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fandomweekly2025-03-31 09:37 pm
quicksilverfox3) wrote in fandomweekly2025-03-31 09:37 pm
Entry tags:
[#254] bury the lead (SVSSS)
Theme Prompt: 254 - Unexpected Success
Title: bury the lead
Fandom: The Scum Villain's Self Saving System
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: A simple strategy class turns into the spark of something more. [for info Shen Yuan is the same person as Shen Qingqiu]
Shen Qingqiu folds his hands into his sleeve, his fingertips brushing against the blade concealed there. It’s a clumsily made thing, the handle splintering and held in place by a fraying twist of string. It would slice his own fingers open just as neatly as any attacker, but it is better than nothing. A twist of bitter nostalgia loops around his throat, squeezing tight for a moment before he clears his throat, and speaks. “We’re about to achieve a tremendous victory that we do not want.”
Dark eyes blink up at him, one beneath the fall of each sleeve, and several others clustered around his feet. He can’t move forwards to gesture at the map stretched over the table, the clusters of painted figures scattered across the marked surface, so he waves his fan at it instead.
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe leans forward, rising onto his toes so he doesn’t have to sacrifice his prized space at Shen Qingqiu’s side. His hair swings free from behind his ear and he shoves it back roughly without losing his focus. “This student is confused why a victory would not be desired.”
Ning Yingying tugs at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve, her face already set into a comically pronounced frown. Her frustration only grows as Shen Qingqiu cracks against the shore of his self-control and ruffles her hair, a small section coming free from her hair tie, and she swipes at his hand with a grumble.
Shen Qingqiu — Shen Yuan, kicking his feet in sheer delight at being able to perform any small variance from his scum villain designation — only smiles down at her, blunts his expression behind his fan. “You had a question, Ying-er?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Luo Binghe’s pout, bright and beautiful like the sun and that is how he has to watch his protagonist grow, in digital fragments so he doesn’t break in the face of what he will do. Sticky little lamb.
“Yes.” Ning Yingying puffs out her cheeks before she pops into speech. “A-Luo is right, why wouldn’t a victory be wanted? In the scenario, the enemy are clustered beneath a hill that is known to be unstable. A careful explosion would send the hill plummeting down on top of them without needing to risk our own troops in the process. Any competent spy could plant such a device without being seen so it is available to non-cultivators.”
Shen Yuan will allow himself a moment. Just a moment. He’s a fanboy down to his blackened bones, his determination forged through the most insistent of internet forums and his own spite that saw him spawn countless copypastas and a viral Youtube series documenting his best comments. Behind his fan, Shen Yuan bites the side of his cheek to contain his grin. His thin face wouldn’t allow anything more than that, no tell-tale stain of colour of his cheeks to tip off his too observant students clustered around his ankles like they want to crawl inside his robes and shelter there.
Like cats staring out of the clear window in a modified hoodie.
That could be something. Not a hoodie, the collective of the other Peak Lords would collapse in a screaming fit if Shen Yuan tried to wear anything more fitting than his assortment of robes. Hell, Yuan Qingyuan wouldn’t even look at him when Shen Qingqiu’s robes tore at the mid-calf during an argument at a budget meeting. A modified array stitched into a bag, maybe a tent?
Luo Binghe is motionless at Shen Qingqiu’s side, a restless energy thrumming through his limbs. He’s grown slightly since Shen Yuan’s last notice, his limbs overly long on his slight teenage frame, promising broad shoulders and a powerful build in the future, if Shen Yuan is alive long enough to notice it.
“An explosion would require luck to function correctly,” Ming Fan argues, leaning around the bulk of the students separating himself from Shen Qingqiu. “Too many factors could influence the direction and strength of the explosion, and if our spy is uncovered then the enemy will have additional resources to use against us!”
Shen Qinqiu chances a glance at Luo Binghe, a tip of the lashes, nothing more. The boy’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, his gaze locked onto the pieces, and then beyond them. Excellent.
“Both are excellent and worthy points to consider when counselling a strategy.” The System beeps, some minor fluctuation in Luo Binghe’s happiness at someone else being praised. Shen Qingqiu ignores it. “Luo Binghe. You have an idea.”
Not a question, a statement, an expectation, everything that Shen Yuan hated when one of his private tutors inflicted it on him — fractions laid out between the beeps of his heart monitor like some specially constructed torture — but it is a delight to use so he can look past it. Just.
“It is the hill, Shizun.” Luo Binghe chews his lower lip, his shoulders rounded beneath his ears. “Beyond it is farmland. If the hill is destroyed, then their lands will flood in the coming season. They will have no crops, the victorious army will struggle for food in the upcoming months.”
“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu grins, breaking his carefully crafted facade for a moment, a singular instance to inspire his students to work hard in the future. He leans forward, his sleeve gathered in his free hand so it doesn’t hit Ning Yingying’s well-aimed pout, and nudges the figures to one side with his fan. Not bad for someone who used to only play Risk online and quit after a few easy games.
“It’s important to keep this in mind. As strategists, you are not just planning for the immediate moment, but for the future.” Shen Qingqiu punctuates by snapping his fan open, hiding his satisfied smile behind it. There’s a strange gleam in Luo Binghe’s eyes, a look of such intense focus that the beeping of the System in celebration can’t negate the chill running down Shen Yuan’s spine.
Title: bury the lead
Fandom: The Scum Villain's Self Saving System
Rating/Warnings: None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: A simple strategy class turns into the spark of something more. [for info Shen Yuan is the same person as Shen Qingqiu]
Shen Qingqiu folds his hands into his sleeve, his fingertips brushing against the blade concealed there. It’s a clumsily made thing, the handle splintering and held in place by a fraying twist of string. It would slice his own fingers open just as neatly as any attacker, but it is better than nothing. A twist of bitter nostalgia loops around his throat, squeezing tight for a moment before he clears his throat, and speaks. “We’re about to achieve a tremendous victory that we do not want.”
Dark eyes blink up at him, one beneath the fall of each sleeve, and several others clustered around his feet. He can’t move forwards to gesture at the map stretched over the table, the clusters of painted figures scattered across the marked surface, so he waves his fan at it instead.
“Shizun?” Luo Binghe leans forward, rising onto his toes so he doesn’t have to sacrifice his prized space at Shen Qingqiu’s side. His hair swings free from behind his ear and he shoves it back roughly without losing his focus. “This student is confused why a victory would not be desired.”
Ning Yingying tugs at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve, her face already set into a comically pronounced frown. Her frustration only grows as Shen Qingqiu cracks against the shore of his self-control and ruffles her hair, a small section coming free from her hair tie, and she swipes at his hand with a grumble.
Shen Qingqiu — Shen Yuan, kicking his feet in sheer delight at being able to perform any small variance from his scum villain designation — only smiles down at her, blunts his expression behind his fan. “You had a question, Ying-er?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Luo Binghe’s pout, bright and beautiful like the sun and that is how he has to watch his protagonist grow, in digital fragments so he doesn’t break in the face of what he will do. Sticky little lamb.
“Yes.” Ning Yingying puffs out her cheeks before she pops into speech. “A-Luo is right, why wouldn’t a victory be wanted? In the scenario, the enemy are clustered beneath a hill that is known to be unstable. A careful explosion would send the hill plummeting down on top of them without needing to risk our own troops in the process. Any competent spy could plant such a device without being seen so it is available to non-cultivators.”
Shen Yuan will allow himself a moment. Just a moment. He’s a fanboy down to his blackened bones, his determination forged through the most insistent of internet forums and his own spite that saw him spawn countless copypastas and a viral Youtube series documenting his best comments. Behind his fan, Shen Yuan bites the side of his cheek to contain his grin. His thin face wouldn’t allow anything more than that, no tell-tale stain of colour of his cheeks to tip off his too observant students clustered around his ankles like they want to crawl inside his robes and shelter there.
Like cats staring out of the clear window in a modified hoodie.
That could be something. Not a hoodie, the collective of the other Peak Lords would collapse in a screaming fit if Shen Yuan tried to wear anything more fitting than his assortment of robes. Hell, Yuan Qingyuan wouldn’t even look at him when Shen Qingqiu’s robes tore at the mid-calf during an argument at a budget meeting. A modified array stitched into a bag, maybe a tent?
Luo Binghe is motionless at Shen Qingqiu’s side, a restless energy thrumming through his limbs. He’s grown slightly since Shen Yuan’s last notice, his limbs overly long on his slight teenage frame, promising broad shoulders and a powerful build in the future, if Shen Yuan is alive long enough to notice it.
“An explosion would require luck to function correctly,” Ming Fan argues, leaning around the bulk of the students separating himself from Shen Qingqiu. “Too many factors could influence the direction and strength of the explosion, and if our spy is uncovered then the enemy will have additional resources to use against us!”
Shen Qinqiu chances a glance at Luo Binghe, a tip of the lashes, nothing more. The boy’s mouth is pressed into a thin line, his gaze locked onto the pieces, and then beyond them. Excellent.
“Both are excellent and worthy points to consider when counselling a strategy.” The System beeps, some minor fluctuation in Luo Binghe’s happiness at someone else being praised. Shen Qingqiu ignores it. “Luo Binghe. You have an idea.”
Not a question, a statement, an expectation, everything that Shen Yuan hated when one of his private tutors inflicted it on him — fractions laid out between the beeps of his heart monitor like some specially constructed torture — but it is a delight to use so he can look past it. Just.
“It is the hill, Shizun.” Luo Binghe chews his lower lip, his shoulders rounded beneath his ears. “Beyond it is farmland. If the hill is destroyed, then their lands will flood in the coming season. They will have no crops, the victorious army will struggle for food in the upcoming months.”
“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu grins, breaking his carefully crafted facade for a moment, a singular instance to inspire his students to work hard in the future. He leans forward, his sleeve gathered in his free hand so it doesn’t hit Ning Yingying’s well-aimed pout, and nudges the figures to one side with his fan. Not bad for someone who used to only play Risk online and quit after a few easy games.
“It’s important to keep this in mind. As strategists, you are not just planning for the immediate moment, but for the future.” Shen Qingqiu punctuates by snapping his fan open, hiding his satisfied smile behind it. There’s a strange gleam in Luo Binghe’s eyes, a look of such intense focus that the beeping of the System in celebration can’t negate the chill running down Shen Yuan’s spine.