The people that you must remember (Kenny x Reader) (COMPLETE)

Enter Coon..god that's a stupid name

I wanna live in a world full of...
I wanna live in a world full of heroes!
Have NPR and CNN describe the latest teams.
I wanna tuck my kids in tight and tell 'em stories,
Of super-human glory,

while their sleepy faces beam.

You walked down the streets of South Park, humming along to your music, a bounce in your step. The sun had set and you were only about ten minutes from the school now. Some would say Clyde should have at least driven you back, but you'd have chosen to walk anyway. It was nice out and you needed a moment to think. You had to tell Kenny...well...

A lot of things.

The truth about your childhood, and..your feelings for him. You knew he shared them. After everything that had happened this week, how could he not? But still..there was that nagging anxiety that somehow, someway, you were misreading his signals. A small fear that if you admitted how you felt, he would just laugh at you. The logical part of you said that he wouldn't ever, but..

Something fat and hairy jumped down from an overhead fire escape, startling you and making you scream. You pulled out your pepper spray and immediately fired. The furry creature screamed and you recognized it instantly.

Literal Hitler Eric Cartman.

He wore, what looked to be, a shitty put together raccoon costume, with those little claw rings that goths usually wore. He covered his eyes, cussing loudly. You rolled your eyes, arms crossed. "Well, I never would have pegged your ass for a furry, Cartman, but if it makes you happy then that's cool." "I'm not Eric Cartman, you stupid bitch!" He yelled, looking at you with a pained red eye. "Uh Huh. So there just so happens to be another fat idiot his size running around tow-" You were cut off by him lunging at you, and you barely managed to stagger back and miss a swipe from his claws.

"I'm not Eric Cartman, and he is not fat!"

"Calm the fuck down! Jack in the box Jesus!"

What was with the people in this town having dangerous, sharp objects?!

"I am The Coon, the guardian of South Park and fighter of evil!" "That name is REALLY stupid." Did he even know..what that word meant? Like you got it, sure. The Coon..Raccoon..but still! "And I didn't think you were into LARPing. So you're a furry AND a LARPer." "Shut up!" Ooh, you struck a nerve. He lunged again, and while you moved out of the way, he managed to catch your arm. Three long gashes formed horizontally across your upper right arm, and were already starting to bleed. "Ow! God fucking dammit Cartman, stop being such a cunt!"

You loved that word, and saved it only for certain types of people. Literal Hitler Eric Cartman was definitely one of those people.

"I'm not a cunt!" Cartman, oh sorry, 'The Coon', snarled at you, licking the blood from his claws. You wrinkled your nose. "Dude, I got valley fever ages ago. That's contagious through blood." "ACK!" He started spitting on the ground. "See?! This is what I mean! YOU'RE the cunt! An EVIL cunt! You might have everyone else in this town fooled, (Y/N) (L/N), but you haven't fooled The Coon!" Dramatic much. You lifted your good arm, pepper spraying him again. He shrieked and tumbled right the ground, rolling around. You stood over him with a glare.

"Remember that comment I made when we first met? About during sex you would end up rolling around and squealing like a pig? I'm pretty sure this is what that would look like."

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

You rolled your eyes and started to walk around him, ready to peace the fuck out, when he reached out and grabbed your ankle, both tripping you and cutting it up pretty good. You fell to the ground, skinning your knee and tearing your tights. "YOU FAT BASTARD!" "I told you, I'm gonna kill you you cunty bitch!"

"...(Y/N)?"

Oh.

O H.

you recognized that Christian Bale impression anywhere. Pushing yourself up, you looked over your shoulder to see Mysterion standing a few feet behind you. He glanced from you, to The Coon, then to your bloody arm and ankle. His blue eyes softened at first, then took on a steely look. Even from where he stood, over an arms length away, you could feel the anger start to creep off him. You lifted your arm to wave and winced. Bad arm.

"....Coon.." Mysterion's voice came out as a growl, low and bitter.

So, uh...

was it normal to find angry Mysterion hot?

Asking for a friend.

"Mysterion, wait."

Oh! It was Timmy! He rolled around the corner, and with him was..Token Black. Wearing Tupperware. Weird flex, but okay.

"We will handle The Coon. You take (Y/N) to safety and tend to her wounds."

"The fuck he will-HEY! HEY STOP THAT!" The Coon sat up, pointing a clawed finger at Timmy. It was shaking. "YOU STOP RAPING MY BRAIN, Timmy!" He was then slammed back onto the ground by a swift, powerful kick to the gut by Mysterion. He looked at the fat furry with disgust. "...be glad it's just them. If you EVER do anything to hurt her again, I will kill you."

JUST ASKING FOR A FRIEND.

Mysterion gave him another hard kick, to the side this time, making him roll away from you. You were pretty sure Coon had at least one broken rib. Mysterion then crouched in front of you, checking your wounds. His touch was gentle, his glare replaced by a furrowed brow, though he still growled softly beneath his breath. "...it isn't too bad. You don't need stitches or anything." "Rad. Let me just.." You tried getting up, but before you could, Mysterion and scooped you up like a princess. Cradling you're close to his chest, he took off, easily jumping up the fire escape with you in his arms. You yelped and clung to him as the vigilante parkoured across the god damn rooftops. Coon was still yelling, but his voice grew more and more distant.