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dlamp-dictator · 4 years

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Allen Rambles about Code of Brawl

Man... remind me to never talk about having a future Rambling in the works, it’ll instantly fall into draft-hell. But anyway, I’ve been meaning to talk about Arknights in depth for a while now, but I’ve never had much drive to actually finish the damn draft of my initial thoughts a few months ago. I couldn’t tell you why, I just lost the drive to finish the thing. However, with Code of Brawl coming to a close and my thoughts on the event still lingering I think I can use it as jumping off point to actually talk about the game.

That said, here’s the synopsis.

Arknights is a Tower Defense game for the PC mobile devices placed in the world of Terra, where an infectious disease known as Oripathy ravages the land, slowly turning people to minerals in a slow and painful process. You play as the Doctor, an amnesiac military commander of the Rhodes Island pharmaceutical company who fights against the Infected radicals known as the Reunion.

That’s about as far as I can go in a single paragraph for main story, but Code of Brawl instead focuses on the eccentric adventures of Pengiun Logistics, side faction of the game that’s a seemingly innocent delivery company with quite the ragtag group in it, consisting of the happy-go-lucky gunner Exusiai, the cold and dismissive swordswoman Texas, the excitable and energetic Sora, and the business-savvy Croissant. All led by the charismatic and multi-talented Emperor. However, as their new intern Bison comes into the fold the group is caught in a series of gang wars and organized crime trying to snuff out the company.

And unlike Fire Emblem Three Houses, that really is the basic plot without me sarcastically building anything up. With that all said, I think I can move on and talk about...

The Story

The story of Code of Brawl honestly has the best and worst of Arknights writing. I think having a story that focused on a group outside of Rhodes Island was for the better. For all the lore blurbs and archive notes we get, I think Code of Brawl proves just how little Rhodes Island is involved with the world of Terra at large despite it’s apparent reputation as a weird and quirky company with some terrifyingly powerful Operators and lofty ambitions. And while I’m still only on Chapter 4 since I’m grinding out some E2 before moving on, Rhodes Island really does more reacting to random Reunion plans than anything proactive with their goals of curing Oripathy. They feel more like a counter military force to Reunion, and a barely effective on at that given the point of the story I’m at. Code of Brawl, being focused on another group with a more direct conflict and villains, feels a lot more cohesive and interesting, as Penguin Logistics’s goal is to just get Bison through his first day and take out whatever force is harassing them this week.

Penguin Logistics as a whole is a rather interesting bunch of ruffians and seeing them is gallivant around Lungmen trading blows and bullets with gangsters is a joy to read and see. Seeing some of the inner workings of Lungmen society, seeing a bit of the underbelly, as well as getting to see the cast just have more casual interactions with each other is great. We learn that Sora really is just gay for Texas, and the all of Penguin Logistics has only 3 function braincells with Texas having one and Mostima having the other two. We get to see that Sora has probably beaten someone to death with her microphone at some point given how willing she is to bar fight. A lot of fun stuff.

And then... there’s Mostima.

Look, I like this story, I really do, but Mostima really didn’t need to be here as far as the story is concerned. All she does plot-wise is rile up Exusiai, drop some cryptic advice for Bison, shows she knows more powerful than she leads on, and is a bit of a deus ex machina for the end of the plot, and not even by that much. You could had replaced her with Chen, Swire, Hoshigumi, ShiraYuki, or anyone else that would logically be in Lungmen at the time. Hell, ShiraYuki knowing everything a being cryptic about it would at least be in character for her.

And that’s not to knock Mostima. I actually pulled her in my last ten-pull (didn’t get Waii Fu though, and I’m still salty about that), she’s a pretty good and damn near god-tier once you get her to E2 if some of the guides on her are to be believed, though her kit is a little niche for an AoE caster of her cost. However, as far as the story is concerned she shows a serious issue with Arknights as a whole. That’s its constant need to have half of their characters be mysterious.

Mysterious Characters

So, just to give an example, here is a list of characters in Arknights with a Mysterious Past™. These are characters that either have their archive notes explicitly state their past is unknown, or characters who’s past is implied but but deliberately kept unconfirmed.

With that said...

Mostima

Myrtle

Cuora

Skadi

Specter

Shining

Siege

Projekt Red

Specter

Blue Poison

Lappland

Texas (?)

ShiraYuki

AMIYA

Okay, I’m cheating a little with Texas since she has enough of her past implied, but it’s still technically a mystery as far as the specifics go. But you see my point, right? A lot of characters have a Mysterious Past™, which is a nice shorthand to not go into depth about writing their background. Now, you don’t need to give twenty paragraphs on their backstory, but something would be nice. Keeping things a mystery might be nice for the theory-crafters, but for me it’s annoy as hell to see so many character, so many high-rated that really just have their skills and design to go off of, especially with most the cast overall having a pretty simple background to them that are interesting when you read through the lore blurbs and think about it. Breeze is a former noble that wanted to do more good in the world than throwing money at a problem. Liskarm is a protective friend that joined Rhodes Island to make sure the problematic Franka integrated without problems. Frostleaf is a child soldier that wants to do some good in the world after becoming Infected. Kroos, Beagle, and Fang joined Rhodes Island after getting kicked out of their old jobs. You don’t need to be flashy, but giving answers isn’t an admission of lacking creativity. The hints might be nice for the analysts, but the fans would likely want some answers.

Again, Mostima isn’t a problem, and a lot characters in that list do have some concrete hints about their past. Texas and Lappland are likely a former mafia heiresses and old rivals. Shining was likely a highly skilled mercenary before realizing she could do more good in the world with a healing staff instead of a sword. Siege is likely apart of Londinium royalty, but was either exiled or ran due to political turmoil. But that’s the issue, likely isn’t confirmed. Mostima being a powerful character with a mysterious past just feels like a cop out to me. It’s not bad, but she’s a symptom of what some of the issues of Arknights story is. I’m not asking for AFK Arena-levels of lore, just... an explanation here or there would be nice.

But anyway that’s my main issue, moving on.

General Gushing

Despite that large critique I have, there’s a lot I love about this story. For simplicity sake, because I’m tired of all the editing, I’ll put it into list form:

Penguin Logistics in general was just a joy to see. Watching them in action and just how laissez-faire they are is hilarious, especially when paired with the straightforward and reserved Bison freaking out over the wackiness.

Speaking of, Bison made for a very good straight man to balance out all the wild antics of PL. He really kept things from getting too crazy by at least questioning the zaniness, and the point when he finally stops caring and just charges in with a crazy plan of his own just gave me the giddiest of smiles.

Given how they discuss it, PL apparently trade blows with criminals and thugs on a daily basis, and since they’re just a delivery company this implies they likely deliver drugs or other hot cargo the mafia and gangs want... and given Emperor’s personality, that wouldn’t shock me.

Emperor in general is a delight of a character. He’s about as charismatic and wild as his aesthetic makes him look. I would legit whale for him if he ever become an operator.

Learning a little bit about Lungmen culture was fun as well, as little of it as we see. It’s my personal headcanon now that the mafia and general thugs of Lungmen don’t mess with civilians because they’re either a sleeper agent under the Rat King’s protection or they might be a kung fu master in plain clothes like Waai Fu.

Waai Fu and Texas fist fighting in the streets of Lungmen is just hilarious and awesome. I honestly don’t know what that says about either of them. Texas is holding her own against a martial artist with over 10 years of experience barehanded, meanwhile Waai Fu is holding her own against what lore blurbs have implied is the former heiress/hitman of a mafia. All the while drunkards and Texas’s coworkers are egging them on. This is the dumb content I live for.

Save for some of the absolute bullshit of the challenge maps, I found the actual game content to be pretty fair and interesting. The Bullies required good defender placement, a lot of the ranged units focused on targeting the helpful buildings that buffed your characters and increased the operator deployment count, and maps themselves had a few clever chokepoints to work with... At least until they started spamming Fanatics.

Bison actually has a pretty solid kit for a free Operator. He buffs a lot of adjacent units, has a no real weakness, his tools don’t feel niche like Grani or Celycon, overall a great unit. Once I finish E2-ing all my main Operators I might build him next.

While I have issues with her as a story element, Mostima is a 6-star that has instant utility once you promote her to E2, much like Chen and Siege. This is something I’m relieved to say as a lot of my 6-stars aren’t worth much until you E2 them and I’m still trying to E2 some of my easier units like Cuora and Gavial for Chapter 5 and CC.

That’s really all I have to say on that front. So to close things off...

For the Future

Like I always say in these Ramblings, I don’t like the idea of people prattling on about being able to “fix” or “rewrite” something has already been made. It always comes across as both arrogant and ignorant to me. However, I think it’s completely fair to make requests and suggestions for the future. ‘

That said, I'd like to continue seeing side stories without Rhodes Island’s involvement. Both to see other factions in their natural element and because, frankly, Rhodes Island always feels a little out of place when involved in other stories, or at least more of a distraction than a good element if chapter 2 and 3 are anything to go by. I think a Black Steel side story would be nice. Jessica, Franka, Liskarm, and Vanille getting into shenanigans in Columbia or something sounds like a fun time. Maybe have the leader/high commander of the organization as a new operator and they’re a really powerful Supporter than can buff the party, like a 6-star version of Sora or something that gives operators insane ASPD buffs... I don’t know, something like that anyway. Ideally something a little less wordy than Code of Brawl at least.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say. Next time... I’ll talk about something else. Maybe discuss a manga or something.

See you all later.

#arknights #your dictator is speaking

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nogoodmox · 5 years

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since it’s late n u guys have been so encouraging

i wanna preface this by saying....im not a Writer and this is pretty much the first wrestling-related thing i’ve ever written. also this was written at 3 am yesterday so pls keep that in mind ALSO it’s not very. romantic bc 1.) im not good with that stuff and 2.) it’s kinda covering the early stages of their relationship so they’re barely even friends yet! (this takes place right before war games!)

that being said thanks for being so nice abt it guys ur all the sweetest and i love u and i’m sorry this isn’t Better but constructive criticism would be appreciated! mwah!

Pete tapped his fist against his jaw in a needless effort to hype himself up.

The guaranteed brutality of his upcoming match didn’t faze him—brutality was his specialty, after all— but despite that, he couldn’t shake off an uncomfortable feeling.

Maybe it was the thought of having to rely on others for his victory, or maybe it was the thought of them relying on him. Neither were things that he was exactly used to.

He wondered, when the time came, if he would put himself in harm’s way for the sake of the others.

Pete thought of the last time he had relied on someone. It was ironic in a way, how the same person he had tentatively began to trust would be one of his opponents tonight.

He had never really thought of Roderick as a friend, just a sort of unavoidable ally. His eagerness had been irritating as was his general disposition, but Pete had chosen to put his trust in him. A choice he’d come to regret.

He liked to believe that the betrayal had made him all the more dangerous now. Not only could he use his desire for vengeance to his advantage, he’d also be sure not to make a mistake like that again.

Pete had operated just fine on his own for as long as he could remember. There were a select few times where he’d tried opening up, and each time he paid for it. It took a few experiences for the lesson to be drilled into his brain, but at least now there was no way he could forget it.

He should stick with what he knew best, and what he knew best was solitude.

Keep interactions short and bitter. You look out for one person, and that person is yourself. Everyone else is simply an obstacle or dead weight.

It was a philosophy he lived by, and one he truly believed in. There just happened to be times where he’d let it slip and thought maybe, just maybe, someone could be an exception. But they never were.

A steady knock on the locker room door disrupted his thoughts. A faint feeling of pain registered in Pete’s jaw as he realized he’d been tapping his fist against it this whole time. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Ricochet’s head popped in.

“You got a minute?”

Pete didn’t answer, he just raised an eyebrow when he noticed something in Ricochet’s hands. It looked like a tube of toothpaste.

Ricochet followed his gaze and held up the object, wiggling it in his hand. “Oh, this? Yeah, it’s kinda why I’m here, actually.” He walked up to Pete and held it out to him. Pete read the label, which only confused him more.

“White….face paint?”

The other man adjusted his North American Championship on his shoulder. “Yeah. Y’know, war paint for tonight. It was Hanson and Rowe’s idea. They figured we should at least look like a cohesive unit.”

“What’s the point of that?” Pete deadpanned. “Face paint won’t get us a win against Undisputed Era.”

Ricochet looked at a loss for a second, then sighed. “C’mon man. It’s to pump you up, get you excited to kick some ass. Plus it’ll look cool, yeah?”

Pete wasn’t very convinced, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. He did admittedly like the idea of amping up the intimidation factor, not that he was going to tell Ricochet that. “Fine. Might as well fool people into thinking we’re a real team.”

“S’that supposed to mean? We’re a real team. Cole and his cronies are gonna see just how real we are tonight.” Ricochet declared, giving Pete a few taps on the chest.

Pete stiffened at the contact and glared at the highflier. Ricochet was someone who currently fell under the obstacle category in Pete’s eyes. He hadn’t forgotten the match where both their titles had been on the line. They never received closure, and Pete intended to change that next time they crossed paths in the ring.

He’d prefer for Ricochet to stay an obstacle rather than become dead weight.

“I’ve said it before, you’re just a guy carrying a piece of gold that I want. As for the other two, they’ve already got each other. We may be on the same side, but we’re not a team.”

The grin on Ricochet’s face weakened a bit. “Man do you like, practice this stuff in a mirror before you talk to anyone?” He chuckled at his own joke—was it a joke? The weight of Pete’s words didn’t seem to mean much to him, however, as he quickly bounced back. “Anyway, face paint, yes or no?”

“Sure.” Pete said.

“Great.” Ricochet tossed the tube of paint to Pete. “Doll me up.”

Pete barely caught the tube in time. He whipped his head up to face Ricochet, trying to make sure he had heard him correctly. “What?”

Ricochet had placed his title on the bench next to him and met Pete’s gaze expectantly. “What? I can’t put it on myself. There’s no mirror in here.”

“Then find one.”

“No can do.” He almost looked smug, as if he had planned this. “Bathroom’s closed for repairs, apparently Kyle and Bobby thought it’d be fun to flush Sullivan’s gear down the toilet. He caught ‘em in the act.” Ricochet let out a whistle. “It wasn’t pretty.”

Pete didn’t want to hear any more. For whatever reason, Ricochet was intent on sporting war paint, he might as well indulge him. After tonight, he could set his sights on what really mattered.

“Alright. C’mere.” Pete placed his championship on the bench opposite of Ricochet’s and squeezed some paint onto his fingers.

He lifted his hand only to pause suddenly, leaving it hovering in front of Ricochet’s face. “What’s their paint look like anyways?”

Ricochet thought for a moment. “It’s like…a V shape on each cheek.” He explained, tracing the motion over Pete’s cheeks with his finger. “Simple enough.”

“Right.” Pete grunted, doing everything he could to ignore the way his face had heated up. He pressed his fingers to Ricochet’s face and began painting the design, trying his best to keep his hand steady.

Pete came to a halt when Ricochet started giggling quietly. He gave him a strange look, pulling his hand away.

The other man took a moment to compose himself, then cleared his throat. “Tickles.” Came the simple explanation. Pete rolled his eyes and continued with his work, retracing the lines to smooth out the jagged edges.

He paused again to add more paint to his fingers, avoiding Ricochet’s gaze. Pete could feel the man looking at him and unconsciously tossed his head a bit to let his hair cover his face.

As Pete started on the other cheek, he noticed Ricochet hadn’t stopped staring at him at him, almost amusingly.

“What?” Pete finally asked, with a hint of challenge.

Ricochet seemed unbothered. “You’re just a lot more careful than I thought you’d be” He said, a little quieter than usual. It was unclear if the remark was meant to be teasing. It seemed sincere enough, but even if it was Pete wasn’t sure what the implications were.

Pete said nothing and averted his eyes again, finishing with a final swipe. “There.” He muttered. “All done.”

“Great! I’ll just have to trust that it looks good.” Ricochet reached up to touch his freshly painted face, then decided against it. “Alright, your turn!”

Pete froze, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He wasn’t particularly keen on anyone paying close attention to his face.

It was bumpy and weird; he knew this. Acne scars and uneven stubble were just the beginning of it. It was something he’d learned to accept, but he wasn’t exactly dying for others to get a good look at it.

Regardless, he knew Ricochet wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he had, Pete wouldn’t have just spent the past few minutes spreading paint on his face in uncomfortable silence.

Ricochet took the paint tube from Pete’s hands. “You mind uh…” He made a hair flip motion. “Getting that out of the way?”

Pete looked down at his hands, covered in white paint, and decided to go with option two. He swung his head to the side—a little too forcefully—and flipped the blond mess back. He was satisfied for a moment before it came toppling back down in his face.

It was times like this where he seriously reconsidered growing out his hair.

“I gotchu.” Ricochet intervened, looking even more amused than before. He tucked Pete’s hair behind his ear to keep it from coming loose again. “Sure got a lot of hair homeboy.” He commented.

“Guess you can’t relate.” Pete replied bluntly.

Ricochet laughed out loud at that, almost too eager to make fun of himself. “Guess not.” He emptied what was left of the paint into his hand and got to work. Pete winced at the cold feeling, trying not to pull away. “But you know,” Ricochet continued. “The lack of hair could be the secret to my speed.”

Pete wasn’t fully sure if he was joking. “I reckon that’s why you got pieces missing in your eyebrows too?”

The highflier laughed again, this time not as loud, but a huge smile graced his face. “Man, you’re alright.”

Ricochet spread the paint on Pete’s cheeks with ease, moving just as smoothly as he did in the ring. Pete fought with everything he had to try not to break out into a fit of laughter. Ricochet was right, the feeling made him ticklish. His lip curved upward in a smile that he quickly pushed away.

“All set.” Ricochet finally announced, looking proud of his work. Pete didn’t doubt that the man had probably done a better job than him. “Now we look like a force to be reckoned with.”

Pete held couldn’t help but soften his expression a bit. He felt cool, and far more relaxed than earlier. Once again, he wasn’t going to tell Ricochet that, but he appreciated the feeling. “If painting faces keeps you from screwing up tonight, then so be it.” He replied with a shrug.

Ricochet shook his head, and if Pete didn’t know any better he’d say he was annoyed. “You never quit do you? Y’know we can do this whole rivalry thing without all the little remarks, yeah?”

“Cause make no mistake,” Ricochet’s tone grew serious. “I’m just as focused on that title of yours as you are on mine.”

The sudden change surprised Pete, but it didn’t faze him. After all, this was why he kept up his guard so high. He knew behind every person there was a set of intentions, and each interaction with him was a means of achieving them.

“I’m well aware.” Pete said evenly. “S’why I’m not buying this partner ruse. We’re not friends, and we never will be.”

Ricochet paused for a moment. “Just ‘cause you’re a future opponent, doesn’t mean we can’t be on the same page now. It’s no ruse, I’ve got your back tonight. I mean that.”

“Better to have your own back first.”

Ricochet lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck, looking unsure of where to go from there.

“You’re a tough nut to crack.” He said finally, leaning down to grab his North American championship. When he came back up, he was smiling again. “But I’m willing to prove where my loyalties lie out there. There’s no hiding in the ring.”

Pete eyed him for a moment, then nodded briskly. “That’s one thing we can agree on.”

“I’ve got another. We both wanna beat the hell out of those undisputed assholes, right?” Ricochet offered. “That snake Roddy’s gonna be out there tonight. If you ask me, you should focus on giving him the ass whopping he’s had coming instead of making enemies out of your partners.”

An odd silence followed his words. Pete didn’t know how to respond, and Ricochet’s intense gaze wasn’t making it any easier. In his heart Pete knew he had a point.

He was more than willing to take on all four members of the Undisputed Era himself, but he knew realistically he wouldn’t come out victorious. He needed Ricochet and the War Raiders whether he liked it or not.

Just one night couldn’t be so bad, right? Even if it involved putting his faith in other people. Ricochet had nothing to gain from betraying him. Hanson and Rowe, he wasn’t so sure, but considering how fixated they had been on the Undisputed Era for the past several weeks, it was unlikely.

Ricochet saved Pete from having to muster up an answer by reaching over and picking up his United Kingdom Championship. Pete’s eyes widened and he tensed up, ready to snatch it out of his hands.

There was no need to, however, as Ricochet placed it snugly on Pete’s shoulder.

He gave it a few pats, admiring the intricate design on the belt for several moments.

Ricochet took a few steps back, his own title sitting around his waist. “You look good.” He said finally. “Let’s do work tonight, mate.”

Pete’s partner tossed the now empty paint tube in his hand once, then turned to saunter off.

“Not your mate.” Pete replied in a half-hearted protest. He couldn’t see Ricochet’s face as he left the room, but Pete knew he was smiling.

“By the way, the bathroom’s perfectly fine. Just figured we could use a team bonding exercise.”

#heh #there u go #like i said not very romantic #but idk ihope u enjoy! thanks for being so nice guys <3333333 #mine #ig #writing for wrestlers like pete or dean is really really hard #cuz i love them so much im afraid im gonna mess them up

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peachychimu · 7 years

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🔷 Irises

Summary: You and Yoongi hate each other but somehow you still have feelings for him.

Pairing: Painter!Yoongi x reader

Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u kno

Words: 5k

A/N: I really like ‘enemies to lovers’ fanfictions so I decided to write one. I hope you like it. I apologize for any errors.

"It looks more like a shit than a stone." Yoongi said critically, pointing at your incomplete painting, his slim finger circling around the grey thing as he was standing behind you. Flustered, you nodded but the blonde clicked his tongue, before grabbing your hand where you kept paintbrush, his hot breath ghosting over your skin when he whispered.

"Close your eyes and imagine that fucking stone. Sharp edges, texture, roughness... it's not that difficult. Even children can do it better. Give it some stick for God's sake because now you just fuck around. With that attitude you can leave the class.” he hissed. Hopelessness devoured you completely and you could only hear rumble of your heartbeat, cheeks burning shamelessly. You didn't have enough courage to look up at your teacher, even if some internal voice was telling you to scream at the man. After all, you were just a newbie!

Impassive Yoongi continued his lecture on painting landscapes, telling characteristics of oil paint that you used during that lesson. He was standing in front of his students, boring expression scanning each of them. His pants were covered with paint, as well his loose blouse that was literally hanging on his arms. The man was incredibly sexy; with those dark eyes and plump, shining lips he was attracting many people. But under that handsomeness the blonde was just a big dickhead and that's all.

Yoongi showed few oil paintings: Dedham Vale, Landscape with Charon Crossing the Styx, The Giant Mountains... they all were very beautiful, detailed and just perfect, your own works will never be as great as them. With a pouty face you looked down at your painting, seeing meadow covered with thousand tiny flowers and that ill-fated stone painted in the middle of the canvas. You sighed; your dreams of becoming a painter just jumped out of the window.

The man demonstrated his own painting that he had been working on for couple of past day. It presented winter landscape - the pines were covered with heavy snow, branches almost breaking under the weight of a white fluff. There was also an frozen river, ice shining brightly, reflecting sunlight. In the far distance you could spot cottage, smoke coming out of the chimney. You couldn’t look away.

Suddenly he clapped his hands to get attention and silence the student.

"That's all for today. Remember to practice every day.” Yoongi said that caused you to stand up and leave his apartment as quickly as possible, not wanting to meet the blonde’s gaze.

"Oh c'mon Y/N! You are doing so well! You can't quit just because of him! Yoongi is a good teacher, believe me. He's a little bit austere... I would say. But after all, he's definitely not a dickhead but a kindhearted man that is just introverted..."

"What the fuck, Iryda? He's always so mean to me! I can't take it anymore!" you yelled, slightly resentful. You two were sitting in your common living room, your best friend wrapped around thick blankets looking like a burrito as she was trying to convince you that Yoongi wasn't bad at all.

The urge of going back and slapping the man was growing inside of you with every minute but you decided to stay at home and try to get over it.

The girl looked up at you, smiling softly. Her features were emphasized by a sunlight that was coming through the window.

"Hey, Y/N. You’ve always wanted to be a painter, right? You are doing such a great job, I can see improvements day by day. Yoongi is my friend, we work together and I know him well. You can't just leave him like that." she said and you snorted before glancing at your painting that was waiting for you in the corner. Unfinished.

"It has been your 7th class so far. You are getting better. And just because he's strict doesn't mean that he hates you. He sees your potential. That's all." your best friend stood up, hugging you from behind, her chin resting on your tensed shoulder as she whispered.

"And by the way, your stone doesn't look like a shit. Just add more shadow to receive a cohesive look and it's going to be great."

Iryda was painter too. Her hands could create work of art, straight from heaven, so beautiful and nostalgic. She was into portraits - walls of your apartment were covered with paintings of random people, their faces painted with such a remarkable precision. If you got closer, you could see millions strands of hair, wrinkles and the texture of the skin that looked so real. Those strangers were showing particular emotions - rage, sadness, happiness, desire ... you loved them and you had never complained about the number of paintings that was increasing every month.

Of course, you were jealous. Iryda and Yoongi were doing things that they loved while you had chosen safer way by going to university. You liked psychology but... art had been always your first love.

You didn't have a talent, but you were too desperate to just give up and accept the fact. After all, only hard work was the key to success.

So, you decided to work even harder to show Yoongi that you weren't lazy at all. Even if Iryda assured you that the man liked you, you still couldn't get over his hurtful words that had been rumbling in your head since the last lesson. There was a sting in your heart and bitterness that devoured your mind because you wanted to impress him and he was just being an arrogant asshole.

Wrrr

You painted whenever you had time. It was kind of hard to combine your hobby with studying, but you managed to spare few hours for painting every day, even if sometimes you were literally dying from tiredness, in front of your canvas. At the end of a week, you finished two works (one including that stone). You were really proud of yourself, seeing clear improvements. Of course, it wasn't as good as Yoongi's ones and you weren't next Van Gogh but both images were just simply okay.

Tomorrow was the next lesson of your art course. You were slightly excited, sitting in your room at 2 am and preparing a gift for Yoongi. A very special one.

No matter how many times you had called him a dick, asshole or the like you still liked him. Somehow. The blonde had that sparkle in his eyes and you just couldn't help but think about him more and more, even if you didn't want to, your brain always remanding you about unwanted consequences of falling for the man. You decided to give him one of your paintings, to show that you are more than just a silly girl.

You painted irises. Thousands blue flowers scattered on a field that were looking like a huge carpet, freshly cut grass being an intense deep green stain that contrasted with nostalgic blooms and sky which was light and soft. Thick clouds resembled candy floss and you added few butterflies to receive a nice, fresh, rural look. You didn't forget about details like golden dots on a flowers' petals which looked like a rich loom or shadows and intensity of colors. The painting looked real and you couldn't wait to give it to Yoongi.

"Woah, it's so beautiful." you heard Iryda's voice behind you and you turned to girl, smiling proudly. She was wearing satin pajamas, her long hair cascading down the chest.

"Ahh, thanks. I tried very hard."

She came closer, with her lips open admiring your work, long fingers of the girl tracing lines of flowers in air.

"I love it. Will you hang it on the wall? It would look nice in the kitchen..."

"Sorry, but I'm giving it to Yoongi."

Iryda immediately turned to you, her facial expression showed surprise. She sat up, grabbing your hands.

"Oh my god, honey... I can't believe that you... finally understand that he isn't bad at all...I'm-"

"No, I still think that he's a jackass. I just wanna give him my painting to show that I can paint too. Maybe he will finally fuck off."

You didn't mean everything that you had said but you didn't want to chuck in the towel as well, so you decided to be stubborn bitch like always. His words hurt, but you wanted him to see you, pay attention to you and just be near you.

"Okay, just don't kill him." Iryda sighed, before she kissed your forehead and left the room.

You cocked your head to the painting and smiled softly at the thought of tomorrow's lesson. Tingles of excitements washed over you and you knew, that you won't get any sleep that night.

Drops of rain were bouncing off your black umbrella as you were heading to Yoongi's apartment, hurriedly trotting down the empty street. You kept tightly your paintings that were in a big folder which was even covered with your scarf, scared that the rain could damage it. Puffs were coming out of your mouth and your hair was a big mess but you didn't care. After several minutes, you found yourself in Yoongi's apartment, panting like a dog. You had expected other students but the place was completely empty, only soft music playing in the distance. Were you late?

Carefully, you placed the folder on the floor, before looking at your watch - 4:01 pm. You weren't late at all, so where were others? Where was Yoongi?

You sighed; maybe the lesson had been canceled before you came? Then, why had no one called you?

Ugh, selfish dickheads. you thought.

You sat down, deciding to wait few minutes. The room seemed to be intact - the floor was clear without any paint stains and fresh canvases were still waiting for students in the corner. There was no chemical smell that was usually filling the air, but cherry, intense scent that surprised you a little bit. Yoongi's workplace was tidy and neat too, his brushes and colors mixing pallets were clean, laying on his small table that also looked like a new one.

Without those paint stains, dirt and chemical smell the room didn't have this special aura that you loved. Everything was so... insipid and boring.

"What are you doing here, brat?" you suddenly heard raspy voice, coming from behind. The harsh tone made your back straighten and you turned to the man, already knowing that it was Yoongi.

He was wearing tight, black shirt that emphasized his muscles and pants in the same colour. His jaw was clenched and the man gave you stern look as he approached to you.

"Week ago, I said that today's class is canceled. Didn't you listen to me?" the blonde said and you just shrugged, trying to not look nervous (even if you were a total mess inside).

Yoongi inhaled harshly and the blonde seemed to be angry at you. He was about to explode.

"Aish you are so stupid! Go away!”

The man went to his workplace and sat down. He turned the music up before started mixing few colors with each other, humming as if he was alone.

Your cheeks became red and you had never been this mad in your whole life. How could he just ignore you while you were still there, sitting like an idiot? You wanted to punch him, scream at him, destroy all his paintings and bury him alive. This fucker was treating you like a shit!

The blood was pumping in your veins like a crazy and you didn't hear anything but your own heartbeat. You clenched your fists, knuckles turning white as you approached to the random vase and threw it straight at the wall, making Yoongi slightly jump.

"What the-"

"Can you do me a favor and stop being an asshole? I've been trying so hard to impress you since the first fucking class but you are always so mean to me. What did I do? Why do you hate me so much?!" you screamed, tears blurring your vision.

"And stop ignoring me, y-you, you.. wrr!"

Yoongi seemed totally unaffected by your words, his cold eyes locked with your puffy face.

You grabbed your folder, pulling out your painting and showing to Yoongi.

"I wanted to give you a gift... and show that I can do something more than just fuck around. You don't like it, do you? I don't care anymore. Here..." you placed it on the man's table with a crooked smile.

"You can shove it up your ass." you drawled out, before grabbing your things and leaving the place.

"Son of a gun."

"Oh my lord, ..." Iryda said as she heard about your 'little accident' that had happened at Yoongi's apartment. She gave you a cup of tea, still listening you with astonishment, occasionally putting her hands on top of yours, hoping that it will calm you. However, you were like an active volcano- still angry and ready to explode again.

"It was his favorite vase..." your friend mumbled but you just shrugged, sipping the hot drink.

"I don't fucking care."

Iryda leaned back in chair, looking at you with a fatigue in her eyes.

"So you won't attend next class?"

"Nope, I don't want to see that asshole again."

"Ehh, sometimes you're impossible."

She shook his head before starting washing dishes and you felt slightly guilty for making her upset. But after all... it was Yoongi's fault. You just made a little mess there, nothing more.

"I'm going to my parents for few days..."she said.

"I hope you will feel better when I come back.”

The next few days were boring, you missed Iryda and her presence, especially during that 'hard' time when you were at a loss. You were debating if you should apologize to Yoongi or maybe still hold grudges and not concede. The blonde probably hated you even more so you decided (after hours of thinking) that you will just try to forget about the whole thing and busy yourself with work.

You sat down on your bed, tired after cleaning your always messy room. There was so many new paintings but too little space to keep them in one corner so you decided to organize things that were unnecessarily taking up space. You hung them on your walls, mounting in nice frames that matched with the style of your room. Everything looked nice and aesthetically pleasing - you felt refreshed as well, heaviness finally had left your chest.

Pulling out the cigarette, you lit it, smoke filling your nostrils. You breathed out, eyes closed as your face was bathed in an intense orange glow of a sunset that was coming through the window. You could hear the distant sounds of your city and you hummed, delighted by the calm moment.

After several minutes, you got closer to one of your painting, being proud of your work. It presented narcissi (because you were pretty into flowers), the white field meeting with a purple sky on the horizon. Among blossoms there was a man that was picking them up, his bare arms shiny with sweat. He looked distressed and pensive, as if he was lost in that field. You were in love with the sky - such a nostalgic blur of pink, baby blue mixed with deep purple

The next painting showed two sisters. The one on the left side had dark, thick hair and alabaster skin. Her eyes were black like charcoal, staring intensely at you, there was a burning jealousy in them. The girl had strong facial features as if they were carved out of marble, her lips pursed into thin line. However, she was beautiful - hypnotizing and mystery you could say.

Her sister looked like nymph - violet eyes, platinum, shining hair that was braided and slightly flushed skin. She was smiling softly like a pure, innocent angel, the whole posture of a girl was bright and fresh. The blonde looked nostalgic yet romantic as she was in love, infatuated with stranger that was standing in front of her.

The girls were surrounded by raspberry bushes, deeply red fruits resembling blood stains.

You loved the contrast between two girls and mysterious atmosphere which was filling the space. There was something unnatural in that painting that caused you to not throw it and proudly hang it on your wall.

You almost came closer to the next piece of work but all of a sudden you heard doorbell, loud sound reverberated in your apartment. Unexpected guest? Maybe it was Iryda?

The stranger started knocking so you went to your door, opening it with a hint of hesitation. Surprisingly, you saw... Yoongi.

The blonde was nonchalantly standing on the doorstep, his eyes boringly looking at you. Yoongi was wearing white loose t-shirt, black and black, skinny jeans. His bright hair were messy but you found them cute.

"What do you want?" you said coldly, dragging cigarette. Yoongi snorted as if tone of your voice amused him.

"I need to talk to Iryda. Is she here? It's important." he said but you just shook your head, blowing smoke at Yoongi that caused him to frown.

"You are behaving like a bitch. What did I even do to you?"

"What did you just call me?!"

"Y/N I don't want to argue here, is Iryda here?”

“No, she will be back in few days.”

“May I come in?”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking; that was probably something important since Yoongi visited your apartment rarely, usually when you were out. You didn't want to see him but you didn't want Iryda to be mad as well. So, you decided to lean back and mumble quiet -

"Yeah.”

Yoongi sent you a boyish smirk before he entered your apartment, strong cologne filled your nostrils as the blonde crossed threshold.

You followed the man, watching him admiring new works that were hanging on walls. His plump lips were slightly open, eyes scanning every painting with a passion and delight.

"Iryda is so talented..." he whispered and you hummed in response, coming closer to Yoongi, even if your mind was screaming to go back to your safe zone.

"I know right? I love her style. It's so unique and gorgeous. You want to stare at her paintings all day and night and still be not over them. They are just so... beautiful."

Yoongi nodded, his arm brushing against yours, slight touch setting your skin on fire.

Every hair rose and the silence had never been that loud.

"I'm sorry. For words that I said and for things that I did." the words slipped out from your mouth uncontrollably and immediately your cheeks flamed in shame. Your body frizzed and you even thought that maybe you just imagine it but then Yoongi cocked his head, staring at you with a calm facial expression.

"Yeah, I'm sorry too. I was an asshole." he said.

You decided to stub out the cigarette, pressing the tip against the ashtray and watching the rising smoke.

"But you weren't an angel too. You broke my favorite vase."

You snorted and after you had gotten enough guts up, you turned to the boy, meeting with his warm smile that you had never seen before.

"I can buy you a new one. Or do whatever you want."

Okay, the last sentence was kind of risky.

The man laughed dryly.

"Really? Everything?"

"I mean... yeah I guess."

Yoongi brushed away messy strands of his light hair, thinking.

"Everything... hmm, okay. Kiss me and we're okay, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth, shocked by his choice, flames igniting inside of you.

"W-what? No, no! I didn't mean everything like kissing or the like!" you protested but the man shook his head, smiling widely.

"You said: everything. That includes kissing too."

Your heart started beating like a mad; you had always wanted to kiss the man. There was no return then and you didn't have a choice.

"Okay, but don't think that something other will happen uhm between us."

"We will see baby." he sent you a devilish smirk and you groaned, already annoyed by his behavior. However, you felt kind of hot and bothered even if you didn't want to admit it. Yoongi looked incredibly sexy and you tried your best to not stare at his bare collarbones.

After few minutes of silence, you slowly got closer to Yoongi, his hot breath ghosting over your skin. The man was looking at you with a burning desire in his dark eyes. You were about to faint, so close to the blonde that there was no space between you two, his chest touching yours. Growing tension in the room was palpable and the atmosphere became stifling and hot as if there was no air.

Your lips brushed against his moist ones, your movements timid. Yoongi's hand touched your waist, pulling your body to him even more, his tongue starting to explore your mouth.

Yoongi tasted like cherries mixed with some forest fruits, the flavor very sweet, resembling candies. It was almost exaggerated but you liked it anyway, still wanting more. Your fingers sank into his soft blonde lock as you deepened the kiss, Yoongi smirking in response.

The man bit your bottom lip and you whimpered at the slight pain. However, he quickly closed the wound with his wet tongue.

The kiss wasn't enough so you started moving your hips, brushing against his length that started erecting, interested.

"Oh, you little bastard." he laughed dryly at your movements, his mouth travelling down to your artery that was pulsing fast beneath his pink lips. The man started licking your skin then sucking it harshly to create blooming flowers that will cover your neck and show others that you were his. You moaned at the feeling, your nails scratching Yoongi's scalp.

"What about our promise, huh?" you said hoarsely and the man snorted, his hand cupping your breast.

"You don't seem to not enjoy it, am I right or am I right?"

"Ha, you are right."

Yoongi started fondling your ass, while his hand squeezed your other breast, making you moan. He stopped for a moment just to take off his t-shirt, revealing shining with sweat chest, his muscles not exaggerated, just right. You couldn't help but touch his stomach, feeling those carved abs under your fingertips.

"You like it, huh?"

The man pulled off his pants as well and you licked lips at the glorious sight in front of you. You could see outlines of his erect dick and gosh, he seemed to be so big and hard. It made you even more wet.

Your fingers pulled at the waistband of Yoongi's boxers, lashes fluttered coquettishly.

"Someone's already horny." the blonde whispered, nibbling your earlobe. His hand grabbed yours before placing it on the shaft; he was hot, pulsing beneath your palm. You breathed out loudly and the blonde smirked, his tongue licking your collarbone.

"You know what to do, baby doll." his words were like a sharp knife cutting through you and you let out a whimper, needing to rub thighs against each other to get some friction, juices dripping down your legs. He lifted your skirt, fingers playing with your black panties to tease you a little bit. You let out a shameful moan and he smirked. He pressed his thumb on your clitoris, making you tremble, knots tightening in your abdomen. After a while the man slipped your panties off, feeling your wetness coating his fingers that were dancing between your folds.

"C'mon, don't be shy. Play with daddy's cock."

you gulped at his words. The man looked so dominant then that you couldn't just say no.

You gave his dick a light squeeze- not sure if he liked it or not. However, Yoongi immediately groaned after your hesitant movement, his hand grasped your neck, tightening the grip.

"Tighter." he growled, his raspy voice sending tingles to your pussy that was still teased by his fingers.

You did as he told you, slowly starting massaging his dick through the fabric. You earned a low groan and the pre-cum that soaked boxers covered your fingers. It was sticky and warm; you started pumping the length even faster, the man growling like a wolf at time to time, his teeth sinking in your soft skin.

Yoongi pushed his two fingers in your entrance, warmth welcoming his digits as he started stretching you out, sometimes "accidentally" brushing against your spongy g-spot. He scissored them inside of you, giving you even more pleasure. His thumb was doing lazy circles on your clit, pressing it down at time to time and you felt your orgasm coming, familiar flames licking your abdomen, making you squirm.

Yoongi let out a deep groan as he reached his own peak, his hot cum dirtying your fingers but you didn't mind, proud of yourself that you made your art teacher climax. You could see trickles of sweat running down his temples and fatigue in his eyes as he lifted his face to kiss you passionately.

He muffled your moans as you came, wetness splashing out on his hand. Your pussy clenched around his digits, desperately wanting to keep them in and not lose the feeling of fluffiness. Waves of pleasure washed over you and you didn't feel anything but an ecstasy that like a whip lashed your body and left you breathless.

"Oh my lord..." you breathed out, brushing away messy strands of your hair. Yoongi cupped your cheeks before violently crashing his lips into yours and you grabbed his arm, scared of falling down on the floor. His hands were all over your body - gripping your breasts, squeezing your thighs, playing with your ass... He was so hungry and nothing was enough - he wanted more, more, more

"I want to fuck you so hard, Y/N. I can't wait anymore." the blonde whispered, staring intensely at you, like a lion watching his prey.

Instead of responding you gave him a quick peck before grabbing his hand and running to your bedroom.

As you turned to the man, he immediately yanked off your t-shirt, throwing the cloth on the floor. The blonde quickly unclasped your bra (with your little help), immediately kissing your bare skin. His tongue swirled around your hardening nipple and you let out a moan at the feeling.

"Yoongi..." you whimpered and the man smirked, kissing your abdomen. He crouched as he slowly took off your skirt, finally seeing you completely naked.

"Goddess." he murmured with his eyes closed. The man's fingers danced up and down your thighs as his lips were brushing against your hip.

You groaned, starting to get impatient.

"Don't be cheesy and fuck me already." you said, laying on the bed. Yoongi snorted; the man shook his head but didn't say anything. He kissed your knee, spreading your legs, the man breathing out at the sight of your wet pussy, your folds already swollen after your first orgasm that night. The blonde wanted to lick you, taste those leaked juices that seemed to be delicious. However, he decided to just fuck you properly and wait for the next opportunity of eating you out.

You pulled out a condom and give it to Yoongi that smirked suggestively at the shining wrapper.

"What? Don't you know "Wrap it before you tap it" ?" you said and Yoongi burst into laughter while putting on a condom.

"Yeah, I know. Safety first."

Yoongi leaned down, his hands sinking into soft mattress. His warm tip brushed against your sensitive entrance and you tried your best to not moan again.

"Ahh, babe you feel so fucking good around me." he whispered, pushing into you, his limbs shaking. At the beginning the stretch was kind of uncomfortable but you quickly got used to it. He was big and hard, you could feel him pulsing as he was about to explode again. Your tight walls were embracing Yoongi's length deliciously, his cock brushing against your delicate area.

The blonde bit your earlobe as he started pumping harder, letting out a low grunts with every powerful thrust. The sound of a skin against the skin mixed with your own moans filled the room, Yoongi's heavy breathing ghosting over your neck. You brought your hands to his back, running your fingers down either side of the man's back, feeling tensed muscles. You sank your nails in the soft skin of the blonde to give yourself some support as Yoongi thrusted almost violently, trying to reach his own peak desperately.

"Oh god..." he groaned, grabbing your leg and lifting it up so he could thrust even deeply. The blonde attached his lips to your neck, sucking harshly and he felt your hips jerked, searching for your high.

Yoongi's hand travelled down to flick your bud between his fingers and you cried out, hot tears running down your cheeks. It was too much, you couldn't feel anything but the painful pleasure. Your toes curled and your thighs were trembling as your orgasm was getting closer, setting you on fire.

"Yoongi!" you screamed, every muscle tensing up as you came. Yoongi followed you, climaxing right after you with a low grunt. The blonde's weight dropped onto you, but you were too tired to complain, slightly scratching his scalp. The silence filled the space and the last thing that you remembered was Yoongi's calm breathing which lulled you to sleep.

"Good Morning, beautiful." you heard a deep voice purring next to your ear that immediately woke you up. As you opened your puffy eyes, you saw Yoongi smiling brightly, his hand cupping your cheek lovingly. His hair was wet and the man was wearing one of your jumpers that looked very cute on him.

"I made a breakfast for you." he said and you propped yourself on elbows to see pancakes and croissants with raspberries placed on tray.

"Thank you." you gave him a quick peck, fingers interlacing with his. You still couldn't believe that actual Min Yoongi was sitting next to you, wearing your clothes and smiling like an angel. Maybe that was just a silly dream?

As you started eating breakfast, the blonde cleared his throat, before speaking. His cheeks slightly flushed.

“Your paintings are amazing, I love all of them. They are very beautiful and mystic. I thought that they belong to Iryda but then I saw your signature in corner. I was surprised, but now I'm just so fucking happy that you do what you love, even if I told you that it's not for you. I'm sorry." he said but you just shook your head.

"Nah, it's okay. I forgive you."

The blonde suddenly stood up, grabbing his folder. He pulled out your work, smiling softly. Your eyes widened, your jaw dropped.

"I think you forgot something. I want it to be here, it's yours after all."

It was your painting of Irises.

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