How Does 'Slay' Portray Gaming Culture?

My bookshelf has a weird little corner reserved for guilty pleasures, and 'From Cannon Fodder To Slay Queen' by Chen Xi is one of those books I keep recommending. The novel traces an underdog heroine who starts as expendable background fodder and, through wit and a stubborn streak, reshapes her fate into something glamorous and dangerous. Chen Xi writes with a mix of sly humor and sharp social observation; the pacing leans into character-driven scenes rather than constant action, which I loved because it makes the protagonist’s growth feel earned. There are lovely secondary characters here too — a scheming rival who becomes an uneasy ally, a mentor with a messy past, and a love interest who’s more of an evolving concept than a static prize. The prose occasionally dips into cheeky banter and at other times delivers quiet emotional punches, so it works if you want both laughs and a few gutting moments. Personally, it scratched the itch for rom-com vibes with competent worldbuilding, and Chen Xi’s sense of timing had me grinning more than once.

I stumbled onto the trend while doomscrolling between lunch and work and honestly couldn't stop grinning. The hook is delightfully simple: a character or person who was written off as background 'cannon fodder' suddenly gets a full makeover, glow-up montage, or power-up moment and becomes a certifiable 'slay queen'—confident, stylish, and meme-ready. Creators love obvious before/after contrasts, and social platforms are built to reward those quick visual beats. That fast emotional payoff—sympathy, surprise, joy—is basically meme catnip. Beyond the surface-level eye candy, there's a sweet emotional core: people love redemption arcs. Whether it's a forgotten NPC in a game, a throwaway extra in a series, or a cosplayer turning a low-budget outfit into runway energy, the narrative of nobody → somebody resonates. Add catchy audio loops, snappy edits, and remixable templates, and suddenly everyone can retell and personalize the same story. That participatory layer turns a single joke into hundreds of variations, which the algorithm then amplifies. I also noticed the trend fed off some playful critique: it pokes at gatekeeping in fandoms and at the idea that only main characters get cool moments. Influencers and smaller creators used the trend to spotlight marginalized looks or to celebrate DIY creativity, which made it feel like a tiny grassroots celebration. Personally, watching a million different takes—from silly to genuinely touching—made my feed feel more human that week, and I loved the creativity it brought out.

If you're curious about who penned 'From Cannon Fodder To Slay Queen', it's commonly credited to the pen name Maya Hartwell. I dove into the author's notes and posts a while back and what struck me was how personal the motivations felt: Hartwell wrote it to flip the tired trope of the disposable side character and give them a full arc. The book reads like a love letter to underdog stories, but with a sharp wink at fandom expectations and genre mechanics. Hartwell's stated why was twofold: first, to explore what happens when a background character gets agency and refuses to be background anymore; second, to play with tone — mixing comedy, bitter satire, and earnest growth so the protagonist's transformation from cannon fodder into a charismatic 'slay queen' lands emotionally. I also noticed influences from works like 'Re:Zero' and 'The Rising of the Shield Hero' in the pacing and from romcom subversions in the dialogue. Personally, I loved how Hartwell balances critique and celebration of tropes, making it feel both familiar and joyfully rebellious.

I can still picture the grainy photo that circulated back then — a mason jar with glittery pink liquid and a hand-lettered sticker reading 'Slay Love.' The earliest place I tracked it to was a Tumblr post from late 2016: a crafty user who loved pastel aesthetics uploaded a few photos of a homemade mocktail and slapped that cute label on it. Tumblr’s tagging and reblog culture let the image float around niche circles where cute DIY drink labels and kitschy product photos thrive, and overnight it started picking up notes and screenshots. From there it migrated. People clipped the Tumblr post and posted it to Twitter and Instagram in 2017 and 2018, where the phrase began to detach from the original photo and became a captionable moment — a way to joke about looking fabulous while sipping something sparkly. By the time TikTok hit its stride in 2020, creators were remixing the visual idea into short videos: neon filters, sped-up tutorials on how to make a 'Slay Love' mocktail, and lip-syncs that turned it into a mini meme format. I love how a tiny DIY label on Tumblr snowballed into cross-platform meme life; it’s exactly the sort of internet micro-evolution that keeps me scrolling with a grin.

Summer of 2021 felt like a fever dream online, and 'Drink Slay Love' absolutely rode that wave. I watched the searches climb and then spike, and the clearest peak in search interest landed around late July through mid-August 2021. That window matches the viral TikTok clips, a handful of influencers using the same audio, and a remix that pushed the phrase into Spotify and YouTube recommendations. The Google Trends curve for the term shows a sharp rise over a couple of weeks and then a relatively steep fall as the novelty faded. I also noticed the geography of the searches — the United States, the UK, and parts of Southeast Asia lit up first, and then smaller pockets in Europe and Latin America followed. It’s the typical lifecycle: a catalyst (a viral video or playlist placement), rapid mainstream spread, then fragmentation into niche uses. After the August peak there were smaller bumps — one tied to a remix and another when a celebrity reposted a clip — but nothing that matched that initial surge. Looking back, that peak felt like the moment the phrase was everywhere at once, which is why it lodged in my memory. It’s fun to see how ephemeral these spikes are, but also how they echo in playlists, memes, and late-night references for months. I still chuckle when I hear a throwback clip from that week.

I get why you're hunting for this one — 'Reborn And Ready To Slay' has that addictive mix of humor and dark twists that hooked me fast. The cleanest place to start is the official serialization site where the author uploads chapters; these days that usually means RoyalRoad or Scribble Hub for indie English serials, and Webnovel or Wattpad sometimes carry official or licensed translations. I checked the author's page and their Patreon, and they often post links to the canonical reading order there. If you prefer a packaged experience, look for an ebook release on Kindle, Google Play Books, or Kobo; many successful web novels eventually get compiled and sold on those stores. For library-friendly options, OverDrive/Libby occasionally carries licensed light novel ebooks, so it's worth a quick search there. Also, peek at the fan communities on Reddit and Discord—people usually pin trustworthy reading sources and note where translations are official versus fan-made. Personally, I always try to support the author through official channels when possible; it makes re-reads that much sweeter.

This is the list I keep shouting about to friends whenever one of these two shows comes up. For 'Reborn', my top arc is the Awakening Arc — it’s where the lead actually becomes dangerous and the tone shifts from mystery to full-on stakes. The Brotherhood arc follows close behind because it builds the found-family vibe so well and gives side characters real weight. I also love the City of Ashes arc for its bleak worldbuilding and the Final Reckoning for how it twists expectations and pays off long-brewing betrayals. Each of these arcs layers character growth over escalating consequences, so the emotional punches land hard. For 'Ready To Slay', the Training Grounds arc is a must — it’s where skills sharpen and rivalries spark. The Crown Heist arc mixes heist thrills with political drama, and the Tournament of Crowns injects spectacle plus character one-upmanship. The Betrayal arc is brutal but brilliant for showing who people truly are, while the Revolution arc ties themes together and changes the status quo. I love how both works balance intimate moments with big set pieces; they read like those nights when you can’t stop turning pages, and that high keeps me smiling long after.

Bursting with chaos and cheeky grit, 'Reborn And Ready To Slay' throws you into a world where reincarnation isn't cozy — it's an opportunity to go full boss-slayer. I follow a protagonist who wakes up with memories from a past life and a very particular goal: hunt the monsters, fix the injustices, and do it with style. The early chapters are a rush of adrenaline — sharp fight scenes, quick-thinking tactics, and that satisfying momentum when the underdog starts outsmarting opponents. The story mixes dark humor with sincere stakes. There are morally gray choices, a ragtag group of allies who grow into a makeshift family, and a politics subplot where nobles and guilds make life harder for ordinary people. I loved the way the author balances spectacle with quieter moments — training montages that feel earned, and flashbacks that deepen motivation rather than just explain things. For me it’s the kind of read that hooks you at midnight and makes you forgive a cliffhanger or two because you’re already invested in who the main character becomes.