Work Text:
“This is BULLSHIT! How the fuck is this even possible?!”
Stan cowered before his sister. He was used to her fits of rage, but she seemed angrier here than she had in a long time.
“How the hell am I tagged in so few stories? I thought that this fandom loved teen angst! I have low self-esteem, a dead boyfriend, I was preyed on by a pedophile, and our parents treat me like an afterthought! My daddy issues are way worse than yours are!” Shelly jerked a thumb in her brother’s direction. “I’m basically walking fanfic fodder and it’s not like I’m overused in canon or anything! Where are the angsty one-shots about ME? I’m already a teenager! They don’t even need to age me up!”
“To be fair, you’re not yet at the ‘fun’ part of your teenage years,” Kyle tried. “Sixteen to eighteen is usually the preferred age range around here.”
“But that still doesn’t explain why I’m tagged in fewer fics than all of the other siblings!” Shelly protested. She gestured towards Tricia Tucker. “How the hell is this little turdling so popular?”
“D-dude, she’s Craig’s sister,” Stan stuttered. “And Creek is the most popular pairing on Archive of Our Own. Of course she’s going to be in a lot of fics.”
“So? I’m your sister and Style is the second most popular pairing here, but you don’t see me getting shoehorned into every single story that involves you! Authors will kill you or one of our parents off and I won’t get so much as a mention! Meanwhile, Craig will get a paper cut and his turd sister will be right there to make an obnoxious comment! Why the hell is she even lumped in with 'the siblings' in fanworks anyways? That turd in the stupid hat isn't even one of the main four!”
“I was in The Fractured But Whole,” Tricia said stoically.
“Oh, shut up about that stupid game!” Shelly roared. “Do you think that most normie South Park fans have actually played it? So you were finally named and finally spoke after over two decades and it wasn’t even on the show itself! Big deal! Most of the normal fan base still doesn’t even know who the fuck you are! You’re not even a real character! You’re basically wallpaper!”
Craig didn’t even bother to speak up on Tricia’s behalf. He was too busy wondering how he got dragged into this meta fic in the first place.
“Um, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Stan asked meekly.
“Yeah, you’re right. That duck print wallpaper in our bathroom has had more of an impact on the show than that little brat ever has and probably ever will! Apologies to the wallpaper!”
Kevin McCormick snickered at that.
Shelly turned on him next. “Shut up, Kevin! You’re not much better! The number of lines that you’ve had in 23 seasons can be counted on one hand and most of them were about waffles!”
Kevin couldn’t even dispute that. She was right.
“But somehow you’re still tagged in more stories than I am! At least once upon a time, the fandom remembered that I exist and I used to be able to count on the two of us being paired together in these stories, but now people are randomly throwing you together with Craig-”
"WHAT?!” Craig temporarily betrayed his stoic nature.
“Or Firkle -”
“What’s a Firkle?” Kevin whispered to Kenny.
“And don’t get me started on the McCormick-cest!”
“WHAT-cest?!” Kenny yelped, covering Karen’s ears.
“God, I hate this fandom!” Shelly bellowed. “Why do they cling to human props like this and ignore me? It’s bad enough that Matt and Trey forget about me!”
“Matt and Trey forget about Tricia and especially Kevin too,” Stan said reasonably. “Fanfic authors are making up for that.”
“And you have an established personality,” Kyle added. “People like writing about these two because they’re basically blank slates.”
“Translation: since they don’t have personalities, people don’t have to worry about making them out of character,” Shelly snapped. “That’s fucking lazy! Besides, those theories don't even hold water! Your turd brother is tagged in a shitload of stories!”
Kyle was starting to get indignant. “My brother has been around since the pilot episode, goddammit! We have a great relationship! What the hell do you expect?”
Kyle's angry rant died in his throat when Shelly advanced on him. As temperamental as he was, he was no match for her.
“And he’s so young that he’s almost another blank slate that writers can project onto! He hasn’t even spoken in complete sentences for the majority of the show’s run!”
“BA BA BA BA BA!” Ike was so offended that he regressed back to his earlier seasons portrayal.
“But I will admit that at least he does more than cry and cling to you, which is more than I can say for her!” Shelly pointed at Karen.
Karen burst into tears and clung to Kenny. Kenny glared at Shelly behind her back.
“S-shelly, can I say something?” Stan timidly asked.
“Spit it out, turd!”
“Did you ever think that there might be a reason that you don’t appear in a lot of stories?”
“Such as?” Shelly replied skeptically.
“I mean, think about it. You aren’t going to stick around after you graduate high school, are you?”
“Hell, no!” Shelly was horrified by the very thought. “I’m booking it the second I turn eighteen!”
“Well, ninety nine percent of the fanfic here takes place when me and my friends are at least sixteen. There’s usually no organic or in-character way to include you in those fics.”
“And you really won’t like how you’re portrayed in some the few post-canon fics that you do appear in,” Kyle added.
“What do you mean?” Shelly asked curiously.
“I mean that a lot of fanfic authors don’t allow you to mature. I’ve seen people portray you exactly the same at twenty one as you are at thirteen. Do you really want to read about yourself living at home when you’re well into your twenties with no job, no boyfriend, no car, and still sitting on the couch screaming about what a turd your brother is? And a lot of the times you’re portrayed as even more cartoonishly evil than you were in canon during the first two seasons.”
Shelly was appalled. How could those turds even think of doing this to her? Were they allergic to character development or something?
“But - but I get to be pretty, right? Please tell me that I get to grow up pretty!” Shelly said desperately. She grabbed Stan by his collar.
“S-sometimes,” Stan stuttered. “It used to be common in the earlier days of the fandom, in fact. But not so much in recent years. I’m not sure why.”
Shelly let go of her brother. “I have not spent all of this time being forced to wear this - this TORTURE DEVICE - only to end up a fucking Plain Jane or worse! Besides, Mom is considered a MILF! Dad was chosen to be in a boy band specifically based on his looks! The odds are in my favor, dammit!”
“And, um, sometimes people have you still wearing your headgear when you’re an adult,” Stan added quickly.
Stan would have laughed at the look of abject horror on his sister’s face if she wasn’t so fucking terrifying.
Shelly’s horrified face melted into a wrathful one. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Doesn’t this stupid fandom know how orthodontia works? There’s no way that I should still be wearing this thing after I’m fucking fifteen and that’s pushing it! Let me enjoy the rest of my teen years, you turds!”
The kids silently watched as Shelly continued to rant and rave.
“This is even worse than I thought! The fandom allows everybody but me to mature, I’m still fucking ugly even in fanfic, and I’m fucking tagged in the fewest stories out of all of the siblings!”
“Well, not ALL of the siblings,” a voice spoke up.
All of the heads in the room swiveled to see Scott Tenorman stepping out of the shadows.
“OH JESUS CHRIST, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Cartman had been uncharacteristically silent until now.
Scott ignored his half brother and approached Shelly.
“You think you have it bad? At least the number of stories that you’re tagged in is in the triple digits! I’m only tagged in 40. Seriously. 40. That Craig kid’s guinea pig is tagged in 94 fics!”
Shelly shot Scott a sympathetic look. She might have been tagged in fewer fics that actual human props, but at least they were human.
“My actions changed the trajectory of the show. If it wasn’t for me, this fat piece of shit-”
“‘AY!”
“-this fat piece of shit would still only be a whiny, spoiled brat instead of the deranged psychopath that the fans have come to know and love. Kyman probably wouldn’t even crack the top ten most popular pairings if he still had his original personality!”
Kyle scowled at Scott. “Thanks a lot, asshole!”
“Gregory, Christophe, Damien. None of them have impacted the show’s canon the way I have. But they’re still included in a fuck ton of stories. And I think I know why.”
“Why?” Shelly questioned.
“It’s because fans find them shippable. There’s Gregstophe, Dip, Kystophe, Stangory. But there’s nobody that I can really be shipped with... well, almost nobody.”
Scott looked at Shelly intently.
“What?” she snapped. She was starting to feel self-conscious. Her cheeks heated up.
Stan nearly did a double take. Was his sister blushing?
“You know, you’re a lot older than you look.”
“Tell me about it,” Shelly grumbled. Her stupid outdated character design made her look like a fifth grader. She wanted her nose, goddammit.
“And if we go by ‘Cat Orgy’ to determine your age instead of ‘Cash for Gold’, you should have already turned fourteen in canon. We could be as little as one grade apart in school.”
“Okay...” Shelly wasn’t exactly sure where Scott was going with this.
“You want to get out of here?” Scott offered. “I bet the two of us can really fuck shit up together.”
Shelly felt the corners of her mouth turn up in spite of herself. “Okay.”
“Cool. Shakey's is on me.” Scott offered Shelly his hand and she happily took it.
“You traitorous bitch!” Cartman bellowed. “Is this the thanks I get for helping you get back at your pedo boyfriend?”
Shelly flipped him off in reply.
“She stole my only character trait!” Tricia complained to Craig, who just wanted to go home.
“That was... weird,” Kyle said.
“Yeah,” Stan agreed. "But you know what? I’ve learned something today.”
“What?” asked Kenny.
“... Nothing. The author is just having trouble coming up with an ending to this story. Let's go, it’s almost time for Terrence and Phillip.”
