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solxamber · 7 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: How to Ruin a Plot || Jade Leech

When you end up as the villainess in a story that's hellbent on making her suffer for no reason, you decide to make the main characters suffer just for catharsis. Good thing that your fiancé, Jade Leech seems to like chaos as much as you.

Series Masterlist

Dinner wasn’t much to write home about—a plate of lukewarm spaghetti that could generously be described as "functional," paired with a salad so sad it could star in its own soap opera. But you had something better: entertainment.

And by entertainment, you meant the literary dumpster fire currently sitting in your hands.

This book. This book.

The plot was so catastrophically terrible that it looped around to being hilarious. You chewed your subpar spaghetti and flipped a page, trying not to laugh too hard at the sheer absurdity of what you were reading.

The villainess, a talented duchess and renowned potion maker, was saddled with some of the worst clients in existence. The saintess—of course, she was a saintess, because originality was clearly out of the question—was engaged to the Duke of the North. Why? Who knows. It wasn’t like they seemed to like each other. In fact, she was also having a very public affair with the prince.

And not just any prince. A balding prince.

Because nothing screams “romantic rival” like the slow and tragic retreat of one’s hairline.

They were both the worst. The kind of people who would demand a 12-step skincare routine from their servants but would balk at paying them a living wage. When the villainess refused to make them more potions for ridiculous requests like “immunity to insults” (seriously?), they decided to frame her for crimes and have her executed.

The sheer audacity.

But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. The villainess had a fiancé—Jade Leech, poor guy—who tried his best to help her escape. And what did she do? Sacrificed herself so he wouldn’t get dragged into her mess. Noble, sure, but also infuriating because she died for them.

And then Jade, now heartbroken and understandably bitter, became the main antagonist. Only to be defeated by the same cartoonishly bland protagonists who caused the entire mess.

It was like someone handed a six-year-old a book contract and said, “Go wild, kid. Just make sure it has betrayal and love triangles, and throw in some magic potions or something.”

You forked another sad tangle of spaghetti into your mouth and tried not to choke from laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. The characters had all the depth of a kiddie pool, the plot holes were big enough to drive a carriage through, and the pacing? What pacing? This story had clearly decided pacing was for cowards.

You flipped to another page, nearly snorting when the saintess justified her affair by saying, “It’s what the goddess would want."

Sure, Jan.

And just as you were about to take another bite of dinner, it happened.

A mushroom. A mushroom.

You didn’t even realize it had slipped into your spaghetti until it was already lodged in your throat. Panic set in as you clawed at your neck, gasping for air while your brain helpfully supplied one last thought:

Can’t believe a mushroom took me out. Goddammit.

And then everything went dark.

The first thing you notice is the carpet: thick, plush, and entirely too luxurious for someone who had been laughing themselves to death over garbage-tier literature just moments ago. The second thing you notice is that you’re alive, which is great. Except you’re no longer in your cozy little living room.

No, you’re in a gothic mansion straight out of an interior decorator's fever dream. Dark wood, brooding paintings, and vials of suspicious liquids lined up neatly on shelves. For a second, you think you’ve wandered into a Dracula fan convention, but then it hits you.

The novel. The Poisoned Duchess and the Frozen Heart of the North.

You scramble to your feet, heart pounding. “No. No, no, no, no,” you mutter, sprinting to the nearest mirror. A familiar (and obnoxiously beautiful) face stares back at you. Elegant curls, piercing eyes, and an expression that could curdle milk. Yep. You’re the Duchess—the villainess who gets executed for daring to have standards.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan, gripping the edge of the vanity. “I was just making fun of this! How did I end up here? Is this karma? Did the mushroom do this?!”

You spend a good ten minutes pacing the room, muttering to yourself like a squirrel with a caffeine problem. “Okay, okay, think. The Saintess and the Prince are nuts, and they’re gonna come here demanding potions for their ridiculous nonsense like ‘immunity to sarcasm’ or whatever. Solution? Close the shop. Sell it. Let some other poor soul deal with their unhinged requests. Genius! But what next? What about the fiancé—oh god, Jade!”

Jade Leech. The fiancé you had casually dismissed in your tirade against the novel. The one who was supposed to be self-sacrificing, and eventually doomed. But now he’s your fiancé, and you’re not about to let him become collateral damage in this flaming dumpster fire of a plot.

“We’ll run away!” you declare, pointing dramatically at an imaginary horizon. “We’ll elope, move to some peaceful countryside, grow tomatoes, and live a happy, Saintess-free life. Screw the plot. Screw the Duke. Screw the Saintess and her balding fiancé—”

You’re mid-sentence when the sound of a door opening interrupts your theatrical monologue. You spin around and freeze.

Standing in the doorway is Jade Leech himself. And oh boy, the novel did not do him justice. His sharp features, soft teal hair, and piercing eyes make your brain short-circuit. The man looks like he walked out of an ethereal fairy tale and promptly decided to make everyone else look like peasants.

He leans casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and raises a brow. “Well, this is quite the scene to walk into.”

You blink. And then you blink again, because your brain is still stuck on handsome fiancé alert. “Uh…”

Jade smirks, clearly amused. “Is this a private performance, or can anyone join? Because I’m not sure who you’re planning to screw, but it sounds… ambitious.”

You want to die all over again. “I—uh, would you… like to join my plans?”

His eyes gleam with mischief. “Plans, you say? That depends. Do these plans involve anything more exciting than managing a potion shop?”

“Yes! So much more exciting!” you blurt out. “We close the shop, sell it, cause some chaos, run away, and live happily ever after far away from this stupid place! No Saintess. No Duke. Just… us. Tomatoes. Maybe a goat.”

Jade chuckles, the sound warm and entirely too pleasant for your frazzled state of mind. “You’ve certainly caught my interest. All right, I’m in. A little chaos sounds much better than… whatever normalcy is supposed to look like.”

He steps closer, and you swear your brain bluescreens again because wow, personal space doesn’t exist here, huh? Jade offers his hand, his smile sharp but oddly sincere. “So, where do we start, my prodigal Duchess?”

You take his hand, still half-dazed. “Step one: Screw the Saintess.”

He laughs again. “Now that’s the kind of plan I can get behind.”

Meeting Jade's brother was like getting hit by a rogue wave of chaos. You'd thought Jade was the wild card of the family, but then Floyd Leech burst into the room like a hurricane wearing a grin.

He looked at you with an intensity that made you feel like you were being appraised for your entertainment value, then immediately announced, "You wanna screw with the Saintess and the Duke? Oh, I’m in.”

You stared at him for a long moment, then at Jade, who gave you an apologetic shrug, clearly used to Floyd’s… energy. You decided, then and there, that you were extremely lucky to have been paired with the Leech brother who at least pretended to respect social norms.

Floyd, however, was a force of nature and, admittedly, a useful one. He seemed far too enthusiastic about the chaos you were planning, but hey, when life gives you a human typhoon, you use it to wreak havoc.

Then there was Azul Ashengrotto. Meeting him felt less like talking to a person and more like negotiating with an overly polite shark. “I can provide you protection,” he said smoothly, pushing a contract toward you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You glanced at the contract, then back at him. “And what does this… "protection" demand in return?”

“Oh, nothing too demanding,” Azul said, waving his hand as if it was all very casual. “Just a few favors in return. Small things, really.”

You stared at the fine print and felt your soul start to sweat. This wasn’t just protection—it was a fast track to selling your soul to the fish mafia.

“Tell you what,” you said, shoving the contract back toward him. “I’ll sell the potion shop to you for cheap if you help me with whatever plans I come up with.”

Azul tilted his head, intrigued. “And what’s in it for me?”

“You get to own the best potion shop in the kingdom without dealing with the Saintess and her entourage of entitlement.”

His eyes gleamed. “Done. But if you get arrested, you won’t mention my name.”

“Deal,” you said, shaking his hand. Internally, you made a note to burn the shop down if things went south. Better a pile of ash than Azul owning it and your dignity.

The next day, you decided to drop by a boutique to prepare for the Saintess’s tea party. Not because you cared about the event, but because you cared very deeply about ruining her day.

You knew exactly what she was planning to wear—some pastel monstrosity—and you were determined to outshine her. You’d wear an upgraded version of her outfit, but classier, sharper, and absolutely dripping with pettiness.

The boutique owner was taking your measurements when you told them to send the bill to your butler. That was when Jade, who had been quietly browsing nearby, strolled over. He casually slid his arm around your waist, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and said, “Send the bill to me.”

You whipped around, scandalized. “Excuse me?!”

He leaned in, his mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just want everyone to know you’re my fiancée,” he murmured, his voice low and entirely too close to your ear.

Your brain promptly blue-screened. He was too close, his scent too distracting, and his hand on your waist was doing things to your equilibrium. The boutique owner pretended not to notice your obvious malfunction, but Jade? Jade looked like he was having the time of his life.

“Fine,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you tried to collect the scattered pieces of your dignity.

“Good,” Jade said, his smirk widening.

He didn’t let go of you after that. Oh no, he kept his hand firmly on the small of your back as you left the boutique. Every step was an exercise in not collapsing from the sheer audacity of his touch.

Meanwhile, Jade looked perfectly at ease, as if his sole purpose in life was to see how long it would take you to spontaneously combust.

By the time you got back to the mansion, you were sure of one thing: Jade Leech was going to be the death of you, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The tea party was shaping up to be the highlight of your career as a petty agent of chaos. You arrived late, naturally—nothing screams “I’m better than you” quite like waltzing in when everyone’s already seated.

The moment you stepped into the pavilion, a collective gasp swept through the crowd. Your dress—custom-tailored, one-of-a-kind, and effortlessly overshadowing every other outfit there—practically glowed in the sunlight.

The Saintess, perched at the head of the table, turned to greet you, her expression instantly souring when she caught sight of your gown. Oh, you could practically hear the cogs in her head screeching to a halt as she realized you’d completely outdone her.

“Oh my,” you said, offering a demure smile as you made your way to your seat. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” she replied, her voice as sweet as arsenic. “What a… bold choice of dress.”

“Oh, this?” You gestured casually, as though you weren’t wearing something that could stop traffic. “My fiancé picked it out for me. He has such excellent taste, don’t you think?”

You didn’t need to look directly at her to see the way her jaw clenched. You could feel her rage simmering from across the table. After all, her own fiancé, or even the Balding Prince, hadn’t bothered to buy her a dress, let alone one that could compete with yours. You almost felt bad for her. Almost.

From there, the afternoon devolved into a series of increasingly petty power plays.

When the Saintess poured herself a cup of tea, you made a point to remark on how “rustic” her teapot was.

When she complimented the garden’s flowers, you chimed in with, “Oh, are these the same ones you tried to grow last year? I remember hearing how they all died!”

Every little comment was a carefully aimed dart, and she was too polite—or perhaps too afraid of snapping in public—to retaliate. The guests, of course, were eating it up.

The pièce de résistance came when the Balding Prince himself approached you during the party.

“I need a potion,” he said, puffing himself up like a rooster trying to assert dominance. “For my, uh, hair.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. Of all the scenarios you’d envisioned, this was not one of them.

“Your hair?” you echoed, doing your best to keep a straight face. “What kind of potion are we talking about here? Growth? Volume? Shine?”

The Prince’s eye twitched. “That’s… none of your business,” he snapped.

Before you could respond, Jade—bless him—“accidentally” bumped into the Prince from behind, sending his ridiculous feathered hat tumbling to the ground.

The gasp that followed was deafening.

There it was, in all its glory: the shiny, blinding expanse of the Prince’s balding crown, gleaming like a beacon of despair in the afternoon sun.

For a moment, the pavilion was silent. Then someone coughed. Then someone else giggled. And before long, the entire tea party was a symphony of poorly stifled laughter.

“It’s, uh, a royal tradition!” the Prince stammered, clutching his hat and jamming it back onto his head. “A sign of wisdom and… and…”

He trailed off, clearly out of excuses, and fled the scene faster than you’d ever seen anyone run in formalwear.

The Saintess looked like she was about to implode. Unfortunately for her, the Third Male Lead (Yes, there were 3 of them) chose that exact moment to swoop in, all charm and wit as he began lavishing her with attention. You leaned back in your chair, sipping your tea and basking in the chaos like a cat who’d just knocked over an entire shelf of priceless antiques.

“Nice work,” you murmured to Jade, holding up your hand for a discreet high five.

Instead of obliging, he grabbed your hand and laced his fingers through yours, the smirk on his face practically criminal.

“You’re far more fun than I expected,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You stared at him, your brain immediately short-circuiting. Your default response to most situations was sarcasm or snark, but this? This was uncharted territory.

“Uh… thanks?” you managed, your voice coming out embarrassingly squeaky.

Jade chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as if to emphasize just how flustered you were.

“Come on,” he said, his tone far too casual for someone who’d just ruined you in front of an audience. “Let’s go cause more trouble.”

He kept his hand on the small of your back as you walked away from the pavilion, and you were pretty sure your soul left your body every time he leaned in to whisper some biting comment about the Saintess or her rapidly expanding collection of admirers.

One thing was certain: you were having the time of your life, and this was only the beginning.

The day begins innocently enough, which should have been your first warning.

You’re peacefully reading in the library, enjoying the silence, when Floyd barrels in like a hurricane. “Oi, c’mon, you gotta help me!” he hisses, grabbing your wrist before you can protest.

“Help you with what?” you manage to ask as you’re dragged down the corridor, nearly tripping over your own feet.

“It’s Jade,” Floyd says ominously. “He’s made mushrooms again.”

Ah, that explains it. You’ve heard rumors about Jade’s culinary experiments, but you’d yet to experience them firsthand.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Floyd grins, the kind of grin that promises nothing good. “Well, I told him you love mushrooms.”

You stop dead in your tracks. “You what?”

Before you can bolt, Floyd shoves you through the greenhouse door and slams it shut behind you.

Inside, the room is warm and humid, filled with the earthy scent of soil and plants. At the far end, Jade is bent over a terrarium, meticulously arranging its contents with tweezers.

He looks up when he hears you enter, his expression brightening. “Ah, you’re here!”

Your heart sinks.

Floyd’s words echo in your mind—you love mushrooms. If only he knew. Mushrooms were the reason you got isekai’d in the first place, and the trauma of choking on one is still fresh in your memory. But now, faced with Jade’s expectant gaze and a plate of what looks like sautéed mushrooms on the table, you realize you’re trapped.

“Floyd said you were eager to try these,” Jade says, his tone polite but unmistakably pleased.

You glance at the mushrooms, then back at Jade. He looks so hopeful, like someone who’s spent hours perfecting a recipe and is finally sharing it with someone who’ll appreciate it. You swallow hard.

“Of course!” you say, forcing a smile that feels more like a grimace. “I love mushrooms.”

You sit down at the table, and Jade places the plate in front of you. The mushrooms actually smell... good. Earthy and buttery, with a hint of garlic and herbs.

“Bon appétit,” he says, watching you intently.

You pick up a fork, your hands trembling slightly, and stab a piece. You can do this, you tell yourself. It’s not the mushroom’s fault you died. It’s just food.

With one final breath, you pop the piece into your mouth.

...It’s delicious.

The flavor is rich and savory, perfectly balanced, and the texture is tender without being mushy. You blink in surprise, then take another bite.

“Good?” Jade asks, and there’s a slight smugness in his tone.

“It’s amazing,” you admit, unable to stop yourself from eating more.

Jade’s smile widens, and something in his expression softens.

After finishing the plate, you linger in the greenhouse as Jade continues tending to his terrariums. You watch him work, his hands deft and precise as he rearranges moss, misting the plants with care.

“Need help with anything?” you ask, feeling unexpectedly at ease.

He glances at you, then gestures to a nearby shelf. “If you don’t mind organizing the vials, that would be helpful.”

You nod and get to work, sorting the various bottles of nutrients and spores while Jade hums softly under his breath. The atmosphere is peaceful, the kind of quiet that feels alive rather than stifling.

Once the terrariums are in perfect order, Jade brews a pot of tea, and you both sit at a small table nestled among the plants. The tea is fragrant, its warmth soothing as you take a sip.

Jade sits across from you, one hand resting lightly on the table. Absentmindedly, you reach out and place your hand over his.

He freezes for a moment, his eyes flicking to your joined hands. His usual calm demeanor falters, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “You’re quite bold,” he murmurs, though there’s a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You suppress a grin, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before turning your attention back to your tea. “And you’re holding my hand,” you point out casually.

“I suppose I am,” he says, his voice steady again, though his ears are noticeably red.

The two of you sit there for a while longer, sipping tea and enjoying the greenhouse’s serenity. Jade, ever the polite menace, pretends to be unfazed, but you catch him glancing at your joined hands more than once.

You smile into your cup, the taste of mushrooms and tea lingering on your tongue.

You wake up to the sound of maniacal laughter, the kind that belongs to either an evil overlord or someone who just discovered how to unlock infinite in-game currency. For one groggy moment, you wonder if the devil himself has come to collect you for your sins. But as your eyes flutter open, reality (and dread) sets in.

It’s not the devil. It’s Floyd.

“Why?” you croak, sitting up in your chair and rubbing your eyes. “Why are you like this?”

Jade, ever the epitome of composed chaos, is sitting calmly across from you, sipping tea and looking highly amused. “Ah, you’re awake,” he says with a smile that suggests nothing good is about to happen.

“I had the best idea!” Floyd exclaims, still cackling. “It’s gonna be hilarious!”

Jade gives you a knowing look, the kind that says, This is going to be a disaster, but I want to watch it unfold.

You should probably shut this down. You should. But instead, you wave a hand and mumble, “Sure, go wild.”

It turns out “wild” was underselling it.

Floyd’s “brilliant” idea? Convince the Saintess to organize a grand sword-fighting competition under the premise that the Balding Prince would absolutely win. To no one’s surprise (except maybe the Saintess), she fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“She’s been gushing about how he’s ‘a natural-born warrior,’” Floyd reports gleefully during the planning phase. “She’s even betting on him!”

You glance at Jade, who is practically glowing with smug anticipation. That should have been your first clue to intervene. Instead, you shrug and think, Eh, it’ll be fine.

It was, in fact, not fine.

When the announcement of the tournament goes public, the Balding Prince—bless his fragile ego—realizes he has a slight problem. Namely, the fact that he’s never held a sword in his life, let alone used one. Naturally, he comes crawling to you.

“I need a potion,” he demands, his tone somewhere between entitled and desperate. “To, uh, enhance my… swordsmanship.”

You lean back in your chair, trying to look unimpressed. “Oh, I don’t sell potions anymore,” you say airily.

The Prince glares at you, his bald spot gleaming under the room’s chandelier. “I’ll pay you.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“How about enough gold to fund your entire territory for the next twenty years?”

You sit up straight. “You drive a hard bargain, Your Highness.”

The potion you make for him is top-notch—for two hours. After that, well, let’s just say it’s going to be a long day for the Balding Prince.

The tournament goes about as chaotically as you expect. Jade, a genuinely skilled swordsman, carves his way through every round with ease. The Prince, meanwhile, is barely holding on, relying entirely on the potion to scrape by. Somehow, by sheer luck and Floyd’s endless meddling, the Prince manages to make it to the final round.

By this point, the Saintess is practically glowing with excitement, convinced her fiancé is about to cement his status as a legendary warrior. “He’s going to win for sure!” she squeals, clapping her hands.

You sip your tea, barely suppressing your smirk. Oh, sweet summer child.

The final round begins with Jade and the Prince stepping into the arena. The crowd roars with anticipation. The Saintess is preening in the stands, while the Empress looks vaguely mortified, as though she knows what’s about to happen but can’t stop it.

And then, right on cue, the potion wears off.

The Prince’s stance falters immediately, his grip on the sword going from “warrior” to “child holding a bat for the first time.” Jade doesn’t even have to try. One expertly placed strike sends the Prince’s weapon flying across the arena, and the match ends with the Prince sprawled on the ground, dazed and defeated.

The crowd erupts into laughter, and you’re pretty sure you see the Emperor facepalm.

To add insult to injury, the Emperor himself has to present the winner’s diadem to Jade. But instead of wearing it himself, Jade turns to you with a wicked grin.

“For you, my dear,” he says, placing the diadem on your head with a flourish.

The crowd loses it.

The Empress looks like she’s contemplating disowning her son on the spot. The Saintess bursts into tears and flees the arena, with the Prince stumbling after her, trying to explain his humiliating defeat.

You, meanwhile, stand in the center of the chaos, smiling peacefully.

“This,” you murmur, “is the best day of my life.”

The market was lively, the kind of lively that felt one loose cart wheel away from utter chaos. You’d gone there to buy something mundane—perhaps herbs, maybe a decorative pot, who even remembered anymore? What you did remember was spotting Azul, impeccably dressed as usual, standing at a stall that sold ornamental quills.

“Azul!” you called out, dragging Jade with you as you made your way over.

Azul turned, one brow arching as he spotted the two of you. “Ah, the duchess and her ever-present shadow. What brings you here?”

“Just window shopping,” you said vaguely, though Jade’s sudden fascination with terrarium accessories suggested otherwise.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, the three of you were headed to a charming little café. It had the kind of ambiance that said, I’m wildly overpriced, but look at our aesthetic! Jade held the door open for you, and you stepped inside, marveling at the array of desserts in the display case.

You barely had time to settle into your seat when the atmosphere shifted.

There she was.

The Saintess.

You tried to ignore her, truly, but her obnoxious aura was as subtle as a bull in a porcelain shop. She was seated nearby, flanked by her entourage of lackeys. They whispered, they giggled, and they kept looking at you. You rolled your eyes and leaned closer to Jade and Azul, focusing on your conversation.

But peace, as usual, was not in the cards.

One of the lackeys—a girl who had the smug look of someone who thought her two brain cells were revolutionary—approached your table. In her hands was a steaming cup of tea, and the moment you saw it, a sense of foreboding settled over you.

And then, with all the subtlety of a villain in a children’s cartoon, she “tripped.”

The tea flew through the air in slow motion, a graceful arc of impending disaster. You braced for impact, but Jade moved faster. He stepped in front of you, shielding you from the scalding liquid. Most of it missed him, but a splash landed on his hand.

“Jade!” you exclaimed, grabbing his arm to inspect the burn.

Meanwhile, the lackey straightened herself up, not even bothering to fake remorse. “Oops,” she said, her tone so insincere it could’ve curdled milk. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?” you repeated, your voice rising. “You carried a boiling cup of tea across the room, aimed it at our table, and ‘accidentally’ threw it at us?”

She shrugged, her smirk widening. “My dad will pay for any damages. And you’re overreacting. It’s just tea.”

Overreacting? Oh, you were about to react, all right.

Azul, meanwhile, was unusually quiet. His tie had been stained in the splash zone, and his tight-lipped smile was beginning to look like it could crack glass.

The lackey continued, oblivious to the metaphorical storm clouds gathering over Azul. “Anyway, if you keep making a scene, it’ll just look bad for you. My dad’s pretty important, you know.”

“Oh?” Azul said suddenly, his voice as smooth as silk but with an edge sharp enough to cut steel. “And who might your father be?”

The lackey puffed up with pride. “He’s the finance manager for the duchess’s estate!”

There was a beat of silence. You exchanged a glance with Azul, and then your lips curled into a predatory smile.

“Azul,” you said sweetly, “guess whose daddy is about to lose his job?”

The ride back to your estate was tense—for you, at least. Jade sat calmly beside you, his hand resting on his knee, but you couldn’t stop fussing over his burn.

“Stop squirming,” you said, dabbing at his hand with a damp cloth.

“I’m fine,” Jade insisted, though his amused tone suggested he was enjoying your concern far too much.

“You’re not fine,” you retorted. “What if it scars? What if it gets infected?”

“Then I’ll have a mark to remember your attention by,” he said, his lips twitching into a half-smile.

You glared at him, but your fussing didn’t stop. By the time you reached the estate, you were practically vibrating with righteous fury.

The finance manager stood in your office, visibly confused.

“You’re fired,” you said bluntly.

His jaw dropped. “What? Why?”

You crossed your arms, your smile as sharp as a blade. “Ask your daughter.”

“What does she have to do with this?” he demanded, his face turning red.

“Everything,” you replied. “Guards, escort him out.”

He sputtered and protested, but you didn’t care. Justice had been served.

Later, after the physician had checked Jade’s hand and declared him fine, you collapsed onto the nearest couch, your exhaustion finally catching up to you. Without thinking, you ended up sprawled across Jade’s lap.

He stiffened, his hands hovering awkwardly before he cautiously placed one on your back to keep you from sliding off.

“Comfortable?” he asked dryly, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrayed him.

You hummed in response, already half-asleep. Within moments, your breathing evened out, and you nodded off.

Jade, for his part, was thoroughly smitten. His usual composure cracked as he replayed the day’s events—your fiery anger on his behalf, the way you’d fretted over his injury, and now, the way you looked so peaceful resting against him.

His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, and he allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.

“Quite the enigma,” he murmured to himself, already planning how to keep you close.

The ballroom was a spectacle of opulence. Chandeliers glittered overhead, casting soft golden light on the polished floors and the parade of nobles in their finest silks and velvets.

This was supposed to be a night of grand announcements, of declarations of love, and of the start of some “epic romance” that would undoubtedly be inscribed into the annals of history—or, at least, that's what the original novel promised.

But as you stood to the side with Jade and Floyd, it was evident that this version of events was hurtling off the rails.

Enter: the Duke of the North.

The poor man barely stepped into the ballroom before his eyes landed on the prince and the saintess. You could physically see the will to live drain out of him as his shoulders slumped, his gaze unfocused like he was calculating the fastest way to fake his own death and disappear into the wilderness.

It was almost pitiful. Almost.

The prince, meanwhile, had puffed up his chest and was grinning like he hadn’t recently been humiliated in front of half the kingdom. And the saintess—oh, she was trying, bless her delusional heart.

Smiling demurely, batting her lashes, and putting on a performance that might have worked if her reputation hadn’t already been stomped into the dirt by your carefully orchestrated chaos.

You leaned toward Jade and whispered, “I think the Duke’s trying to plot his own escape.”

Jade’s lips twitched in amusement, but he kept his usual calm demeanor. Floyd, however, cackled loudly enough to draw a few stares.

Then, the moment arrived: the prince stepped forward, his cape swishing dramatically as he raised his goblet. “Tonight, I announce my bride-to-be, the one chosen by the heavens themselves—the saintess!”

There was a smattering of applause, mostly out of obligation, but you were too busy watching the Duke. The man visibly sagged with relief, his shoulders dropping like he’d just been unshackled from a lifetime of servitude. You could practically hear the mental thank the gods echoing in his head.

And then, as if shedding the weight of the world, he turned on his heel and made a beeline—toward you.

You blinked, momentarily stunned as the Duke of the North, the supposed male lead, bowed deeply and extended a hand toward you. “Would you honor me with the first dance, my lady?”

You opened your mouth to decline, because this wasn’t in any script you remembered, but before you could utter a word, Jade smoothly stepped in.

“Apologies, Duke,” he said with his signature polite menace, “but she already promised this dance to me.”

Without waiting for a response, Jade’s hand found the small of your back, and he gently yet firmly guided you to the dance floor. The Duke was left standing there, his hand still outstretched, looking mildly bewildered.

“Don’t worry!” Floyd piped up, appearing out of nowhere. “I’ll dance with you!”

Before the Duke could protest, Floyd latched onto his arm and practically dragged him into a lively—and utterly chaotic—dance that looked like a mix of a waltz and a sparring match. The Duke’s expression alternated between horror and resignation, while Floyd grinned like he was having the time of his life.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably as you watched the scene.

Jade glanced down at you, his expression softening as he took in your laughter. His usual cool demeanor melted for just a moment, replaced by something so tender it made your heart stutter.

The realization hit you like a lightning bolt.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

You were in love with him.

And not the “oh, he’s handsome and I tolerate his presence” kind of love. This was the “I want to spend my life laughing and dancing and plotting petty revenge schemes with you” kind of love.

The thought was overwhelming, and before you could stop yourself, you buried your face in Jade’s chest.

He stilled for a moment, surprised, but then his arms encircled you, holding you close as he continued to sway to the rhythm of the music.

He didn’t question it, didn’t tease you, didn’t even comment. Instead, he rested his chin lightly on top of your head, his voice low as he murmured, “Are you all right?”

You nodded into his chest, your cheeks burning as you clung to him like a lifeline.

As the music swelled around you, you felt his hand tighten slightly on your waist. When you finally peeked up at him, his gaze met yours, and there it was again—that look of unguarded adoration that made your knees weak.

It was, without a doubt, the best dance of your life.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ballroom, the Duke of the North was being spun around like a rag doll by Floyd, who was cackling loud enough to echo off the walls.

You caught sight of the saintess in the corner, her smile strained and her fingers clutching her goblet so tightly it looked like it might shatter.

All was well in the world.

The ballroom was buzzing with conversation, the glittering chandeliers casting light on a gathering of nobles too caught up in their own intrigues to notice the storm brewing in one corner. That is, until a sharp, shrill voice cut through the air.

“You think you can just ruin my family and get away with it?” It was the girl whose arrogance had gotten her father fired. Her finger pointed straight at you, her expression a mix of fury and desperation.

The ballroom stilled as the girl pointed her trembling finger at you, her voice shrill enough to shatter glass. "You think you can destroy my family and just walk away? You're nothing but a tyrant with too much power and zero empathy!"

Her father, standing nearby, was frantically gesturing for her to stop. “D-Dear, perhaps we should—”

“Shut it, Father! I’m handling this!” she snapped, tossing her poorly styled curls over her shoulder. She turned back to you, eyes blazing. “Everyone should know what kind of monster you are. Workplace harassment! That’s right—I said it!”

Before you could even process the absolute absurdity of the accusation, the Duke of the North stepped forward like some knight in an overwrought romance novel.

“You will not speak of her in such a way,” he declared, his voice booming with righteous indignation. “The duchess is a paragon of nobility and grace!”

The crowd collectively oohed, but before you could roll your eyes hard enough to dislocate something, the Saintess shot to her feet, looking utterly scandalized.

“This man,” she hissed, gesturing wildly at the Duke, “didn’t even fight for me, his divinely chosen match, but now he defends her? A woman who flaunts her defiance of heaven’s will? Blasphemy!”

“Blasphemy?” you muttered under your breath. “Blasphe-you, lady…”

Unfortunately, the Balding Prince chose this moment to stumble into the fray. “Uh… Are we…arguing?” He puffed up his chest, desperately trying to seem relevant. “As prince, I demand order!”

You took one look at him, with his shiny scalp gleaming under the chandeliers, and decided he wasn’t even worth the effort.

Meanwhile, Jade, ever the picture of composed menace, sidled up to your side. His eyes locked onto the Duke’s hand, which was still resting on yours. With a polite but firm gesture, Jade brushed the Duke’s hand away as though it carried the plague.

The Duke looked affronted. Jade just smiled. But it wasn’t a nice smile. It was the kind of smile that promised future inconvenience.

You, however, had officially hit your limit. You stepped forward, raising your voice over the din. “Enough!”

The room froze. All eyes turned to you as you launched into your tirade, starting with the Saintess.

“You!” You pointed directly at her, ignoring the way her cheeks flushed with outrage. “Do you honestly think the universe revolves around you just because you’ve got a shiny necklace and a tragic backstory? Newsflash: It doesn’t. The only divine will I’ve seen is everyone’s will to avoid your self-righteous sermons. Go back to your prayer circle and spare us your dramatics.”

Her mouth opened in shock, but you were already turning to the Balding Prince.

“And you! Stop sending letters to my estate asking for potions to grow hair or stretch your bones. I’m a duchess, not a miracle worker, and no amount of magic can make you interesting. Get a personality—or at least a hat.”

The prince turned beet red, his hands twitching as though debating whether to flee or argue. You didn’t care.

You swung your gaze to the girl whose father you’d fired. “And as for you, congratulations. You’ve just confirmed that stupidity really is hereditary. Your dad didn’t lose his job because of me. He lost it because he was stealing more money than the royal treasury had left after your little shopping sprees. You’re lucky I didn’t throw both of you in jail.”

Her father, now sweating through his cravat, looked like he might faint on the spot.

Finally, you turned to the Duke. “And you. I appreciate the effort, really. It’s sweet that you think I need defending. But I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need saving. And, oh—” You reached out, grabbing Jade by the arm. “I happen to have a fiancé whom I adore. So maybe put your chivalry elsewhere.”

Jade, for his part, looked smug as he allowed himself to be pulled along, his composure completely unshaken.

The ballroom fell into stunned silence as you swept toward the exit. Then—

Floyd’s laughter broke through like a cannon blast. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as tears streamed down his face. “Oh my god—that was amazing—! Balding prince—hat—”

Azul smirked, hiding his amusement behind a gloved hand. “Well, that was certainly… enlightening.”

You didn’t even look back as you pushed open the grand doors. “Idiots, the lot of them,” you muttered.

As you exited the ballroom, you couldn’t help but glance up at Jade. He looked unusually pleased, his lips curling into a faint, satisfied smile.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” he said smoothly, though the twinkle in his eye said otherwise. “I simply find your methods... inspiring.”

The two of you made it past the grand doors before the realization hit you like a carriage with no brakes.

You had just declared, in front of everyone, that you loved Jade.

And he knew it. Oh, did he know it.

He walked beside you, his usual calm and collected demeanor now infused with an insufferable smugness. His smile was the kind that could sell snake oil to a herpetologist.

“Darling,” he said, his voice laced with honeyed amusement, “you’re unusually quiet. Cat got your tongue? Or perhaps you’re shy after your… heartfelt proclamation?”

You refused to meet his gaze. “Shut up,” you muttered, staring resolutely at the carpeted hallway like it held the secrets to the universe.

“Now, now,” he crooned, leaning closer. “Why won’t you look at me? Surely you wouldn’t deny me the honor of basking in the gaze of my beloved?”

Your face burned hotter than the ballroom chandeliers. You covered it with your hands. “Leave me here,” you said dramatically. “Leave me here to rot in peace.”

Jade chuckled, and it was the kind of sound that sent shivers down your spine—warm, teasing, and entirely too pleased. “Why on earth would I do that?” he asked, his tone deceptively innocent. “Especially when my beloved looks so… endearing in their embarrassment.”

You peeked through your fingers, ready to deliver some biting retort, but the words died in your throat.

Jade’s expression had shifted. He wasn’t just amused anymore—he was smitten. The way his mismatched eyes softened as they looked at you, the faint smile that carried more affection than smugness, the subtle tilt of his head like you were the most fascinating thing in the world—it was all too much.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you grumbled, your voice weak.

“Like what?” he asked, feigning ignorance as he gently reached for your hands.

You tried to resist, but he was insistent, pulling them away from your face with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t just a teasing peck to rile you up—it was slow, deliberate, and completely disarming. You melted against him, any thoughts of resistance dissolving as you instinctively pulled him closer.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this book wasn’t the irredeemable mess you’d always thought it was.

After all, it had given you him.

The decision to expedite the wedding wasn’t exactly born of romance. It was born of the Duke’s increasingly deranged letters, the last of which included a poem so long and melodramatic it might as well have been a novel in verse.

Jade, to his credit, only raised a single brow at your muttered curses as you ripped the latest letter into confetti. “Darling,” he said mildly, “perhaps this is a sign to finalize our own arrangements before our dear Duke decides to recite his poetry at your doorstep.”

You had agreed, of course, which led to your current predicament: drowning in swatches, floral arrangements, and pamphlets for curtains—curtains, of all things.

“This one feels too garish,” you muttered, holding up a deep crimson drape. “But this one’s too boring,” you added, pointing at a pale beige option. You groaned and flopped back in your chair, glaring at the wedding planner. “Why is there no middle ground? What am I paying you for?”

The poor planner looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and never come out. Before you could unleash more frustration, Jade plucked the pamphlets from your hands with infuriating ease.

“Enough,” he said, his tone firm but fond. “You’ll give yourself gray hairs fretting over curtains. We can always elope, you know.”

You gaped at him. “Elope?”

His smile turned mischievous. “Yes. A quiet ceremony in the woods, perhaps, with only the birds as witnesses. Far from meddling Dukes and curtain debates.”

For a moment, you almost entertained the idea. But then you shook your head, laughing softly. “I suppose I’m being a bit dramatic.”

“A bit,” Jade echoed, though his teasing lilt softened as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “You don’t have to do this alone, my love. Delegate.”

The wedding planner, who had been cowering behind a stack of color charts, practically lit up. “Oh, yes! Delegate! Please, delegate!”

You sighed, leaning into Jade’s touch. “Fine. You’re in charge now.”

The planner looked as though he might fall to his knees and kiss Jade’s shoes in gratitude. Jade, ever the picture of elegance, merely chuckled.

“Excellent choice,” he said smoothly, guiding you away from the table of chaos. “Now, let’s find something far more enjoyable to argue about—like the wedding cake flavors.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easily Jade managed to turn your stress into something almost enjoyable. Perhaps rushing the wedding wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The room was an over-the-top vision of wealth: chandeliers the size of small planets, flowers flown in from who-knows-where, and a cake so tall you were half-convinced Floyd could climb it and look smug doing it. Every noble in the kingdom was here, decked out in silks and sequins, pretending they weren’t secretly gossiping about you and your eel fiancé.

You barely noticed. Jade was standing in front of you, looking so unfairly ethereal you wondered if the universe had been playing favorites. His mismatched eyes were locked on yours, and his smile was small but so genuine you almost forgot your carefully planned vows.

Then, of course, chaos. Because how could anything in your life go smoothly?

From the back of the ballroom came a loud, wet, obnoxious wail.

“Oh, for the love of God,” you muttered under your breath, and Jade’s lips quirked in amusement.

“I LOVED HER FIRST!” the Duke sobbed dramatically, his voice shaking with the intensity of his grief.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it permanently,” Floyd snapped, his voice cutting through the crowd like a knife.

And if that wasn’t enough, you could faintly hear Azul’s oily, persuasive tone somewhere off to the side. “Yes, Lord Evermore, just a tiny signature on this insignificant little contract. You’re not using your soul for much, anyway, are you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, biting back a laugh. This wasn’t just a wedding—it was your wedding. Of course it was going to be chaotic.

But when you looked up, there was Jade, his gaze steady and full of a quiet devotion that made the rest of the madness blur into the background. His vows were perfect, as expected, and when it came your turn, you stumbled over the words a little, because how were you supposed to focus when he was looking at you like that?

Then came the kiss.

Jade dipped you in one smooth motion, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that sent the room spinning. Applause erupted, and you swore you heard someone sniffling behind you.

“Is the Duke crying again?” you murmured against Jade’s lips.

“I believe Floyd threatened him,” Jade replied, far too amused.

“And Azul’s... oh no, is he signing contracts?”

Jade only smirked, kissing you again. “Should I be worried that you’re more interested in their antics than your new husband?”

“I’m not—wait, husband?” You blinked at him, the word sinking in, and for the first time in ages, you felt completely, blissfully happy.

As you stood there with your chaotic, ridiculous found family around you, you couldn’t help but smile. Sure, your life had taken a turn for the absurd, but if it brought you to this moment, maybe that cursed mushroom wasn’t so bad after all.

“Remind me to thank that mushroom,” you said with a grin.

Jade’s laughter was soft, warm, and entirely yours. “If it brought us together, I might build it a shrine.”

You laughed, pulling him closer. You’d faced chaos and conspiracies, chaos and hilarity, but in this moment, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Trash Novel Masterlist

All Masterlists

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader #jade x reader #jade leech #twst jade #jade leech x you #jade

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literaryvein-reblogs · 8 months ago

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words for when your characters get into a fight (pt. 4)

Pain

ache, anesthesia/anaesthesia, distress, harassment, hurt, pinch, strain, suffer, torture, wrong

Attack

aggression, assail, beat up, blast, blind-side, bomb, brutality, charge, come at, coup d’état, embroil, encroach, fire, foray, go for, infest, insurrection, invasion, lay into, mug, occupation, offensive, onslaught, overrun, pillage, pounce, raid, ravage, rush, sortie, subvert, waylay

To destroy

ablate, abolition, annul, batter, bomb, bring down, burst, butcher, clobber, come unglued, consumption, coup de grâce, crumple, cut down, decimate, deforestation, demolition, desecrate, desolate, devastate, dismantle, dispatch, do away with, do in, end, endanger, eradicate, erosion, execute, expunge, exterminate, extinguish, finish, genocide, hara-kiri, homicide, jeopardize, kill, knock off, liquidate, mangle, massacre, murder, obliterate, paralyze, pillage, poison, prostrate, pulverize, put away, put out, quench, raze, ruin, sack, shiver, slaughter, smash, stamp out, subdue, suppress, undo, vandalism, violation, wipe out, wreck

To injure

abuse, ail, batter, beat, bruise, cost, crush, debilitate, deface, deform, desecrate, devastate, disagree, disfigure, expose, fragment, gripe, handicap, hurt, incapacitate, jeopardize, lacerate, maim, mar, mistreat, mutilate, outrage, paralyze, poison, pummel, repay, ruin, sabotage, scar, shatter, shoot, smart, snap, spoil, stress, taint, torture, turn, violate, vitiate, wrong

To make dirty

adulterate, clutter, mess up, smudge, stain, tarnish

To make hot or cold

air, chill, freeze, heat, melt, numb, refrigerate, shrivel, warm

To make wet

absorb, dampen, dip, drench, drool, dunk, extinguish, marinate, oil, permeate, saturate, souse, splash, spray, squirt, submerge

Military action

barrage, blow up, conflict, coup d’état, deploy, deposition, dethrone, disarm, draft, engage, enlist, explosion, incursion, induction, invade, maneuver, occupation, offensive, overthrow, rebellion, revolt, salute, station, volley, warfare

Bad person

accessory, accurser, adversary, aggressor, alarmist, antagonist, ass, assassin, authoritarian, barbarian, bigmouth, bottom feeder, bum, burglar, cad, captive, charlatan, clod, cold fish, conspirator, criminal, crook, culprit, deadbeat, delinquent, demon, derelict, desperado, devil, dirty old man, dolt, do-nothing, dope, dregs, drone, dumbbell, dunce, enemy, espionage, exile, failure, fall guy, femme fatale, fighter, firebrand, fool, fugitive, gangster, glutton, good-for-nothing, gossip, grump, hellion, hobo, hot dog, hypocrite, imbecile, impostor, incubus, insurgent, intruder, Judas, killer, klutz, know-it-all, lawbreaker, lemon, loafer, loser, lummox, mad person, maniac, menace, misanthrope, miser, mole, mountebank, naysayer, ne’ er-do-well, nuisance, nut, ogre, organized crime, parasite, pawn, pessimist, pill, placebo, prodigal, prostitute, psychopath, quack, rascal, renegade, rogue, ruffian, sap, scamp, schlemiel, Scrooge, shirked, shyster, simpleton, skinflint, sleazebag, sneak, sourpuss, spy, swindler, tattletale/tattler, thug, tool, traitor, troll, truant, tyrant, vandal, wanton, whipping boy, wimp, witch

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary Writing Notes: Fight Scenes ⚜ Word Lists: Fight ⚜ Pain

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 1 year ago

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How To Plan A Book Series: Ultimate Guide

Writing a book series can be an incredibly rewarding experience for authors, but it also requires careful planning and execution. A well-crafted book series can captivate readers, build a loyal fan base, and provide a steady stream of income for writers. However, planning a successful book series is no easy feat.

It demands a deep understanding of world-building, character development, and plot progression. In this ultimate guide, I'll help you explore the essential steps to help you plan a compelling and cohesive book series that will keep your readers hooked from start to finish.

Develop a Compelling Premise The foundation of any successful book series is a strong premise. Your premise should be unique, engaging, and have the potential to sustain multiple books. Consider exploring a complex world, a captivating concept, or a character with a rich backstory that can evolve over the course of several books. Ask yourself: What makes your premise stand out? What will keep readers invested in the story for multiple installments?

Create a Detailed Outline Before you dive into writing, it's crucial to create a detailed outline for your entire book series. This outline should include the overarching plot, major story arcs, character development, and key events for each book. Having a solid outline will help you maintain consistency, avoid plot holes, and ensure that each book contributes to the overall narrative. Don't be afraid to make adjustments as you write, but having a roadmap will keep you on track.

World-Building: Crafting a Vivid and Consistent Universe One of the hallmarks of a successful book series is a richly developed and immersive world. Whether you're creating a fantasy realm, a futuristic society, or a contemporary setting, pay close attention to world-building. Establish the rules, customs, histories, and geography of your fictional world. Consistency is key, so ensure that the details align across all books in the series. Consider creating a "bible" or a comprehensive guide that outlines the intricacies of your world, making it easier to maintain continuity.

Develop Compelling Characters Great characters are the heart and soul of any book series. Your protagonists, antagonists, and supporting characters should be well-rounded, multi-dimensional, and undergo significant growth and transformation throughout the series. Craft backstories, motivations, flaws, and strengths for each character, and ensure that their actions and decisions drive the plot forward. Remember, character development is an ongoing process, so be prepared to explore new facets of your characters as the series progresses.

Establish Recurring Themes and Motifs Themes and motifs are powerful tools that can add depth and resonance to your book series. Identify the central themes you want to explore, such as love, redemption, power, or identity. Weave these themes throughout the series, allowing them to evolve and deepen with each installment. Motifs, like recurring symbols or imagery, can also create a sense of cohesion and add layers of meaning to your narrative.

Plan for Cliffhangers and Resolutions One of the key strategies for keeping readers engaged in a book series is the strategic use of cliffhangers and resolutions. Cliffhangers create anticipation and leave readers craving for the next installment. However, be cautious not to overuse this technique, as it can become frustrating for readers. Balance cliffhangers with satisfying resolutions that tie up loose ends and provide a sense of closure, while still leaving room for the story to continue.

Consider Pacing and Narrative Structure Pacing and narrative structure are crucial elements to consider when planning a book series. Each book should have its own narrative arc, with a beginning, middle, and end, while also contributing to the overall story progression. Vary the pacing between books to maintain reader interest, alternating between action-packed and slower, more introspective sections. Experiment with different narrative structures, such as multiple perspectives, non-linear timelines, or frame narratives, to keep the series fresh and engaging.

Manage Continuity and Consistency As your book series grows, maintaining continuity and consistency becomes increasingly important. Keep detailed records of character descriptions, plot points, world-building elements, and timelines. Regularly refer back to these notes to ensure that you're not introducing contradictions or inconsistencies. Consider creating a series bible or a wiki to help you keep track of all the moving parts.

Plan for Character Growth and Evolution In a book series, characters should undergo significant growth and evolution. Plan for character arcs that span multiple books, allowing your protagonists and supporting characters to face challenges, make difficult choices, and emerge as changed individuals. This character development will not only add depth to your narrative but also keep readers invested in the journey of your characters.

Anticipate and Address Potential Plot Holes As your book series expands, the potential for plot holes and inconsistencies increases. Be vigilant in identifying and addressing these issues during the planning stage. Regularly review your outline and notes, looking for any logical gaps or contradictions. Enlist the help of beta readers or critique partners to provide fresh perspectives and catch any potential plot holes you may have missed.

Consider the Overarching Story Arc While each book in your series should have its own narrative arc, it's essential to plan for an overarching story arc that spans the entire series. This overarching arc should tie together the individual books, building towards a climactic conclusion that resolves the central conflict or mystery. Ensure that each book contributes to this larger narrative, advancing the plot and raising the stakes for the characters.

Plan for Marketing and Promotion Finally, as you plan your book series, don't overlook the importance of marketing and promotion. Develop a strategy for building buzz and engaging with your audience throughout the release of each book. Leverage social media, author events, book tours, and other promotional opportunities to keep your readers excited and invested in your series.

Remember, writing a book series is a marathon, not a sprint, so be prepared to invest time, effort, and dedication into crafting a truly remarkable literary journey. Hope this helped!

Happy Writing - Rin T.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

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unboundprompts · 3 months ago

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Hey unbound!! I was wondering, have you written anything for "how to write Enemies to Lovers"? I LOVE the trope but have a hard time ever making it feel realistic to me

How to Write Enemies to Lovers

1. Establish a Real, Believable Conflict

The characters shouldn’t hate each other just because. Make sure their "enemy" status is rooted in something meaningful:

Clashing goals or values

A betrayal or misunderstanding

Socioeconomic, cultural, or professional rivalry

One perceives the other as a threat

Avoid making one character just "mean" for no reason, that risks turning the story into bullying-turned-romance.

2. Make Them Equals

Both characters should challenge each other, not dominate or belittle. Whether in intellect, skill, or influence, their push-and-pull dynamic should feel balanced. This keeps the conflict engaging and the chemistry sharp.

If one character starts with more power (social, political, magical, etc.), show the balance shift or even out over time. Maybe the more powerful one learns humility. Maybe the underdog gains confidence or leverage. This keeps the romance from feeling one-sided or unbalanced.

3. Gradually Shift the Tone

Let the hatred evolve in stages: Irritation → Respect → Curiosity → Affection → Love

Sprinkle moments of:

Vulnerability (they see a new side of the other)

Unexpected teamwork (they’re forced to rely on each other)

Banter that turns from biting to flirtatious

4. Use Intimacy in Small Doses

Tension thrives in proximity. Make them interact often, maybe unwillingly at first. Body language, awkward silences, or a brush of the hand can say a lot when feelings are complicated. Don’t rush the romance. The longer it simmers, the more satisfying the payoff.

5. Force Them to Re-Evaluate

Something should cause a shift in perspective, maybe the "enemy" does something selfless or shows surprising depth. They realize their initial judgment was wrong or incomplete. Internal conflict is key here. Let them resist falling in love before they accept it.

6. Let Them See Each Other at Their Worst... and Best

It’s easy to love someone when they’re charming. But realistic enemies-to-lovers arcs involve characters witnessing each other’s low points (failures, flaws, vulnerability, etc.) This builds empathy, and that’s what turns conflict into connection.

7. Acknowledge the Past

Don’t sweep their antagonistic history under the rug. Have them talk about it. A good resolution includes:

An apology or mutual understanding

Growth from both sides

Acknowledgement that love doesn’t erase the past, but it builds on top of it

8. Give Them a Bond That Justifies the Shift

Love isn’t just "we stopped fighting." It’s "we learned from our differences." Let them find something shared:

A common goal

A mutual vulnerability

A deep belief or value

Even just a sense of humor that breaks the tension

9. Keep Their Voice Consistent Through the Shift

As they fall for each other, don’t make them suddenly sappy or soft-spoken unless it’s in character or they’re resisting it. Keep their sarcasm, bluntness, or bite, but redirect it. Now, it’s flirtier. More protective. Slightly gentler.

10. Make Their Love Transform Them, But Not Fix Them

They shouldn’t change their core beliefs for the other, but because of the experience the other provides. They challenge each other’s worldviews, make each other question things. The love should feel like a consequence of character growth, not the cause of it.

11. Your Readers Should Ship It Before the Characters Do

Plant the emotional groundwork early, even if the characters are being stubborn. Your readers should start rooting for them mid-argument, mid-banter, mid-moment-of-tension.

#writing prompts #creative writing #writeblr #ask box prompts #how to write #enemies to lovers prompts #enemies to lovers #writing advice #writing help #writing resources #writing tips #on writing #writing inspo

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novlr · 1 year ago

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how to describe despair in writing

Despair is a visceral and crushing emotion—one that echoes through the pages of a story, gripping readers with its raw intensity. It is more than just a feeling; it’s an abyss that characters fall into, a shadow that colours their every action and decision with hues of hopelessness and loss.

Behaviour

Neglecting personal care or obligations.

A lack of motivation or interest in activities they once enjoyed.

Withdrawing from social situations or avoiding company.

Engaging in self-destructive actions or habits.

Consistent signs of fatigue or lethargy.

Frequent emotional outbursts or mood swings.

An inability to concentrate or focus on tasks.

Indecisive, even on trivial matters.

Focusing on negative thoughts.

Displaying a loss of hope or a sense of defeat.

Interactions

Avoiding physical or eye contact with others.

Short-tempered and easily irritated.tempered

Speaking in monosyllables or giving terse responses.

A sense of indifference or apathy toward others’ concerns.

Struggling to express themselves or to articulate their feelings.

Misinterpreting others’ intentions or words negatively.

Isolating themselves despite offers of help or companionship.

Being unresponsive to attempts at humour or light-heartedness.

Blaming others or external circumstances for their despair.

Seeking out enablers or situations that validate their mindset.

Body language

Slumped shoulders or a consistently bowed head.

Averted gaze or blank stares into the distance.

Fidgeting, such as wringing hands or picking at skin.

Slow, dragging movements or a lack of coordination.

Heavy sighing or audible breaths.

Neglecting personal space or boundaries.

Minimal gestures or lifeless posture.

Clenched fists or jaw during moments of heightened emotion.

Visible trembling or shaking due to emotional strain.

A general lack of energy or life in physical presence.

Attitude

Pessimism towards the future.

Cynicism about intentions, whether their own or others’.

Resignation, believing that effort will not change their situation.

Indifference to opportunities or choices presented to them.

A sense of helplessness or powerlessness in all scenarios.

Self-deprecation and a tendency to dismiss their own value.

An overwhelming sense of guilt or responsibility for past events.

A fixation on the negative aspects of every situation.

An inability to accept comfort or positive feedback.

Believing they are a burden to others.

Positive Story Outcomes

An epiphany or realisation that sparks a desire for change.

A gesture of kindness from another character that provides a glimmer of hope.

The discovery of an inner strength or previously untapped resource.

A serendipitous event that offers a new perspective or opportunity.

The formation of a supportive relationship or friendship.

Minor victories or achievements that build self-confidence.

Learning a valuable lesson through hardship.

Developing empathy for others going through similar experiences.

Finding purpose in aiding others, easing their own despair.

An eventual embrace of vulnerability, leading to healing and growth.

Negative Story Outcomes

A surrender with long-lasting consequences.

The breakdown of important relationships.

A significant loss incurred because of inaction or apathy.

Descent into a more self-destructive or reckless lifestyle.

The solidification of a character’s role as an antagonist.

A missed opportunity for redemption or improvement.

A worsening of the character’s situation, potentially affecting others.

The development of a trait or flaw that hinders future happiness or success.

A downfall that provides a cautionary tale within the narrative.

A tragic ending that leaves a profound impact on the reader and other characters.

Helpful Vocabulary

Desolate

Forlorn

Wretched

Crestfallen

Anguished

Dolorous

Bereft

Hollow

Numb

Morose

Sullen

Bleak

Languish

Melancholy

Hopeless

Despondent

Dejected

Heartbroken

Miserable

Pained

Woeful

Eclipsed

Defeated

Overwhelmed

Grief-stricken

Tormented

Disconsolate

Listless

Oppressed

Despairing

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vampemoqueen · 3 months ago

Text

Amazing banner by @crownedinmarigolds! Introducing a collaborative event between writers and artists, the OC Meet Cute event! Created by @porcelainseashore, @crownedinmarigolds, and @vampemoqueen.

Apply as a writer, artist, or either to be placed in a writer-artist pair! After we set you up with your match, connect with them privately to discuss how a meet cute scenario with your OCs would happen, then share the results with a joint writing and art piece!

HOW TO PARTICIPATE

Submit a form to participate as a writer, artist, or either and specify the type of content and match you would be comfortable with. FOR SAFETY REASONS, THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY EVENT. No minors, sorry! Link to the form here: WoD OC Meet Cute Form Once we receive the forms, you will receive an email with your role and your match's contact info to coordinate your pieces.

Coordinate with them privately through any method of choice (we recommend Discord or Tumblr's messaging system) to create a meet cute scenario between two OCs.

OCs can come from any splat or version from the World of Darkness, but make sure to discuss them with your partner to make sure you’re both aligned on the storyline and expectations.

We recommend doing a Session 0 to get a feel for both characters and what you're comfortable with, but this is optional and not required.

Once each of you have a scenario you're both happy with, create a matching writing and art piece to show how it went down!

Submit your joint pieces via Tumblr using the tag #wodmeetcute

At the end of the event, all pieces will be linked in a Tumblr masterpost showcasing everyone’s work!

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

Writing pieces should be at least 500 words. There is no limit after.

Art pieces can be in any visual medium.

No AI generation for either writing or art.

No hate speech (i.e slurs) or hate groups (i.e Nazis) allowed.

DEADLINES

Form closes April 9th.

Pairs introduced by April 13th.

Deadline for submission May 31st.

FRIENDLY REMINDERS

Meet Cutes can be one-off encounters, friendly, antagonistic, or even romantic! They do not have to be “cute” in the traditional sense. Make an encounter that makes the most engaging story for your pair.

Please be mindful of lines and veils. We will do our best to pair people who are looking to avoid certain kinds of content, but ultimately it’s up to you and your partner to set boundaries.

Please communicate with your partner regularly! We will not supervise or facilitate any pairings once the matches have been made. If communication isn’t maintained or breaks down, you may contact us to potentially get a new partner, though it’s not guaranteed.

Feel free to DM or tag us if you have any questions. You can also find us and other artists and writers on the Gallery Noir Discord server!

Good luck and have fun!

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #world of darkness #tumblr of darkness #wodmeetcute

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letmyrighthandbeforgotten · 29 days ago

Text

My comprehensive Mel Medarda analysis.

I think it’s easy to separate people who talk about Mel into three groups: people who ship jayvik and hate Mel, people who ship jayvik and “like” Mel in a way that simplifies her almost past recognition, and people who hate jayvik and love Mel (sometimes while simplifying her). And I am someone who loves jayvik and Mel, but I definitely do not ship Jay/Mel, or Jay/Mel/Vik. And I think there’s a dearth of good Mel meta.

I have three main points: 1) All of the main cast are an antagonist to another member of that same cast. If you don't acknowledge that, then you're not really engaging with the show, you're writing an au in your head. Which you can do! I love au's where all the characters are friends. But that's not the show. 2) Mel IS a corrupt politician who uses manipulation as a tactic; she is also an empath and someone who cares deeply. I do not think these are unrelated facets of her character, but actually deeply related to each other, integral to who she is, and directly resulting from how she was raised. 3) Mel and Jayce are not a good couple, and that makes both of them more interesting.

A/N: And before anyone tries to play identity politics with me, I am a queer, utterly broke woman of color! Mel and Viktor are both dear to me! They are not in competition for my affection!

Mel the Politician:

I think of Mel as someone who WANTS to be good but was never taught how, so her initial attempts at goodness fail. Manipulation seems to her a good middle ground from the violence she was raised in. She does not see it as a different, but still horrific type of violence because she was immersed in so much overt violence growing up.

Mel is introduced in episode 2, which focuses more evenly on the Piltover cast whereas episode 1 focused entirely on establishing the Zaunite characters with Piltover as a villain. Mel stands in direct contrast to them. And make no mistake — from Zaun's perspective, Mel IS an antagonist. Episode 1 shows us enforcers murdering Zaunites on the bridge and Vi openly saying that no one in Piltover is going hungry, in direct contrast to the undercity. With that context, let's look at Mel's introduction.

Mel is introduced to us as the epitome of the Piltover elite. In her opening scene, she stands in a huge room, presumably an office or similar, having a private meeting with a merchant there to sell her something. She almost entirely ignores the merchant in favor of speaking to her assistant Elora, who outright states Mel is the richest woman in Piltover. Mel immediately bemoans the fact that she is still the poorest Medarda. Remember: this scene does not exist in a vacuum. Mel is standing in a room larger than the one shared by Vander’s 4 children, and still complaining that she doesn’t have enough. I think that we the audience are meant to go "is she for real right now?" The sun shines on Mel, and the undercity is covered in smog.

In retrospect, this scene also introduces Mel's conflict with her family and identity as a Medarda. But again, in retrospect. We don't have that context at the moment. Mel does not exist independently of the Zaunite characters, though she might think she does at first; they are all tightly woven together. Mel is not introduced as cruel — and I don’t think she is cruel on a personal level — but she is introduced as the exact type of person who directly benefits from the oppression of the undercity. This is not by accident. Mel is that person. And she does not need to be intentionally cruel for her actions to have cruel effects.

Some people want to hate the council without acknowledging that Mel is one of them. That is willful ignorance and erasure.

(also look how stupid they all look. why are they posing. Mel is the only one who kind of looks cool, the rest are just funny.)

Mel is not just a part of the council, she is their de-facto leader after Heimerdinger (gonna expand on this later). She is the one who first addresses Marcus and Grayson directly in this scene. The kind of violence Mel and the council inflict is the kind of silent violence oppressed communities experience every day: Sending enforcers to do their dirty work. Restricting commerce, and therefore inflicting poverty on an already impoverished community. Raiding and searching everyone in Zaun, regardless of if you have any reason to think they’re connected to what actually happened. While characters like Jinx, Vi, Sevika, and Silco are directly, physically violent, this is the kind of insidious violence that is accepted as the norm. To draw a comparison from our world, why does the world care when the head of a health insurance company is murdered, but not when that company denies healthcare and lets people die every day? When our healthcare system sends people into debt for daring to live? Why do we care when violence is done with a gun, but not a pen? They are wealthy, they have power, therefore it is accepted that they have the right to benefit from other’s suffering.

This is obviously an incomplete view of Mel … but it’s not inaccurate. Anyone from Zaun in universe would have reason to hate her.

I would argue that this is the Mel we see from episodes 1-7. Someone who is beautiful, charming, sounds nice enough, but ultimately self-interested and who benefits from the suffering of others without a thought.

But then episode 8 feeds us. Let's talk about her flashback scene.

Mel’s Relationship to Power and Goodness:

This scene haunts me. I love this whole scene so much. This is where we are introduced to Ambessa. And oh, what an impression it is.

Suddenly, a lot about Mel clicks into place. We see past her mask of perfection and realize she is still a child with a mother who is violent and loves her dearly. Who says her violence is for her family. Done in Mel’s name, no matter how much she does not want it.

They stand in a destroyed throne room that belonged to someone Ambessa conquered. Ambessa characterizes herself as a wolf and Mel as a fox. We immediately know what Ambessa was like and how Mel was raised. Ambessa is brutal and merciless; Mel uses guile and trickery. Ambessa crushed the throne; Mel talks about what sort of puppet leader they should install to control. But to her mother, it is not enough for Mel to be a good politician. She needs to be without mercy. Brutal. This is the kind of violence Mel understands, the kind she was raised in. And it is what she abhors.

Then Ambessa asks Mel what they should do with this girl. A living symbol of a power that Ambessa has conquered, a member of the old regime, and as young as Mel herself. Ambessa plans to kill her; that much is clear. But what Mel suggests is also cruel. Stripped of her lands and titles, banished from her home, her family and people dead. That's horrible! That's a horrible way to live!

And Ambessa doesn’t even let her have that. No wonder Mel doesn’t recognize her own actions as cruelty when this was the alternative she was shown. She does not know kindness. She only knows violence or political games. She was taught to seize power and hold onto it. There is no other option. Not that she knows.

(This girl’s name is Mion by the way. Look at how she looks down and away from Ambessa, versus how she looks at Mel with hope 🥺) (And if I say that this is the character I ship with Mel. That I have a whole canon divergent au in my head where she lived and grew up alongside Mel, developing a deeply unhealthy, uneven, and codependent but ultimately loving relationship. What then.)

I love that this moment haunts her. It's not just a flashback for the audience, Mel is actively having a nightmare about it years later. She paints the girl's bloodied necklace. She's one of the forms LeBlanc takes to speak to her, and it's her necklace that Mel uses as a power conduit in her final confrontation with Ambessa. She carries this moment with her for over a decade. It’s when she loses her mother and when Ambessa loses her daughter. This is Mel’s loss of innocence.

With this in mind, it’s suddenly clear why Mel is the way she is as an adult. The council casts Jinx and Silco as violent, but utterly fails to comprehend that violence is not inherent to them. It is directly because of Piltover's treatment of them. Neither Jinx nor Silco start out as cruel people. They were created, not born. But while other members of the council are either willfully ignorant (Heimerdinger) or casually cruel because they genuinely don’t view the Zaunites as actual people, Mel seems to not realize her own cruelty. She does not mean to be cruel. I don’t think she wants to be. I think that she believes this is genuinely the best option that still lets her hold power. And power is everything. Power is how you make sure no one hurts you the way Ambessa has hurt others. But foxes and wolves are both predators, no matter how they kill you.

So what changes?

I’ve only accelerated a process that you started. Mel says she wanted to protect the city. I believe her. She believes herself. But what parts of the city? Certainly not the undercity, who have no access to Hextech despite Jayce and Viktor’s own desires. Not the people for whom violence, disease, and starvation are just a part of life. Mel has tried to be good; Mel has failed. Now her own mother bluntly tells her that Mel is the one who started this; Ambessa only intends to finish it.

This is the scene where Ambessa tells Mel why she was sent away: she weakened her. Ambessa couldn’t make the necessary decisions (note how she says it; necessary decisions, not hard ones) and look Mel in the eye. Everything Ambessa did was out of love …

And look what she did.

I believe that this scene with Ambessa is Mel’s “my god, what have I done” moment. Maybe she had good intentions; so did her mother, in her own way. Intention hardly matters when these are the results. It is after this moment that Mel votes for Zaun’s independence. That she works with Lest. Mel finally starts to see the harm she has done, and she decides that she must undo it. Mel has failed … but she will keep trying until she gets it right.

Mel’s relationship with Jayce (and Viktor):

This is the controversial part of my analysis. But what can you do?

Here’s the thing: I think that most of Mel and Jayce’s interactions are knee-deep at best. They like each other on the surface, but they do not deeply understand each other. And once they do, they realize that they do not match. They are not meant to be.

To me, Mel and Jayce are fundamentally different. That’s fine. You want characters to be different, you want that push and pull. But Mel is a politician, a power player. The person who looks at the pieces on the board and tries to maximize her own influence. (And to be clear: Mel is allowed to want power. That is a good and fine trait for a character to have. It creates conflict for her character and we see her use that power for good in season 2 before she is unceremoniously yanked off screen.) Jayce is an inventor. A dreamer. He wants to change the world. Not for his own sake, not for power, but because he just wants to make things better for everyone. Oh, he also wants recognition. Who wouldn’t? But he wants it to come as a result of the good he does. And he has an obsession with magic, but because that magic saves him.

Let’s look at the scene where Jayce becomes a councilor.

He’s stressed, he’s breathing heavily, he’s looking around like he desperately wants someone to put a stop to this. The camera spins, like Jayce is getting dizzy. His expression … he looks hunted. Viktor is the only one who notices his distress, but is powerless to stop it. Mel might not be a wolf yet, but she is a powerhouse, steamrolling over everyone else. After all, she knows what’s best, right? OBVIOUSLY Jayce wants this life, he just doesn’t know it yet. This is as close to goodness as she knows, and Jayce wants to do good, right? Doesn’t everyone want that kind of power? (Mel, you break my heart)

But Mel cannot understand Jayce at this point because she doesn’t fully understand herself (see everything with Ambessa). It's only after the two are separately isolated and forced to self-reflect that they actually understand each other … and it is as their whole selves that they realize they do not fit together. Season 1 Jayce/Mel could work BECAUSE they are not yet who they are meant to be, instead bowing to the expectations of others and themselves. The golden children of Piltover, they look good together, they are expected to be together … but they are not meant to be.

I think Mel IS subtly manipulative of Jayce in the same way she is for everyone else on the council and in high society. But Jayce rarely gives her any pushback, and she looks genuinely shocked when he does (ex. after he talks to Ambessa in the bathhouse and Jayce decides direct confrontation is the next move). I think Jayce trusted that Mel was the best at what she did — which she is — but he failed to consider that he did not want to be the same as her. Like Viktor says, "In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good." Mel could make him great, but she could not make him good. Jayce is not meant to be a leader and is poorly cast in that role. Mel could never be a mere supporter of the world, she belongs as a power player. They are perpendicular lines — intersecting but moving in different directions.

(Side note: It's so funny to me that Mel calls Jayce the de-facto head of the council when that could not more obviously be her! And she knows it! She is the one who changes Hoskel's votes with a single glance. She is the one who decides to add Jayce to the council and convinces everyone else. Jayce proposes kicking Heimerdinger out, but I do not think all of the council would have agreed if Mel was not the first to voice her support. Probably none of them would have. If the council actually has a leader after Heimerdinger (who's been here 200 years), it IS Mel. But Jayce makes a useful figurehead for Mel to work more subtly.)

Jayce and Mel like each other well enough. At least, they like the versions of each other that they see. But Mel is so used to wearing a mask that she doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s seeing. She is so used to other people’s masks that she can’t see Jayce’s heart even as it’s plain on his sleeve. And being a councilor brings out the absolute worst in Jayce. If anything he needs to become a councilor so that he can realize the extent of his own prejudice and change. But it is not who he wants to be, nor who he should be. I think that Jayce, after everything he sees and does and goes through, could be happy living in a cabin by a stream with his love and 4 kids. Mel could never be satisfied by that kind of life.

While we're here, let's talk about her and Viktor. (Yes I am a jayvik shipper but this is about Mel.) Even with no context, the two are practically designed to contrast each other. Mel is from Noxus, Viktor is from Zaun (interestingly, both are cultures with a lot of violence, but Noxus is a conqueror, Zaun the oppressed). Mel is rich, Viktor is poor. Mel is a politician, Viktor is an inventor. Mel is a black woman, Viktor is a white man. Mel is able bodied, Viktor is disabled. Mel is born with magic, Viktor is an inventor of artificial magic. They're both outsiders to Piltover, but Mel is accepted and Viktor is not. They stand in direct contrast to each other through the show and represent two extremes Jayce must choose between. Mel is power and politics; Viktor is science and idealism. Both are valid. Both are interesting. But only one aligns with Jayce.

Two similarities between them that aren’t brought up often (if at all): They both have childhood flashbacks where an adult parent figure brutally harms an innocent they identify with in front of them (Singed to Rio, and Ambessa to Mion). They both see their bodies as things that betray them — Viktor through his disability and later corruption by the Hexcore, Mel by the magic blood that runs through her veins. These are both complex, emotional, and deeply interesting characters and I get why Jayce wants them both. This is the bisexual representation we need.

Let’s take this scene as a microcosm of their season 1 relationship. Viktor is putting a lot on the line. He is helping Jayce break into Heimerdinger’s lab to illegally use equipment that has been confiscated from him after a building blew up. Viktor stands to lose everything if helping Jayce does not work out; his position as Heimerdinger’s assistant, the scraps of power he’s managed to claw out of Piltover. He stands to gain a lot if it works out, granted. He says that he doesn’t want to be an assistant forever. But he believes Jayce is worth the risk. He understands hextech, understands the science and magic behind it. Jayce and Viktor share a vision.

Mel stands to lose nothing. Even visually, Jayce and Viktor are in this together. Mel stands alone. She is in this as long as she stands to benefit. Jayce and Viktor are in the sky together; Mel is firmly planted on the ground.

Okay, typing it out like that seems harsh, but it’s only to contrast the characters and their relationship with Jayce. Mel doesn’t NEED to do anything for Jayce at this point. She does not know him! He is just some guy! She also does not have the same understanding of hextech that Viktor does; that is not her area of expertise. She is very good at people and politics; he is very good at science and invention. She’s kind of just hoping Jayce pulls through. But it shows how Viktor and Jayce immediately have a deep and connected relationship, while Mel and Jayce’s early relationship is focused on being mutually beneficial.

However, even after the timeskip, Mel wants the golden boy; she and Elora say as much. But that person isn’t real. And Jayce is not the man on the poster. They seem to barely know each other better than they did in episode 3.

I don’t think that Jayce and Mel not matching is some huge moral failing on either of them, by the way. Mel does not need to be better for Jayce. Jayce does not have to change for her. Jayce and Mel’s relationship is one of misunderstanding. They just don’t quite fit, and that makes both them and the world more interesting.

I also can't get behind mel/jay/vik as a ship. Mel and Viktor knew each other for 6-7 years and they still don’t like each other. I think Viktor just on principle would hate any politician, never mind one actively perpetuating the oppression of his people. I get it because I love them both too, but sometimes the characters we like don't like each other! They're not even toxic in a fun way they just don't vibe with each other 😭 I'm chill with the mel/jay/vik enjoyers, but I could never be one myself. (someone said they ship Jayce with Mel and Viktor in the way of divorced parents splitting custody; I can support that)

What I think could have been done better:

This is to say that Mel's season 2 arc should have focused on her political development, leaving magic for a season 3 (that still had political elements). (Also in my ideal season 2 ending Piltover just gets fucking BRUTALIZED, forcing them down to the level of the Zaunites, struggling for survival instead of victory. But they were not gonna write that, lol) I think a season 2 ending where Mel is kidnapped by the Black Rose BECAUSE she's going too far off-course from where they want her would be good.

Talking about season 2 is ... difficult. Because I do like it. I enjoy watching, the writers and voice actors and artists are all performing beautifully. But I think the show they wanted NEEDED a third season, and only having 2 meant they had to severely compress everyone’s character development. It’s like someone listed all the plot points they wanted, then crossed out everything they could to make it fit. It broadly makes sense, but you can tell a lot is missing. Mel, Jayce, Ekko, and Viktor are all yanked off-screen for long periods of time. A lot is implied, and a lot isn't as deep as you want it to be. Season 1 is tightly written, season 2 is loose. It comes together as well as it can while keeping the original endpoint for the characters rather than changing them to fit in a single season.

But I am very happy that Mel’s story is not over.

Conclusion:

Anyway, I want Mel to have a lesbian enemies to lovers story arc in the Noxus show. I want her to meet a power player character who can keep up with her. Similarly to how I see Jayce and Viktor as the same character type (inventors) who are different in every other way and THAT'S why they work, I want her to meet someone who is her equal and peer but still so different from her. I want that mutual fascination, that clash and collide, and for her to fall head over heels. I want her and this new character to manipulate each other, hurt each other, and understand each other like no one else can (I like when gay people are toxic in a cool and interesting way). That is my wishlist.

So when I make funny ha ha posts about Mel, I am NOT doing that as someone who wants her out of the way of jayvik, nor as someone who thinks she did nothing wrong!!!! I am a Mel understander and I will die one!!!

#you might not like or agree with my opinions but don't you EVER say I don't love mel or think about her as an in-depth character #I just spent 4000 words and several hours writing about her #i'm currently writing a jayvik fic #i am trying to write an original novel!!!#i had things to spend that time on!#but i love her and she is worth it!#mel medarda #mel meta #mel medarda meta #anti jaymel #again NOT in a hater way #but in a 'here's why i think that doesn't really work in canon as an end-all be-all ship' way #arcane #arcane meta #my posts #lady mion #undescribed #i had to put pictures into collages to fit them all #ambessa medarda

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orlopsexdungeon · 1 month ago

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nb hickey hc... tell me more

scream ok well thanks for asking. I really love putting a nonbinary/genderqueer spin on Hickey, most often in a specifically bigender way, for a bunch of reasons some of which are the ways doing that expands on some of the meta stuff going on with him as character

The Terror is doing some intentionally queer things with gender: male characters do things usually reserved for female characters, and occasionally the writing borrows from generally female archetypes to construct them. As I've seen a lot of people observe, this is most obvious with Hickey. An antagonist whose main method of operation is manipulation through charm and flattery - either with flirtatious undertones or overt flirtation, who is significantly younger then the lead and generally disempowered, whose increasing villainy is motivated in part by experiencing some kind of sexual or sexualized brutalization - usually this character would be a (quite misogynistically written) woman. Of course, there's also quite a lot of characterization important manhood to Hickey - he deeply resents his position and wants to be traditionally powerful, a leader of men; he specifically wants to be Captain Crozier. There's also his relationship to Gibson, in which he is firmly taking on the role of the man to Gibson's woman. We get a little bit of this early on when they have a spat over Gibson denying his desires and agency in their relationship, when Hickey mockingly refers to Gibson as his wife. While this is pretty clearly Hickey being catty I do think he's right that Gibson desires to take on (and does take on) a feminine role, which being penetrated is a part of but not the full extent. Look at the only scene we get to see them being affectionate and romantic in - Hickey slips a ring onto Gibson's finger while Gibson blushes and smiles, invoking both engagement and a bride and groom at an alter. There's real tragedy in this scene, of two people who must conduct their entire relationship in upmost secret under fear of torture playing out public displays of devotion they'll never get to actually indulge in, but also an interesting bit of playing roles. I do think that, despite the practical function of convincing Gibson to spy for him, Hickey is also operating from a place of genuine affection. Even so, the way he does this is not totally unlike the way he interacts with those he lacks affection for and purely wants something from; he takes on a role he knows will appeal to Gibson. Which brings me to the role Hickey takes on in that context, which is implicitly seductive and, given his status, motivations, and where he is, I'd say is also implicitly feminine. Like I've said, Hickey's main (or at least first) approach to getting what he wants out of a man, which he attempts often, is generally to try to charm him. This carries a flirtatious tone, and is generally directed at a man with power over him. After all, those are the men who have the most to give. I've posted before about how Hickey's sexuality being an open secret (which it must at least be among the officers, given that Des Voeux, who isn't even stationed on Terror, knows about it) would, in the all male environment of the Navy, prime him to be viewed as sexually available and potentially sexually convenient, and that this could be taken as implying that his (varyingly effective) attempts at charm don't just resemble flirtation but are flirtation. This is relevant because Hickey playing into the perception of himself as sexually available/convenient to try to derive benefit from that perception wouldn't just be part of the narrative using generally female archetypes to construct Hickey, but also Hickey as a character playing a feminine role; presenting himself as willing and able to act as (a temporary replacement for) a woman.

This calls to mind a lot of interesting historical conceptions of homosexuals/inverts/what-have-you as separate and distinct from men (which still persist to a certain degree today and likely always will - gender and sexuality are not neatly separated categories), and the heterosexual identifying men who had sex with them. Although the popularity of most of these conceptions post date the setting of The Terror by a few decades, I wouldn't entirely write off their relevance, given The Terror is after all a television drama from 2018 that's obviously hugely influenced by many things from after the Franklin Expedition.

On a related note, Jean Genet, whose writing influenced Adam Nagaitis' performance, draws a distinction between men, boys and inverts (an ‘invert’ meaning, to oversimplify things, a queer person as explained by a model of queerness that linked same sex attraction to a general and inherent reversal of gendered traits) in The Thief's Journal, and argues that boys and inverts are actually more possessing of masculine virtues, or at least masculine action, then men "In a gang [...] the young boys and inverts are the ones who show boldness. They are the instigators of dangerous jobs. They play the role of the fecundating sting". There's a lot more to be said, I'm sure, about the really fascinating ways Genet handles gender and how that may have influenced Nagaitis' performance, but I am not smart or well read enough to say much of it! So I'll have to move on instead.

There's another feminine role Hickey seeks to step into, which is his own conception of Silna's role as, as he puts it, a witch. In seeking to step into what he imagines her role to be - Tuunbaq's mistress - he not only seeks to become an image constructed from racist conceptions but misogynistic conceptions as well. While I was at first hesitant to integrate this into a genderqueer reading, particularly a transfeminine one, because of the ways it could resemble transphobic ideas about trans people, particularly trans women, as delusionally chasing a parody of gender, I do think to get there you would have to take an additional step from "wrong about the significance of their gender" (eg, that it might equip them to be a 'witch') to "wrong about what their gender is". Think about how many cis women get deeply into 'divine feminine' mysticism that hodgepodges together bastardized versions of religious/spiritual practices and beliefs of various marginalized groups. Nobody would ever think to imply that those women are not actually women because they're wrong about the significance of their gender and racist in their spiritual practices, and there's no good reason to treat any kind of trans person any differently.

Reading a gendered angle into Hickey's aim to bond with Tuunbaq also adds an aspect of mysticism to his gender, which is where things really start to get fun. In various patriarchal cultures, traits, abilities and domains are gendered either as male or female, with obviously 'male' getting the most valued traits and abilities. However, this does not mean that there is not also value ascribed to what is gendered female and considered the domain of women. Recurring under this kind of model is the idea that the ultimate possessor of power is a being who can possess both a man's ability and a woman's, who is both a man and a woman in one. The alchemical rebis, for example, the end result of the alchemical 'great work', is illustrated as a being with a male head alongside a female one, under a sun (symbolic of the masculine) and a moon (symbolic of the feminine).

This kind of model generally (although not always!) does not extend the view of a being possessing both markers of manhood and womanhood as holy and powerful to human beings - to quote Robert Knott's essay The Myth of the Androgyne "As an idea manifested by myth, or in initiation rites of transference, it was pure, a unifying principle; as a physical reality it was a monstrosity—something to be abhorred." - but there is a president for mystics integrating this model into their conceptions around their own gender. The most influential example is probably the Victorian occultist, cult leader and racist Aleister Crowley. Cards on the table I have not read a lot of his work, but I am aware it contains a reoccurring glorification of androgyny from a very male chauvinist and gender essentialist perspective. Years ago I did read a quotation from his autobiography (which he wrote in third person, lol) of him describing his gender and the significance he believed it to hold, which really stuck with me for the fascinating combination of misogyny, general regressive views on gender, and articulation of what we'd now think of as a transgender identity. I'm just going to include basically all of it despite it being an entire paragraph because it's really interesting and relevant to my bigender Hickey headcanon.

"But whereas, in most similar cases, the feminine qualities appear at the expense of manhood, in him they are added to a perfectly normal masculine type. The principal effect has been to enable him to understand the psychology of women, to look at any theory with comprehensive and impartial eyes, and to endow him with maternal instincts on spiritual planes. He has thus been able to beat the women he has met at their own game and emerge from the battle of sex triumphant and scatheless. He has been able to philosophize about nature from the standpoint of a complete human being; certain phenomena will always be unintelligible to men as such, others, to women as such. He, by being both at once, has been able to formulate a view of existence which combines the positive and the negative, the active and the passive, in a single identical equation."

Now, Crowley wrote this in the late 1920s, and was influenced by a 1920s milieu, where's Hickey is in the late 1840s, but what's some anachronism among friends? And besides, the belief that men and women are separate types of beings with separate abilities, and that someone who is both is very special and intelligent for it (and that this may have magical implications) would be conceivable for a person to hold in any period. Hickey is above all convinced of his own extraordinarily, that being different from his peers makes him better. A central part of his conviction of his own exemplariness is the pride he takes in his ability to adapt, to take on and discard varying roles (including explicitly masculine roles and implicitly feminine roles) as is convenient to him. He's also convinced of a very colonialist, English view of the world, a worldview which implicitly includes male chauvinism and while he is not as misogynistic as he is racist it's clear from the way he talks about Silna that he's both. The conception of gender articulated by Crowley here could easily hold a lot of appeal for him, it's not difficult to slightly tilt Hickey's pride in his difference and his pride in his ability to take on varying roles, his conviction that these things make him extraordinary, and get a character who also believes their ability to take on these roles comes from having a rare gender configuration, who is proud of being both a man and a woman in one.

#cornelius hickey #the terror #didnt mean to make this so long hafdhsafkjdsf #op

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