matt Marlow, Ben Woods, Sarah Goldsmith, Bob Miles, Alam Minshall, Franco DeRosa, and Ollie Thornton who “speed up the process” and maintained a level of consistency.

The transitions between support acts before Louis hit the stage was equally seamless, with ample downstage space for the singer-songwriter to traverse during his performance. “Having a clean frontline means we have space to get the bands on and off,” he added. “Our vendors have also provided everything from an audio package standpoint for support acts, which also speeds up the load-in and -out.”

Highlighting a ‘bucket list’ show at Hollywood Bowl, working closely with US union officials as a “fun” and “interesting” experience, Arnold reflected on the entire tour with crewmembers he now considers close friends. “This is a close team and I’ve made some great memories and stories. It’s been a fun year!”

A DIRTY NIGHTCLUB IN AN ARENA Production Designer, Programmer and Director, Tom Taylor, and Francis Clegg of TANCK have worked with Louis Tomlinson ever since he made the leap to solo artist. “The production design has evolved into an angular, grungy, asymmetrical setup, borne out of the ‘dirty nightclub in an arena setting’ creative brief I was given,” Taylor said, citing the creative influence of Matt Vines and Seven 7 Management. “Louis is a phenomenal performer, and the crowd is captivated the entire time. We started knocking ideas around, speaking to Louis about his inspirations and influences, which we then developed into a creative deck, which I sketched in Blender, and imported into WYSIWYG for visuals, to create stills and pre-visualise.”

Taylor spent 10 days programming the visuals at Colour Sound Experiment, a firm he shares a “longstanding” relationship with. “They are always a call away regardless of the day or time. Their team is easy to get along with and I like their whole ‘production sphere’ – sometimes it’s nice to split lighting and video, but for a show like this, aligning those departments with one line of communication is ideal,” he said, underlining the support of Colour Sound Experiment Account Handler, Haydn Cruickshank.

With production rehearsals under their belt and recordings from Louis Tomlinson World Tour (2020–22), where TANCK piloted Central Control software, the creatives understood how the singer and his band moved on stage, developing a rhythm and consistency of when to implement visual cues and which camera angle fit best. This allowed the team to pre-programme the visual content to timecode.

Video content was made by a combination of TANCK, Two Suns Creative, and Boxcat Studio, with the latter creating 3D models and rendered content, all of which was broadcast across a unique set of video surfaces. “Having the abstract video columns on stage makes it much more interesting than your standard slab of LED at the back of the stage,” Taylor noted.

On stage boxes created by Ox Event House housed GLP JDC Line 1000 strobes with reflective panelling and fabric that were printed to look like heavy concrete slabs, ladened with custom LED Creative solutions. These boxes then moved up and down using Wahlberg Motion Design winches to provide a “low-level, clubby feel” to the set.

“The winches can only carry 50kg and the lights alone are 35kg, so we had to be careful not to overload them, but the result was cool. We also have one single lightbulb on a winch which comes up and down above Louis to create a classic lighting moment,” Taylor said, further highlighting Ayrton Huracán’s prismatic colour wheel as a ‘fan favourite’.

The lighting design saw a wall of GLP impression X4 Bar 20s at the rear of the stage in 12 columns. Further lighting trusses over the stage carried the Wahlberg winches for several automated looks. The DMX winches were utilised for three or four songs, either statically or moving up and down, while JDC Line 1000s provided colour and strobe effects, to achieve varied looks, with a relatively minimal overhead lighting package.

Taylor elaborated: “There are some shutters for one specific track which go directly in-front of some of the GLP X4 Bars to get the aura of the lights, instead of the lenses, which I really like the look of. Lighting and video complement each other during this show – there’s also a section with flickering fluorescent tubes on the video content with the X4 Bar 20s behind the LED screens flickering in a similar way.

Taylor was delighted with the performance of the crew. “Overall, it has been a great run, executed flawlessly,” he commented, citing the support of Lighting Crew Chief, James Box; Dimmer Technician, Rick Carr, and Lighting Technicians, Amy Barnett, and Kieran Hancox.

The wider lighting rig comprised Ayrton Eurus, CHAUVET Professional Strike Array 4, Claypaky Mini-B eLumen8 Endura 1Q120, and Robe BMFL fixtures with robo cameras, all fixed on various HOF MLT3, Litec QH40 and Thomas James Thomas Engineering Superstruss. The lighting riser featured Ayrton Huracan LT and GLP JDC1 fixtures.

Robe Spiider fixtures were situated on the up and downstage video trusses, with the floor package boasting the deployment of further Ayrton Eurus, LEDJ Spectra Flood Q15 and Chroma-Q Color Force 72 units, the latter chosen for key light. Atmospherics came in the shape of Smoke Factory Tour Hazer 2, Martin Professional JEM ZR45 and MDG Atmosphere ATMe hazers with TMB ProFans. “We had some challenging shows, implementing an arena-scale design into sheds in the US, but it’s been good to return to Europe and witness the fans enjoying the show,” added Lighting Crew Chief, James Box, who pinpointed the use of the multicoloured glass gobo in Hurricanes as among his favourite looks.

“There is a lot of effort put in by TANCK to ensure we get the utmost from every fixture on the rig, which is great to see, when the team has gone to the effort of assembling the show each morning. Seeing the looks they achieve from the rig and the extra details, with each advanced cue within the show, is a pleasure.

Almost every pixel on the JDC Line 1000 and X4 impression Bars are being used.”

Video Crew Chief, Dave Mallandain, formerly of Colour Sound Experiment, supervised the video build and the team of Video Technicians, Ed Driver, Frank Wlliams and Tim Curwen.

“Working with Colour Sound Experiment again, in a freelance capacity, certainly has its benefits,” he stated. “You get to know the workflows and personalities of the company. There is an element of trust there and our relationship is stronger because of that.” The 2.5m by 2.5m video screen, made up of Leyard CLM6 LED panels with Colorlight Z6 processing on the back end, was built in an abstract configuration – hung from varying size steel structures fixed on to lighting truss, spanning the entire stage, as opposed to a traditional backwall. “This setup requires us to build it quicker, so the backline can start building their world, but it’s very lightweight and easy to use, so once the local crew are up to speed, it flies up in no time,” he reported.

During the show, there was a lot of camera angles fed into a Blackmagic ATEM switcher, with content then fed into Resolume media servers which was processed and treated with video effects and filters to manipulate the content, monitored by the video team, and pre-programmed by Taylor via an MA Lighting grandMA3 console, operating in MA2 mode.

“The fan camera, which was one of Tom’s ideas, has evolved to the point where Frank and I are on stage during Out Of My System, pointing these cameras fabricated in an old VHS-style shell at Louis’ face in reference to the fisheye-lens inspired music video.”

A mixture of Marshall Electronics and Panasonic PTZ cameras ensured the wider on-stage action was captured. “While the visual content is the same, the shots differ based on the energy of the crowd from night to night,” he explained. “We have an overhead shot for the drums, and another behind Louis, which shoots over his shoulder to the crowd. We also have a PTZ camera on the ground in front of Louis which can rotate to capture crowd scans along with a little ‘bullet camera’ for each musician. It’s been a fantastic tour; everyone on this team has been phenomenal.”

The special effects and pyrotechnics package supplied by BPM SFX included Galaxis PFC 10-way receivers running Galaxis, with a main and a backup controller, which ran through an MA Lighting grandMA2 console, to trigger MagicFX Stadium Shot IIs and a single shot of red streamers. The latter, a “signature of Louis Tomlinson live shows”, according to BPM SFX Technician, Jack Webber – who toured with a new custom control rack, with much of the hardware integrated in one rack.

BPM SFX Account Handler, Matt Heap and SFX Technicians, Blake Harward and Phillip Mathew also provided Webber with support. “The one major change on this tour was putting the Stadium Shot IIs at the downstage edge, and adding lasers for the O2 arena show,” said Webber, who has been involved in past touring campaigns with the camp. “This is the first touring camp to take me to the US, so I feel incredibly privileged.”

Safety was paramount for the BPM SFX team, who implemented the safeguard of warning notices on-stage to ensure the band knew exactly when an effect was triggered. In closing, Webber referenced the ‘rainbow-inspired’ track, She Is Beauty We Are World Class, which demonstrated the strength of the special effects package. “There are about 22 rapid fire chase Comets all going off at the same time with a big lift, which differs in comparison to the other looks with eight units.”

MIXING IN A SEA OF SCREAMS FOH Engineer, John Delf mixed on an Avid S6L 32D console with onboard plug-ins. “I use the onboard plug-ins as much as possible because I want to keep it as simple as possible and know I’ve got a show out of the box without any added extras, which is particularly useful during fly-in gigs, where I have to use a house console or have limited time to set up,” he noted. Delf also toured with some choice pieces of outboard gear including a Rupert Neve Designs 5045 primary source enhancer for vocals, an Empirical Labs Fatso two-channel compressor for drums, and further Distressors for the bass guitar group and vocals.

“The bulk of my mixing is riding the DCA control groups and the vocals, balancing between them, and when there is a lead guitar solo, I’ll jump to that. Most of the mix should stay where it is, and I shouldn’t have to think about it, but every day you make major tweaks and refinements based on how the musicians are performing. Most of the gig is turning the band up and down without affecting the vocals because I have DCAs for drums, bass, guitars, keyboards, main vocal, backing vocals, and an ‘all’ DCA that includes everything but vocals,” he said, explaining his mixing wizardry modestly. “I also run snapshots in which I am changing the sub send amount for different songs, as well as reverb and delay times. If the band changes the set last minute, I have the desk synced to the timecode and that will trigger the snapshots.”

At the beginning of the set, the noise of the crowd can be between 112 to 116dB. “We have a little bit of headroom. When they are loud, I can push the mix, and when they are quieter, I can pull it back for the more introspective moments of the show,” he explained.

“My favourite section to mix is the transition from a cover of Arctic Monkeys’ 505 into Back to You. When that kicks in, I push the “All” DCA up to +10. We’ve built the set up to that point, where I’m able to throw it to the top before the end of the set. The three songs in the encore are also fun songs to mix,” he enthused, accenting the support of Solotech Account Handler, David Shepherd.

“I’ve worked with Dave for years, while he was at BCS Audio (now part of Solotech). He’s been my go-to account handler for a very long time, and Solotech has inherited this gig from them, so there was a natural transition.”

System Engineer and Head of Audio, Oli Crump walked TPi through the PA system: “We’ve been using L-Acoustics, which is our preference, since the start of last year’s tour. The main hang has been K1 with K2 downfill for both tours, however, we are touring with a much larger system this year with K2 on the sides instead of KARA-II. We’re flying subwoofers and carrying delays with us, which is also our preference in big arenas, like the O2 – it provides an even level of coverage across the audience,” the TPi Breakthrough Talent Award alumni said, explaining the thought process behind a larger sound system.

“The PA system is naturally bigger this year because we’re touring larger venues. The crowd is very loud, and we need to be able to compete with that at points of the show. The window of dynamic range we have without it being too loud is compressed because the background level from the crowd is so high, so we need to be able to get our level as consistent as possible from front to back. This setup really helps overcome that.”

Out of ear shot from Crump, Delf extolled the virtues of his partner at FOH: “Oli and I work well together. Every day, regardless of the venue, I know the system is going to sound consistent. We deal with different venue acoustics each day but as soon as I run up my virtual soundcheck, I’ve got the mix back to where I want it because the PA is at the same level every day. I used to walk the room a lot during sound check, but it always sounded consistent, so I’ve stopped doing that because I trust him explicitly.”

The PA generally sat in a standard location for an arena PA, 10.5m off centre and no wider than that, using the same basic system design as Louis Tomlinson’s past touring campaign, which Crump worked on with Kenny to ensure it didn’t impede the production design. “The number of boxes we deploy varies from show to show, based on the venue. The worst-case scenario [visually] is that the PA needs to be a little lower than usual and gets in the way of the IMAG screens slightly,” Crump detailed.

He designed the system using Soundvision, then imported his file into Network Manager, with a DirectOut Technologies PRODIGY.MP chosen for system processing. “I have visited many of the European arenas before so I’ve got fairly accurate plots, however, sometimes you will stumble across an error someone has made in building the models,” he continued. “Madrid’s WiZink Center had different CAD drawings for each layer of the venue and one of the layers was accidentally scaled wrong, so the bottom floors were fine but as you went up everything was out. You get curveballs like that occasionally but that’s why it’s important to verify drawings.”

An audience also changes the acoustics of a room, generally for the better, but sometimes not, so Crump was on hand at FOH to make tweaks when required. “As rooms get larger, they generally get more difficult, reverb time will go up purely as a factor of the room size, regardless of how you treat it. The O2 is quite tall seating-wise, so you end up having to angle the PA up into the roof a lot,” Crump noted.

Over by the stage, Monitor Engineer, Barrie Pitt mixed the five-piece band and frontman using a DiGiCo Quantum 338 console. “Louis and the band are good at verbalising what they want. They’ve been playing a long time, so it’s my job to translate those desires into the mix,” he explained. “DiGiCo has been my ‘go-to’ brand of console for the past 15 years. The 338 is an incredibly powerful console, which can do as much as any other on the market and more in a much less convoluted way. I know it like the back of my hand and how to get the best out of it and do the most complicated things at the push of a button. The Capture features are ridiculously powerful.”

Pitt oversaw 85 channels, 64 directly from stage, with additional channels for shouts, sends, returns, communications, and routing, among others. His outboard rack included a classic Lexicon PCM 91 digital reverberator for vocals. “The way I set up the communications and shout systems are the same across the board. For the layout, a lot of people have instruments on one side and vocal and effects on the other, however, I tend to adjust my banks of faders visually, how you would see it on stage, left to right, as a nod to my analogue mixing days. My second layer is usually tracks and any track content with reverbs next to the vocals, so they’re changed in unison. Sometimes, I’ll do a custom layer of [drum or spill group, two lead guitar channels and vocal] the things I use most, particularly if it’s a busy show input-wise.”

Pitt referred to the basis of his mix as ‘static’ with minor changes. “Louis changes a fair bit between songs I’m running upwards of 60 scenes with a lot of songs having multiple scenes for verse and chorus or specific sections,” he explained. The Monitor Engineer is a big believer in unifying the in-ear monitors, so what he hears is the same as those on stage. “We use Shure PSM1000s, JH Audio Roxanne in-ear monitors for Louis and JH16s for everyone else, except for the drummer, who is using Ultimate Ears IEMs. Louis and the band are solid, and they keep their ears in from start to finish. Louis wants the rock star mix; he likes to feel the weight of the mix. It’s not an overpowering mix but it’s a full mix with his vocal on top with Neve 5045 primary source enhancers on all vocals. Everyone else has a standard band mix at moderate level with their instrument and vocals high. The drummer has the most straightforward mix with his drums and shouts layered on top.”

A further pair of subwoofers stage left, and right were situated under the stage risers, providing the weight of side fills without the top end. “It’s a big rock show with drums and guitars, so the less noise I can have flying about the stage, the better,” he said.

The microphone package included a Shure Axient Digital AD4D two-channel digital wireless receiver, a AD2 vocal microphone with a KSM9 capsule for vocals. Sennheiser MKH 60 and AKG C414 XLS microphones captured the ambient noise of the room. “We track everything, including the two sets of ambient microphones for recording and virtual soundcheck, in case the band decides to do anything with the live content,” he noted.

Having collaborated with Solotech and previously BCS Audio multiple times, Pitt was pleased to see the company on the tour sheet. “They are a solid choice and I know Dave Shepherd well. They fix any problems swiftly, and all their gear is well packaged and maintained,” he said. “The band and crew are lovely. It’s rare to come across a camp so friendly on a show of this size.” Pitt thanked Solotech Monitor and Stage Technician, Matt Coton. “He is fantastic. He takes all the second guessing out of my day and is so meticulous and thorough that I know everything will be as it should be from the get-go. When there are issues, he knows exactly what to do to remedy it. He’s been a joy to work and hang out with.”

Audio Technicians, Matt Coton, Tim Miller, Kim Watson, Elliott Clarke, James Coghlan, Matt Benton; Bassist and Keyboard Technician, Chris Freeman; Guitar Technician, Dan Ely and Playback Technician, Scotty Anderson made up the sound team.

CURATING A HOME AWAY FROM HOME Sarah Nicholas of Sarah’s Kitchen and Caterers, Rebecca Henderson, Helena Robertson, Chris Carter, Matty Pople and Tamsin Manvell provided band and crew catering, ensuring morale stayed high and stomachs were full on the road. Making a name for themselves as One Direction’s caterers, the outfit now cater for each of the band members’ individual tours and private functions, amassing a dedicated online following. “I started catering for Louis and the rest of One Direction during their first theatre gig in Watford and I feel very privileged to have that connection. At dinner time, we perform a plate service, which I think is important – our reputation is not only built on really good food but the entire hospitality package, creating a nourishing environment away from home,” Nicholas said.

Sarah’s Kitchen provided a range of vegan, gluten-free and vegetarian options. “We also provide disposable products and water coolers, and our runner regularly collects fresh, local produce from markets based on where we are in the world,” she explained.

The wider European crew featured Security, Kristian ‘Ches’, Ross Foster, Ben Major, and Gav Kerr; Merchandisers, Jon Ellis and Maddy Stephens; Bus Drivers, Aivaras Arminas, Frederico Antunes, Scott Pickering, Chris Grover; Entourage Bus Driver, Paul Roberts; Merchandise Truck Driver, Warren Dowey; BTS UK Account Handler, Garry Lewis; Stardes Account Handlers, Tyrone Reynolds, and Alam Minshall; CSE Crosscom Account Handler, Hannah Evans and Altour Travel Account Handler, Alexandra Gati.

Having wrapped up the best-selling livestream of 2020 – a lofty achievement given the proliferation of remote productions amid the grounding of live events with in-person crowds – Tomlinson shows no signs of slowing down post-pandemic, making the leap from sold-out theatres to arenas across the globe with his trusty crew in tow. “Live From London was great because the crew and I really needed it,” Delf said. “It gave us some much-needed work amid the lockdown, and all the proceeds went directly to the crew, which was an incredibly honourable thing to do. To come back out on the other side of lockdown was great. It was a dark time back then for everyone, but to be back out on tour surrounded by friends, who feel more like family, it’s special.”

-> read here on Issuu

#louis #fitf tour #fitfwt #lt crew #tpi magazine #05.01.24 #article #touring #thank youu omglarryrabbit ;)#love getting to peek behind the scenes this is great

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