Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/7041067. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character Death Category: M/M Fandom: 방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS Relationship: Min_Yoongi_|_Suga/Park_Jimin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster/Kim_Seokjin_| Jin, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Park_Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V Character: Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Jeon_Jungkook, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Taehyung_|_V Additional Tags: Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Kings_&_Queens, Anal_Sex, Sexual_Abuse, Angst, Smoking, Breathplay, Master/Pet, Fluff, very_slow_build, Minor Character_Death, Homophobic_Language, Implied/Referenced_Suicide, Unhealthy_Relationships, Past_Prostitution, Slow_beginning Stats: Published: 2016-05-31 Updated: 2016-08-14 Chapters: 29/? Words: 40280 ****** Royals and Roses (***HIATUS***) ****** by butterfliesforbts_(JuliaClaireLove) Summary We are but mere pawns in Fate's twisted game of life, and her sister Destiny is folding the cards. or a medieval AU where Yoongi has daddy issues, Jimin doesn't believe in love, Namjoon has doubts about himself and his arranged marriage to Seokjin, Hoseok isn't what he seems, Jungkook is a wild card and Taehyung is a broken healer. ***moved back to a single work (previously known as Suit of Clubs: Breathe Me In) ***** Ace of Clubs ***** Yoongi loved running down to the river. It was far from the stifling air of the palace and the arid smoke that lingered about the village. Even better, his little area of the waters was secluded, a bend in the river where the grassy fields met the forest, where the rapids slowed to a pleasant current, and there was just enough shade from the trees. It was his own place. Being the crown prince, he never had any privacy. Whether his tutor with the drone of a bumblebee, his father always breathing down his neck, his doting mother, or that wretched nanny, there was always someone invading his space. No doubt his mother meant well, but his father would never shut up about his "duties as future king." As for the nanny, Yoongi was indignant at the fact that his parents thought he needed one. He was eleven, for god's sake! Nonetheless, it was easy enough to pay one of the peasant kids to wear his cloak and cause some havoc in the streets for a bit. Just so he could have some peace and quiet. And peace and quiet he had. Yoongi undid his belt and removed his outer shirt, shoes, and leggings, leaving him in his tunic. It was a nice day outside; the sun was not yet at its peak, but it's warm rays permeated the air. A slight breeze wafted through the trees, mussing Yoongi's platinum blond hair. He sat on a small outcropping that jutted out from underneath the largest tree. His legs swung below him, the tips of his toes just brushing the surface of the water. Yoongi closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. The serenity of the moment was cut by the rustling of feet. Yoongi blinked in the sunlight and found his gaze drawn towards a small boy barreling down the hillside. He watched as the boy slipped on a patch of grass and slid into the water. Yoongi scrambled to his feet and ran over to the boy, lifting him up as he yelped and thrashed in the water. Despite this, Yoongi managed to get the boy onto the riverbank, if not sopping wet. "God, kid!" Yoongi admonished, "you could have drowned!" "But I didn't!" The boy flashed a toothy grin (that was missing a few teeth), tousling his mop of black hair. From afar, Yoongi didn't notice how scrawny the kid was. His limbs were stick- thin, and his face would be gaunt if not for the baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. His aforementioned mop of hair was indeed a mop, it looked greasy and matted, and his face was coated with a layer of grime. He was clothed in a sack with ragged holes cut for the arms and head. The boy was definitely a peasant. The boy wrung out as much of the water as he could from his clothes, then stuck out his hand to Yoongi. "I'm Jimin." His bright brown eyes disappeared into lines as he smiled up at him. "Yoongi," he replied, shaking the hand. "I knew that," the boy, Jimin, quipped. "You've got the weird hair thing going on." Oh right, Yoongi thought. The royal family all sported the white-blond hair that made them noticeable to all around them. It was quite a contrast from the black-brown hair of their people, Yoongi noted, as Jimin splashed his face in the river. "What are you doing here?" Yoongi prompted. He was curious. Why was a peasant boy barging in on his private place? Jimin stood, looking over the vast expanse of forest, with much more depth in his gaze than a boy his age would. "Oh, I found this place awhile ago. Whenever Mama told me to go away, I'd come here." "Told you to go away?" "Yeah, whenever Mr. Cheong comes to our room, she tells me to go away, so I leave through the window. Once, I didn't go fast enough, and a weird man came in. I hid in the closet, and there were a lot of weird noises." "Oh." Realization settled on Yoongi. Jimin's mother worked in Cheong Junseo's brothel. He'd heard his father talking about it with his advisers before. "Yeah. I don't have many friends at home, because all the kids are younger than me, but it's okay. I like being down here more." Jimin glanced at Yoongi with a playful grin in his eyes. "What do you do in your free time, Yoongi-hyung?" Yoongi almost flinches at the honorific. He'd never been called that before, and it felt odd. "Not much. Anyway, I don't think you'd find it interesting." "Please, I'm eight! I'm sure I can understand," Jimin followed Yoongi back to the outcropping, sitting down next to him, crisscross applesauce. Yoongi sighed. He never would get rid of this kid. "Well, I read. I practice sword fighting, but honestly, I hate that. I like to go down to the cathedral and listen to the choir--" "Really?!" Jimin perks up. "I sing in the choir!" "You do?" "Well, whenever I can get away from the house. The choir director, Kunwoo-nim, likes me. Sometimes he helps me sing by myself." Jimin beams. "Anyway, continue." Yoongi groans internally. "There's not much else. I don't really do anything interesting." "Well that's boring." "You think?" ***** Two of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes It had been awhile since Yoongi had ventured outside the palace. Since his father's death and his own coronation, there's simply been too much to do. His advisers hounded him, convinced that twenty one was much too young to run the kingdom. Yoongi had shut them all up quickly, and had been running it practically by himself for two years. After being in the palace for such a long time, Yoongi decided to visit his people. He had turned down the royal carriage and garb, opting for a simple tunic and leggings and his worn boots, with only a gold pin signifying his rank. His snow-white hair made him stand out enough. Yoongi was pleasantly surprised with what he found. Children ran up to him as he exited the palace gates. Their faces were full and they were clothed well, and their parents smiled from their homes and shops. Yoongi's new policies and law enforcement kept the economy strong and the society wholesome. He'd purchased a small loaf of bread from the baker and shared it with the children that tagged along his side. The smoky fires were redirected straight to the sky with newly installed chimneys, and Yoongi contentedly breathed the fresher air. This was nice. The pleasant air dropped as Yoongi approached a different corner of town. The kids ran back to their parents, and the atmosphere was considerably more sinister. These were the slums of the town, which, sadly, Yoongi had not come around to renovating yet. His bodyguards came closer to his sides as Yoongi walked down the street. Faces stared at him through doorways and windows, dirty, melancholy, and empty. What little children he saw were thin and gaunt, unlike the smiling kids he'd been socializing with moments ago. Yoongi breathed shakily as he continued further in. As he passed a small alley between two buildings, grunts and pained whimpers met his ear. Yoongi halted and peered into the shadowy place. There were harsh mutters and figures rushed past him into the street. Yoongi's bodyguard grabbed his wrist, but Yoongi took no heed and stepped inside. There was a small form huddled on the ground. It was a man, albeit a man who looked barely out of his teens. His tunic was ripped, and pushed up, exposing his thighs. Yoongi didn't want to think about what the men that had passed him were up to just moments ago. The man turned his head. Deep brown eyes beneath heavy eyelids, full, pink lips, and cheeks that held some small semblance of a full smile. The familiar face made Yoongi feel eleven again. "Jimin?" Jimin's dull eyes just barely held traces of recognition. "Yoongi-hyung?" he rasped, his throat raw. "Oh my god," Yoongi crouched, helping Jimin stand, and having him lean on his shoulder. "Come on, I'm taking you back to the castle." Yoongi waved to one of his bodyguards. "Send for the carriage!" The royal carriage met them at the edge of the seedy neighbourhood, and Yoongi practically lifted Jimin into the seat. Jimin seemed lighter than he had when Yoongi pulled him out of the river so long ago, and Yoongi could feel every rib against his hands. Jimin rested his head on Yoongi's shoulder, and Yoongi draped his abandoned cloak over his trembling form. It was still late summer, yet Jimin would not stop shivering. As the carriage began to move, Yoongi turned so he was facing Jimin, and Jimin shifted so his forehead rested on Yoongi's chest. "What were you doing there, Jiminnie?" Jimin huffed weakly. "What do you think?" Yoongi sighed. "Why are you still at that terrible place? I told you, you could come to the palace, bring your mo--" "No." Jimin somehow began shaking even more, and drew the cloak tighter about his shoulders. "I wouldn't want to just take charity from you. And what's it to you? It's not like you've been there all this time. And my m--" Jimin choked, and Yoongi felt tears dripping onto his shirt. "Shh... Okay.. Okay, I'm sorry," he said, wrapping his arms around Jimin as he cried. When they reached the palace, Yoongi carried Jimin up to one of the guest rooms in the highborn wing. It's near Yoongi's own chambers, so he feels safe with Jimin there. He laid Jimin on the bed, and sent one of the maids for the palace physician. When Yoongi returned his gaze to Jimin, he was sitting up, looking about the room, still clutching the cloak between his fingers. "Hyung.. I can't be here," Yoongi took in Jimin's panicked eyes as they flicked across the room. "I don't... belong here." Yoongi walked toward him. "Please, Jimin. Just for a bit. I couldn't live with myself if I just let you go back there." "You've been living with yourself pretty damn well for the past four years." "Jimin.. I'm sorry, for that. I know it hurt and I know that you don't deserve what I did to you, but, please. Just let me do what I can to try and make it up to you." Yoongi sat down on the bed and finally got a good look at Jimin. His once lively eyes were hollow and dull, and his cheeks were sunken in. His neck was riddled with hickeys and marks, and a dark hand-shaped bruise that Yoongi didn't want to think about. His skin was grimy and there were cuts peeking through the holes in his tunic. "Yoongi--" He looked up, and found Jimin looking at him with sadness clouding his eyes. "Please don't look at me like that. It makes me feel like a kicked puppy." Yoongi nodded. He was about to speak, to ask more, when Taehyung, the physician, arrived at the door. Yoongi stood outside for the examination, and waited for Taehyung's report. Taehyung returned about fifteen minutes with an unreadable expression. "Well?" Yoongi inquired, impatient. "Ah, there's no emergency injuries--" Yoongi breathed with relief, "--but my two concerns are the fact that his throat is severely bruised, I suppose from strangulation, and that there is evidence that someone forced themselves on him multiple times." Yoongi's heart sank. "Thank you, Tae." Taehyung returned to the infirmary, leaving Yoongi to ponder the diagnosis. At this, rage and worry coursed through Yoongi's veins, and he reentered the room. He found Jimin in the bath. Yoongi supposed the physician had put some muscle relaxants and topical pain relievers in the water, because Jimin's face looked less pained, if not by a small margin. His eyes were closed, and the thick foam of bubbles reached to just below the dip of his collarbone. It wasn't like the two hadn't seen each other naked before, but Yoongi was thankful for the bubbles. Jimin's hair was wet, and he had his arms draped on the sides of the tub, his head lazily lolling behind him to rest on the edge of the porcelain rim. This only accentuated the ring of bruises surrounding the column of his neck. Yoongi cleared his throat. "So... Do you want to talk about it?" Chapter End Notes i have a habit of using poorly written cliffhangers. sorry ***** Three of Clubs ***** Yoongi was fifteen when he first saw Jimin cry. He was waiting by the river with a sack full of berries stolen from the royal kitchens, waiting for Jimin to meet him. They always had fun together. Yoongi would bring snacks, and a little extra for Jimin to bring home to his mother. They would eat, and they would play. No words could explain how Yoongi's heart filled with joy when he saw Jimin bounding over the crest of the hill. He felt free with Jimin. No classes to worry about, no condescending gazes from his father, no thick, stifling royal clothes. Just the two boys, having fun. It was Jimin who taught Yoongi how to climb a tree (though Yoongi could not quite figure it out. The many bumps and scrapes along his arms and legs attested to that). Yoongi taught Jimin how to swim in the river. Jimin had had no qualms about splashing around nude, but the flustered Yoongi insisted on bringing two extra sets of leggings to protect their modesty. Jimin had laughed at him. Jimin was always laughing or smiling, and in the rare moments that he wasn't, there was an ever-present twinkle in his eye that Yoongi hoped would never fade. Except, one day, when it did. Yoongi caught sight of his friend on the hill. The first thing he noticed was how Jimin wasn't running, or skipping, or jumping. He was slowly walking along, dragging his feet. As he came closer, Yoongi glimpsed a sheen of wetness on his cheeks as the sun glinted off them. Yoongi left the berries and met Jimin at the base of the hill, placing his hands on the younger's shoulders, staring down at him with worry. Jimin's face was tilted down, and his long fringe fell over his eyes. "Jiminnie?" Jimin slowly lifted his head. A bright red mark stood out against the pale skin of his cheek, marring his youthful features. His left cheekbone was swollen, and a deep purple bruise was just beginning to form. His eyes were puffy and red. Yoongi saw a glaze of tears over his eyes before Jimin's face was buried in his shoulder.     Yoongi was so close to barricading Jimin's door and windows and stationing ten guards outside of each. Why couldn't he just rest for god's sake! The first time, Jimin was found collapsed on the cobblestone walkway in the entrance of the palace. The next, with his windows opened and dangling on a rope of bedsheets halfway down the castle wall. And most recently, he was caught next to a partly-cut hole in the hedge that surrounded the gardens. Taehyung would admonish him, saying that his windpipe can't take the strain he puts on it by moving around so often. Jimin never listened, obviously. He hated being cooped up in the palace. Yoongi was currently waiting in Jimin's room, with two plates of food, as Jimin was in the infirmary with Taehyung (Tae was trying out a new type of steaming therapy on Jimin, to help ease the roughness of his breathing). So Yoongi waited patiently for Jimin to return. He hadn't spoken to Jimin much since the day he brought him here. Jimin seemed... Closed off. Like he had walls built around himself that didn't want to come down. He hadn't revealed much the that day, either. After his initial reactions dissipated, so did his emotional expressions. What little he said to Yoongi came in short, clipped sentences, and they held almost no information at all. All Yoongi could decipher was that Jimin was in the same business as his mother. As for his mother, Jimin said little to none about her as well. His eyes had welled up a bit, but nothing fell. Yoongi had never met her, but he knew how much she meant to Jimin. Yoongi's thoughts were interrupted when the bedroom door opened, and Jimin walked in. Yoongi saw a flash of Taehyung's dirty-blond hair before the door closed. Yoongi patted the chair beside him. "I brought your food," he said, gesturing to the plates laid out on the small table. Jimin's face was unreadable. "Thank you." He sat, and began eating. The silent tension wrapped around Yoongi's neck like a noose, and his appetite disappeared. He sat there in silence as Jimin ate, for what seemed like endless hours. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Jimin, could you please talk to me? I can't stand this. We were such good friends, and I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit, but please..." Yoongi's small plea dangled off into the silence. No answer. Both sadness and indignity rose up inside Yoongi, and he was determined to sit there until Jimin spoke to him. He'd follow him around, pester him, plead with him-- "Tell me." Yoongi was startled by Jimin's sudden words. "How would you feel when one day, your best friend just disappears?" Jimin's voice was harsh and bitter. "You go down to the river, and, he's not there. You think 'Oh, maybe he's sick or busy.' But no. He just disappeared." His eyes were still trained on his half-eaten plate, and he nudges the food around, getting more agitated as he speaks. "No warning. Just gone." He finally lifted his eyes, his sad, dull brown gaze suddenly piercingly sharp. "How would you feel when he doesn't come back for four years? And then, four--" he stood and hurled his utensils at the table, "- -fucking years later, he comes back. Acts all proper and gentlemanly," Jimin's voice is hard and mocking. "And expects you to forgive him just like that?" He snapped his fingers. He bent down, and Yoongi could feel his hot, raggedy breaths against his face. "Tell me. Hyung. Now does that sound fair to you?" "Jimin, I'm sorry, I--" "Sorry my fucking ass." Yoongi should have expected the hit, but he's still taken aback when Jimin's hand slapped across his cheek. Yoongi pressed his hand to it and winced. Jimin was pacing now, anger clearly visible in his features and actions. He points an accusing finger at the king. "You left me. You abandoned me. And you want me to just forgive you? As if you just 'forgot?'" Yoongi was ashamed that he was too afraid to answer. Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. "I went through hell after you were gone. You know? Those were the times when I needed you. Those were the times, when your little royal powers could have done me some good." Yoongi sat there, still frozen as Jimin turned his head and stormed out the door. ***** Four of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes ***WARNING*** The beginning section of this chapter contains a graphic depiction of rape. Read with caution, and if you may be triggered, just skip the italicized section. As the sun fell to sleep below the horizon, its rays of light gradually dimmed, bringing the darkness of night upon the village. Jimin cursed as he slipped down the hill for what seemed like the millionth time. The grass was slippery enough, but now he could barely see where he was stepping. By the time he had reached the outskirts of the village, the quiet solemnity of night blanketed the town. Well, solemn would not be the correct word to use... Here. Jimin knew about the shady deals and happenings that occurred in his area of town, most especially at nightfall. He passed from alleyways to behind posts to alongside buildings, making sure to keep himself hidden. He'd heard stories of people who'd been caught late at night. He didn't want to be one of them. Something rustled from across the street. Jimin flinched and quickly ducked into an alleyway. His heart was pounding in his chest, and anxiety built up in his throat. He forced himself to take the quietest breaths he could, though his body was begging to hyperventilate. Jimin felt as if he might pass out. He sat down against the wall of the alleyway, slowly trying to calm his nerves and breathing. He shut his eyes, and thought about what Yoongi-hyung had taught him. Breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. In for four Hold for seven Out for eight Four Seven Eight Gradually, his pulse decreased, though his breathing would still become erratic if he didn't pay attention. Deciding to wait for a bit, Jimin returned his mind to Yoongi. He missed his hyung. A lot. It had been six weeks since they last met at the river. Jimin had been there after the fact, but Yoongi never showed up. His mother had tried to console him, but it didn't quite set in for Jimin yet. Almost every day, he returned to the bend in the river, sat on the outcropping beneath the tree, and waited. He waited for hours at a time. Mother tried to tell him that Yoongi probably wouldn't be coming back, but Jimin could not accept that. His hyung wouldn't just.. Leave him like that.. Would he? Today, Jimin had lost track of time. He had fallen asleep next to the riverbank, the warm glow of the afternoon sun bathing his skin. But now, as the cold chill of the incoming winter became more prominent, Jimin wished he'd worn warmer clothes. He shivered. His breathing finally stable, he decided it was time to go, and peeked out into the street. By now, his eyes were somewhat adjusted, and he managed to pick out the hut where he and the other children slept while the mothers worked. The idea of his mother's work still left a sour taste in Jimin's mouth. He loved his mom. She was still young and beautiful, only fourteen years his senior, and he was saddened at the fact that this was the only way their little family could eat. His mother could have done so much more, but Jimin knew that it was because of his birth that she was shamed. Jimin scanned the street one more time. He began to make his way into the street, not noticing the figure behind him, that yanked him back into the alleyway. Jimin panicked, thrashing and screaming, but the arms holding him were strong, and a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth muffled his voice. He found himself pushed onto his back at the end of the alleyway, and the figure, the man above him, had his legs and wrists pinned to the ground. "Hey there, pretty boy," the man rasped. "What's a little doll like you doing out here at night?" Jimin struggled to release his limbs, but the man's grip was tight. He protested against the gag, but the man took no heed to his noises. One hand kept both of Jimin's immobile, while the other wandered down Jimin's torso. The hem of his tunic was lifted, exposing his thin, bony chest. Jimin felt a pinch at his nipple and yelped in distress. He heard a deep chuckle, and felt the hand begin to undo the laces of his leggings. Jimin squeezed his eyes shut and prayed, Please, please, God, no. His leggings were pulled down, and Jimin felt a shudder as the hand wrapped around his cock. It stroked him, and Jimin was disgusted to find himself reacting to the rough touch. He couldn't hold back a moan as lips attached to his neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spot just below his jawline. "Yeah, you like that, you little whore, don't you?" Tears blurred Jimin's vision as the man's words met his ears. His body was enjoying this torture. Jimin fixed his eyes on the stars above him, praying that this would end soon. He felt something curl in the base of his belly, the the hand was gone and Jimin let out an involuntary whimper. His gaze remained on the sky, not wanting to see the defilement of his body, not wanting to acknowledge it when-- "AUGH!" Jimin screamed against the gag as the man forced himself inside him. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt! It was a sharp, burning pain, that never seemed to end, as the man began thrusting against him. Filthy sounds of skin hitting skin echoed across the alleyway. Tears were streaming down Jimin's face now, and he could hear the man grunting against his ear. The pain seemed to go on for hours. Suddenly, the man groaned, and Jimin felt something liquid shoot inside him. The man stood and laced his pants. "Thanks for the fuck, whore." Jimin just lay there as he walked away. He could feel the fluids seeping down his thighs. Jimin spat out the gag, but couldn't find the strength to move anymore. He just stared. Up at the stars. Up into oblivion. Mother always told him never to stay out past dark. Jimin was tired. He was always tired. The simple movements of getting up and walking exhausted him. His throat burned after just minutes of mild aerobics. Because of this, he had finally succumbed to Yoongi's pleading, staying within the castle walls and abandoning his attempts to escape. He was in the infirmary again, to undergo the steaming therapy Taehyung had come up with. No matter how much Jimin would complain about the recurrent hassle, it was no lie that it did to wonders to his hoarse throat. Taehyung was preparing the blend of water and essences for the steaming as Jimin waited on the cot. It was such an odd feeling, to be doted on and cared for so diligently. The last person to do so, was his mom. Jimin breathed slowly. He knew that crying would cause his throat to choke up, and Taehyung already had enough on his hands. He managed to calm down before Taehyung walked over to him, the bowl of hot liquid sloshing around in his hand. The bowl was set down next to Jimin on the cot. Careful hands examined his neck, being careful to avoid the bruises, which were slowly healing. Taehyung pressed a hollow cone to Jimin's chest, and listened to the sound of his breathing. Taehyung pulled back, satisfied. "Not too bad. You're healing pretty nicely." He stirred the bowl one last time before handing it to Jimin. "We won't have to go too long this time." Jimin nodded, taking the bowl and hovering his face over it. He breathed deeply, like Taehyung had instructed him to. The steam filled his lungs, spreading a warm feeling through his body. It was soothing, and his throat did feel considerably better. "Don't you have any other patients?" Jimin inquires, still hunched over the bowl. "It seems like all you do is take care of me." Taehyung laughed. "I haven't had many patients since the new sanitation laws were introduced, and since that new cook took over." He began fussing with the many bottles and other bits lining his shelves. "You should have see what it was like with the old one. Food poisoning everywhere!" Jimin chuckled. "And you're not the only cute boy I take care of," Taehyung teased. "Oh, I thought I was special." It was sort of useless to fake-pout, as his head was angled down, but Jimin did it anyway. "Always the charmer." Taehyung giggled and leaned back against the wall. "His name's Jungkook. He's an apprentice to the royal swordsmaker. Though," Taehyung, remembering something, went back to looking through the shelves, "he's not quite good yet. He keeps coming back to our dorm with cuts and scrapes everywhere." He picked out a clear vial and a roll of bandages and set them aside. "Such an apprentice." Jimin laughed. "Speaking of which, aren't you really young to be a physician? You look as old as me." "I probably am." Taehyung faced him. "My dad was the old physician, and I helped him out all the time. He was trying to pick an apprentice, but he died before he could." "Oh. I'm sorry." "It's okay. A little after Yoongi-hyung became king, he and the advisers decided it would be fine if I took over. Especially with the whole food poisoning thing." Taehyung chuckled to himself. Jimin laughed softly as well, but he heard Taehyung hesitate. He knew of Jimin's line of work, obviously, and probably didn't want to pry. Jimin was thankful for that. There was a quiet pause. "The water's cooled down," Jimin lifted his head, holding out the bowl to Taehyung. The physician took it, pouring the leftover contents into a bottle. He wiped his hands on a cloth. "I'll take you back to your room, if that's alright." "Okay." "No, Hoseok. I can't do that." "With all due respect, your Majesty, I truly believe that this is the best option." "Isolating my kingdom is the best option?" "It's not isolation, just reinforcing the barriers. Your capital is flourishing, but the outer cities are weak." "Hoseok, I have been lenient with the border security near those towns because I want to be open to other nations. Multiculturalism is what helps civilization move forward." "Your Majesty--" Yoongi had enough. "Lord Hoseok, you are dismissed." Hoseok bit back a snarky comment. "Yes, your Majesty." He bent stiffly and left. Yoongi huffed. Running a country was hard enough without his advisers breathing down his neck. He stared down at his map of the area. It was engraved on a raised stone platform, and was so large it took up a fairly sized portion of the council room. The frustrated king strode over to the balcony. He undid the top of his shirt, freeing his neck and upper chest, and rested his hands on the edge of the balcony. The brisk spring air nipped at his exposed skin, but he didn't care. Yoongi was not a hot-blooded person; some would say he was the exact opposite, one of the traits that made him an effective and likeable king. But god, his advisers were fraying his nerves. He looked out over the gardens of the palace. Dainty white buds were beginning to bloom on the hedge, and the blossoms lining the pathways radiated beauty and color. Yoongi's mother was taking a walk there. She'd stop by a tree or flower now and then, and admire. The sight left a pang in Yoongi's heart. He remembered when his father first unveiled this project to her. It was a beautiful gift. But now, it was the only thing that reminded her of her husband. Yoongi sighed. His relationship with her was difficult, to say the least. She always supported his father, even when she knew it was too much for the young prince to handle. But she still loved him, and took care of him, and in return, he had given her, what? Yoongi wanted to make it up to her, but he couldn't quite figure out how. The door opened. "Your Majesty?" Yoongi turned. "Oh, Jimin." "Your Majesty, I just wanted to apologize for snapping at you the other day. I'm sincerely sorry." Jimin said softly, still hovering at the door. "It's okay, Jimin-ah, I forgive you." Jimin bowed. "Thank you, your Majesty." He began to close the door behind him. "Jimin!" Yoongi called. Jimin paused for a moment. Yoongi continued, "Call me 'hyung,' okay?" Jimin stayed still for a bit, but left, without an answer. ***** Five of Clubs ***** "Yoongi-hyung!" Yoongi froze. He hid the bag of food he was holding under the loose fabric of his cloak, and turned to face the speaker. "Oh, hey there, Hobi." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Whatcha doing there?" Hoseok inquired, looking over Yoongi's form where his hands disappeared beneath his cloak, unusually draped over one shoulder. Hoseok was far too curious, in Yoongi's opinion. "Ah, I'm just going for a walk." "Uh huh." Hoseok was only a year younger than him, so it was reasonable for him to have an idea of what Yoongi was up to. He leaned in to Yoongi's ear. "Hyung, if you were going out to meet a secret lover, you could just ask me. I know a place where you can have the best time with anyone." Yoongi flushed red. "I-I'll pass. Bye Hoseok." He walked away as quickly as he could, holding his burning face down. Yoongi didn't know how he'd ever be able to deal with Hoseok. He was the son of his father's main adviser, and was being trained to be Yoongi's own when he became king. God. Every decision he'd make would most likely be criticized by Hoseok. Yoongi shivered at the thought. His face was still red with embarrassment from Hoseok's racy comment. It wasn't as if he hadn't had thoughts like that before, he was eighteen, after all, but he'd never had thoughts about Jimin. Well, it was no lie that his best friend was exceptionally good-looking, and he was so sweet and kind, with a big heart and such a cute smile and-- Yoongi immediately stopped his train of thought. He couldn't be thinking like this now, not when he was going to meet said good-looking, kind best friend with a cute smile. Yoongi had to catch his breath as he caught a glimpse of Jimin sitting on the outcropping. His feet were dangling in the water, and Yoongi could hear his sweet lilting voice humming some church tune. As he drew closer, he could see the afternoon sun creating a beautiful halo of light in Jimin's hair. Yoongi tried to ignore the pulsation of his heart as Jimin's eyes lit up upon seeing him. "Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin smiled gleefully, throwing his arms around him. While he was exceptionally talented at giving bear hugs, Yoongi could still feel the apparent boniness of Jimin's arms. "Jiminnie!" Yoongi breathed, hugging him back and apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry I'm late, I was delayed by Hobi, I've told you how he is--" "That's okay," Jimin said, pulling back. The sunbeams shining on them transformed the warm brown of Jimin's irises to a brilliant gold. Yoongi had to suppress an "awwe" as said eyes disappeared, as Jimin broke into a smile once again. "You're here now." Yoongi held his gaze, but when it felt like it had been going on for a moment too long, he turned away, bringing out the bag tucked against his arm. "I brought this for you and your mom." Jimin took the bag and opened it. His eyes widened as he looked over the contents. "Hyung, you didn't have to do this!" Yoongi smiled as Jimin sat back down, picking up and examining every bit of food: a few slices of beef wrapped in leaves, a full loaf of bread, two apples, and a piece of (lightly crushed) cake. He took a seat next to him. "I wanted to. Besides, there were a lot of leftovers from the party anyway." Jimin glanced up playfully. "Party? But the only time you ever go to parties is when--" His mouth gaped and he embraced Yoongi in another bone-crushing hug. "Yoongi! You didn't tell me it was your birthday!" "I sort of hoped you'd forget. I didn't want you to get me anything." Yoongi blushed. "You're insufferable." Jimin chuckled, ruffling his hair. He held his gaze once again. "Thank you, hyung." Yoongi patted Jimin's back. "My pleasure, Jiminnie." He tried desperately to calm the fluttering in his stomach, but with Jimin there, looking at him so sweetly, his best friend, the best person he'd ever met... It was no use. Maybe Hoseok was right. Jimin was startled by the sudden hustle and bustle of the castle. People that he'd never seen before were suddenly materializing, scrubbing the floors, dusting the floors, yelling across the halls, frantically brushing past him. He found Taehyung in one of the halls, who started pushing him back towards his room. "The nervous energy might make you hyper ventilate," he reasoned. There was another person trailing behind Taehyung as he tugged Jimin up towards the guest quarters. It wasn't until Jimin was safely on the bed did he get a proper introduction. Taehyung was examining Jimin's neck again before he suddenly stood upright. "Oh I forgot!" He turned to the mystery boy. "Kookie, this is Jimin." Jimin reached out and shook his hand. "Pleasure." "And Jimin," Taehyung continued, "This is my boy, Jeongguk." "Aish, Tae, I told you to stop calling me that." Jeongguk said, exasperated. "I know," Taehyung singsonged, "but it's so cute when you get frustrated," he giggled, nuzzling against his shoulder. Jeongguk nudged him away, aware of Jimin's flushed face. Jeongguk definitely looked like a swordsmaker. Muscles rippled under the skin of his arms, and his broad shoulders dwarfed Taehyung's own wiry figure. Although, his wide eyes and overall babyface made him look a bit like an overgrown baby. Jimin stifled a laugh. He didn't dare to mention that; the guy could probably snap him in half. Jimin cleared his throat, not quite used to PDA. "If you don't mind me asking, what's going on in the palace?" In the weeks that he'd been there, there had never been such an influx of activity. "The King of Sule is coming to visit for a council with Yoongi-hyung. He's staying for a few days, so they want to make sure that the entire palace is as clean as possible," Taehyung answered, still leaning against Jeongguk's shoulder. "Uh huh." "Which is also probably why those are laid out for you," Taehyung said, pointing at the clothes lying on the bed, which Jimin had not noticed. "Oh," Jimin looked over the clothes. They looked like the royal garbs, much too fancy for him. "Jimin?" The three looked up. The door was ajar, and Yoongi was peeking in. "Oh. Er, Jimin, get dressed and meet me in the throne room. You guys too," he added quickly, before closing the door. Jimin awkwardly lifted up one arm of the impossibly intricate shirt, and was about to ask the two to leave before Yoongi interrupted again. "Oh and Taehyung," he said, a frustrated look on his face, "please don't make out with Jeongguk at the banquet." "No promises," Taehyung snickered, before grabbing Jeongguk's face and kissing him. Yoongi let out a forceful sigh and left. "Tae," Jeongguk broke the kiss, "we have to go." Taehyung pouted, "Okay. Bye Jiminnie! See you at the banquet!" Jimin saw an apologetic look cross Jeongguk's face before the couple disappeared behind the door. He seemed like a nice guy. Jimin almost felt sorry for him, with Taehyung's overexcitedness and inability to keep his hands off him. But still, they were the nicest couple Jimin had ever met. He got up, and began undoing the laces of his clothing. He averted his eyes from the mirror; he knew he'd only see a discolored mess of a body. The black leggings hugged his thighs but were surprisingly quite comfortable. It was an odd feeling to slip into the red silk tunic, as it brushed along his skin with a softness that he'd never felt before. He fastened the belt around his waist, and finally pulled on the thick, ornate outer shirt. The interior was just as soft as the tunic, and the exterior was a deep black velvet with red and gold embroidery. It had a high collar that covered the bruises on his throat, which Jimin was thankful for. He clasped the front of the shirt together and pinned the cloak to the tops of his shoulders. Jimin forced himself to look in the mirror. "Wow..." He looked... Like a royal. The color scheme of crimson, black, and gold complimented the paleness of his skin and brought out the warmth in his eyes. He looked good. The only thing that could distinguish him from a real highborn was the way that he held his head: bowed, like a peasant. Why would Yoongi have him dress like this? Well, it was a royal banquet... But why would Jimin be expected to be there? He wasn't a royal. He continued to ponder over this for a few minutes. Maybe he shouldn't go. Maybe he should just stay here, and eat his dinner in his room like normal. His musings were cut short by a knock at the door and a familiar voice. "Jimin? You ready?" Jimin exhaled shakily. "Yes, your Majesty." Jimin could almost feel the sadness that would cross Yoongi's features at Jimin's use of the formal title. The door opened once again. Yoongi stood there, looking as stunning as ever, in similar red, black, and gold attire, accompanied by the pin with the Min family crest over his breast, and a simple gold circlet atop his head, a ruby adorning the center. He held out his elbow to Jimin, like a proper gentleman. Jimin tried to ignore the heat that arose in his cheeks, and hesitantly took Yoongi's arm. "Let's go." ***** Six of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Knock knock.     Jimin's chest would sink with dread every time a hard fist rapped against his door. Then he'd sigh, open the door with a smile, and try his damned best to look sexy. Soon after he'd been dragged into the business, he had learned that responding and (God forbid) moaning made it more likely that he would be treated like a human being (and hopefully given a tip), and less likely that he'd get a beating later. Uncomfortable, he tugged down the hem of his tunic, feeling much too exposed without any leggings or undergarments beneath (his pimp never allowed him to wear anything but a tunic when receiving customers; he believed that less clothes made everything easier). He did the breathing exercise Yoongi taught him, trying desperately to calm his beating heart, and twisted the door handle. He forced his features to take on a face that hopefully looked willing and sexy. Although, his front was a bit difficult to keep up as he looked over the man before him. He looked much younger than the usual customers that came to Jimin's door; maybe just a few years older than Jimin himself. His face was elongated, with high cheekbones and dark eyes that glimmered with mischief. A smirk was spread over his mouth. "Like what you see, gorgeous?" Jimin was taken aback by the comment. He must have caught him gawking, though the stranger seemed amused by his flustered appearance. Jimin managed to regain his act. "Of course," Jimin purred, placing his hands on the man's broad chest. He bit his lip and looked up at him through hooded eyelids. "You wanna come inside?" The man grinned, "Absolutely." In a second, the door was shut and his arm was hooked around Jimin's waist. Lips attached to Jimin's neck, and a hand reached down to grope his ass. To Jimin's surprise, the pleasured groan that escaped it's mouth was as real as they get. He tangled his fingers in the man's hair, his legs giving out from beneath him as we was touched, stroked, and caressed in all the right ways. Gentle nips at his jawline, a wandering hand along his side and waistline. He gasped as he was pushed back, landing on his bed, with the stranger looming over him, the curious look in his eyes never leaving Jimin's. Jimin squirmed under his lecherous gaze, but felt an unfamiliar curl in his pelvis. Usually, customers never paid attention to him, he could have been a ragdoll for all they cared. But this one.. Jimin found himself reaching up of his own volition and pressing a deep kiss to the other's mouth. Wet laps at his lips provoked Jimin to open his mouth, feeling the foreign tongue exploring inside. A sudden hand palming Jimin's member caused him to pull back, panting, saliva glossing his kiss-swollen lips. He could feel the stranger smile against his skin, slowly kissing down his neck, along his collarbone, removing his tunic before continuing down his torso, stopping to lave at pebbled nipples. Red and purple marks were sucked onto Jimin's slightly concave stomach, tongue lightly dancing over the gentle dips of his ribs and hip bones. Jimin couldn't stop the wanton noises leaving his lips. He felt the man start to mouth at his growing erection. "Oh--ah.. Ah.. Sir.. I--" He whined at the sudden loss of contact, but shivered when he met the dark eyes of the stranger. Dangerous, but unbelievably alluring. "Call me Hope."         Seokjin knew that he was gripping Namjoon's arm a bit too tight, but he didn't care. Though his husband had repeatedly assured him that the new King of Degue was much more reasonable than his father, Seokjin still worried. He'd only met the late King once, when he was but a prince. The King of Degue Seokjin knew was harsh and cold, and, though he knew it was an incorrect assumption, that was how he expected the rest of the kingdom's residents to be. He was aware of the fact that his husband's kingdom was much more amiable with Degue than Seokjin's home kingdom, but he couldn't help but worry. The couple was greeted at the gate of the palace by a kind-looking gentleman, shaking both their hands and ushering them inside. Namjoon kept up his smile as they were paraded across the pathway, where the white-haired King stood at the open door of the throne room. "Ah, your Majesty," Namjoon bowed, his grin widening as his eyes twinkled playfully. "Your Highnesses," the King bowed back, smirking as he stood upright once again. "Always a pleasure, Namjoon." "Aish, Yoongi! You're still so stiff, loosen up a bit! It's a party, lighten up," Namjoon teased, startling Seokjin with his informal words. Yoongi only chuckled, "The party is just starting." He gestured for them to follow him, leading them into the throne room. He halted suddenly, spinning. "Oh, forgive me," he said, turning his gaze to Seokjin, "We've never been formally introduced." Namjoon rolled his eyes, "Ah, spare me the formalities." "No, Namjoon, it's alright," Seokjin spoke softly. He shook Yoongi's outstretched hand. "I'm Seokjin." Yoongi held onto his hand for a moment, bending down to press a kiss to the tops of his knuckles. "My pleasure, Seokjin." "Aigoo, Yoongi, that's my husband you're kissing," Namjoon slapped a hand over his heart in feigned pain. Seokjin blushed. He didn't know how he ever got used to Namjoon's antics, but he would admit that they were the main attribute of his adorable personality. Yoongi smiled in acknowledgement of Seokjin's embarrassment. "Don't worry, I got used to him a long time ago." "And it's a miracle that you did," Seokjin quipped, glaring pointedly at his husband. Yoongi let out a good-natured laugh, bringing an arm around the two. "Alright alright, let's go. The banquet is waiting."   Jimin squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. After grandly processing him through the throne room and into the banquet hall, Yoongi had deposited him in the chair right next to his, right next to the head of the table. Then he'd left, to "greet the guests." Leaving Jimin alone in the vast dining hall, seated at a long table that could seat fifty, staring at the unfamiliar ceramic plates and sleek metal silverware. A cloth napkin folded in the shape of a swan was perched atop his plate, delicate and graceful, one could almost disregard the fact that it was just a piece of cloth. Much like Jimin himself. He felt like he was wearing a costume instead of clothing, much too pretty and high-class for Jimin's actual being. Once again, he was debating making a run for it, while Yoongi was still gone. A servant girl brushed past him, lighting the candles stationed periodically across the table, and lowering her eyes when Jimin tried to smile at her. It felt so wrong. In real life, that girl was most likely of a much higher class, and had Jimin tried to smile at her on any other occasion, she probably would have spit on him and treated him less than dirt. But here, wearing clothes not of his own, appearing as a highborn, expected to be acting as a highborn, he felt even more alien. He'd made up his mind. He mentally apologized to Yoongi as he rose out of his seat and made for the door. As he prepared himself to run, the door opened on its own, and within stood three quite startled royals. Jimin stood frozen, mortified. "Ah, Jimin!" Yoongi said, quickly regaining his composed persona, sliding an arm around Jimin's waist as he faced the other two. "Jimin, this is the King and Queen of Sule, King Namjoon and Queen Seokjin." Jimin bowed from the waist, "Y-Your Majesties." Yoongi continued, "Namjoon, Seokjin, this is my--" his fleeting glance at Jimin's face yielded nothing but red cheeks and a gaze glued to the floor, "close friend Jimin." "It's our pleasure, Jimin," the subtly frailer (and considerably more feminine) royal gave a light nod of his head. Jimin suspected he was the "queen," Seokjin. "Let's have a seat, yes?" Yoongi prompted, ushering the group over to the table. Yoongi himself sat at the head, with Jimin at his left and Namjoon on his right and Seokjin. "How have you been, Yoongi-hyung?" Namjoon asked, "The last letter you sent me was from before I became king!" "Aside from the invitation for today," Seokjin corrected. Yoongi grinned, "I've been well, thank you. There's just been quite a bit to do around here. I've been pushing for some reforms, especially in the rural villages. And, as a matter of fact, I was meaning to speak to you about expanding the presence of other cultures in my cities." "Oh, yes. Do continue."     As the two Kings descended into their conversation, Seokjin noticed the tight- lipped manner of Yoongi's friend. Yoongi was quite warm and welcoming, he had to admit, so he was mystified as to why his "friend" was so silent. Shouldn't he at least be speaking to Yoongi? "So, Jimin," he began, "How do you know Yoongi? It appears that you are quite close." Jimin's eyes widened, most likely surprised that Seokjin even spoke a word to him. "I.. Ah, we met when we were much younger. We've practically grown up together." Jimin smiled, but the subtly noticeable strain in his features did not escape Seokjin's notice. "He's like a brother to me." "Oh, that's nice. He seems like a very sweet man." "Yes.. I rightly suppose that he is." Jimin took a sip from his cup of water, setting it back down, and deciding to engage the conversation. "What about you, your Majesty? How did you meet Namjoon-ssi?" "Ah, Jimin, please call us hyung. I suspect we will be spending a lot of time together in the coming days, and Namjoon himself isn't too fond of formalities." "Oh, sorry. Okay, Seokjin-ss.. Er.. Hyung," Jimin smiled sheepishly. "It's alright, Jimin." Seokjin's kind warmth simply radiated across the table. "As for us meeting, hmm. It was quite awkward at first, I must say. I'm the youngest brother of the current king of Anune, I think it's the kingdom just east of here. As youngest, I didn't really have much relevance in the Royal life, so my parents decided to just marry me off." "You had an arranged marriage?" Seokjin was quick to change the odd expression that bloomed across Jimin's features. "It wasn't as bad as you think. We met quite a couple times beforehand, and made sure we could handle each other. It took me a bit longer to get accustomed to him; he's always been a bit more outgoing and eccentric than me--" the two shared a small chuckle, "--but it is quite safe to say that I truly do love him." Jimin smiled, almost wistfully. "Aw, that sounds nice." "It is," Seokjin's fingers intertwined with his lover's. Chapter End Notes Yaaaaa namjin has made an appearance!!! ***** Seven of Clubs ***** The ember at the end of Jimin's cigar brushed a red glow over his face. He knew he shouldn't; his old choir teacher taught him long ago that he might as well become mute should he ever smoke, but he didn't care. Jimin had snagged a stash from one of the shadier businessmen in town, and taught himself how to roll them into a little tube, lighting it up and taking a drag. The hot air filled is lungs, but it wasn't the smooth comfort of a summer breeze. It was gritty, and it bit into his throat, lungs, and nose as he exhaled. But through coarse coughing fit, a haze of dizziness sprouted up from the base of his skull; a slight hum that calmed his nerves and blurred the edges of his vision. He took another drag, inhaling, then blowing a stream of smoke away into the dusty sky. What was he doing with his life? Sharing his bed with countless nameless, faceless men, his body beaten and desecrated every single night. He knew he would go crazy at some point, but what else could he do? Jimin wondered if he could survive running away. It would be easy enough, just "go for a walk" during the daytime, but who would take him in? Where would he go? He was the illegitimate child of a dead prostitute, not to mention the fact that he had taken on the same line of work. He was also one of the only boys in the brothel, and the most attractive, which made him popular among the customers. If he ran, he was sure least one of them would recognize him, and he'd be renounced and shamed from the realms of both day and night. Well, he could go to Yoongi. He knew that it would be quite strange for someone like him to go waltzing up to the palace gates asking for the crown prince. But he hoped his friend would recognize him, welcome him, take him in with open arms. But then again, he hadn't seen Yoongi in almost half a year. Jimin remembered his anguished waiting, when fall turned to winter, and hell rose from the earth and reigned over Jimin's life as the bitter cold cut through the air. Jimin remembered all the nights he cried, wanting Yoongi, wanting his friend to come comfort him. But now, Jimin could feel the changing of the seasons as time lessened chill of winter, signaling the coming of spring. It would be Yoongi's twentieth birthday soon. Jimin so wanted to celebrate with him, to celebrate his coming-of-age, to celebrate this milestone together. But he knew, that if things kept on they way they were going, with no contact or spoken words between the two, this would be the first time in three years that they would spend a birthday apart. Jimin convinced himself that the sudden overflow of wetness in his eyes was just a result of the acrid smoke.         Yoongi's appetite was slipping through his fingers. There shouldn't have been any causes of this, as the food looked absolutely splendid, the air in the banquet hall was populous and lively, and his lords, ladies, and special guests made some of the best company. But somehow, he still found himself absentmindedly pushing his food around his plate. In truth, Yoongi was distracted by Jimin. For one, his friend looked positively gorgeous. He'd cleaned up nicely, and the new clothes and color scheme complimented his honeyed skin. And when Seokjin made a funny comment, just enough to break through his walls, Jimin's eyes disappeared into adorable little smile lines, and his smile simply lit up the room. Yoongi wondered how on earth he had lived for four years without this amazing person in his life. Namjoon was preoccupied with a conversation with one of the serving boys, so Yoongi had some time to think. He understood why Jimin was being so distant. He had left him alone for four years, and from what Jimin said at their reunion, his mother was no longer in the picture. Jimin had every right to be angry with him, even if he didn't know the reason why Yoongi had disappeared. But there was also an unknown factor. Just before Yoongi stopped visiting Jimin, he noticed that he was experiencing some odd feelings about him. He wasn't quite sure what those feelings were, as he had to stop seeing Jimin soon after he realized his emotions. Yoongi knew that he loved Jimin, at least on some level. They'd grown up together, and they were close like brothers. But, even if the four-year rift between them didn't happen, Yoongi knew that he would not be able to see Jimin in the same light again. Namjoon finally let the poor servant boy go, and returned his attention to his fellow Royal. There was a visible change in his expression as he looked back at Yoongi. "Hyung? Are you okay there?" "I'm alright," Yoongi replied through a forced smile. "Just thinking." "Ay, Yoongi, you think too much." Yoongi jolted forward from the force of a little-more-than-gentle pat on the back. "Joon!" Yoongi winced. "Aish, and you think to little." Namjoon grinned, still pleasantly nibbling at the food on his plate. "Guilty as charged." Yoongi chuckled in response, but his attention was once again drawn by a laugh like tinkling bells, from the beautiful boy beside him.      Jimin couldn't remember the last time he laughed this much. Little tears glittered at the corners of his eyes, and he even heard little squeaks escape his throat when he giggled just a bit too hard. This Seokjin guy was amazing. Jimin loved talking to him, listening to the equal parts of insightful stories and sassy quips. Not to mention his talent of stuffing scarily enormous amounts of food in his mouth. Nonetheless, Jimin was starting to feel the consequences of his giggle fits. His throat began to constrict, and he coughed and wheezed as his airway seized. "Jimin? Are you alright?" Seokjin asked. Jimin's gasps for air were becoming painfully obvious. "Ah--I'm alright, I just.. Need..." Jimin caught Taehyung's eye from a few seats down the table, making a little gesture towards his throat. Taehyung got out of his chair and made his way over to Jimin. "I'll take care of him, your Majesties," Taehyung said, carefully lifting Jimin out of his seat, under the watchful eyes of Seokjin and a worried Yoongi. Seokjin's eyes were still laced with concern. "Alright.. Feel better, okay Jimin?" Jimin nodded weakly, but he could still feel Seokjin and Yoongi's doting gazes following him as he and Taehyung left the dining hall. "Thank you for getting my attention right away," Taehyung said as the two stumbled into the infirmary. Jimin was deposited on the cot and Taehyung immediately went to work brewing a new steaming infusion. Jimin coughed weakly. "Well, I was just lucky that you and Jeongguk weren't sucking face when my lungs decided to die." Taehyung glared at him, but a dusting of red still lay upon his cheeks. "We weren't 'sucking face.'" "Not all the time." Jimin chuckled, sending him into another coughing fit. "Aish, Jiminnie, stop that," Taehyung scolded, undoing the clasps of his shirt and removing it. He pressed an ear to the heaving chest, then gingerly examined his throat. "Your breathing pattern is a little rough, but your bruises seem to be getting better." "That's good," came a frail wheeze. "Yeah." Taehyung still wanted to know the origin of said bruises, but he didn't feel it was a good time yet. Instead, he chose to return to the bowl of boiling liquid atop his stove. Taehyung finished brewing the liquid and brought the bowl over to the cot. Jimin knew the drill. He inhaled the warm vapor, with Taehyung checking on his breathing every now and then, until he was satisfied with the state of his windpipe. "Jimin, you have to be careful, okay?" Taehyung reminded him as he poured out the remaining contents and cleaned up his work area. "I know, Tae, I know." Taehyung sighed. "Knowing" wasn't enough. He kept himself from telling Jimin that this latest attack of his airways was so bad that he could have stopped breathing. He didn't want to worry Jimin; the poor boy looked like he had enough on his mind already. Taehyung looked out the window. "The party won't be finished for a few hours, but I think it's best if you go rest right now." Jimin frowned. "Seokjin will worry--" "Seokjin, or whatever his name is, and his husband will be staying in the room just down the hall from you." "Oh." Jimin looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. On one hand, Seokjin would be close enough to speak to at any time. On the other, he would never leave Jimin alone, especially after this incident. The man was so protective he would treat Jimin (a near stranger) like a fragile child. Taehyung studied Jimin's features, and sighed. "C'mon, let's get you back to your quarters." The two exited the room, but Jimin stopped Taehyung when he tried to follow him down the hall. "Like you said, there's still a few hours left of the party," Jimin said. "Go have fun, I can walk to my room by myself." "Jimin--" "Taehyung, I'm a big boy." Jimin playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Go make out with Jeongguk for me." Taehyung still retained his look of uncertainty for a moment, but it disappeared with Jimin's reassuring expression. "With pleasure," he smirked, ruffling Jimin's hair before turning on his heel to rejoin the party. Jimin shook his head and smiled as he watched the physician run off. He began making his way to his own quarters, but, upon looking up, met the gaze of a man that was all too familiar. Dark, dangerous, and intoxicating. ***** Eight of Clubs ***** Chapter Summary hiiiii hopemin smut chapter ahead! Jimin couldn't believe his eyes. Memories of hot, sweaty bodies clashing together in a dark room resurfaced in his mind as he locked eyes with the man just a few feet away. He remembered the many nights he had opened his door to this familiar face, his favorite customer, his-- "Jimin?" Jimin sucked in a breath as the other walked towards him. He kept his eyes trained on the ground between them, as he felt the other's gaze look up and down his body, probably quite confused. And with good reason, too. The only time they'd ever seen each other was in the brothel, and Jimin never wore clothes this nice, if any at all. A gentle touch beneath his chin brought his face up, bringing him eye to eye with the man. "What are you doing here?" "I should ask the same thing, Hope." Hope grinned. "Touché, my dear." He took the smaller by the hand, leading him down the hall. "Come, we have much to.. Catch up on." Jimin allowed himself to be taken up to the east wing of the palace, an area unknown to him. There was another hall of bedrooms, and Hope opened the second door, gesturing for Jimin to enter. There was always a little thought in Jimin's mind that his best regular was a highborn, with the way his body was always clean and his clothes stiff and proper-looking. But as he walked into his bedroom, he couldn't help but be in awe at the place. It was bigger than his own, and filled with foreign art and trophies, a huge map of the known world covering almost an entire wall. He knew that Hope was highborn, but not this HIGHborn. Jimin sat at the edge of the lush duvet atop the bed. Hope stood in front of him, still standing. "Turn around," he said. Jimin obediently kicked off his shoes and spun so he sat facing the inside of the bed, his legs crisscrossed beneath him. He felt large warm hands glide over his shoulders and down his arms, lightly massaging the muscles at the top of his back. "So tell me," Hope began, "Why are you here, Minnie?" Hooded eyes fluttered shut as Jimin leaned back into the familiar touch. He sighed contentedly before answering, "I'm a friend of the king from when we were kids." "Ah." Jimin felt his cloak come unclipped and fall to the floor, and he was gently pushed forward as Hope slid onto the bed, seated behind him. A hand fell down his back, to rest on his thigh. The other stroked his raven hair, carefully pulling his head to the side as Hope began pressing light kisses along Jimin's jaw. Jimin's shirt was unclasped and cast aside on the floor, allowing access to his neck and collarbones. Jimin suppressed a groan as Hope mouthed along the fading bruises of his neck. "And who might you be in this realm of royals?" He exhaled shakily. Hope smiled against Jimin's throat, and lifted the younger's tunic over his head. His hands swept in deft movements down Jimin's now slightly fuller torso, pinching at his nipples before reaching down to unlace his leggings. Jimin was a panting mess, his head lolled back to rest on Hope's shoulder. "I am Lord Hoseok, the adviser to your friend, the King." Immediately after speaking, Hope, or Hoseok, grabbed Jimin's jaw to pull him into a bruising kiss. Jimin couldn't help but moan under the other's demanding hold. As Jimin slowly turned so he was chest-to-chest with Hoseok, he found himself in the position he had grown quite accustomed to: him, nearly naked, and being dominated by a fully-clothed man. His hands tangled in Hoseok's dirty blond locks, eyes fluttered shut as their mouths moved in a rough kiss. Wet warmth clashing together, tongues rediscovering familiar territory. Hoseok was the one to pull away, one hand gripping the back of Jimin's head to hold him in place. The smaller looked absolutely beautiful like this: slick kiss-swollen lips with a strand of saliva still connecting them to his own, eyes half-lidded, and his face and chest flushed. Hoseok turned them around, so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with Jimin in his lap. "On your knees, baby." Jimin obediently knelt on the floor between Hoseok's legs, looking up through hooded eyelids, undoing the laces of the elder's leggings to free his half-hard cock. Little hands wrapped around the length, tugging gently to bring him to full hardness. Jimin felt fingers curling in his hair, nudging his face forward. He obliged, taking the head of Hoseok's cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue before gently dipping into the slit, causing Hoseok to tighten his grip on his hair. Jimin bobbed his head, hollowing his cheeks. He hummed, feeling the familiar weight and heat on his tongue, remembering all the things he knew to make Hoseok feel good. The vibrations sent waves of pleasure through Hoseok, and he groaned, "Oh... So good Minnie.." Jimin smiled to himself, taking more and more of Hoseok's cock. The head hit the back of his throat, bypassing the gag reflex Jimin had lost long ago. Obscene squelching sounds filled the room, and Jimin loved it. He relished in the remembrance of his nights with his favorite client, knowing that he could give pleasure to someone who would give it back to him. One of his hands trailed down to tug at his cock, pleasuring himself as he brought Hoseok closer to climax. Suddenly, Hoseok roughly pulled Jimin off of his cock, leaving him gasping, with saliva glazing his lips and chin. He looked beautiful. He shifted their position so Jimin lay on the bed, and Hoseok hovered over him, and removed his leggings. Hoseok stripped himself of his clothing as well, before settling between Jimin's legs. He pinned Jimin's wrists above him with one hand, and reached for a small vial of oil on the bedside table with the other. He dipped his fingers in the slippery substance, and reached down to circle the rim of Jimin's entrance. A gasp escaped Jimin's lips as a finger was inserted. It had been so long since he'd last had sex, so his body was tight and sensitive. Hoseok slowly rocked his finger in and out of him, before adding another. He scissored his fingers, trying to relax Jimin and accustom him to the stretch. The little exhales that came from Jimin's mouth morphed into breathy moans, as Hoseok added another finger. Jimin's head threw back. "Oh--ah... H-Hope.. Please.. Hos..." Jimin whined as all contact was removed, and Hoseok's fingers now formed a ring around the base of Jimin's neglected cock. A devilish smirk adorned the elder's features. "Forgotten our manners, have we Minnie?" Jimin panted, "I-I'm sorry, I--" He wriggled his hips, trying to get more friction, but a warning hand at his throat ceased all movement. "What do you call me, Minnie?" "M-Master." Hoseok grinned. "On your hands and knees." Jimin obliged. He felt the heat of the other's body press against his back and backside. "I think you need a little something to, jar your memory, what do you say, Minnie?" "Yes, Master." The familiar words passing over Jimin's lips brought him deeper into the headspace of Hoseok's personal fucktoy. Hoseok poured the remaining contents of the vial onto his length, stroking it leisurely as he admired the sight before him. He lined his cock up to Jimin's entrance. "Ready, Minnie?" "Yes, Master." Jimin sucked in a breath as the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle, and reveling in the pleasure and pain that he had gone without for so long. Inch by inch, Hoseok slowly bottomed out, until Jimin was panting. "Please, move, Hop--Master." Jimin's voice was absolutely debauched. His little gasps were cut off as Hoseok's fingers wrapped around his throat. "With pleasure." His hips drew back, before slamming back in. Jimin let out what little moans he could, and dark spots danced in his vision as his airway was cut off. He felt lightheaded, in a way only Hoseok could make him feel. The perfect angle hit his prostate every time, causing a hot warmth to curl in his core. The smell of sex permeated the air, and Hoseok's hisses and groans resonated in Jimin's ears. "What do you want, Minnie?" Jimin's eyes were rolled back in his head, and he struggled to form an answer; his vocabulary gone out the window and the pleasurable loss of air dizzying his mind. "Inside... Cum inside, Master," he rasped. He heard a chuckle from behind him, and soon felt Hoseok's breath caressing his ear. "And do you deserve to cum, Minnie?" His thrusts were getting more and more forceful, and his grip on Jimin's hip was sure to leave bruises the next day. Tears were streaking Jimin's cheeks. "Please... M-Master... Let me cum," he managed to choke out. A smirk spread across Hoseok's face. "Let's see then." The hand left Jimin's throat, and he inhaled sharply, his head dizzy as he gasped for air. Jimin's face was pushed into the bed, a hand splayed on his back as Hoseok's thrusts picked up speed. Jimin's presence as a singer was made clear as his moans cut clear through the sound of skin against skin, ricocheting off the walls of the room. "You want to cum, Minnie?" "Yes! Please... Let me cum!" Jimin sobbed into a pillow, his fingers tangled in the sheets. Hoseok reached around, and began stroking Jimin in time with his thrusts. The high-pitched moans grew impossibly louder and more desperate as Jimin neared orgasm. "Ah! Ah! Oh-- Master... May I cum please?" The pleading words were like music to Hoseok's ears. Hoseok's grasp on Jimin's neck returned, and he pulled him up so the younger's back was flush to his chest. "Let it go, Minnie." Jimin's cry was choked off as he released onto the sheets and Hoseok's hand, black and white streaking his vision as pain and pleasure came to an overwhelming collision. He collapsed against Hoseok, whining softly through the oversensitivity. Jimin felt Hoseok release inside him, and was gradually slowing his breathing as Hoseok pulled out. He barely registered the elder pushing the dirtied sheets to the side before laying them both down on the cleaner side of the bed. Jimin curled into the soft sheets and rested against Hoseok's warmth, falling out of consciousness from the lack of oxygen and the post-coital fatigue. "What do you say, Minnie?" "Thank you, Master." ***** Nine of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes A somber melody bellowed from the organ, echoing throughout the spacious cathedral. Bright light streams in through the stained-glass windows, seeming inappropriate, considering the occasion. Yoongi stood, stone-faced, in the front pew next to his mother, who was weeping intensely. The music halted, and the bishop gave the final blessing, making the sign of the cross over the coffin in front of the altar. The crowd murmured an "Amen," and slowly processed out of the church, as a little boy in the choir section sang a joyless hymn. At the sound, Yoongi whipped around, but alas, the singer was not a friend of his. He missed Jimin dearly, but they had not seen each other in over two years. Yoongi sighed. His mother had returned to kneel before the coffin, crying, saying one last message before the pallbearers took it away to the burial site. He couldn't bear to watch her anymore, so he gave a slight nod to the maid standing at his side, and she helped him limp slowly up the aisle. Outside, he sat on the steps of the cathedral, basking in the shining rays of the sun. He gestured at the maid to leave him for a bit, and contemplated for this time. Yoongi would be crowned king soon. The sudden loss of his father would not be allowed to severely affect the kingdom. Yoongi had been preparing his whole life for the day he was to take over. So... Why did he feel so uneasy? Well, he had at least an inkling of an answer. He was young, only a year into adulthood, not to mention the fact that he was still recovering from his ailment. And he knew that his advisers were hungrily watching his every move, eager to pounce should he give any sign that he might be unfit to rule. Yoongi had already resigned himself to that reality, knowing he'd have to swiftly establish himself as a strong and efficient leader, and maybe fire a few of the old, corrupt advisers. The only thing he couldn't control was... The fact that he had no Queen, and no heir. With no heir, it made it much easier for any power-hungry tyrant to seize his throne. Yoongi wondered what his late father would think of his situation. It's not like his father was ever proud of him, or showed any emotion towards him, anyway. Even while Yoongi was near dying, his father's stoic demeanor never wavered. The pallbearers holding his father's coffin swept by him, loading the polished wooden box into a carriage, to be carried away and buried six feet under. He'd be laid on a specifically selected plot of land in the royal cemetery, and a specially crafted grey marble tombstone would be positioned over the top. Yoongi's father wasn't the type for sentiments, or any decoration, for that matter. Which was probably the reason why their kingdom of Degue was so politically secluded from the other nations. Yoongi planned to change that. Someone took a seat beside Yoongi on the steps of the cathedral. Yoongi slipped out of his reverie and turned to look at the person. It was his mother. The creases of her aging face were just beginning to set, and her eyes were rimmed with red. Her hair, just beginning to show streaks of silver, was pulled into a tight bun, beneath her black veil. She took Yoongi's cold hand in hers, holding it tightly as they watched the carriage patter away. "Your father did love you, Yoonie." "Loved me?" Yoongi snorted. "If a lion can love a squirrel, then sure, he loved me." She sighed. "Yoon--" "Eomma, please. Don't say that he's just a different kind of man, or that he loved me in his own way. It's pitiful." Yoongi kept his eyes averted from his mother. He didn't want to see the hurt that he knew was in her face. "I know I can't persuade you." She stood. "But if it's any consolation, please know in your heart, that I love you. I always will." She pressed a kiss to his forehead, brushing aside his fringe, then made her way down the steps, to follow the carriage to the burial site. Yoongi watched her go, wondering how a caring woman like her could claim to love the hard stone of a person that was his father.         The festive portion of the banquet was in full swing. The band played a lively tune, and the air was filled with excitement as people sang and danced. The guests of honor were dancing as well, if a bit sloppily, as the wine was starting to take effect in their systems. Yoongi laughed along with Namjoon and Seokjin, who were teasing him to "come and join the fun!" "You know as well as I do that I can barely dance sober!" Yoongi bellowed. Namjoon laughed, showing off some odd footwork whilst almost falling flat on his face. "Then how d'you suppose I'm dancing this well tipsy?" "Full-on drunk is more like it," Seokjin countered, but nonetheless grabbed his husband's hands and danced to the lively jig that was playing from the band. Yoongi smiled at the amiable display, the revelries, the fun, the good company, everything felt so nice this evening. He took a sip from his wineglass, cheering on the couple. Namjoon had always been a happy person, always eager to join a party or start one. Yoongi secretly envied him, it seemed his friend was in a perpetually good mood. Seokjin, on the other hand, was positively glowing. Yoongi would have been stupid if he hadn't picked up on the Queen's unease upon their initial greeting, but now, he looked like he was having the time of his life. His hair, as pale as Yoongi's but a bit on the yellow side, was mussed from being thrown around as the couple practically flew across the dance floor. They danced, socialized, and just had fun. They looked so happy together. Yoongi's lips turned up in a wistful smile. The sight of his happily wedded friends only made him even more painfully aware of his current bachelor status. He knew he shouldn't be jealous. But... The only person who had ever moved his heart, in terms of romance, was currently refusing to speak more than a few to sentences to him. But Yoongi had had four years to think about his feelings towards him. He had missed his friend terribly in the years they were separated, and said friend was always in the back of his mind while Yoongi was sick. An apology was in order. Yoongi wanted to tell Jimin about why he never came to see him again, to explain everything. And... Well, he didn't want to scare him away, but Jimin deserved the whole truth, and Yoongi's feelings were part of the truth. Yoongi had made up his mind. He would go to Jimin, and apologize, and explain. He eyed Namjoon and Seokjin one last time. He caught Namjoon's eye, gesturing that he'd be gone for a bit. Namjoon nodded, and Yoongi quietly slipped out of the banquet hall. Chapter End Notes So sorry for the short chapter ://// fluffy romancy stuff coming soon! Also thank you so much to all the people leaving comments and kudos, it's absolutely wonderful to see those, and it really motivates me to keep going :) ***** Ten of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes I promised fluff, I deliver fluff (in the form of a flashback)! See the end of the chapter for more notes The sky was already blooming in hues of pink and orange when Yoongi made his way to the river. He nearly tripped several times, making an effort not to drop the bag of supplies he had slung over his shoulder, but he was so excited for the day. Yoongi had suggested it, much to both of their surprise. Jimin had been complaining about how the time they spent together was always short, and Yoongi had been leaving earlier and earlier each time. So one day, Yoongi just said it: "Why don't we just get away for a day?"     As he rushed across the grassy slopes, Yoongi could see Jimin barreling towards him with equal speed and excitement shining in his brown eyes. His little giggles filled the brisk morning air as they almost collided. Jimin exhaled heavily from running, but a huge grin stretched across his face as he ran his fingers through his hair, before throwing his arms around Yoongi.     "Yoongi-hyung!" Jimin squealed. When he pulled away, his face was a little flushed, but his eyes twinkled with giddiness.     "Hey, Jiminnie," Yoongi beamed. He could never get used to Jimin's big, excited smile. He wrapped an arm around Jimin's shoulders, as they started walking along the riverbank. "Ready to go?" =============================================================================== "Aish, goddamn squirrels."     Yoongi cursed as one of the furry little monsters scurried down the tree, nearly causing him to lose his footing.     "Min Yoongi! Min Yoongi! Min Yoongi!" Jimin cheered from the forest floor, jumping up and down as Yoongi painstakingly scaled the tree. "Get those apples!"     Yoongi almost snickered at the childishness of the task at hand. As soon as Jimin saw the bright red fruits adorning the boughs of the tree, Yoongi's fate was sealed. He already knew that he could never withstand the "Pleeeease, hyung?"s and big brown puppy eyes. But it didn't bother him quite as much.     Yoongi grunted, struggling to settle his foot into the niche between two branches. He called down to Jimin, "You know, you could just get these yourself, you lazy butt head."     "I know, I know." Yoongi could feel Jimin's smug little smirk digging into the back of his head as he watched him. "But it's quite amusing to watch you."     Yoongi rolled his eyes. "I bet it is." He managed to situate himself in a somewhat stable position, and began plucking the fruit from the branches. "Catch!"     A pleased simper crossed Yoongi's features when he heard Jimin yelp as the fruits came hurdling down. "Aish, Yoongi! You almost hit me in the face!"     Yoongi tossed down the last one within his reach before beginning to descend the tree. "But I didn't!" He called coyly, turning his head, catching a glimpse of Jimin's pouting face. He let go of the trunk when he was a few feet above the ground, but let out a faint groan when his feet hit the grassy floor.     Jimin stuffed the last of the apples into his knapsack before walking closer to Yoongi, who had slid down to sit against the tree. "Oh, what'd you do now?" Jimin sighed, crouching to examine his leg. The knees of the thin leggings were frayed and littered with tiny splinters of wood, but no broken skin.     "I think I just landed weirdly on this leg," Yoongi said, tapping his right thigh. "It hurts a bit around the knee."     Jimin reached out to gently squeeze the area just above the knee, before carefully massaging it. "Better?"     Yoongi nodded.     A slight smile spread across Jimin's lips. "Honestly, I don't know why I put up with you, hyung." He should anticipated the weak punch to his shoulder.     "Shut up, you ass. You asked me to do it."     "I know," Jimin singsonged playfully.     Yoongi's lip curled. "I hate you."     "Love you too, Yoongi!" Jimin quipped, patting his knee before hopping to his feet. "Well, come on now! The day doesn't wait for slackers!"     Yoongi tried to hide his face as he grinned, taking Jimin's hand. =============================================================================== Jimin would not stop yelling as he ran along the seashore.     "I had no idea we were so close to water!" Yoongi could hear the younger exclaim, while he stood a few yards away shaking his head.     "Why on earth did I take him here?" Yoongi's question skyward brought no answer, only dust tickling his chin as Jimin kicked up sand.     Jimin jogged back over to him, immediately stripping off his shoes and leggings. "Hyung! C'mon! Let's go in the water!"     Yoongi could never say no to Jimin.     Within minutes, the two teens were knee-deep in the frigid waters. The sun was now full and bright, shining directly over their heads. Birds squawked somewhere nearby, drowned out by the symphony of waves lapping against the sand. The gritty bits of sand dug in between Yoongi's toes, and while wading in the water was pleasant, it was much colder than he thought it would be.     Yoongi gasped as Jimin kicked up a spray, splashing the both of them with water. "Jimin-ah! We don't have a change of clothes!"     "Who cares?" Jimin laughed, tackling Yoongi, dousing them both in the cold water.     "Oh that's how we're gonna play it?" Yoongi challenged, before grabbing Jimin's hands, grappling playfully in the shallows.     By the time they finished, they were both soaked from head to toe, and their tunics clung to them like second skin. They shook off the sand as best they could, then sat on a rock formation just before where the sand met the meadow. Jimin lay back against the rock, his features practically glowing in the high sun. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and the neckline of his tunic dipped low, exploding his collarbones. Yoongi had to tear his gaze away, and frantically adjust the fabric at his chest and nether regions, where the wet cloth was getting a little too skin-tight.     "Here," Jimin tossed him one of the apples from earlier, before sitting up straight as he nibbled on his own, watching the gentle sway of the waves. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"     "Yeah, it is." Not as beautiful as you, Yoongi wanted to say, but he stopped himself, to keep his conflicted feelings to himself, and to not sound painfully cheesy.     He pulled a medium-sized loaf of bread from his own knapsack (he had to do some serious bribing to let the kitchens lady let him take this), and ripped off a piece, handing it to Jimin.     "Thanks, hyung."     Jimin seemed perpetually transfixed by the waters of the lake, so Yoongi took that opportunity to look at him once again. He had his knee propped up on one of the closer-to-the-ground rocks, his elbow resting on it as he ate their lunch. The sun was doing that thing with his eyes, where the sunlight radiated into his irises, transforming the warm brown orbs into a brilliant gold.     "Hyung?"     Yoongi snapped out of his trance, forcing himself to actually look at Jimin rather than through him. "Yeah?"     Jimin nodded towards Yoongi's bag. "How's your little poetry thing going?"     A bright red blossomed across Yoongi's cheekbones. Ever since he'd told Jimin of his newfound interest in verse, he would not shut up about it. "Ah, I wrote something, but it's not that good--"     "Oh of course it's good," Jimin waved his comment away, making a "give it" movement to Yoongi's bag.     Yoongi feigned reluctance as he handed Jimin the small leather-bound notebook. While, on one hand, he was deeply regretting his decision to tell Jimin about his interest in poetry, he was also quite curious to see how Jimin would react to the obviously lovesick words etched in his loose, languid writing.     "If only I had just one day I want to peacefully fall asleep Intoxicated with your sweet scent I want to put my body in your warm and deep eyes Whenever I see you, I run out of breath Our music is the sound of breathing Your voice when you say my name I wanna be locked in you and swim in you, I want to know you more. An explorer venturing through your deep forest of mystery I appreciate the masterpiece that is you Because your existence alone is art I imagine this all night every day Because it’s a meaningless dream anyway," Jimin read aloud. He shut the book, looking at Yoongi with an odd expression in his eyes: somewhere between being touched, and feeling... hopeful? "Aww, Yoongi," he cooed. "That's so sweet."     Jimin's warm fingers felt distinctly more noticeable, as their hands just barely touched when Yoongi took back the book. "You think?" Yoongi inquired.     "Yeah." Jimin replied, and his eyes smiled too. "Maybe you could write lyrics for me one day."     "Maybe." =============================================================================== By the time their clothes were dry, the sun was just beginning its descending curve towards the earth. Despite Jimin's whining ("But hyung!" "Let's stay, please?" "I'll splash you again!"), he and Yoongi agreed to start heading back to their place on the river, so as not to be caught by nightfall in an unfamiliar place. They skirted around the woods this time, instead of passing through, per Jimin's request for a "scenic route." Said Jimin was currently chasing butterflies through the meadow, as Yoongi carried both of their bags.     Yoongi rolled his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day. "Jimin! Quit it! You'll just get bit by one of the bugs."     "Butterflies don't bite!" Jimin countered. "And shut it! You'll scare them away."     "You're doing that perfectly fine yourself." Yoongi strained his eyes to look further over the horizon. The twinkle of the sun's rays on the river water was getting closer, but not by much. "Come on back, Jiminnie, I want to get to the river before nighttime."     Instead of a response, he heard a little gasp.     "Jimin?" He turned his head to see Jimin walking precariously slowly towards him.     Jimin's eyes flicked up to look at him. They were brimming with excitement, but Jimin was doing a fairly good job at keeping himself steady. "I got one," he whispered, carefully stretching out his arm. There was a tiny butterfly perched on the bone of his wrist. Blue wings shimmered with mirror-like iridescence, defined by smooth black lines tracing delicate patterns along the fluttering wings.     "Lovely, isn't it?" Jimin remarked, twisting his arm such that the cerulean scales caught the sunlight.     "Yes, it's beautiful."     The butterfly suddenly took off, taking flight in a fluttering blur of black and blue. The two boys kept their eyes trained on it, watching it fly away. =============================================================================== Yoongi poked at the crackling fire, watching the sparks dancing up into the evening air. Satisfied with the warmth, he sat back, next to Jimin, who rested his head on his shoulder.     "I had a great time today," Jimin said.     Yoongi turned to smile at him. "Yeah, I did, too."     Jimin's twinkling orbs disappeared in his signature eyesmile. He shifted around a bit, so he was laying down, with Yoongi's thigh as a pillow. Yoongi leaned back against the tree trunk, watching Jimin curl up on the blanket they had laid out. They were situated a few feet away from the outcropping above the river, just under the canopy of leaves, but still able to see the stars.     Yoongi was a bit startled when Jimin suddenly took hold of his hand, but quickly relaxed, when Jimin started to play with his fingers.     "Hyung?"     "Yes?"     "Can we do this again?"     Yoongi smiled. On impulse, he bent over, pressing a chaste kiss to Jimin's cheek. "Of course, Jiminnie." Yoongi's face flushed when he realized what he had done, but his fears were dissipated when he saw Jimin's little smile.     "Promise?"     "Promise."     Yoongi felt Jimin gently nuzzle against his leg. "Okay."     Yoongi found himself carefully stroking Jimin's hair, absentmindedly playing with the soft raven locks as he traced constellations in the sky. Soon, the quiet harmony of the night was joined by Jimin's soft, even breathing.     Yoongi sighed contentedly, looking down at the younger boy one last time. "I love you, Jimin," he said, knowing only the quiet night would hear him. He settled back, resting his head against the tree, before closing his eyes. Chapter End Notes Yes, the tree scene was inspired by the bts bomb where Yoongi is playing basketball ft cheerleader!jimin, and Yoongi's poem consists of slightly altered lyrics from 하루만 ***** Jack of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes helloo! I'm so so sorry I haven't been uploading or replying to comments.. I've been having some personal problems recently, but it's getting better, so expect a more frequent upload schedule again! <3333 and thank you all for reading!! See the end of the chapter for more notes Long story short, Yoongi looked like shit. His eyes were rimmed with red from strained overuse, and deep indigo semicircles below them. His normally low- hanging eyelids were even droopier than before. White-blond hair fell in greasy clumps to dangle before his eyes, clinging to his forehead. His lips were pale and cracked and chapped. Now Yoongi understood why his father always looked like a zombie (in the rare moments that he wasn't looking incredibly disappointed with Yoongi). Yoongi splashed his face in the washbasin, then steadied his hands on the rim, bending at the waist and leaning forward. Honestly, fuck anyone who says that ruling a nation is easy. Between the taxes, laws, and the goddamn inter-kingdom politics, he felt like he might lose it. Not to mention the new plans and reforms Yoongi was trying to make. He rubbed his eyes, abandoning the basin, stumbling back to his study adjacent to the council room. Yoongi collapsed into his desk, staring blankly at the mess of papers crowding his desk. "Yoongi?" Yoongi turned his head, looking bleary-eyed at the speaker at his door. It was his mother, again. Her robes were grey, and her hair was loose, falling in a single black and silver-streaked sheet down her back and shoulders. Her veil was in her hands, and she looked expectantly at him. Yoongi knew what she was going to say. "I'm going to visit the cemetery today. Would you like to join me?" She asked, a hopeful smile on her face. She always invited him whenever she went to visit his father. And every time, his answer was the same. "No, eomma," Yoongi answered, hoping his expression displayed at least some remorse. "I've got too much on my hands right now." His mother sighed. "Alright then." She draped her veil over her head, giving him one last solemn look before disappearing. Yoongi would never understand his parents' love. Well, it seemed like they loved each other, but Yoongi could never tell why. Perhaps his father only developed his cold demeanor after Yoongi's birth. Maybe there was some warmth to him, something that his mother fell for, that Yoongi would never see. Yoongi cradled his head in his hands. God. He really should stop thinking about couples. Especially with the scroll lying innocently at the top of the pile of papers, inviting him to the coronation of the newly wed Namjoon and Seokjin of the neighbouring Sule. Both his mother and his advisers were hounding him to "please find a queen before I die of old age." It had taken all of Yoongi's restraint to not slap them all across the face (sorry eomma). What he needed right now was not a partner, but someone to get at least some of his work the hell off his back. Speaking of which, where was Hoseok? As chief adviser, he was supposed to filter through the paperwork, leaving only the important ones to the King. "Your Majesty." Speak of the devil. Yoongi turned once again to the interruption at his door. "Ah, Lord Hoseok, I was hoping you could--" "Er, my apologies, Your Majesty, but I'm in a bit of a rush here," Hoseok cut him off, walking in quickly and (goddamn it) depositing another stack of papers on the desk. "Alright.. Hoseok, but--" Yoongi wrinkled his nose. "Eugh. You smell like- - Oh." Looking at him now, Yoongi noticed that Hoseok's clothes and hair were disheveled, and his doublet was clasped incorrectly. His face was flushed, from embarrassment, and from something much more taboo. Yoongi knew exactly where he had been. Hoseok's face turned bright red. "I'll.. Uh... I'll be going, then, Your, uh.. Your Majesty." He bowed hastily before fleeing the room. Yoongi watched him go, a twinge of disgust curling his lip. "Yeah. You do that." =============================================================================== Jeongguk was torn between wanting to drop Taehyung on the floor and leave him there or wanting to maniacally fuck him in the middle of the hallway. Of course, he would end up doing neither, but Taehyung really needed to stop grinding down on his crotch, or Jeongguk might have been forced to choose. "Love," Jeongguk managed to say, amidst the hot lips crushed against his own, "Can't you wait?" Taehyung grinned against his lips, before pulling away and pouting. "But I'm an impatient little boy." A groan escaped Jeongguk's mouth as another twist of the elder's hips caused teasing amounts of friction against his clothed erection. The ever-present twinkle of mischief in Taehyung's eyes gleamed brighter. "And it seems you are too." "Oh stop it," Jeongguk replied, tightening his grip on Taehyung's ass in retaliation. Taehyung yelped in surprise. Quickly regaining his composure, he allowed a small giggle to leave his lips before narrowing his eyes, digging his fingertips into Jeongguk's muscular shoulders. "Don't you drop me." Jeongguk chuckled, shifting his grip as he released one hand to reach the door of Taehyung's bedroom. "I wouldn't dare." It took a bit of maneuvering to enter the room without dropping or injuring the horny man clinging to Jeongguk's front. When the couple was safely inside, Jeongguk nudged the door shut once more, and deposited Taehyung onto the bed. Taehyung was perched at the edge of the bed, smirking coquettishly up at the younger. Jeongguk easily countered the intensity in his eyes, before closing the gap between them, and connecting their lips in a searing kiss. His hands cupped Taehyung's face, and he felt impatient tugs at his shirt, pulling him down to lean over the elder. Taehyung was nearly flush against the bed, pinned down by Jeongguk as their lips danced together. Taehyung nipped at Jeongguk's bottom lip, opening his own as tongues explored each other's mouths. The kiss was hot, hungry, and burning. Taehyung kissed him with a passion that only grew stronger. Jeongguk felt the clasps of his outer shirt becoming undone, and he slipped it off, before quickly breaking the contact to remove his tunic as well. Taehyung was quick to pull him back, tangling his hands Jeongguk's hair and pulling. Jeongguk groaned at the slight sting. "Eager," he chuckled breathlessly. He broke away from the deep kiss, and began pressing his lips lightly in a trail from Taehyung's lips, to his sharp jawline, and sucking a hickey into the soft spot just below the bone. Taehyung bit his lip to stifle a moan, as Jeongguk continued to work his way down his neck, undoing the top of his shirt for more access. He allowed the other a few seconds to shed his top layers as well, before latching back on to the warm honeyed skin. Jeongguk sucked at the skin over his collarbone, before working his way down his torso. Reaching Taehyung's groin, Jeongguk mouthed wetly at the outline of the erection straining through the fabric. Taehyung hissed, fingers clutching at the sheets. "Don't--tease--ah--damn it.." He groaned, writhing under his partner's skilled touch. Jeongguk grinned, nibbling at his lower lip as his fingers skimmed over the laces of Taehyung's leggings. "What's the magic word?" "--fuck you, Jeon Jeongguk." Jeongguk tutted. "Taetae--" his voice had a little edge to it, dangerous, and Taehyung was so tempted to misbehave, but he was too desperate. Taehyung gasped as Jeongguk suddenly bit into the sensitive inside of his thigh, the thin fabric digging into his skin, heightening the feeling of the sharp sting. "A--ah! Please, J-Jeongguk, I just need fuck--!" His skull bounced against the mattress as his head was thrown back, overwhelmed by his cock suddenly nipped by the air then engulfed in the wet warmth of Jeongguk's mouth. Jeongguk expertly bobbed his head, wasting no time. He ran his tongue along the bottom, tracing along the vein there. He simpered to himself when he felt Taehyung's slim fingers find their way back to his hair, gripping there and hanging on for dear life. Taehyung whined as Jeongguk suddenly pulled off, lips red, and a hand replacing his mouth. He flicked his wrist leisurely, perfect amount of pressure, stopping to rub at the hot, angry red head every now and then. "What do you want, baby?" Jeongguk's voice was low and rich; Taehyung shivered at the sound. Jeongguk had shifted back up again, attaching his lips to Taehyung's as his hand still stroked at his cock. Taehyung hummed into the kiss, hands sliding down to rest on Jeongguk's muscled shoulders. "Mm... Ah... Fuck me, Jeonggukkie." Jeongguk couldn't stop the exaggerated sound of exasperation that escaped his lips as he moved back down. "Aish, baby, don't call me by that when we're about to have sex," he rolled his eyes as he made to slide Taehyung's leggings down and off his legs. "As long as your dick is in me by the end of the night, I'll call you whatever I want." "Uh huh. Give." Taehyung reached behind him, to grab a little bottle of oil wedged between the mattress and headboard, handing it to Jeongguk. Jeongguk hovered over Taehyung's torso, held up by one hand planted beside the elder's torso, as his other hand wandered down between his legs. He dribbled the oil his fingers before rubbing around the rim of his opening, relishing in the moans the movement elicited from Taehyung. He traced his fingers around the puckered muscle, before gently pushing the tip of his index finger inside. Taehyung cried out as the finger pushed deeper. "God--ah..!" He breathed through gritted teeth. The little breaths grew heavier and more forceful as Jeongguk began pushing his finger in and out of Taehyung's hole, gradually increasing the pace. He added another finger, allowing his partner to adjust before carefully working his fingers in a acis scissoring motion, trying to relax the tight grip of the muscles. Finally, Jeongguk added a third finger, pushing them in and out and curling them slightly. Taehyung arched his back, moaning at the feeling. "God, Jeongguk! I'm ready I'm ready just-- fuck me already!" Jeongguk removed his fingers. His pupils were blown with lust at the sight before him: Taehyung was a mess, desperate, absolutely wrecked. His face and chest were flushed a dark red, hair mussed and clinging to his forehead with sweat. Jeongguk reached down to capture red spit-slick lips with his own, before withdrawing to slick up his own cock with the oil. "Gladly." He positioned the head of his member before Taehyung's entrance. Taehyung gasped, breath hitching as he felt it breach him, hands clasping at the back of Jeongguk's neck, holding their foreheads together as he bottomed out. He could feel Jeongguk's hot breath mingling with his own, but so consumed in the feeling of being full, warm, amazing. No matter how many times they did this, it always left him breathless. Taehyung lifted up his legs to wrap them around Jeongguk's waist, crossing his ankles at the back. "I'm ready, go," he panted impatiently. Jeongguk smiled, kissing him again, before lifting his hips, and thrusting back in. He drank in the moans from Taehyung's lips, loving him, loving his Taetae, loving the heat tight around his cock, loving how this feeling never got old; sex with Taehyung was like discovering a new galaxy, over and over: it's breathtaking evertime. He drove his thrusts deeper, angling his hips to find Taehyung's prostate. The loud, wanton moan against his lips signaled his success. Jeongguk lowered his kisses to Taehyung's neck, wanting to hear his noises freely. And hear them he did, his pleasured grunts joining the cacophony of sound, coalescing with the breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin on skin. Jeongguk mouthed and nipped at the still-newly made red marks dotting Taehyung's warm skin, teeth gently grazing the collarbone as he felt his climax approaching; he quickened his thrusts, growing sloppier. "Ah.. Tae.." Taehyung's fingers were scrabbling at the hairs at the back of Jeongguk's skull, pleasured groans growing louder. "Gukkie, I'm-" "Come on, baby." Taehyung came with a shout, and thank god the other occupants of the castle were drunk out of their minds and distracted by the band, as his cry would definitely have drawn attention. Jeongguk finished not long after, releasing into the heat clenching around him. They breathed heavily, letting their racing heartbeats slow, before Jeongguk pulled out. He wiped down both of their chests, streaked with white, before taking the elder into his arms. They lay curled up into each other, Taehyung's head resting on Jeongguk's chest. "Tae?" "Yeah?" Taehyung replied sleepily. "I love you." "I love you too, Gukkie." "..." "..." "Thank god for the party." Chapter End Notes Also, I've encountered some weird glitch where I can't respond to comments?? I'm trying, but hopefully it will work for this chapter and the upcoming ones ***** Queen of Clubs ***** The first time Hoseok was shaking like a virgin. Well, obviously, he wasn't a virgin, but this--experience--was, unfamiliar, for lack of a better word. He had dug through his closet to find his plainest, least detailed cloak and tunic, messing up his hair as he skirted around the border of the town. It took him a long time before he worked up the courage to walk into the brothel. The "lobby" was clouded with smoke and the stench of sweat and cheap alcohol. A few men conversed over a table, obviously the source of the acrid smoke, and a scantily clad girl was draped over a man seated in the corner. Hoseok gulped, before regaining his composure. The front that he put on was carved from years of hardening his features, hiding his emotions, telling himself he had power, so act like it. With a feigned but believable air of confidence, he strode up to the group of men at the table. They parted, until they were somewhat situated behind it, leering over at him. "You here for a whore?" "Why else do people come here?" =============================================================================== The second, third, and fourth times all sort of blurred together. It was the same thing over and over: some underage girl "seducing" him then just mindless humping until somebody came (it was usually the girl). To be honest, the girls disgusted him. He didn't know why, but the idea and the action of sex with a woman absolutely repulsed him. So the fifth time, he requested a boy. Hoseok made his way down to the last bedroom of the hallway, placing a firm knock upon the door. The boy that opened was absolutely breathtaking. He was small, short of stature with slender limbs, but his cheeks were round and full. He had dark, heavy- lidded eyes and puffy pink lips that Hoseok imagined would look heavenly around his cock. Those pretty doe eyes, Hoseok noticed, were currently running up and down Hoseok's own body, and the boy seemed considerably flustered. It was cute. "Like what you see, gorgeous?" =============================================================================== Hoseok couldn't even remember how many more times there were, following their first meeting. Now, when he visited the brothel, he requested a name. Jimin. Sometimes, Hoseok would drop the title of "Master" and take up his alias of "Hope," and sit with Jimin afterwards for hours on end, sharing a pipe or a bottle of soju. He was somehow simply entranced with Jimin's presence. They had been doing this for a few months when Hoseok's hands began to find their way around Jimin's neck. Jimin didn't mind it too much at first, he knew that people had their kinks. But he had to admit, the haziness that came with the asphyxiation combined with Hoseok fucking him hard and fast brought him to dizzying heights of pleasure. Jimin only noticed when he could no longer sing smoothly or sweetly anymore, and the resulting ring of bruises was growing much darker. But it couldn't prevent him from submitting to his Master every single time. =============================================================================== When Jimin awoke, the place beside him on the bed was cold. He drew the blankets tighter around him, groaning at the slight twinge in his ass. He heard water splashing from the washroom, and turned his head just in time to see Hoseok walking back towards him, a towel slung around his waist. Hoseok slid back into the bed, an arm curling around Jimin, the other hand caressing a cheek. Jimin sighed at the contact, melting into the familiar touch, breathing in Hoseok's signature scent of lavender and rose. His eyelids fluttered sleepily, and he looked up into the elder's eyes. They were unreadable, face contorted with forced warmth and an odd expression. Jimin felt the hand at his cheek trail down, past his jawline, to trace along the newly formed red marks contrasting with the fading bruises. "Hoseok." The elder jumped out of his reverie. "What is it, Jimin?" Jimin slowly extracted himself from Hoseok's touch. "I need to go," he murmured softly, "Yoongi will worry if I'm gone." "Oh. Yes. Of course." Hoseok watched silently as Jimin picked up his clothing, redressing himself. "Jimin?" Jimin looked up, and walked over at Hoseok's beckoning. Hoseok's larger hands cupped his face, pulling him down to kiss him. Jimin leaned in, kissing him back, but pulled away just as quickly. His gaze stayed on Hoseok's as he walked back to the door. "Come back soon, will you?" "Anything you want, Hope," Jimin replied, a small smile gracing his lips before the door closed behind him. ***** King of Clubs ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Surprisingly, Yoongi found that he liked drunk Namjoon quite a bit more than sober Namjoon. The reason being, that drunk Namjoon had practically passed out. Yoongi supposed the only downside was that he now had to carry said Namjoon up to his room, but it was a small price to pay for a little quiet. Drunk Seokjin, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Even though Yoongi had just now met him, he could tell that Seokjin's drunk persona was a stark contrast to him sober. Seokjin was stumbling all over the place, giggling uncontrollably and singing some childish-sounding song (consisting of mostly "la la la"s and the occasional "okay!"). Yoongi finally managed to deposit the couple in their room, trusting Seokjin to take care of his husband. He sent a message down to the kitchen and infirmary to have some water and Taehyung's "special anti-hangover" medicine sent up to their room and his own in the morning. He may have just been a little tipsy, but he didn't want to risk it. He had work to do in the morning. Passing by Jimin's room, he stopped to take a quick peek inside. Yoongi frowned when he saw the clean, still-made bed. He looked up and down the hallway. No Jimin. Hmm. That was odd, considering that Taehyung had returned to the party confidently stating that Jimin was safe in bed before turning to make out with Jeongguk. Yoongi had half a mind to go find and yell at Taehyung, but he knew half the palace was either asleep and drunk out of their minds, or fucking like bunnies. His attention was suddenly drawn by a scuffling sound around the corner of the hallway. Yoongi leaned forward, peering down the hallway, before recognizing the head of black hair. "Oh, there you are, Jimin," he said, relief evident in his voice. He met him about halfway down the corridor, taking his arm. "Why aren't you in bed? And why are you limping?" Yoongi's voice was laced with concern. Jimin didn't look him in the eye, and he kept his lips shut. Yoongi sighed. "Oh, Jimin.." Yoongi guided Jimin into his room, helping him onto his bed. The wince that passed over Jimin's features when he sat on the duvet did not slip past Yoongi's sharp gaze. "So where have you been, Jimin?" Yoongi said cautiously, folding back the covers as he gestured for Jimin to remove his shoes. "Seokjin and I were worried sick about you." "I was..." "Taehyung said he brought you back to your room." "I got.. Lost." "Lost?" Yoongi stood in front of Jimin, and began unclasping the top of his doublet. "How could you get lost? You know this hallway like the back of your hand..." Yoongi trailed off as he noticed the newly formed red marks circling Jimin's throat, previously hidden by the high-collared doublet. "Jimin-ah..." A gentle hand at Jimin's chin turned his face to look directly at Yoongi's. "Jimin, where did you get these?" Jimin's face was red, and he dropped his chin past Yoongi's hand to stare at his own lap. "Jimin, please don't hide things from me." The following silence was deafening, flooding the room, sweeping into every crack and corner, drowning them both in the absence of sound. Yoongi was sure that the sadness and disappointment in his expression could be read like a book. Defeated, he let Jimin go, picking out some nightclothes from the dresser and setting it beside Jimin on the bed. "Go down to Taehyung in the morning, okay?" Jimin made a little movement of his head that could barely be registered as a nod. "Alright then," Yoongi said, opening the bedroom door and passing into the hallway. "Goodnight, Jimin." As he left, Yoongi tried not to notice the unmistakable stench of sex, and the pungent scent of that god-awful perfume that was the favorite of a certain adviser of his. Chapter End Notes two short chapters???? Anyway, this is the end of the first suit! More plot action will be coming soon in Diamonds, Spades, and Hearts... Thanks so much for reading this far!! <3333 ***** Black Joker ***** Chapter Summary The Black Joker is somewhat a wild card. It is mysterious, as it can transform or represent anything. At most, this card can represent an unknown future that is still able to be shaped. Chapter Notes Literally just namjin backstory and porn with feels See the end of the chapter for more notes Namjoon struggled to hide how much he was shaking. He currently stood between his parents in the throne room of Anune, where the elderly King and Queen and their eldest son looked down at him with stern, analytic stares. A girl who looked even younger than himself was hanging off the Prince's arm, but her cold gaze looked even more closed off and condescending than the rest of the Royal Family's. Namjoon swallowed, hands tightly clasped behind his back, nearly choking the small flower he held there. If all Anunian royals were like this, he waslooking forward to meet the youngest prince. His father seemed to sense his unease, resting a comforting hand on Namjoon's shoulder. Namjoon sent him a quick look of gratitude, before the attention was no longer on him, but on the scuffling sound from the top of the stairs. The youngest Prince of Anune looked even more flustered than Namjoon, if that was even possible, as his cheeks were flushed with color from almost tripping down the stairs. In a swift moment, he was composed again, a hand reached out to steady himself on the banister as he glided down the stairs, though his head was bowed slightly and his face still had a red tinge. This, however, didn't faze Namjoon. He reminded himself to pick up his jaw from the floor as he took in the sight of his betrothed. The blond Prince was breathtakingly beautiful. Big, brown eyes looking downcast, leading the gaze to full, plush lips and a smooth curves of his jaw and neck; all soft edges and slender limbs. A thin silver chain circled the prince's head, instead of the stiff, metal crowns his parents wore, adorned with a pink pearl rather than the traditional Anunian emerald. He wore an ornate, pale green brocade, form- fitting around the torso and accentuating his broad shoulders. It was fastened asymmetrically down the right side of his chest, and there was an open slit at the bottom of the otherwise floor-length robe, showcasing detailed leather boots. The Prince descended the stairs, coming to stand on the other side of the thrones, head still bowed from embarrassment. "Kim Namjoon." Namjoon stood upright at the sound of his name. The seated King made a "come hither" gesture. Namjoon obeyed, coming forward to stand before the foreign royals. At a wave of the King's hand, the gorgeous Prince came forward, stepping down the steps in front of the throne, to stand just before Namjoon. "Kim Namjoon, this is my youngest son, Kim Seokjin. I am assured that you will treat him well." Namjoon took one of the prince's, Seokjin's, hands in his own, bending to press a light kiss on the back of the smooth knuckles. "I promise, Your Majesty, I will care for your son to the best of my ability. He will want for nothing." The King only grunted in response. Seokjin tentatively accepted Namjoon's outstretched elbow, and with an encouraging nod from Namjoon's parents, the two strode out the palace doors. Namjoon helped Seokjin into the waiting carriage before settling in himself, drawing the curtains shut to block out the sun that was just past its peak. With a slight wave of Namjoon's hand, the carriage took off, rattling slightly against the polished cobblestone of the city streets. The two royals sat in an awkward silence, but it was Seokjin who spoke first. "Where are we going?" he asked, voice high-pitched and soft, sweet and melodic. "Just a little over the border," Namjoon replied, peeking out of the curtains to be sure the horseman wasn't trying to kidnap them, or anything. "Just a little place I like to visit in my free time." "Oh. Alright." They settle back into silence again. Not to blame them. What do you say when you meet the person you're supposed to marry for the first time? "Oh, I almost forgot!" Namjoon started, bringing forward the flower he'd been holding for the past ten minutes. "For you." It was a pink lotus, plucked from the small pond just a bit away from the palace. Seokjin's eyes lit up. He took the lotus from Namjoon's much bigger hands, cupping it in his own, a contented smile making his face shine. He looked even more beautiful when he smiled, Namjoon decided. Seokjin turned his smile to Namjoon. "Thank you, it's lovely," he said, in his soft voice, before tucking the short stem of the blossom behind his left ear. Looking at his smiling face now, Namjoon decided, he could get used to this. =============================================================================== Namjoon's "little place" was a medium-sized flat of land perched atop a cliff, overlooking a plain of grass and meadow. In the distance, the sun could be seen, beginning its sweep back to the horizon. The carriage was stopped a short way's away, and Namjoon walked Seokjin over to the edge, stopping a few meters away, where a large tree acted as a shade. He spread out a blanket over the soft, trimmed grass, taking a seat and gesturing for Seokjin to do so as well. "So this is your place?" Seokjin remarked, stretching out his legs and leaning back comfortably. Namjoon nodded, setting their picnic basket just off to the side. "Yes, it is. Do you like it?" "It's beautiful, there's no denying that," Seokjin replied, "But I suppose I'm a little underqualified to decide that." "Why?" Seokjin shrugged. "I've never been outside of the city." "Really?" Namjoon pulled up one of his legs, to rest his arm down. Seokjin, unfortunately, couldn't do that, lest he ruin his much-too-pretty robe. "Yeah.. I've never really been allowed to." "Would you like to travel to other places?" "I suppose, if they all look as good as this." Namjoon smiled. He could lose himself in the way the sunlight filtering through the foliage above lit up Seokjin's eyes, accentuating his cheekbones, making his hair look like it was made of light. "You know," Seokjin started, "You're a lot nicer than I expected you to be." Namjoon lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?" "Well, for one, you asked to meet me before the wedding. Most people wouldn't care." "Well of course. Why wouldn't I want to get to know the person I may as well spend the rest of my life with?" Seokjin's lips curved slightly, but his head bowed. "I know. But.. Well.. I suppose I've simply never met a royal quite like you." "Royals that aren't hell-bent on getting what they want?" "Royals that care." Seokjin's face was awash in the light peach glow of the setting sun. "The only royals I've met are my family, and, well, you've seen them. You know they aren't the warmest of people." Namjoon blushed with embarrassment. "Well, I wouldn't say that." "Oh, come on now. You know it's true." "Ah, I suppose." "I haven't quite met your parents, but I have met the old king of the kingdom to the west." "Degue?" "Yes. By God, if my family is cold, then that old man is like the dead of winter." "Well, his son will be taking over soon. I'm good friends with him, he's a nice guy." "That's sounds alright. But that's beside the point." Seokjin brought his eyes to Namjoon's. "You're a very nice man. I hope we can make this work." Namjoon didn't notice that Seokjin's slender fingers were suddenly interlaced with his own. "I hope so, too." His other hand came up to caress Seokjin's cheek, closing the gap between them so their faces were just inches apart. "Maybe we can learn to love each other." Seokjin smiled. "Maybe." It was Namjoon who leaned in first. Seokjin's lips were as soft and pillowy as they looked. Their eyes fluttered shut, lost in the wonder of the chaste kiss. Bathed in the warmth of the golden sun, it felt like an eternity before they pulled apart. When they did, the first thing Namjoon saw was the contented smile that crossed Seokjin's lips. "Seokjin?" "Yes?" "I think I like you." Seokjin's laugh was like a fresh breath of air on a spring morning. "I think I like you, too." =============================================================================== Their wedding day came about much quicker than expected, and went by even faster. Before he knew it, Seokjin was being carried up to their shared bedchambers bridal style, head nuzzling into Namjoon's shoulder. They both only had a glass or two of wine, favoring a pleasant buzz over full-on drunkenness. Seokjin's eyes were closed when Namjoon opened the bedroom door, only opening them when he was set down on the lush bedsheets. "Are you ready?" Namjoon looked too worried for Seokjin's taste. Seokjin gave him a reassuring smile, pulling him down to kiss him softly. "Yes, I'm ready." Seokjin was lounged back on the bed, head resting against the downy pillow. Namjoon hovered over him, kissing him slowly, deeply. With a light swipe over his lips, they parted, allowing their tongues to engage in an idle dance, exploring territory neither of them had experienced before. Deft hands unclasped the fasteners of Seokjin's ceremonial wedding robes, before slipping it down the broad shoulders, and casting the inhibiting clothes aside. Seokjin's hands found themselves on Namjoon's shoulders, at the nape of his neck, trying to ground himself against the new sensations, as Namjoon's hands swept deftly down his body. When Namjoon broke the kiss, Seokjin tried to follow him, an almost pathetic whine coming from his throat. Namjoon chuckled lowly. "Just wait a bit, sweetheart." Namjoon paused for a bit, to rid himself of his doublet and tunic, and to retrieve a little bottle of oil from the bedside table. Seokjin's eyes fell shut once more, as Namjoon's lips attached to the pulse point at the sensitive spot of his neck. "O-Oh... Namjoon..." Namjoon didn't stay at his neck for long, not wanting to leave marks, and came back up to capture Seokjin's lips once again. As he did so, he pulled down the loose pants Seokjin had worn beneath his robe. "Ah.." Namjoon ceased his movements. "Are you okay?" he asked, lips still brushing against Seokjin's. Seokjin nodded, face flushed a bit at his exposure. "I'm okay, go ahead." Namjoon wrapped a large hand around Seokjin's length, stroking at a leisurely pace to bring him to full hardness; Seokjin's breathing grew heavier. Namjoon pressed one more kiss to his lips before bringing an oil-slicked finger to his entrance. He just circled the rim at first, allowing Seokjin to acclimate to the new sensations. With a nod from Seokjin, he carefully began working the finger inside his hole, going slowly and pausing when needed to make sure Seokjin was comfortable. Slowly, a second and third finger were added, relaxing and stretching Seokjin with smooth and deliberate movements. Seokjin had one hand holding onto Namjoon's shoulder, the other was gripping the bedsheets like his life depended on it. Namjoon noticed this but was quick to console him. "Shh... It's okay," he murmured next to Seokjin's ear. "Relax... I've got you." Seokjin tried unsuccessfully to steady his breathing, but it didn't matter, because Namjoon crooked his fingers at exactly the right angle, causing Seokjin to cry out and arch up into his touch. "Ah.. Oh please," he mewled brokenly, "take me, please.." Namjoon couldn't help but smile at that, removing his fingers and wiping them on the sheets, and cupping Seokjin's face to kiss him again. "Anything you want." He removed his leggings, and coated his cock in the oil, stroking a few times before lining himself up to Seokjin's entrance. He looked up at Seokjin again. Through the slight haze of lust and alcohol, Namjoon saw and understood the agreement and trust his newlywed husband put in him. Slowly, carefully, the head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle. Namjoon groaned at the clenching heat, but restrained himself, watching Seokjin for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he continued to push in, enveloping his length in the hot passage. When his balls met the flesh of Seokjin's ass, he stopped. Seokjin was panting, his sweaty forehead pressed against Namjoon's own, trying to get accustomed to the slight burn and the new feeling of being unbelievably full. He felt Namjoon kiss him again, calming him, placating him. His eyes were shut tight, but he muttered a soft "Go ahead" to Namjoon, hands steadied on his solid shoulders. "Okay." Namjoon held himself up by his forearms on either side of Seokjin's head, and gave an experimental roll of his hips. The effect was immediate, drawing a loud, pleasured moan from Seokjin. Namjoon groaned a bit himself, feeling the patterns of Seokjin's passage rub against his cock, clenching around him. He continued to thrust into him, languidly rolling his hips and drinking in the lovely moans that he elicited from his partner. He kept his movements gentle and loose, angling his hips in order to hit the spot within Seokjin that made him cry out. Seokjin's head was thrown back, lost in the overwhelming sensations of pleasure. "Ah!... Oh, Namjoon.." Namjoon kissed along his jaw, murmuring encouragement: "I got you, sweetheart... I got you.." He brought one hand down to wrap around Seokjin's neglected cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, bringing them both to the brink of orgasm. Seokjin's cries grew louder and more desperate. "Oh god! Namjoon I--ah!" "Just let it go, sweetheart." With a wanton moan, Seokjin climaxed, shooting ropes of white along his chest and over Namjoon's hand. Namjoon finished shortly after, the flexing muscles of Seokjin's hole bringing him to orgasm. Namjoon carefully pulled out, not wanting to over-sensitize his partner. His limbs were wobbly and he breathed hard, but he managed to get up and retrieve a washcloth to clean them both. Once he had wiped the last of the cum off their bodies, he tossed the rag to the side, climbing into the bed, pulling Seokjin close to him. "Are you okay?" "Mhm..." Seokjin murmured sleepily in response, quickly drifting off. Namjoon smiled, pressing a kiss to his blond locks, and welcomed sleep. Chapter End Notes did i mention im doing jokers too? ***** Ace of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Ace of Diamonds represents a letter or coin. It indicates some new money or new information entering one’s life. It can also have to do with a sudden shift in luck, good or bad. Additionally, due to the solitary nature of the pip, it could mean being very careful with your news, luck, or money—keeping it to yourself, as it were. Taehyung hummed to himself as he sorted through the shelves of bandages, ingredients, and various liquids. Despite his quite wild personality, he did prefer to have his workspace as clean and organized as possible. Jeongguk had tried to help, but after scolding him repeatedly that "no, basil and bay leaves are not the same thing" and "please don't mix the magnesium and manganese," they decided it would be best if Taehyung worked alone. Jeongguk needed to go back to the smithy, anyway. Currently, however, said Jeongguk was "testing out" a newly made sword in the courtyard-slash-training area below Taehyung's window (shirtless, Taehyung noted with a smirk). He paused from stacking the rolls of gauze to look down out the window. Jeongguk was hacking away at a wooden target, with noticeably much better control and technique. Taehyung could see the muscles rippling under his tanned skin, sweat glistening in the afternoon sun. Taehyung forced himself to tear his gaze away before he ran downstairs and flung himself on his boyfriend. Taehyung suppressed a giggle at the scene in his head, of himself running into the courtyard, flailing and collapsing onto the poor Jeongguk, shouting "Take me!" His internal scenario was interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. "Come in!" Taehyung called, still tending to his over-filled shelf of equipment. He heard the door open and close before he turned to face the new occupant. "Oh, Jimin!" He smiled, throwing an arm over his shoulders and escorting him over to the cot. Jimin had taken to wearing scarves more often, due to the chill of the oncoming autumn, Taehyung supposed. "Let's see here, eh?" Taehyung said, letting the suddenly very silent Jimin have a seat. He noticed the slight flinch when he reached for his scarf, but didn't say anything. He carefully peeled away the scarf, frowning at what he saw. The ring of dark bruises, which just last week were fading to almost disappearance, were back in full swing. Deep, purpled skin, accented with fresher, red marks. Taehyung felt sick as he thought about where Jimin might have gotten them. But he kept his questions in, for the time being. "It was from an acc--" Jimin's voice was weak and broken, making it pointless to try and lie, but Taehyung knew better. He shushed him. "Your throat probably has more damage as well. I'll mix up a steamer for you." Taehyung walked over to his work counter, picking little bottles of essence (lemon, chamomile, eucalyptus) from his neatly arranged cabinet. As he mixed the essences with water over his little stove, his mind was still running. How could Jimin have relapsed? Inwardly he slapped himself. A week ago, just a few days after the incident at the party, Jimin's bruises and throat were practically healed already, so Taehyung had stupidly decided that he didn't need regular checkups anymore. He wondered, how on earth did Jimin get the bruises in the first place? When Taehyung began treating him, he thought it was from someone abusive in his life, which was reasonable. He didn't talk about it with Jimin because he had supposed Jimin was away from said abusive person. So how in god's name did Jimin get the exact same bruises again? While deep inside his head, Taehyung nearly missed the pot of water boiling over. He cursed, extinguishing the flame and pouring the water into a bowl, wrapping it with a towel and bringing it back over to Jimin. As his patient obediently bent his head over the bowl, Taehyung strained to hold his tongue. Instead, he silently retreated to his work corner, meticulously replacing the vials of fluid, cleaning the spilled water, cleaning and storing away the pot. He knew that Jimin was extremely tight-lipped himself, and he didn't want to add any more attain to his throat. Taehyung pursed his lips. Perhaps Yoongi would know. Or... Taehyung stopped himself. Yoongi was the reason Jimin was here. Yoongi had saved Jimin from the slums. He couldn't possibly be the one hurting him, could he? Taehyung resigned himself to go to Yoongi. He was worried about Jimin. =============================================================================== After Jimin had weakly cleared his throat to signal to Taehyung that he was finished, Taehyung had taken the bowl from him, and sent him off, but not before mixing a few drops of imported peppermint oil with a small bottle of honey, with the instructions to swallow some every day in the morning and before bedtime. Taehyung had cleaned the bowl and made sure his shelves and cabinets were spick and span, then closed up shop to go look for the King. It was easy to find him, as he had been cooped up in his workroom for the past several days and, lo and behold, there he was. Taehyung rapped impatiently against the open door. Yoongi looked up. "Oh, Taehyung." He stood, pushing the bits of platinum fringe out of his eyes. "What do you need?" "I wanted to talk about Jimin." At this, Taehyung could see the visible strain that came upon Yoongi's features: his jaw clenched slightly, and his posture became more drawn and defensive. "What about Jimin?" Taehyung crossed his arms, going into "doctor mode" as Jeongguk called it. "His bruises and throat are getting worse. I didn't ask about it at the beginning because I thought the problem was resolved, and because I wanted to give Jimin some space if he was escaping an abusive household, but now it's clear that something is still terribly wrong." His eyes were glaring, almost accusing. "Someone is hurting him." It took a few seconds for Yoongi to respond, but even when he did, he spoke in short, clipped tones. "Thank you, Taehyung. I'll address this." "' Address this? With all due respect, Your Majesty ," Taehyung's voice was brimming with rage and angry mockery that only he and few others could get away with, "This isn't some minuscule matter that you can just brush off! This is Park Jimin, who, from what you said, is your best childhood friend. He won't even talk to you and you treat him like he's no more than a pet dog!" Yoongi remained silent. "You two act like you don't even know each other! You keep saying how much he means to you, how much you care about him, yet you can't seem to say anything to him or about him!" "..." "Well unlike you, I actually like Jimin, and I'd like to keep him safe and healthy and alive ." Yoongi stood frozen as Taehyung rolled his eyes in disappointment and disgust. "What kind of friend are you?" was Taehyung's final quip before storming out of the study; the air displacement causing some of the papers to flutter to the floor. ... ... ... Of course, Yoongi knew that it was no coincidence that the bruises returned after Jimin started continuing his... affair with Hoseok. He didn't wholly know why he chose to say nothing. It simply didn't feel like the right time. ***** Two of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary This card is about sharing, whether that’s news and gossip, or sharing your luck or fortune with someone else. The opposite of the Ace, it rings reminiscent of the phrase "a little bird told me," and echoes the passage of information. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Seokjin blinked at the warm rays of sunshine streaming in through the windows, shining across his face. He stretched up his arms, sighing at the sudden freedom of his cramped muscles. He rubbed his eyes, before climbing out of bed and padding over to the bureau, where Namjoon was poring over some papers. Seokjin rested his chin on Namjoon's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist.   "Morning, love," Seokjin murmured, morning voice deep and gravelly.   "Morning." Namjoon's reply sounded seemingly indifferent, but Seokjin felt the dimples beneath his lips when he pressed a kiss to his husband's cheek.   Seokjin looked over at the bureau. "What'you doing there?"   "Messenger just brought in the mail. I thought I'd go over as much as I could before the day starts," Namjoon answered, tearing open a letter bearing the Min family crest. "Ah, from Yoongi. Hmm.. Border laws, politics, the Far Western kingdoms..."   "I'll leave you to it then," Seokjin said, patting Namjoon on the shoulder, before walking over to the door, to tell the nearest servant to send up their breakfast.   The minutes Seokjin spent waiting were absolutely boring, so he went back to hugging Namjoon.     "Love, I'm busy."     "And I'm bored."     Namjoon continued to diligently sift through the letters even as Seokjin nuzzled into his neck.     Pouting, Seokjin pulled away to stand beside Namjoon, snatching a few papers. "Let me take a look at these."     Namjoon paused, looking unsure, but nodded his head. "Breakfast takes forever anyways."     Seokjin grinned in victory, before turning his attention to the letter at the top of his pile. He quirked a brow in interest when he recognized the wax seal.     He peeled open the envelope, lifting out the crisply folded piece of paper. He flipped it open, eager for some words from his faraway family.     What he read made him freeze. Seokjin's expectant expression became blank, his jaw hanging open as he scanned the paper.     Namjoon only looked up when he heard the schiiiick of paper falling onto the floor. His face twisted in concern, arm reaching out to steady a shell-shocked Seokjin. Glassy eyes met his. Seokjin's gaze flitted from Namjoon to the floor, before his knees suddenly buckled. Namjoon held him as he collapsed to the floor, holding him against his chest.     "He's dead," Seokjin said. "My brother. He's dead." =============================================================================== Jimin gasped for breath as Hoseok relinquished his hold for a few seconds, though it was difficult to do so while being pounded from behind. His hands gripped the headboard tightly, mind slightly hazy from the lack of oxygen. He registered the ache in his knees, the grunts from behind him, and the slapping of skin on skin echoing in the room.     What little air he'd drawn into his lungs was forced out when Jimin was suddenly flipped onto his back. It eased the pain in his knees but allowed Hoseok to trap his wrists in one hand and pin them to the bed.     Hoseok's eyes were closed, lost in pleasure as he quickly and roughly moved in and out of Jimin. With the new angle, the head of his shaft was pressing against Jimin's prostate with each thrust. Jimin moaned from the stimulation, back arching. "H-Hoseok--"     The elder's eyes flew open, but they were scarily unfocused. His other hand clamped around Jimin's neck again, cutting off his voice and air. Jimin shook with fear, but he felt his orgasm approaching nonetheless. Hoseok's speed and ferocity didn't falter.     "H-Hos-seok--" Jimin croaked. He searched for something, anything in Hoseok's eyes, trying to reach out to him. But he found nothing.     Jimin let out a strangled cry. He felt his own cum splatter his chest before the black spots in his vision carried him to unconsciousness. Chapter End Notes I have to say, I'm very disappointed with this chapter.. It's waaaaay too short, and writers block is a pain in the ass. But I wanted to keep to my schedule, so I hope you'll forgive me! ***** Three of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Three of Diamonds can be represented by gifts. This card shows generosity—sometimes even unwilling generosity. This may seem like a sign of irresponsibility, but it can also simply receiving a gift, or an expansion of fortunes which allows the person to be generous. "Alright, then. I'll start packing."     Yoongi held his breath as Jimin quietly shut the door. Once again, he'd lost the nerve to talk to Jimin about the actual situation that was plaguing his mind. Yoongi "reasoned" with himself, saying this wasn't the right time, Jimin was close to Seokjin and would be greatly affected by the news. But all the reasoning in the world couldn't stop the pangs of guilt that stung his heart as he walked away.     He found his way to Taehyung (and Jeongguk's) bedroom (they shared it, but it was supposed to be a "secret"). The door opened a few moments after a firm knock. Jeongguk stood in the doorway, shirtless and wearing only leggings, his tunic tangled in meaty fingers.     "Oh, Your Majesty," he greeted with a slight bow of his head.     "Evening," Yoongi responded. "I need you and Taehyung to pack. We'll be staying in Anune for a few days."     Jeongguk frowned. He pulled the wrinkled tunic over his head, and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "What's going on in Anune? And why the both of us?"     "You remember Seokjin, right? King Namjoon's husband?"     Jeongguk nodded.     "His brother, the King of Anune, passed away. Seokjin invited Jimin and I to Anune to attend the funeral." Yoongi sighed, "As per custom when visiting a kingdom that doesn't quite like me, I'm required by law to bring Hoseok. I want you to keep an eye on him, his actions have been a bit--" Yoongi bit his lip as he pondered his choice of words, "--worrisome."     Jeongguk looked more than a little perturbed. "And why do you need Taehyung? I don't think it's good for him to be going--"     "Not good for me to be going where?" Taehyung had suddenly appeared next to the bed, leaning against one of the bedposts, hair wet, and nude, save for a towel slung around his waist. He had a blank expression on his face.     Jeongguk glared at Yoongi before responding. "It's nothing, babe."     "Nothing?" Taehyung said, raising an eyebrow. "Seeing how tense you are, Gukkie, it's hard to believe that 'It's nothing, babe.'"     "I just need you to come along to watch over Jimin for a few days." The warning look from Jeongguk encouraged Yoongi to be careful with his words. "There's an event in Anune we will be attending."     "An event?" Taehyung said, dripping with false excitement and thinly veiled sarcasm. "Why didn't you say so?"     "We leave in two days, alright?"     Jeongguk nodded, lips a thin line, before shutting the door. =============================================================================== Upon arriving in Anune, Jimin immediately embraced a waiting Seokjin, causing them both to burst into tears. "I'm so sorry," Jimin murmured into Seokjin's neck. Seokjin smiled even as tears shimmered on his cheeks, before looking up at Yoongi in thanks. Yoongi, unsettled by the harsh glares of the Anunian guards, merely nodded.     ~-~     The ceremony itself was much longer than any Deguian funeral, Jeongguk thought with unease. He had expected a short prayer, maybe a eulogy or two, a song, and a finish. Instead, the funeral consisted of a full Mass, a praying of the rosary, and eulogies from the entire Royal family.     The King's corpse was laid in an open coffin, on a layer of white silk, and clothed in a robe with a rich olive hue. His skin was pale, and as cold as his infamous demeanor.     Jeongguk's eyes never left Taehyung, save for the occasional obligatory glance at Hoseok. Taehyung wouldn't look him in the eye, but Jeongguk saw his expression slowly morph as he realized what kind of "event" this was.     Jeongguk shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as Seokjin's mother stepped down from the ambo, and the young wife of the late King took her place to begin her eulogy. His hand found Taehyung's. Taehyung seemed to snap out of his musings. He looked at Jeongguk, and leaned over.     "How fitting, huh?" Taehyung whispered. "He's wearing green."     Jeongguk tensed. "And?"     Taehyung had an odd glint in his eye. "Those loose-lipped attendants speak so loudly." He clicked his tongue, "They say the King was poisoned, by the Queen herself."     "Tae!" Jeongguk hissed. "You can't say that!"     Taehyung rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying. It fits. Green for poison." He sat back. "Perhaps that's the reason why there was a shortage of red fabric while I was--"     Jeongguk's hand clenched around his boyfriend's. They locked glares. A battle of wills, daring the other to speak first.     Finish your sentence. I dare you.     Scold me. I dare you.     Taehyung's gaze burned into Jeongguk's, but they both refused to concede. The two remained frozen, even through the light murmurs that arose as the Queen finished her eulogy. Still fires that blazed with equal intensity seemed to set each other alight.     Their staring contest was interrupted when Yoongi, who was seated beside Taehyung, reached over and smacked both their hands, extinguishing them with a stern glance. Taehyung huffed indignantly, wrenching his hand away and turning his attention to the teary-eyed Seokjin at the ambo.     Jeongguk looked forward as well, still uncomfortable in the hard wooden pews. He tuned out Seokjin's eulogy, however.     He should have never allowed Taehyung to come here. Sure, Yoongi might have had him killed, but it would be worth it. Taehyung never handled death in a good way, even if it didn't personally affect him. Jeongguk had feigned sickness on the day of Yoongi's father's funeral just to prevent Taehyung from attending. He didn't know if he could handle the aftermath of... what happened... again. =============================================================================== After the funeral, the congregation gathered in the banquet hall of the palace. Namjoon, standing with Seokjin, scanned the crowd.     "What's going on over there?" He wondered, gesturing.     Seokjin looked over. The young Queen, Sooyoung, seemed to be arguing with both his parents and her own. He nestled his hand in the crook of Namjoon's arm and tugged him over.     "--Majesties, I know this is a bad time, but I just want to know..." The Queen grew silent as Namjoon and Seokjin approached.     "Eomma, Appa." Seokjin greeted his parents. "Your Majesties," he bowed to his in-laws. "Sooyoung." The Queen received no more than a slight nod of the head and a slight smile.     "Excuse us for interrupting," Namjoon apologized. "We just wanted to, ah, properly greet you."     "It's quite alright, son," Seokjin's father said. "Although it seems that Sooyoung has some important matters to speak about."     "Yes, thank you, Your Majesty," Sooyoung answered with a pointed look at Seokjin. "I just wanted to make sure of who will rule Anune as of my husband's passing."     "Sooyoung," her father scolded her. "You know it is against tradition for a woman to rule by herself, not to mention that you are being extremely rude."     "Perhaps it's time for a change," Sooyoung remarked indignantly, with complete disregard for the last comment.     "Absolutely not." Her father turned to Seokjin's parents. "I would assume that you would like to resume power?"     The elderly couple exchanged glances. "Unfortunately not," his father replied. "My health is not the best, and I do not want my country to have a weak leader." He extended a hand to Seokjin and Namjoon. "As my second son is wedded to the King of Sule, it is only right that they both rule my kingdom as well."     "Very well," Sooyoung's mother conceded.     Sooyoung looked indignant. "But Mother! Father!"     She was silenced with a harsh look from her father. "It is final. And stop it with the attitude."     Sooyoung seemed to bite her tongue. "Very well," she curtly responded. "Your Majesties," she gave a slight bow, before leaving.     The remaining royals stood in the silence for a bit.     "I don't know what is with that girl," Sooyoung's mother remarked. "She's barely mourning his death."     "We sincerely apologize for her rudeness," her father said, bowing to Namjoon, Seokjin and his parents.     "It's quite alright," Seokjin's mother said. "Perhaps it's been just a bit too hard on her."     "Perhaps," Sooyoung's father still seemed uneasy. He gave his wife a look. "If you'll excuse us." With a slight dip of the head, they were gone as well.     Finally alone, Seokjin's parents turned to him and Namjoon. Seokjin's mother took his face in her hands. "Oh, my boy," she sighed, "this must have been so difficult for you." She kissed his cheek and hugged him.     "I'm alright, Eomma," he said, kissing her back.     Namjoon was still visibly uncomfortable, in shock from the decision. "Are you sure you want to entrust us with Anune?"     "Of course," Seokjin's father answered with a warm smile, patting Namjoon's shoulder. "You two have done a wonderful job with Sule; and there's no one else I'd rather have ruling this kingdom." He turned to Seokjin. "Your brother was a great man."     Seokjin gave a slight smile and nodded. "I know, Appa."     "And I know you are, too." His father beamed, still full of sadness, but hope, as well. He embraced the young couple. "Both of you." ***** Four of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary This card symbolizes the absence of news. With the Four of Diamonds, the card indicates a dull waiting period, possibly a prolonged one. This can mean “no news is good news,” or that the client must wait for a bit before they can receive a proper resolution to their situation. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes "Hey."     Jimin turned. "Oh, hi, Seokjin," he replied, as the elder came to sit beside him on the bed of the guestroom.     "Why are you in here? We prepared four guestrooms for all of you; there's an empty one at the end of the hall."     "Um... I'm sharing a room with one of them."     Seokjin looked on in interest. "With whom?"     "Uh.."     "Not Taehyung or Jeongguk, we all know they're sleeping together," Seokjin chuckled. He gasped with a thought. "Are you sleeping with Yoongi?"     "No, hyung..." He couldn't meet Seokjin's eyes as he finished, "I'm staying with Lord Hoseok."     "Oh." Silence permeated the air as Seokjin searched for something to say. "Are you...?"     Jimin flushed. "Yeah, we... Uh... Sleep together."     "Does Yoongi know?"     "I... I suppose." Sweat was beading along Jimin's forehead. His face was burning.     "Jimin. Look at me."     Jimin obeyed, swallowing as he prepared himself for whatever lecture Seokjin had for him.     "Look, Jimin," Seokjin tried to look reassuring, "I'm all for you doing what you want, but this just seems so sudden. Didn't you just meet him when you moved into the palace?"     "Um..." Jimin's face was red, turning hot under the pressure. "Not... Necessarily."     "Jimin?" Seokjin questioned. He placed a hand on his forehead. "Oh, goodness, you're burning up."     "I'm fine, hyung, really--"     "No. Here, take off your doublet, you must be so hot under all those layers... Oh my..." Seokjin mumbled to himself. He had unbuttoned the top of Jimin's top, loosening the high collar and exposing the circle of bruises around his neck.     "Seokjin-hyung..."     "Jimin, is this why you had an attack at the party?"     Jimin froze. "...yes."     Seokjin bit his lip, debating whether or not to ask his next question. "Is someone doing this to you?"     "...yes..."     "Is it Yoongi? I know you know him from before, and he did bring you to the castle so suddenly--"     "No! No, hyung, it's not Yoongi-hyung, I promise."     "Okay," Seokjin breathed with relief, thankful that his preconceptions of Deguians weren't true. The relief quickly left his features when he realized the other candidate. "Is it Hoseok?"     "Hyung, I can explain--"     "He's abusing you?!"     "It's not what it seems like!"     "What does it seem like, then?" Seokjin asked, enraged that someone would be hurting Jimin, and that Jimin was somewhat defending him.     "I..." Jimin started, but faltered. "I knew him from when I was... Um..."     Seokjin, understanding that being aggressive would not bode too well for this situation, attempted to calm himself. "It's okay, Jimin. I'm sorry for my outburst. Go ahead."     "I was... I worked--I used to be... Umm.." Jimin hid his face in shame. "I worked in a brothel."     Needless to say, Seokjin was shocked, but he made an effort to hide it. "Alright. That's okay, Jimin. You can continue."     "You don't think any less of me?"     "Of course not. Circumstances can be tough, I know that."     "Okay... Um, Hoseok was one of my regulars."     "And that's how you knew him?"     "Yes.."     "And the bruises?"     Jimin felt another rush of blood to his face, and rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "I just supposed, that, you know, people have their kinks... Like you know, you and Namjoon probably do some stuff..."     Seokjin's face turned tomato red, and his eyes grew wide.     Jimin looked up, and, seeing Seokjin's expression, panicked. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry I didnt mean like--"     "It's alright Jimin," Seokjin said, still a bit flustered. He cleared his throat. "Er.. Kink or not--"     Jimin grinned sheepishly in apology.     Seokjin nodded, patting his shoulder. "--It still doesn't excuse the fact that he is hurting you."     "I-I just thought, uh," Jimin stuttered. "Well, we do this.. Thing in the b- bedroom. He, uh, he calls me 'Minnie,' and he wants me to call him 'Master' and, well, I just thought he went to far into his persona, or maybe he has a thing with control."     "Do you like it?"     Jimin choked. "Umm... Kind of..?"     "Well that's okay, like you said, everyone has their kinks."     Jimin wondered if his face could get any redder.     "But to an extent. He's causing you actual harm to your health, that's why Yoongi had your physician come along."     "How do you know that?"     Seokjin have a knowing smile. "We did have to prepare four bedrooms."     "Oh right."     Seokjin rubbed the tense muscles of Jimin's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "Do either of them know?"     "They both know about the damage, and Yoongi knows that Hoseok and I sleep together, but I haven't told them that he is the reason behind he bruises," Jimin answered slowly.     Seokjin took a moment before responding, choosing his words carefully. "Do you enjoy sleeping with Hoseok? Or is it for his benefit?"     Jimin blinked. His gaze turned downcast once again. "I... I'm not quite sure."     "You don't have to stay here, you know. The guestroom is open." They both knew the other implication behind Seokjin's words: a silent urge to stop this... affair.     "Thank you, hyung. I'll think about it."     Jimin's answer wasn't satisfactory for Seokjin. "You could at least tell Yoongi or your physician the full truth."     "I don't... think I can do that..."     Seokjin sighed. "That's alright, Jimin, I understand. Just promise me you'll tell if he hurts you again."     Jimin nodded.     Seokjin pulled him into a hug, enfolding him in his welcoming arms. "Promise me you'll be okay."     "I will, hyung."     They pulled apart, small smiles gracing their faces.     "I should go, Namjoon will be looking for me," Seokjin said.     "Alright."     Seokjin gave Jimin one last look, searching him, trying to make sure that he would keep himself safe. Somewhat satisfied, he rose, making for the door.     "Seokjin-hyung?"     "Yes?"     "Can I ask, why are you so worried about me? You just attended your brother's funeral."     Seokjin smiled. "My brother once told me: 'Mourn the dead, but cry for the living.' You're my friend, Jimin. I care about you."     "Oh." Jimin said. "Thank you, hyung."     "Anytime, Jimin." =============================================================================== "What the hell was that?!"     Taehyung looked up innocently. "Profanity."     "Don't do that," Jeongguk pleaded. "You know what I'm talking about."     "As a matter of fact, I don't," Taehyung leaned back, hands planted on the duvet. "Enlighten me, if you please."     Jeongguk was brimming with frustration. "'It fits?' 'Green for poison?' 'A shortage of red fabric?'"     Taehyung still appeared unfazed. "Your point?"     "You can't make comments like that at a funeral, Tae. Especially after--"     "Alright, okay!"     Jeongguk breathed heavily, with forced calm. "I should never have let you come."     "Excuse me?"     "You worry me, Tae!"     Taehyung's eyes were flaming again. "You don't have to fucking worry about me. You're not my fucking father!" Angry, he stuffed his clothes back into the large bag he carried, and began storming out the door.     "Tae!" Jeongguk cried out. "Tae, I'm sorry! Come back!"     "Get the hell off my back, Jeongguk!" He slammed the door behind him.     Taehyung found his way to the empty guestroom he had found earlier. To his surprise, Jimin was unpacking his things into the drawers.     "Don't ask," was his response to Jimin's confused look. He nodded toward the bed. "You okay to share?" Chapter End Notes Odd question: how do you pronounce "Sule" "Degue" and "Anune" in your head? For me, it's "sool" "deh-gyew" and "ah-noo-nay" ***** Five of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Five of Diamonds represents good luck, or laughter. This card shows the subject surrounded by friends, fortune, and happiness. It’s not the all-encompassing joy found in other cards, but it’s generally positive nonetheless. Depending on context, however, it can also mean something like “the last laugh,” and have slightly more sinister connotations. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Jeongguk stirs at the sound of shuffling in the dark. He groans, fumbling for a match on the bedside table and lighting the lamp.     Taehyung was rummaging through the drawers. "I forgot my underwear," he says curtly.     "Sure you did," Jeongguk snorted, voice still low and groggy with sleep.     Taehyung didn't move, still stubbornly posed with one hand buried in the drawer. After a beat, Jeongguk sighed.     "C'm'ere, you," he mumbled, gesturing for Taehyung to come over.     Taehyung feigned reluctance as he glided over to the bed, slipping beneath the covers and snuggling back against his boyfriend's chest. "I'm not easy, you know."     "Uh huh," Jeongguk countered, reaching one arm beneath Taehyung to pull him in closer. "That's why you're back in our bed."     "Jimin hogs the blankets!"     "Sure he does." Jeongguk paused to extinguish the lamp before he lifted a hand to caress Taehyung's hair. "I'm sorry for before."     Taehyung was playing with the fingers of Jeongguk's other hand, letting it warm his cold ones. "I know. I'm sorry too."     Jeongguk smiled, pushing aside the elder's fringe to place a light peck at his temple.     They stayed like that for a while, the seconds blending into minutes as the two just lay there, enveloped in each other's warmth and presence.     "Promise me you're okay?"     Taehyung stiffened at Jeongguk's question. He sat up, a wild mix of frantic and frozen with eyes glinting in the dim light. "Why do you always have to say that?" He begged, annoyed and angry and frustrated.     "Tae, lie down," Jeongguk said slowly, in an attempt to pacify him, not wanting a repeat of before. "I just want to make sure you're okay. You did scare me there."     "It's not your place to worry!"     "I care about you. How can I not worry?"     "Jeongguk, please don't make me do this."     "I just want to make sure you're safe."     Taehyung's features contorted, taking on a pained, twisted expression. "Jeongguk, stop."     "Just stay here, please, Tae?" Jeongguk's fingers found Taehyung's once more, but the elder was quick to wrench them away.     "I'm--I'm sorry, I can't deal with this right now," Taehyung hiccuped, staggering back to the door in the dark, snatching a bundle of clothing from the drawer before he left. "I can't d-deal with you right now." =============================================================================== Several hours later, when the sky was just beginning to lighten, Jimin padded his way onto his room's balcony. There he found a very intoxicated Taehyung, seated beside a table bearing an almost-empty bottle of soju, a fresh one already tangled in his slim fingers.     "I didn't think you to be the morning drinker type," Jimin said, sliding into the other chair, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.     Taehyung nodded, raising his bottle slightly before tipping back another sip. "Well, I didn't think my boyfriend was the hovering mama type, but it looks like we're both discovering new things this morning."     Jimin gingerly picked up the near-empty bottle, sloshing the liquid around inside before bringing it to his lips, taking just a small sip. "We all have our moments where alcohol is the best therapist. The only question is the cause."     "You got that right," Taehyung snorted.     "What did Gukkie do?"     "Don't call him that," Taehyung slurred. "Makes him sound like a fucking little kid. Plus it reminds me of fucking him, and I don't want to have that on my mind right now."     Jimin sighed. "He really does love you, you know."     "Hah," Taehyung lifted his bottle again. "To the boy who 'really does love' me."     "You didn't answer the question, Tae."     "What question?"     "What did Jeongguk do?"     "You know Jiminnie? You really shouldn't be prying," Taehyung snapped back, voice still slowed from the alcohol. "Not when you got all your little secrets and whatnot."     It stung, there was no doubt about that. Jimin told himself that his friend's filter was gone because he was intoxicated, but the echo of truth in his words hung in the air like smoke.     "Fine then," Jimin ceded. He drank the last drops of the empty bottle, setting it to the side as he felt the warmth settle in his stomach and spread throughout his body. He debated whether or not to confess to Taehyung now. The younger wasn't so drunk that he'd forget everything, but it might be a little hazy. Jimin worried the drunkenness might alter Taehyung's reaction, even if it was already angry and disappointed.     Jimin stayed silent, leaning back in his chair and letting himself enjoy the light buzz. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, streaking the sky. The palace and city were beginning to stir, the sounds of talking and movement leisurely finding their ways to Jimin's ears.     Taehyung huffed suddenly, standing. He had finished a bit more than half his bottle, slamming it back down on the table. "'M gonna go sleep it off," he mumbled. He swayed on his way back to the bed, muttering under his breath about underwear and stolen blankets.     Jimin watched him go, sighing. The sunlight cut through the viridescent glass of the bottles, illuminating the worn wood of the table in green. Deciding to save the servants the work, and Taehyung the questioning looks of their friends, he picked up both bottles and exited the room.     Navigating the hallways of the palace in Degue was hard enough, and Jimin had been living there for months. The Anunian palace could have been a labyrinth for all Jimin knew.     He swished the remaining soju in the almost-empty bottle as he walked, debating whether or not to drink it or toss it out. Figuring that he would be having quite a long and dramatic day coming up, an excuse to sleep the whole day seemed a good idea. He downed the last of the clear liquid, feeling the slight burn on his tongue and at the back of his throat.     Somehow, he'd found his way to the kitchens. He plunked the empty bottles in a cart of rubbish. Now, the pressing matter was finding his way back...     The alcohol in his system did not help his thought processes. He stumbled many times, leaning against the wall for support. Through a haze, he barely registered someone approaching him.     "Jimin? What are you doing?" The voice was familiar, but sounded distant, as if underwater.     "Sleep," Jimin mumbled.     The person sighed, holding Jimin upright by his shoulders and helping him walk somewhat more steadily.     Jimin frowned in confusion when the bedroom they came upon didn't have a snoring Taehyung in the bed. The person, man, stranger, whatever, guided Jimin into the bed, wrapping the blankets around him.     "'S not m' room," Jimin murmured, already beginning to fall back asleep under the soft covers.     The person didn't answer, only stroked Jimin's hair for a moment before exiting, leaving Jimin alone in the room. Chapter End Notes Hi everyone, I've been having a generally very crappy couple of days, and i may not be able to post as often as I do. This is just a disclaimer so that if i screw up the schedule again, you will all know why. Love you all! <3 ***** Six of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Six of Diamonds conjures up images of streets of gold, representing good decisions. No, not the Yellow Brick Road, but the idea’s the same. The person on the right path and merely needs to continue doing what they are doing and success will come. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes It was late afternoon when Jimin woke up. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.     As his vision focused, he looked about in confusion. This room, though similar, was most definitely not the one he slept in the night before. His head ached slightly as he tried to recall the memories of last night, or rather, that morning. He knew he shouldn't drink, he was one hell of a lightweight.     Let's see, Taehyung was whining and drunk... Went to bed... Jimin made the mistake of drinking the rest... Got lost in the hallways... Brought to this room by...?     Jimin vaguely remembered recognizing the voice and face, but try as he might, he could not exactly place the person who helped him to bed. The throbbing in his head easing slightly, he hauled himself out of bed, padding over to the mirror leaning against one of the walls. His hair looked like a rat's nest, his sleep clothes were wrinkled and crumpled, and one of his arms was stiff from having been laid on whilst sleeping.     He made for the door, thinking to go back down to the kitchens, as he hadn't eaten for over half a day. However, as he reached for the knob, he jolted back, startled, when the door opened.     Standing in the doorway was a familiar face, bearing an unmistakeable smile and a bowl of rice and beef.     "Hoseok," Jimin breathed, surprised.     "Oh Jimin, you're up!" Hoseok greeted him, brushing past him to set the food on a desk. "Are you alright? You looked quite inebriated this morning. Sit down, sit down!"     Jimin takes a seat opposite Hoseok in the table. "Yes, I'm okay, thank you," he replies, gratefully taking the bowl of food from the other.     "That's good," Hoseok said, watching Jimin eagerly begin to scarf down the food. He started, carefully phrasing his question. "Are you going to stay with the physician again?"     Jimin looked up, looking like some mix of a deer caught in headlights and a chipmunk with stuffed cheeks.     Hoseok's eyes widened, frantic to amend his statement. "I mean, you don't have to, I was just under the impression that you'd be staying with me for our time here. You... Ah--You can stay with the physician if you like, but, you know, I'm always free--"     Jimin swallowed, a small smile gracing his features, hiding the inner turmoil beneath. "Of course I can stay with you tonight."     ~-~     They didn't intend to have sex.     At least, that's what Hoseok told himself.     But God, he loved sleeping with Jimin.     The wet, clenching heat that enveloped his cock as he pounded into him, the sweet, beautiful moans elicited from his full lips; it was absolutely addicting.     Hoseok was hovering above Jimin, hands planted on either side of him. Their skin glistened in the dim light of the pale moon. Sweat beaded on Hoseok's brow.     Water.     Jimin was like a whole new world to explore, to get lost in again and again. Hoseok never wanted to take his eyes off him.     Bubbles. Sunlight.     "Master, o-oh!" Jimin cried out, fingernails digging pink lines into the skin of Hoseok's back, but he didn't care.     Hoseok swooped down to nip at the skin beneath Jimin's ear, to suckle at the lobe. "Do you like this, Minnie?"     Jimin sobbed. "Yes, Master, oh god--!"     "Oh god!"     "You abomination!"     Hoseok's eyes slammed shut, hips still moving at their swift pace, even as he tried to block out the memories.     "I didn't raise you to be this way."     "Faggot."     His knuckles turned white as they tangled into the fabric of the pillows below Jimin.     "Your father and I have arranged a meeting with the daughter of the Kang family."     "Perhaps the presence of a proper lady will set you straight."     Hoseok buried his face in the crook of Jimin's shoulder, drinking in his scent; the sensations, the beautiful sensations; trying to lose himself in the beautiful person below him.     "You're the Jung's faggot?"     "You're so pretty, Minnie," Hoseok breathed harshly.     "Oh thanks, I know I'm pretty. Do you say that to the boys before you put your dick in their asses, too?"     One of Hoseok's hands found itself in the soft strands of Jimin's hair, tugging slightly, causing the high-pitched keens to multiply.     "Or do you prefer it up your own ass, you atrocity?"     Hoseok was starting to lose it.     "Godless freak."     "A-Ah.. Master!"     "Don't touch me!"     Hoseok captured Jimin's pillowy lips in his own, biting the lower lip til it turned cherry red.     Water.     Hoseok's hands wandered lower.     Drowning.     Fingers formed a necklace around Jimin's neck.     I can't breathe.     "M-Master--!" Jimin choked out. He looked desperately up into the other's eyes, finding them closed. "Hose--"     Hoseok's eyes flew open, but they were hazy, unfocused. Almost like he didn't even recognize Jimin.     Jimin clawed at Hoseok's grip, pressure building up in his face and chest as he strained for air. "Ho-Hoseok y-you're hurting me--"     Hoseok stilled. He pulled out of Jimin, but he couldn't seem to wrench his hands away. Jimin's erection wilted from the pain.     Tears streamed from his eyes. "Hoseok!"     In a last ditch effort, Jimin pulled as hard as he could at Hoseok's wrists. He managed to yank himself free. He threw himself from the bed, gasping and hiccupping as he tried to restore oxygen to his lungs. Sobbing, he wrapped one of the blankets around him and fled the room.     ~-~     Jimin broke through the first door he came across.     Yoongi looked up from his book, startled at first, but worry and concern quickly flooded his expression.     Jimin stumbled over to where the King sat on his bed, collapsing before him and bawling.     Book forgotten, Yoongi gathered the mess of a boy into his arms, pulling him into the bed and under the covers. Jimin was curled up in the fetal position, his face buried in Yoongi's chest, staining the fabric of his nightshirt with tears. Yoongi enfolded Jimin in his arms, pulling him in closer even as he cried.     "Shh... It's okay, I'm here," Yoongi murmured, rocking him back and forth, stroking his hair soothingly. "You're okay, you're safe."     It took several minutes of this before Jimin's cries quieted, and even longer before his breathing settled. His face was still wet with tears, but his eyes remained closed, having come down from his fit and into the serenity of sleep. Chapter End Notes Hello all! I just want to disclaim that I'm not doing so well right now. I'm trying as hard as I can to put out a chapter every two days, but it's getting really difficult with all the things going on. I'm still going to try, but if I miss a day, please don't be mad! On a side note: bon voyage ep 1 was so good! Also, I just rewatched the "bts waking each other up" video and oML SO MUCH CUDDLING ***** Seven of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Seven of Diamonds indicates that the questioner is being lied to. This lie almost always has to do with happiness. Perhaps the asker is happy being lied to, and little white lies sustain them. More often, though, the lies indicate trouble to come. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes The ride back to Degue was a tense one. Jimin didn't speak of the night before; in fact, he didn't speak at all. None of them did. Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi sat in silence for the entire duration of the ride, and Yoongi suspected that the situation was the same in the carriage carrying Hoseok and Jeongguk.     Upon their arrival, Yoongi noticed Jimin immediately making straight for the bedrooms. Yoongi instructed the servants to bring their respective bags up to their rooms before following after Jimin. He found him sitting on his bed, staring blankly into nothingness. Jimin barely acknowledged Yoongi's presence.     "He was the best partner I'd ever had," Jimin stated, devoid of emotion or expression.     Yoongi was almost hesitant to approach. "He was hurting you, Jimin."     "The choking wasn't even the worst part. His eyes were distant and hazy, like he wasn't even there."     Yoongi sighed. "Jimin..." He sat beside Jimin on the bed. "He was hurting you, but he can't hurt you anymore."     "I know." Jimin shied away from the elder's touch.     Yoongi didn't know what else to say, but Jimin's eyes were still trained on the floor.     "It's impossible for me to ever have a normal relationship, isn't it?"     "That's not true, Jimin, and you know that."     "Do I really?" Jimin's voice took on a mirthless tone. "I made a living fucking without feelings. The only semblance of a relationship I had was damaging to my health. How broken am I that I constantly came back to a man that was hurting me?" His breath caught. "Maybe I deserved it."     "Jimin--"     "I liked being with him, Yoongi! You never saw it, but he took care of me, he spent time with me, got to know me. I stayed, even when he hurt me... for him."     Yoongi couldn't stop the slight pang of hurt that came with those words, and his next question. "Did you love him?"     Jimin sucked in a breath and turned away, wringing his hands. It took several moments before he could answer. "I... I don't think I know what love is." There was another pause before he continued. "I don't understand love, and I don't think I ever will."     "That's not an answer, Jimin."     "Yoongi, how the hell am I supposed to know what love is? The only people who gave me any shreds of love disappeared along with my childhood. How am I supposed to love someone?"     Yoongi waited a bit before he responded, mulling over Jimin's words. "Who disappeared?"     Jimin's body stiffened, if not slightly. "Who else? My mother."     "You said 'people'."     "A slip of the tongue!" Jimin stammered.     A knowing smirk crossed Yoongi's face for a split second, despite the tense atmosphere. "Jimin."     "Fine!" Jimin admitted. "It was you! You were my best friend, I loved you, you loved me, but you left!"     Yoongi sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Jimin, as I've said countless times before."     "I know you are." Jimin crossed his arms, as if making a wall of protection in front of him. "Now you see? The bitch called Life ripped away all I had. The people I loved--" Jimin's angry shell finally began to crack. "I'm not sure if I can love someone again."     "Love is a complicated thing, that's true," Yoongi began. "But your past relationships and experiences have nothing to do with your capacity to love someone."     "Stop it, Yoongi," Jimin's voice hitched on his name. "I'm damaged."     "You and I both know that isn't true."     "Says who?"     "Says me." Yoongi placed his hands on Jimin's shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. "I won't let you speak or think of yourself in such a negative way. As your King, I forbid it," he added for good measure.     Jimin dropped his gaze, ashamed to look into his eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "Why do you care so much?" He asked softly.     "Because I'm your friend. Because, no matter what you say, I'm your friend. Because, even if you give me the silent treatment for six months, I'm your friend. Because like you said, I love you. Hey," Yoongi's hand tilted Jimin's chin back up. "I care about you. Nothing will ever change that."     Jimin pressed his lips together, conflicted, but he couldn't hide the small smile that just began to curl at the edges of his lips.     They were interrupted by a loud crash resonating through the halls, followed by raised voices and screams.     Both Jimin and Yoongi jerked up, standing.     "I'm to go find the source of that commotion," Yoongi said.     Jimin trailed behind him. "I'll help you." He was quieter now, like all the fight in him had left his body, but he walked with Yoongi nonetheless.     They listened for the increasingly louder yells, following them through the halls. Jimin stole glances at Yoongi every now and then, wondering why he couldn't read the King as well as Yoongi could read him. His inner turmoil was put aside, as they came upon Taehyung and Jeongguk's shared bedroom. Jimin's jaw fell at what he saw.     Taehyung was standing against the wall, his face red and streaked with tears, brandishing one of two ceramic flower vases. The red and white carnations had spilled onto the floor in a puddle of water, beside the other vase, which was shattered and in pieces. Jeongguk was standing by the bed, hands up in a defensive matter, trying to precariously step closer to his partner without impaling himself on the shards of ceramic.     "Don't touch me!" Taehyung screeched, shaking the vase. "Don't come any closer!"     Jeongguk kept his voice low. "Tae, you're okay, calm down..."     "Tae, put the vase down." Jimin shakily stepped in. He managed to meet the other's eyes, but struggled to hide his shock at the fractured light that shone through.     Taehyung was shaking. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!"     Yoongi had moved to stand beside Jeongguk, a guiding hand on his arm, urging him to remain still. "Be careful with what you say," he spoke under his breath.     "I-I just want to help you," Jeongguk tried to keep his voice soft and placating, still fearful of how volatile his boyfriend was.     "We can help you," Jimin added, slowly clearing a path through the ceramic shards, inching closer to Taehyung.     "'Help me'?" Taehyung spoke and moved in a frantic manner, a shell-shocked look in his eyes. He looked like a caged animal, but there was an edge of indignant sarcasm to his words.     "Yes," Jeongguk responded. "I can take care of you."     Jimin tiptoed around the broken shards, almost within an arm's breadth of Taehyung.     Taehyung tilted his head to the side, looking scarily off-kilter. "So we can have a cheesy cliché romance, get married, be all domestic and shit?" His voice carried a mocking tone.     "Yes! If that's what you want!" Jeongguk exclaimed, anxious to stop this situation as soon as possible, but a squeeze on his arm from Yoongi indicated that what he said was not the right thing to say.     "Yeah?" Spittle sprayed from Taehyung's mouth. "So we can turn out like every other sad couple does?" There was a wild look in his eyes. "So we can get old, broken, and full of hatred? So you can dump me for some whore when you get bored of me?"     Jeongguk panicked. "No, no Taehyung please--"     "You'll just turn out an abusive drunk just like your father." Taehyung's words dripped with venom.     Jeongguk froze. "Tae..?"     Jimin grabbed Taehyung by the wrists, wrenching the vase out of his grasp. Jeongguk stood still and stony, Yoongi's hands steady on his shoulders. Taehyung kept his eyes trained on him, but not in the adoring, loving way he usually gazed upon his partner. By expression alone, it looked like Taehyung had just stabbed Jeongguk, and was watching him bleed out. Jimin gave a slight nod of agreement to Yoongi, before tugging a now silent Taehyung out of the room.     Jeongguk slowly sank to his knees.     "Jeongguk, he didn't mean it," Yoongi murmured, following him down.     Like this, Jeongguk truly looked like the youngest of their group. All those muscles and big figure just withered away, leaving the little kid that was unnervingly fitting of his youthful features. He seemed to shrink into himself, the innocence and sadness in his eyes shining through. "I know," he whispered, "I know."     Yoongi soothingly rubbed circles into his back. "Was it about when he..." His sentence trailed off, unable to find a word that made whatever event he spoke of seem bearable.     "Yes," Jeongguk answered, his voice breathy and small.     "Okay." Yoongi sighed. "He'll be okay, Gukkie. You'll both be okay. We can work it out."     Jeongguk's nod was barely noticeable, but Yoongi accepted it nonetheless.     "You'll be okay." Yoongi stood, offering a hand to Jeongguk. "I can take you to your separate room."     "Okay."     Yoongi helped Jeongguk to his feet. As they began walking, Jeongguk spoke softly under his breath.     "I..." He trailed off.     "Go ahead," Yoongi prompted gently.     "I... I hoped that we could reconcile today..." Jeongguk looked on, his gaze hollow and full of anguish all at once. "I just wanted to spend my birthday with the person I love." Chapter End Notes Yay early chapter! (if just by a few hours but whatever:p) I just needed to get a chapter up today, because Royals and Roses has 5000+ hits!! I just noticed this and I got so excited haha.. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me as the story progresses.. Love you all<3 ***** Eight of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary Much like the Two of Diamonds, the Eight of this suit means an exchange of information. It can also indicate talking about money, getting good news about one’s fortunes, or someone’s natural wit. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Yoongi slowly opened the door of Jimin's bedroom. He had heard sounds coming from within, and had gone to check on the younger. Sure enough, Jimin was tangled in the bedsheets, tossing and turning, quietly crying even as he slept. Yoongi carefully approached the bed. He lit one of the bedside lamps, before crouching beside the bed.     "Jiminnie," he whispered softly.     Jimin's eyelids fluttered slightly, but he didn't wake. He frowned in his sleep, whimpering and shoving at the pillows.     "Jiminnie," Yoongi gently shook his shoulder.     The younger jolted at his touch, eyes flying open. Jimin's hands came up to latch to Yoongi's wrist, eyes filled with fear with tears shining at the corners. He looked up at Yoongi, but didn't seem to quite know where he was, gaze flicking across the room.     "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's me," Yoongi spoke softly, as if to a little bird, as if Jimin might just shatter with the touch of a raised voice.     It took Jimin a while to come to his senses, before the look in his eyes focused on the elder's face. "Yoongi?"     "Yeah." Yoongi smiled comfortingly. "You're okay, you just had a nightmare."     Jimin, finally settling back into his surroundings, abruptly let go of the elder's wrist. "O-Okay."     "Are you alright?" Yoongi asked, as Jimin was still shaking a bit.     "Yeah," Jimin replied quickly. "Just--you know... nightmare."     "Do you want to talk about it?"     "It was..." He trailed off. "It's... nothing, I'm fine."     "Okay," Yoongi said. "It's alright if you don't want to talk."     Jimin stayed silent.     "Do you want me to stay?"     The younger hesitated, thinking. "...yes, please," he answered after a long pause.     Yoongi nodded, and he knelt at the edge of the bed, sitting back on his feet and resting his elbows on the mattress.     They just stayed like that for some amount of time. Jimin's fingers restlessly played with the creases and folds in the sheets, still jumpy from his dream. Yoongi calmed him, soft whispers and gentle touches, until he didn't look as if he was about to bolt at any given moment.     Yoongi almost didn't notice when Jimin's fingers interlocked with his.     "You know," Jimin finally said, "my mom used to say that talking about your dreams makes them easier to understand."     Yoongi tilted his head slightly. "Do you want to talk about it?"     Jimin nodded, if not with brief hesitation. "I'm.. Ah.. standing in the doorway of a burning building. The.. The flames are all around me, but there's a clear path out the door. I don't know why, but I'm just... standing there."     Yoongi listened intently.     "Then there's a man, he comes from, uh, from deeper inside the building." Jimin swallowed. "His body is on fire. I remember thinking that he started the fire. But then he grabs me--" his grip tightened around Yoongi's, "--and it... It burns. It hurts so bad. I-I look him in the eye, and his eyesockets are... They're like mirrors... But I can't see me in them.."     "What do you mean?"     "I.. I can see the burning room around me, but where I'm supposed to be, there's just.. Darkness." Jimin's voice became small, and his gaze fixed on some random area of nothingness.     A frown creased Yoongi's brow when Jimin stopped speaking. "Is... Is that all?"     Jimin snapped out of his stupor. "Oh... No.."     Yoongi sensed his uneasiness and squeezed his hand in what he hoped was comforting way. "You don't have to go on."     "Okay."     Nothing really felt the same between them anymore. Impeccable closeness was split by the lengthy years and unspoken arguments. Where warmth and friendship lacked, cold silence filled in the cracks.     "What do you think it means?" Jimin asked quietly.     Yoongi exhaled, and slightly pursed his lips. "Well, there's obviously some imagery, yes? I don't reckon there's ever been a fire in town, at least not in recent years."     Jimin nodded in faint agreement.     "So it's up to interpretation." Yoongi thought for a moment. "I vaguely recall reading a book that stated that fire in a dream has two meanings. It can either mean that you are undergoing a difficult transition, or an enlightenment. Which do you think it is?"     "I'm not.... quite sure."     "That's okay." Yoongi patted Jimin's hand. "Sometimes it's better just to let the dream go."     Another period of silence tailed the conversation. Jimin grew visibly more shaken as the lack of sound went on. "Could you keep talking? Please... I just need to take my mind off it."     Yoongi was quick to answer. "Of course, um.. Let's see, I... Ah... Never really explained to you why I was gone for so long."     "Oh, yes," Jimin said, suddenly listening with rapt attention.     "The truth is," Yoongi began, "I was suffering from an abdominal infection."     "Oh. Really?"     Yoongi nodded. "Yes. My parents tried everything they could, remedies, novel medicines, shamans, but nothing helped. I was in terrible pain for over half a year."     Jimin's gaze was held low, ashamed to look the elder in the eye, ashamed of being angry at him.     "Until Taehyung's father, the old physician, came up with something. It is a new practice; surgery, he called it. He cut into my abdomen, and removed all the dead and infectious tissue. I still have the scar right here," he tapped the lower right side of his torso. "It worked, but the anesthesia he used contained hemlock, which almost killed me. That's why I was gone for so long." Yoongi's expression was grave as his train of thought went on. "I was his penultimate patient."     "Who was the last?"     Yoongi's mistake dawned on him and he grew silent.     Jimin frowned in worry. "Who was it, Yoongi?"     "I don't think this is the right time for you to be talking about this, Jimin-- "     "Just tell me."     Yoongi sucked in a breath. "It was his son."     Jimin sat up. "What?"     "Taehyung... He..."     "Yoongi-hyung, just tell me!"     Yoongi spoke slowly, almost unwillingly. "Taehyung tried to... take his life."     There was a tense silence.     "His mother passed away when he was thirteen, so his father sent his brother and sister to their aunt in the countryside. Taehyung stayed to help him with the infirmary." Yoongi gnawed at the inside of his cheek. "He wasn't really the same after that. I only saw him a few times, but he wasn't the Taehyung you know now."     Jimin's eyes had turned downcast.     "His father was the one to find him. Picked him up, brought him to the infirmary, bandaged his wrists. He made Taehyung promise to never do it again, but he still seemed so lifeless after."     Yoongi almost stopped, but a quick look from Jimin signaled him to continue.     "When his father died just months later, people said it was from the stress from Taehyung's attempt. It's been over four years since, and Taehyung still hasn't forgiven himself."     "And Jeongguk?" Jimin questioned softly. "That's why they're fighting?"     "They became friends when Taehyung treated him after he sliced up his leg in the smithy." Yoongi smiled sadly. "Jeongguk was the one who really brought our Taehyung back out. The entire palace was really shocked. It was like the happy little kid never left."     Jimin shared the sad smile. The idea of their two dongsaengs being anything but happy was unthinkable.     "Jeongguk is always wary of Taehyung. He's scared of the thought of losing him again." Yoongi looked up. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone in too much detail."     "It's okay."     The impermeable silence returned.     "Jimin... You should, ah, try to get back to sleep."     Jimin immediately shook his head. "There's too much in my mind.. I'll lose it if you leave me alone."     "Will you sleep if I stay?"     Jimin's words died on his lips as he realized the corner he'd backed himself into. He certainly didn't want to seem needy; an agreement to Yoongi's company would be a quite peculiar one-eighty from how he'd been treating the other for the past months. Still, he was still shaken from his dreams.     Slowly, reluctantly, he responded with a soft "Yes."     Yoongi hid a smile as he stood to sit on the edge of the bed. "I hope you don't mind; the floor isn't exactly the most comfortable place to be."     "Yeah, yeah of course." Jimin scooted closer to the middle of the bed to make room for Yoongi.     The young King drew his legs up onto the bed, throwing the covers over his legs. Jimin still kept his distance, though one of his hands was instinctively inching towards Yoongi's.     "Sleep, Jiminnie," Yoongi said, voice gentle. "Are you sure you're okay?"     Jimin nodded, hand slipping into the others. "I'm okay." A few more beats passed before he added, "I'm sorry for ever being angry at you."     "It's alright, you didn't know."     There was still guilt plaguing the younger, but Yoongi's response was enough to pacify him for the time being. There was no denying the comfort he felt from the King's familiar presence, his eyelids finally beginning to droop.     Yoongi stayed still, gently running his thumb along their interlocked hands. When he heard Jimin's breathing begin to even out, he contemplated leaving. He wasn't sure if that's what the younger expected of him to do. But, as he discovered when he shifted just a bit in his seat, Jimin was very sensitive to movement, and only held more tightly to his hand, curling up into Yoongi's side.     Yoongi's fate was decided then: he'd stay with Jimin for the night. However, he was curiously intrigued of how Jimin's sleeping position changed through the night. By the time the moon was at its peak, Yoongi had slid down so he was laying on his back, head resting on a pillow. He carded his fingers through Jimin's hair, as the younger had gradually snuggled closer til his head and upper torso rested on the other's chest and stomach, hand still linked in one of his. Yoongi would admit, he was a bit taken aback by Jimin's sudden unabashed touchiness, but he brushed it off as an unfiltered need for physical closeness. Yoongi hands absentmindedly ran up and down Jimin's back and through his hair, quietly calming him, keeping him calm in his sleep.     Yoongi, on the contrary, didn't sleep at all. He remained awake, watching over Jimin, and soothing him when his dreams caused him to fit. Yoongi sort of lost himself in the long hours between then and the break of dawn, feeling Jimin's presence leeching warmth into his skin, caressing the soft hair, and getting caught up in how peaceful Jimin looked asleep. He wasn't worried, or afraid, or tortured by some memories. He was just asleep. They say sleep makes you look younger; it never felt more true. Jimin's serene features skyrocketed Yoongi back to the little boy he'd met all those years ago.     Yoongi felt odd, the warm feelings in his chest swirling around. He had missed Jimin dearly all these years, but the divide between them during this conflict felt like a millennium. How was it, he wondered, that in the midst of all this commotion, he wound up with the boy he loved laying atop him, sleeping serenely. It felt too good to be true.     Jimin stirred when the sun fully rose, beaming rays of warmth into the room. His eyes fluttered drowsily, voice gravelly with sleep. "Hey."     "Hey."     He sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Good morning, hyung."     Yoongi smiled internally at the unintentional cuteness that Jimin displayed. "Good morning." He allowed the raven-haired boy to fully pull himself up before he himself rose. "Here, you can stay for a bit, I'll bring up your breakfast, okay?"     "Okay," Jimin nodded, whispering a soft "Thank you" as the other stood and made for the door.     "Jimin?"     "Yes?"     Yoongi had a slight grin on his face. "You finally called me hyung."     Jimin's sleepy eyes immediately widened and his face turned red. He watched as the elder shut the door behind him, a ghost of a smile lingering at his lips. Chapter End Notes Im so so so sorry for the delay!! I know I promised to try and keep up the schedule but I've had so much going on in the past days and the story was the last thing on my mind. Sorry again, but I still love you all<3 ***** Nine of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary Daydreams are the epitome of the Nine of Diamonds. Think of this card as a leisurely day spent in the sun with nothing particular to do. It’s a card of relative idleness, but without any real negativity. It’s a well- earned rest, a chance to plan for the future, and time to stop and smell the flowers. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Jimin lounged at the balcony table of his bedroom, head tilted back as he relaxed from his most recent steam therapy session. The sun was high in the sky, raining light and warmth on the palace gardens below. Jimin's little alcove was somewhat shielded from the sun, so he relished in the comfortable heat without the harsh edge.     He had just sent a letter to Seokjin, telling him that yes, he finally decided to do what was best for him. He was secretly glad that his friend lived a kingdom over; if Seokjin was in Degue he might have thrown a full-on party, knowing him.     There was a knock at his door, and a servant girl brought in his lunch. Jimin gave her a small smile and a silver coin he fished from his pocket, still not used to the feeling of being waited on. He nibbled absentmindedly at the slices of bread and cheese and picked at the small selection of fruits and vegetables on his tray.     That morning, Yoongi had brought him his breakfast in bed, before leaving to attend to his kingly duties and whatnot. As Jimin's memories from the night before slowly came back to him, a pit of guilt sink deeper into his stomach. He regretted being angry with Yoongi, for pushing him away because of a situation neither of them had control over. Beside that was the guilt of not having shared his own story. Yoongi had told him about himself and Taehyung, and Jimin felt he needed to share his side of the coin.     Speaking of Taehyung, Jimin knew the physician noticed his even more increased unease during their session today. Jimin was already shaky from the guilt of his injury and Taehyung's fight with Jeongguk, but Taehyung tended to him with a smile and a talkative air.     Jimin sighed. How was he, the peasant son of a prostitute who worked in a whorehouse himself, living in the guestroom of a castle, with friends that cared about him as much as they did? The doting Queen of a neighboring kingdom; the kind and funny physician; his soft and gentle childhood friend, the King? The pangs of his conscience seemed to form a tighter noose than Hoseok's hands.     ...     Hoseok.     The berry between Jimin's fingers didn't seem so appetizing anymore.     He was happy to be away from him, but there was a part of him that was still torn. Hoseok was a sweet guy most of the time, only growing harsh during sex. Jimin's consolation to himself all this time had been the look in his partner's eyes. It was like Hoseok wasn't really there.     Jimin shook himself out of that train of thought. It wasn't good to be thinking about that now.     ~-~     A few hours later, Jimin found himself with his knuckles tentatively resting against the door of Yoongi's study.     He took a deep breath before knocking softly.     Yoongi opened the door not a minute later. "Jimin," he breathed.     "Yoongi... Hyung," Jimin said. "A-Are you free right now? I want to talk to you about something."     "Yeah, yeah sure, I just finished up the majority of my paperwork." Yoongi's arm slid into the curve of the younger's back as they started walking out the door, into the hallways. "We can walk around the gardens, okay?"     Jimin nodded, deciding not to begin until they were within the privacy of the vast gardens. When the soles of their shoes clacked rhythmically against the cobblestone of the garden walkways, he spurred himself to talk. "I... I wanted to tell you about what happened to me."     "Alright."     The raven-haired boy inhaled and exhaled heavily before beginning. "After you left, I waited for you every day. I missed you so much. My mother told me you weren't coming back, but.. I still waited."     Yoongi's head was bowed in remorse.     "But then," Jimin swallowed, "once, I stayed out too long after dark. Someone ambushed me on my way back, and... um.."     "He touched you?"     Jimin shivered at the memory of the man's filthy hands on his skin. "Yes."     He flinched a bit as Yoongi's hand slipped into his. "Are you sure you want to tell me this?"     The younger nodded. "You deserve to know." He took a moment to collect himself before going on. "After that night, something else happened, a few months later. Some guy and his gang came to the brothel. I-I didn't see because I was with the kids in the s-separate house, but apparently Junseo had some kind of debts, and the g-guy killed him, taking over the brothel to get the money."     Their hands remained entwined, which eased Jimin's shakiness somewhat.     "Then, they raided the place, and they--" he choked, "they k-killed all the older ones."     Realization dawned on Yoongi. "Including your mom."     Jimin nodded, swallowing thickly.     "You don't have to continue if you don't want to."     "No," Jimin insisted, "I want to tell you the whole story."     Jimin took another minute to calm himself before going on, and Yoongi waited patiently.     "So, since they killed, like h-half the brothel, they realized they barely had any p-prostitutes left, the idiots." A grave grin crossed Jimin's face for a second, like the whole situation would have been hilarious if not horribly tragic. "So... They went for us kids."     "And that's how you ended up in the business."     "Yeah... They grabbed every kid over the age of fifteen, so about five of us, and put us to work." Jimin's hand tightened around Yoongi's, and, in the dim lamplight, he could see tears glittering as they fell.     "Jimin," Yoongi stopped him, "you can stop. You've told me more than enough."     Jimin locked eyes with him, strained with rage and sorrow and fear, and it was clear that he was reliving everything from that night. "I saw my mother dead. They slit her throat." He spoke falteringly, like the words were fighting with themselves to leave his mouth or choke in his throat. "They were wrapping her in a blanket, but there was so much blood. They didn't even let me see her, the bastards--"     Yoongi pulled Jimin into him, effectively stopping his words, and holding him comfortingly as he felt tears wet the front of his shirt. "Shh... It's okay, Jimin. You're safe now."     "Eomma...."     Yoongi's heart nearly broke when he heard the raw sorrow and desperation in Jimin's little cries. He held him tighter, vowing to never let him be hurt again.     Jimin sobbed. "Oh.. I'm sorry," his voice cracked as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"     "It's okay, it's okay," Yoongi said. They were only a few meters away from a wooden bench covered by a flowered arbor. Yoongi carefully maneuvered the two of them over, seating Jimin beside him.     Jimin wiped at his face, sniffling and attempting to calm himself, Yoongi's comforting hand on his back. "I'm sorry.."     "It's okay," Yoongi murmured, "You're okay, Jimin. You're so brave."     Brave? Jimin was confused, as the word didn't seem to fit himself. "B-Brave?"     The elder smiled. "You survived. Through all that shit, you survived. You took care of yourself." He pulled the slightly shocked boy into a hug. "Let me take care of you, now, okay?"     It took several minutes, but Jimin gradually allowed himself to sink into Yoongi's arms. He felt calmer now, the weight that he'd been carrying finally lifted off his chest. "Okay," he whispered. Chapter End Notes Uploading early to get it out of the way, because I have a term paper I should have worked on instead of writing this :////// ***** Ten of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary This card conjures up images of a treasure chest. With the Ten of Diamonds, one can expect happiness. This card leaves a little room for sorrow or woe, but generally indicates the fulfillment of personal wants, however small. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Seokjin typically hated clichés. But it was no lie that he felt positively warm and fuzzy as he kissed his husband. He actually enjoyed seeing Namjoon slightly intoxicated. All the worry would go from his face, stress forgotten, as it should be. Especially on that particular day.     They were both lightly buzzed when Seokjin tugged Namjoon away from the quiet dinner into their bedchambers. Seokjin couldn't stop himself from giggling a bit as they stumbled in the hallways, locking lips in sloppy kisses. "C'mon, love," he smiled against the taller's lips, still pulling him along. He didn't stop until they collapsed onto their canopied bed, Namjoon sprawled on his back with Seokjin nipping affectionately at his neck.     "Don't fall asleep, yet," Seokjin murmured. "I still haven't given you my present."     "Mhm," Namjoon hummed in soft agreement, leaning down to connect their lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Light touches turned into a hot, fierce battle, swipes of tongue and bites just hard enough to draw blood. "Mnh.. Love.." The younger grunted softly.     Seokjin looked up at him, big, pretty eyes, full red lips still brushing against his own.     Namjoon would never get used to how lovely his husband was. "About your present."     "Oh, of course," Seokjin flashed him a dazzling smile, but there was a little devilish edge to it.     He slid down the young King's body, slowly opening the clasps of his shirt, exposing the firm and lightly muscled chest, running slender fingers down the slight dips. Twin pairs of deep, dark eyes never broke contact. Seokjin deftly unlaced Namjoon's leggings, tugging them down to his mid-thigh before stroking at his hardening semi. Namjoon groaned, head tilting back and long fingers anchoring themselves in the elder's soft blond locks. Seokjin grinned, a small "Unh" leaving his lips at the sensation.     In one swift movement, his head fell to take Namjoon's cock into his mouth. Seokjin hollowed his cheeks, feeling the familiar weight on his tongue and against his throat. His movements remained slow and smooth and deliberate, lifting his head and lowering it, resting one stern hand at the King's hipbone as he felt the younger's involuntary bucking.     He pulled off, clicking his tongue. "Eager."     Namjoon struggled to remain still as his husband settled for feather-like licks on the head of his cock. "Love, I'm.. Ah--"     Seokjin varied the pressure, sometimes using light kitten licks, sometimes suckling at the ruddy head, sometimes dragging the tip of his tongue from the top of the sac up til the head, tracing teasingly along the little grooves.     All muscles in the silvery-haired male tightened. "Seokjin, I'm--"     He was cut off by a firm hand around the base of his cock, effectively halting his oncoming climax.     "Seokjin," Namjoon almost whined breathlessly.     Seokjin couldn't suppress a pleased chuckle. "What about the main event, darling?"     The blond sat up, undoing and removing his own shirt and leggings moved up so he was straddling the other's thighs, careful to avoid his leaking cock whilst leisurely stroking his own.     "Touch me, Joonie." Seokjin's voice was lower, and carried a kind of lustful darkness and mystery that only came out in their recent sex life. It was a complete contrast from his motherly, sweet self, and Namjoon had absolutely no qualms about that.     Namjoon rested his hands on Seokjin's hips, running his thumbs over the slight jut of the bones. He slid them back, gently squeezing the supple flesh of Seokjin's ass, smirking at the heaviness in the other's breaths. Big hands spread the full cheeks apart, allowing a wandering touch to slip down the cleft. Seokjin's breath hitched, and Namjoon lifted an eyebrow in curiosity as his finger came to rest on a hard object.     "What's this?" Namjoon traced his finger around the puffy rim of Seokjin's entrance.     "Hah... It's.. Ah," Seokjin's eyelids fluttered as the slight pressure was maddening. "Handmade, glass plug.. I--ah--stretched myself earlier.."     Namjoon hummed in appreciation. "Does it feel good?"     "Y-Yes." Seokjin steadied himself, with hands on Namjoon's chest, regaining his composure. "But I like your cock more."     "Of course you do, love." With a smooth movement, Namjoon carefully removed the plug, causing a little cry from Seokjin. The glass plug was clear, thick, and flared at the base, and slick with oil.     Seokjin plucked it from his hand, setting it off to the side. He lifted his hips, positioning himself over the King's neglected member. Slowly, he slid down.     The couple moaned simultaneously as Seokjin lowered himself so his ass was flush to Namjoon's sac. The blond rotated his hips, adjusting easily, before beginning to roll his hips at a steady pace. He bit his lip, leaning over. Seokjin cupped his husband's cheek in one hand, guiding him in for a kiss.     "Happy birthday, love," Seokjin murmured.     ~-~     Jimin knew he'd have to deal with Hoseok eventually, but that didn't stop the little pit of dread that formed in his stomach as he ran into him in the halls.     Hoseok was looking over a handful of papers as Jimin was on his way back to his room from the infirmary. Jimin hadn't really gone anywhere else since the incident. He froze when he saw the familiar mess of chestnut hair. There was a churning conflict going on in his mind, between the comforting familiarity he'd associated with him, and the memory of gasping for air as hands formed a lock around his neck.     Jimin kept his head low, hoping that Hoseok was too engrossed in his work that he wouldn't notice. Thankfully, that was exactly what happened, as they passed without a hitch. Jimin quickly ducked behind a corner, bracing himself against a wall to release the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.     As he did so, he heard a hard voice echo through the passageway the same way he'd come. Jimin paused, and he quieted himself enough to listen.     "Do you have the reports from the border towns, Lord Hoseok?" It was Yoongi.     Hoseok's unease was unbearably obvious."Your Majesty, you can just call me Hoseok, you kno--"     "Lord Hoseok," Yoongi's tone was sharp as ever, "Do you or do you not have the reports?"     "Yes, Your Majesty, here." There was a shuffling of papers before Yoongi dismissed him coldly.     Jimin heard the click of Yoongi's boots coming closer, so he stepped out.     "Jimin!" Yoongi said, startled. "How long have you been--"     "I can deal with Hoseok myself, hyung," Jimin told him. "I'm okay."     "I know you are, but--" Yoongi was cut off by the seemingly millionth time by the sound of screams and something smashing. "But we have more pressing matters to deal with," Yoongi sighed.     Jimin and Yoongi had become the unspoken mediators for whenever Taehyung and Jeongguk had an argument, but it seemed to have little effect on the overall outcome. Still, they followed the noises, preparing themselves for the wild action to come.     "I swear," Yoongi muttered, "If they keep at it like this, my mother will think I've turned this place into a madhouse." Chapter End Notes We interrupt your regular scheduled programming of angst and exposition for some happy cliché birthday sex! Essentially Im extremely exhausted, so I apologize in advance, and I'm having some severe writers block, and my tired mind decided that the best way to fix that was by writing some half-assed porn. And I realized that namjin was a little neglected over there in Sule, so yeah. They still exist! They're still important! And that concludes our brief alert. Your regularly scheduled programming of angst and exposition will continue shortly ***** Jack of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The Jack of Diamonds displays a young boy, and means that some good news is about to arrive. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes It had taken a very, very long time for Yoongi and Jimin to convince the resident turbulent couple to have a sit-down and talk civilly. Well, convincing Jeongguk was considerably easier, even though he was on edge from Taehyung's remark about his father. Taehyung, on the other hand, was a completely different story. Poor Jimin was affronted with a tantrum akin to that of a bratty child, and choice words that would make any sailor proud. It took several hours of bribes, threats, and begging to get Taehyung to agree.     Currently, Yoongi, Jeongguk, Jimin, and Taehyung were seated around the small table in Yoongi's study. Jeongguk fidgeted nervously in his seat, while Taehyung was curiously still, staring blankly at the table. Jimin eyed the two nervously before nodding at Yoongi.     The eldest cleared his throat. "You two know why we're here."     "Because you're worried we'll burn the castle down?" Taehyung deadpanned.     "Because you two have important issues to work out." Yoongi glared at Taehyung. "And because I will not have you causing a ruckus in my palace every day of the week."     "Sorry, hyung," Jeongguk whispered.     Yoongi gave a small smile, not his usual gummy grin, but just enough to calm the maknae. "It's alright, Jeongguk. We just need the two of you to talk."     "We're worried," Jimin added, though he did look much more pointedly at Taehyung, who seemed quite spaced out and not at all worried about the conversation.     Jeongguk shifted in his seat before leaning forward, elbows on the table. "Well, Taehyung, you know that I love you, and--"     "Do I?" Taehyung mocked, leaning back in his chair.     "Watch yourself, Taehyung." Yoongi scolded. "You've been a bit of an ass these past few weeks and I am sick of it."     Jimin gave Yoongi a cautious look, knowing full well that Taehyung could snap at any moment.     "Fine, fine," Taehyung said.     "You can continue, Gukkie," Jimin soothed.     "I... I love you, Taehyung, and.." Jeongguk exhaled heavily, "I'm just worried about you."     Taehyung tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "You know, we wouldn't be in this position if you weren't so worried."     "How can I not be worried, Taehyung?" The youngest snapped uncharacteristically. "You almost killed yourself years ago, and you are capable of doing it again, so when you make remarks like you did at the funeral, how in God's name do you expect me to not be worried?" Jeongguk was starting to get riled up, almost sobbing the words.     Taehyung felt his throat was beginning to close up, like it did when he was about to cry, but his pride was too strong. The position of his head was more to keep the tears from falling than anything else. "You make me feel like I'm some kind of doll. Like I'll break at any moment." He looked back down, blinking furiously to keep his feelings hidden. "Guess what, Gukkie? I'm not made of glass. I can handle myself."     "I understand that, but can you please just let me take care of you, I cou-- " Jeongguk's voice broke. "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. If you died..."     Jimin's small hands found Jeongguk's, squeezing gently to comfort him. Yoongi still sat stoically, monitoring the two maknaes.     "I love you, TaeTae, and it hurts so much whenever you talk about death."     Taehyung moved like he was about to make a snarky response, but Jimin looked at him sternly.     "Listen," Jimin pleaded.     Jeongguk had finally managed to lock eyes with his partner. "I saw you, while you were recovering. I went by the infirmary to pick up something for the swordsmaker, and I saw you in the cot."     Taehyung's expression softened just faintly.     "I didn't know who you were, but I was so young, the image stayed in my mind forever." His lip trembled. "You were so pale. You looked so lifeless. It.. It shocked me."     Taehyung's jaw was clenched, and the tears began to fall.     Yoongi rubbed Jeongguk's shoulder, releasing some of his tension, while Jimin switched to Taehyung: not touching him yet, just moving closer, so he could feel another presence.     Jeongguk still continued. "When I met you, I was older, you were older, but I recognized you. I-I didn't say anything, but I wanted to make you happy. I wanted you to have a friend." He gave a small smile. "Then, goddamn it, I fell in love with you."     Taehyung's walls of pride broke down as the tears flowed freely, not flinching when Jimin held his hand. Jimin himself was starting to feel tears prickling at his eyes as Jeongguk's story unfolded, and while Yoongi's face didn't show it, Jimin knew it affected him as well.     Jeongguk was weeping fully. As he had been trying to placate his boyfriend for the past weeks, his own emotions had been pushed down, and were now rushing back at full force. "I just... I couldn't live with myself if you hurt yourself again. I never told you this b-but.." He hiccupped. "Well, I told you how my d- dad hurt me, and my mom, and my brother. My brother.. He got out by studying abroad, but my mother got out by taking the same route you did, only... she succeeded."     "My God, Gukkie!" Taehyung sobbed, wrenching himself from his chair and running around the table to embrace his boyfriend, all the shame and guilt and remorse washing over him.     Jeongguk buried his face in Taehyung's shoulder. "Whenever you s-scare me like that, it reminds me of her, and... God!" He held Taehyung tighter to himself. "I lost her, and I can't lose you too."     "God, Jeongguk," Taehyung cried aloud, "I'm so, so, so sorry, for everything."     Jeongguk only hugged him closer.     Taehyung pressed a kiss to the side of Jeongguk's head. "I just... I hate when people treat me like I'll break. It makes me feel so fragile and worthless."     "I'm sorry if I have--"     "But you haven't," Taehyung kissed him again. "I was being a bitch earlier; you have never, ever, made me feel that way. I really have been such an ass to you, and I'm so, so sorry for everything."     "It's okay, it's okay," Jeongguk whispered. "It's okay."     "God, I love you so much."     "I love you so much."     Yoongi had walked over to Jimin, and allowed him to cry into his shirt as they watched and listened.     Jeongguk rocked them both back and forth, holding tight to the other as they cried. "I promise, I will never, ever, make you feel broken."     "I promise I'll never hurt myself."     The two had sunk down from the chair to the floor, clinging closely to each other.     "I'm so sorry," Taehyung repeated over and over. Deep down he knew it was his fault that this entire debacle happened.     At the same time, Jeongguk was there, assuring him that "It's okay" as many times as he apologized.     How did Taehyung ever get so lucky to deserve a guy like Jeongguk? Someone who loved him so much, who cared for him, so much that he stayed even through Taehyung's volatile tantrums? At the thought, the young red-haired physician sobbed and clutched at the fabric of Jeongguk's shirt.     Jimin's own crying had eased, with only small tears sliding down his cheeks. He held Yoongi's hand, happy that there was peace between their youngest friends.     Jeongguk and Taehyung stayed as they were for some time, melting into one another, whispering apologies and promises of love until their tears stopped. When they finally pulled apart, Jeongguk wiped the remnants of wetness from his eyes and extended a hand to his boyfriend, bringing them both to their feet. They kissed one last time before turning their attention to the elders in the room.     Taehyung was the first to thank them, hugging them both. "Thank you so much," he murmured. "And I'm sorry for breaking so many vases."     Yoongi chuckled a bit. "You're all right Tae."     Jeongguk was a bit more solemn, but grateful nonetheless. "You helped us come back together."     "You did that yourself, Gukkie," Jimin smiled, "We just made sure you didn't destroy anything in the process."     Good-natured laughter filled the room, replacing the sadness and anger, and, in that exact moment, they were happy. Chapter End Notes Yay, happy chapter! On a serious note, and before anyone says anything about the reason why Tae was pissed at Gukkie, Taehyung's thoughts and worries are based on things I myself have felt after an incident. This is one of the more cathartic elements of the story, for me anyway. Side note: I also have some breather stories coming along, so you can keep an eye out for those between chapters, along with a sequel for my hybrid!au oneshot:) ***** Queen of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary This card represents sensuality. The Queen of Diamonds is all about duty and splendor. This queenly figure could be a person or partner in the questioner’s life who inspires joy and happiness. More likely, though, she indicates someone who does what must be done or a lover with a deeply sexual side. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Jimin woke in a now familiar position, with Yoongi's chest as his pillow, and his arm wrapped comfortably around him. He vaguely remembered having a nightmare, and Yoongi climbing into bed with him once again. But he wasn't quite yet used to waking still in the King's arms. Jimin gently lifted Yoongi's arm off him, carefully sliding out of bed, thankful that the King was a deep sleeper. He rubbed his eyes and padded over to the washroom. A part of him complained, a childish want to stay in bed with Yoongi, curl up with him and cuddle into their shared warmth. Jimin shook off the thought, closing the door behind him.     He caught sight of himself in the mirror, a luxury he had never known until just months ago. His hair was soft and shiny, skin clear of grime, purple bruises slowly fading in darkness. He didn't look like a poor boy raised in the slums.     Jimin turned away from the mirror. The clashing sense of identity was too much to handle this early in the morning.     The slight chill of the morning was beginning to sink into his bones, making the thought of Yoongi's company much more appealing. Jimin only rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm them. Why did his mind almost automatically turn to Yoongi? Why, at the prospect of loneliness, the first thing on his mind was the remembrance of the King's arms surrounding him? He messily splashed his face with water from a basin before exiting the washroom.     Yoongi was still sound asleep. Jimin didn't move for several moments, and just looked at him. Soft, pale skin and hair, such a thin and small body. He looked too young and fragile to care for Jimin and their friends the way he did, not to mention running a flourishing nation, but he did it nonetheless.     A few centimeters still separated Jimin's height from Yoongi's, but that was about it. Jimin knew that the years of hardship he had endured had made him tough, his body was wider and firmer than his hyung's. But there was always that loving, responsible air around the King that allowed Jimin to let down his walls. An atmosphere where Jimin could let go, could let himself collapse without actually breaking.     Ironically, Jimin's only apprehension was caused by his and Yoongi's past closeness. It felt like their friendship could raise mountains, but those same heights made crossing the divide between them even more difficult. Of course, there was another factor...     Jimin bit his lip, as he was affronted with bittersweet memories of tart fruit on his tongue, the smell of salty sea air, and a secret hush of a starlit kiss. It was a simpler time, before kings and sex and anger and conflict; when it was just innocence, two boys, happy in each other's love and company.     Aided by the flow of remembrance, the impulse finally won, and Jimin slipped back into the covers, curling into Yoongi's body.     ~-~     The rest of the day had been uneventful. Yoongi had disappeared into his study once again, and Jimin busied himself in the gardens once again. He liked them, finding some lovely peace in the quiet sunny pathways between the flowers.     However, the heat and high pollen of residual summer caused a bit of a problem with Jimin's still healing windpipe, so he retired in his bedroom for the remainder of the afternoon.     Yoongi had brought his dinner up to him, so they ate together on the table in Jimin's bedroom, by the balcony overlooking the setting sun. Jimin's chair was situated at a somewhat awkward angle at the circular table, so the sunlight wouldn't get into his eyes as he ate. And while the closeness to Yoongi was a bit disconcerting, at least he didn't have to reach for the shared plate of cut seasonal fruit.     "Why do you always dine with me?" Jimin wondered aloud. "Don't you have to eat in the banquet hall, with all the nobles and formal whatnot?"     Yoongi chuckled. "The only times I eat in the banquet hall are holidays and parties. I have too much work to take up so much time with decorum."     Jimin pursed his lips. "But you eat with me?"     "Your company is," the elder patted his lips with a napkin, "refreshing, to say the least. I've missed having a friend whose presence didn't have some aspect of business."     While Yoongi's words were a bit detatched and vague, there was no denying the little leap in Jimin's heart.     "I should thank you for that."     Yoongi looked up at him. "For what?"     "For having me." Jimin's hands rested in his lap to hide their shakiness. "For letting me be here."     "Of course," Yoongi smiled. "You're practically family; you deserve all the love and care I could give."     The beats that passed were choking. Jimin's eyes flitted from Yoongi's warm, welcoming eyes to his lips. All the kindness and adoration that had just now become reminiscent, coalesced into a single movement--     And their lips collided.     Jimin's eyes were shut, so he didn't have to see the startled expression on Yoongi's features, but he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when he felt larger hands cup his cheeks. Yoongi pressed closer, but it was Jimin who added careful swipes of his tongue, deepening the kiss. He had missed this, comfort, love, sensuality all in one moment. He leaned closer to the King, letting their mouths move in a slow dance that held the weight of heavier emotions, but the lighthearted sweetness of childlike puppy love. Honestly, Jimin didn't quite know words precise enough to describe how it felt.     Jimin almost didn't notice his hands starting to wander, sliding down the front of Yoongi's chest, playing with the buttons.     At this, Yoongi pulled away. His lips were deep pink and slick, but his jaw was slack and his eyes unreadable. He stood, smoothing the front of his shirt. "I- I should... I should go." He must have seen the hurt on Jimin's face, because he added, "It's too soon, Jimin. I don't want to.. take advantage of you."     And with a curt nod, he was gone, leaving Jimin with hurt feelings, a damaged ego, and overal great confusion. Chapter End Notes Hiiiiii short chapter once again.. Sorry. I am quite exhausted, with finals coming up and a whole crapton of events going on so, I sincerely apologize. i will, however, try to keep up with my schedule of a chapter every other day!! Love you all<33 ***** King of Diamonds ***** Chapter Summary The King of Diamonds means power through money or fortune. Pulled with several spades, the reader can expect to face some financial trials. Alternately, this card may mean that decisions relating to the reader's success are coming, and the reader will need to choose their correct path of action. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Seokjin had grown used to waking up alone.     Sheets bundled up around him but the other half of the bed grown cold, no other body to block out the sunlight that gets in his eyes.     He knew his husband was far too stressed; the new territory of his home country was more of a curse than a blessing. He knew that if he got out of bed and into the council room, he'd find a young King surrounded by overflowing piles of reports and files, letters from sentries.     So he decided not to rise, deciding to curl up into the sheets, away from the sun.     On the other hand, Namjoon desperately tried to convince himself that the slowness of his thought processes was not sleepiness. He deeply regretted taking over Anune. What he could tell, from the sentries' reports, the Anunians were enraged by Namjoon's close partnership with Degue, that their royal family betrayed them, that the married Seokjin was nothing but a lapdog in the bed of a worthless foreign King. Namjoon had yet to mention the last one to his husband, and he was sure he would never get around to it.     The Anunians were undoubtedly a threat at this point, this anger against himself and his kingdom had the capacity to escalate quickly, and Namjoon was frustrated to admit he didn't have a solution. He hated that he couldn't control them, he hated that he was neglecting Seokjin, he hated that he didn't know what to do.     He cradled his head in his hands, propped up by his elbows over his desk. The letters and papers blurred in a mess of reports, angry revolts, refusals to pay taxes. Returning Anune to Seokjin's parents seemed like a really good idea right about now.     ~-~     Taehyung looked up, startled, at the clutter of sound in the doorway of his infirmary. His eyes widened at the sight of blood, a limping form, and a pained expression. He leapt to his feet, quickly supporting the injured man and carrying him to the cot.     "Jesus, Lord Hoseok, what the hell happened to you?"     Hoseok groaned in pain, laying back on the cot. "My own sword, that's what," he answered in somewhat disbelief.     Taehyung suppressed a smirk as he peeled away the blood-soaked fabric on Hoseok's calf to assess the damage. "Aish, seems like all our noble fighters are getting clumsier and clumsier these days, eh?"     "Unfortunately."     The physician tutted playfully as he walked over to his shelves, selecting a bottle of this, a bag of that. After a few minutes, he returned to the cot with a bowl of water and a waiting poultice in his mortar. He elevated the leg on a few pillows, then washed away the blood with the water. He set the bowl aside and retrieved the poultice and clean bandages, beginning to wrap the wound.     He watched the other's face as he applied the soft paste around the wound. "Does it sting?"     "No," Hoseok shook his head.     Taehyung gave him a pointed look. "You alpha male types, always hiding your pain. I know it stings, but if it doesn't, then you can kiss your leg goodbye."     "Alright, yeah it stings." The elder winced. "What'd you say about kissing my leg goodbye?"     The younger chuckled as he wrapped the cotton around the poultice. "Last time it didn't sting, I had accidentally mixed up the wrong herbs, and the poor fellow's entire arm went numb. We had to wash it off immediately otherwise I would have to have done my first amputation."     "My god, who was it?" Hoseok was shocked, and a bit more wary of the eccentric redhead tending his leg.     "The swordsmaster's own apprentice."     Hoseok bit back a snort. "Really?"     "Yeah, I know right." Taehyung laughed. "It's good, I ended up dating him anyway."     The adviser's sudden stiffness did not go unnoticed by Taehyung. Hoseok cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Is that so?"     "Yeah, he's a sweetheart." Taehyung allowed himself to continue the conversation, but treaded carefully. After a beat, he thought Fuck it and decided to just ask it: "You're not homophobic, are you, sir?"     The elder's face turned red. "Ah, no, no..."     Taehyung only hummed in mild acknowledgement as he finished wrapping up his leg.     "Yes, I.. Ah.. I fully support homosexual people.." Hoseok rambled, "But the same could not be said for my parents."     "Oh, I see." Taehyung replied. "I just asked because, you know, our own King is quite vague about his interests, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's bedded a few men here and there, and since you work so closely with him--"     "Yes, I see how that could be worrying."     Taehyung looked over his face again, studying his reaction. "You know, I was thinking you were closeted yourself."     Hoseok sputtered. "W-What makes you say that?"     The physician shrugged. "Sixth sense?" He allowed himself to enjoy Hoseok's dumbfounded expression for a few moments before laughing. "No, no, sir, it was my friend, Jimin. You know him I'm sure, he's Yoongi's friend."     Hoseok only nodded.     "I'm treating him for some injuries, and he began coming later and later, and always from the far wing of the palace," Taehyung continued, "I thought he was bedding someone, but the only person of importance or of relative attractiveness in the far wing is you. So you can see how it piqued my interest."     "Ah." Hoseok swallowed.     Taehyung grinned, patting Hoseok's leg good-naturedly before standing, bringing his supplies back to their shelves, and cleansing his hands. "So are you?"     "I'm.. Ah.. Not quite sure."     "That's alright." Taehyung nodded. "Anyway, if you were bedding Jimin, that would make you the most likely candidate for the cause of his ailment, and you are most certainly not."     Hoseok shifted uncomfortably, having full knowledge of the reason for Jimin's injury.     Taehyung returned to him with his signature boxy smile. "You're all set," he chirped, helping Hoseok to his feet. "Just try to rest a bit, and I'll change your dressings every few hours or so."     Hoseok nodded, if not somewhat absentmindedly. "Thank you, Taehyung-ssi." He left without another word.     ~-~     "Jimin-ah, wake up."     Jimin groaned at the noise, but allowed his eyes to flutter open.     "Good morning, Yoongi-hyung. I.. Oh.." His voice trailed off as his vision focused on the sight before him. Yoongi was sat on his bed, bearing a big smile and small cake held out to Jimin.     "You remembered!" Jimin exclaimed, still a bit sleepy but happy nonetheless.     Yoongi laughed, setting the cake to the side before pulling Jimin into a hug. "Of course I remembered." He pressed a light kiss to the side of his head. "Happy Birthday, Jiminnie." Chapter End Notes HELLO! I'm back! My flow of motivation has finally kicked back in and I have a question for you! I have two upcoming concepts for small breather fics. Which one would you like to see first? -psychological-horror style mental facility au Or -high school au inspired by Boy In Luv ***** Ace of Spades ***** Chapter Summary The Ace of Spades is paralleled by the Death card in the tarot deck. And like its counterpart, it doesn’t necessarily mean physical death, but instead a sudden transformation or an ending. This card can also indicate deep isolation, and in some cases might even mean a period of contemplation. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes "Please tell me you didn't amputate the leg of the King's Chief Adviser."     Taehyung playfully slapped his boyfriend's arm. "Of course I didn't! It's been years since the time I messed up your arm; I've gotten better!"     "Uh huh." Jeongguk leaned over him smirking, before pressing a light kiss to the top of Taehyung's nose. "I've still got that blasted scar, though."     Taehyung waved it away. "You'll live." He cupped the younger's face in his hands, bringing him back in for another kiss. He laid further back on the bed, pulling Jeongguk down with him.     "And you told him you thought he was gay and the one hurting Jimin?" Jeongguk asked, still kissing him, though incredulous at the thought of his boyfriend's filter, or lack thereof.     "Well, think about it!" Taehyung kissed him one last time before switching into his "fast-talk" mode. "Jiminnie was always late to our appointments, and when I went to look for him, he'd be running in from the opposite wing. Of course I'd think--"     "There's plenty of men in the far wing. Why on earth would you suspect that poor Lord?" Jeongguk settled for laying beside his boyfriend on their bed, nuzzling his face into the other's neck.     Taehyung shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I'd always thought he was gay anyway."     "Tae!"     "What? He gives off that vibe!"     "Be glad he didn't have your leg chopped off for saying that."     "Yoongi would never let that happen. He loves me too much."     Jeongguk tickled at his sides. "Oh really? I didn't know I was being replaced."     "Well, you know." Taehyung giggled, before exaggeratedly clapping a hand over his heart. "Why would I bed a lowly apprentice, when I could be lying in the bed of a King?"     "Always the dramatic." Jeongguk rolled his eyes. "And I'm not going to be an apprentice for much longer. My Master is thinking of retiring early."     "Really? Let's hope you don't screw it up."     "Oh stop it!" Jeongguk effectively shut him up with a kiss.     Taehyung smiled contentedly after they pulled apart, but he frowned again.     Jeongguk ran a hand through Taehyung's fiery hair. "What are you thinking about?"     "Who do you think might be the one hurting Jimin?"     "Honestly?"     "I mean, I did suspect King Yoongi, but he's too much of a sweetheart to do that. He's too skinny to pin Jimin down anyway."     "Tae!"     "Just saying!" Taehyung rolled his eyes. "You know, there is some possibility that it really was Lord Hoseok."     "You can't be serious, Tae."     "I am! Hmm... I wonder if Yoongi knows?"     Jeongguk's eyes widened as Taehyubg began scooting off the bed. "No, Tae, you can solve a mystery later! Stay, please?"     Taehyung's heart melted at his boyfriend's puppy eyes, pressing a kiss to his pout. "Sorry, Gukkie. I'll be back!" He got off the bed, skipping over to the door. "Mysteries were meant to be solved!" He crowed.     It didn't take him long to find Yoongi, who was in his study, as always.     "King Yoongi," he called.     Yoongi saw him, slightly surprised at his messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but greeted him nonetheless. "Oh, hello, Taehyung."     "Hi, so," he fidgeted with his feet as he spoke, "regarding Jimin.. You and I both know that there has to be someone doing that to him.. I was wondering if you had any idea who it is?"     "Well, this is all very sudden. Why do you ask?"     Taehyung crossed his arms. "I am his physician, Your Majesty."     "Ah, yes, yes." Yoongi nodded, still a bit withdrawn. "I do suppose that I have some.. ah.. suspicions, but I don't think it right to voice them until we have more concrete evidence."     The redhead pursed his lips. "Have you considered your adviser?"     Yoongi lifted a brow. "Hoseok?"     Taehyung nodded. "Yes. See, Jimin used to always be late for our therapy sessions, and he always seemed to come from where Lord Hoseok's bedchambers are."     The King mulled it over for a bit. "That's quite... an assumption to make, Taehyung." He still spoke slowly and measuredly, as if he were filtering every word.     "I apologize Yoongi-hyung, but I hope you realize my concern--"     "I do, Taehyung, and you're quite alright." Yoongi waved him away. "I will, er, look in to your suggestions. Now, if you'll excuse me." He gathered up a few papers from his desk before walking out.     Taehyung slumped, dumbfounded. "Odd."     ~-~     Namjoon was still worrying over the Anune debacle when Seokjin called him for tea.     "You need a break," the blond had said, lightly massaging Namjoon's shoulder with one hand as he guided him to the chair.     "I know, I know," Namjoon assented, sinking into his chair. "It's the new territory."     "Anune, I know," Seokjin said, pouring them both cups of tea.     The King took the teacup, taking a sip before continuing. "Why are they so upset with your parents' decision?"     Seokjin's cup was almost at his lips, but he sighed and set it back down. "It's your kingdom's close relationship to Degue. We all know Yoongi's father wasn't the kindest man, but he got along even worse with my father."     "Your father's a good man, though."     "Of course he is. The old King's rants didn't bother him. But they sure as hell bothered the people." Seokjin shook his head. "They're upset that they're under the rule of someone so close to the descendant of such a horrid man."     Namjoon took a closer look at his husband's face. "And you aren't?"     A soft smile curled Seokjin's lips. "I've met Yoongi. I know that he's a good man."     "That's true," Namjoon conceded. "But that can't be it. If they're so angry, they wouldn't be rebelling against only me. If they're so angry, they'd have attacked Degue already."     Seokjin watched the gears turn in his head. "What are you thinking?"     "There has to be some other factor here." Namjoon's near-full cup of tea sat forgotten on the table as he pondered the thought. "Is there anything else I might have done to anger them?"     "Not that I can think of."     A frown crossed Namjoon's face. "Then what...?"     Seokjin refilled his own teacup. "Perhaps an instigator?"     "An instigator?"     He nodded. "There is a rivalry between Anune and Degue, there's not doubting that, but it has never affected the relationship with Sule. The only other possibility is another party that is blowing the feud out of proportion."     The silvery-haired King mulled it over. "That's possible. Perhaps th--"     Seokjin sighed heavily and cut him off. "Alright, alright, Namjoon, you have a lead, but you can figure this out soon enough. Right now, just relax, take a rest, please?" There was a pleading look in his eyes.     Namjoon frowned again, eyes trained on his cooling tea. "It requires my attention--"     "You work yourself too hard, love." Seokjin's soothing voice was convincing, but not enough. "Even you need a break sometimes."     "This is too important to wait!" Namjoon huffed as he'd grown impatient. He stood from his chair, running an agitated hand through his hair before starting for the door. "Seokjin, I need to fix this."     "Namjoon, please--"     "No, Seokjin!"     Hurt visibly showed on Seokjin's features at Namjoon's harsh tone.     Namjoon's gaze softened, but he was unrelenting. "There is a disruption of the peace in my kingdom. I need to fix it."     Then he was gone, leaving Seokjin alone with a bruised heart and two cold cups of tea. Chapter End Notes So input for the breather fics was equal, so I suppose I'll just see which one gets finished first. Also, my schedule has completely gone to shit, so I'll just be posting every few days or so as the chapters are finished. tysm!!! ***** Two of Spades ***** Chapter Summary This card represents a duel or separation. The Two of Spades means that someone is itching for a fight, and there’s a good chance they’ll get one. This does not necessarily have to be romantic, but it’s likely there will be a falling out with a person in their life, soon. Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Seokjin was at his wits' end.   Waking up to a cold bed, empty conversations, a silent dinner table, sleepless nights spent alone: it was too much. Namjoon and his mind were always somewhere else. On the problems in Anune, how they needed to be fixed. Seokjin knew that it was an important issue, but this was getting out of hand.   This was the last straw.   ~-~   The slight chill of autumn had given way to the harsh cold of winter. A hush of snow blanketed the Sule capital, the palace covered in a coat of white. The sky was grey, shielding away the sun, allowing the crisp frigidity to permeate the city.   The change in weather made barely any difference to Seokjin; his home life in the castle being just as cold and unfeeling. But that day, he'd made the mistake of allowing himself a dash of hope. He'd awoken that morning as he always did: alone. Still, he went about his day, holding on to a shred of hope. But soon, night fell, and his spirits with it.   Seokjin sat on his bed, reading a book as he waited. Darkness was all that could be seen outside, as the sleepy city gone to bed. All but their reigning King and Queen.   Namjoon came in hours later, visibly surprised at the sight of his husband awake. "You should be asleep," he admonished.   "So should you," Seokjin quipped, shutting his book.   The younger sighed, "What do you want, Seokjin?"   Seokjin inhaled sharply, fuming. "Haven't you forgotten something?"   "Forgotten what?"   Angry tears brimmed in Seokjin's eyes. "It's my birthday today, dammit!"   Realization and guilt flicked over Namjoon's features, but his pride pushed them to the side. "Well, I apologize, but you have to understand that I'm quite busy." He disappeared into their walk-in closet.   Incredulous rage consumed Seokjin. "All you do is work nowadays! I was hoping that for one godforsaken day you'd put it aside and give me some attention for once!" He was standing by the bedside, arms crossed, a wall of anger and emotion.   There was no reply, only the soft rustle of cloth.   "I've never forgotten a birthday, anniversary, or even any of those odd holidays you celebrate here! I've been nothing but a good spouse, and all I would ask is one day for me, but all you do is worry about my homeland!"   "What do you expect me to do?!" Namjoon finally emerged, wearing his pajamas and an anguished expression akin to that of Seokjin's. "Just forsake my duties?"   "I want you to express some emotion for once!" Seokjin exclaimed. "You're not a fucking political wizard, you can't just spend your days working nonstop."   Namjoon faltered, cracks showing in his resolve, but his pride was too strong. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing more I can do. Come to bed."   Seokjin shook his head in disbelief. He wiped the hot tears from his eyes. "I've had enough." He left their bedchambers, choosing to cry himself to sleep in the guestroom down the hall.   ~-~   Seokjin awoke sometime before daybreak. Quietly, he slipped back into his bedroom, past Namjoon snoring away on the canopied bed. He crept into the closet, packing a bag with some clothes before dressing himself in thick leggings, a warm long sleeved undershirt, and a soft brown tunic. He laced up his boots and drew a cloak around his shoulders.   His movements were precarious and precise, making sure the heel of his shoes didn't click against the tile too loudly as he exited the room. The hood of his cloak he draped over his head, keeping his face bowed as he made his way to the stables on the western side of the castle.   The cold air bit at his skin, causing red flowers to bloom in pale cheeks. Seokjin's breath clouded before him, misting in the December chill. He saddled his personal colt, stroking the coarse, dark blond hair. It was a prize horse, gifted him by Namjoon. He remembered his husband's remarks of how the golden mane of the horse reminded him of Seokjin's own blond head. The memory stung his heart, and he pushed it to the side.   He tied his bag to the side of the saddle before mounting the colt, nudging its side with his boot to urge it forward. The horse's hooves clopped rhythmically against the stone streets. By the time the road turned to the frozen dirt path at the edge of the city, the sun had crested over the horizon.   ~-~   It was midafternoon when the red-tipped towers of the Degue capital appeared over the horizon. The sharp points were too steep for the snow to cover them, so the white powder lay in fluffy rims around the bottoms. The sun was shining brightly, making the surrounding snow blindingly white. Seokjin pulled the hood over his forehead in a way that shielded his eyes from the brightness. Faithful sentries guarded the gates, and stood readily at attention as Seokjin approached.   His lips were dry and bitten by the cold, and his stomach growled, having only taken the smallest bites of food at the passing towns, the slightest sips of water, daring not to use too much money. He didn't want the people to know that their Queen was seemingly fleeing the kingdom.   As Seokjin neared the gates, one of the sentries bellowed, "State your name and business in the regency of Degue!"   Seokjin slowed the colt to a trot, then to a stop. He lowered his hood. "Kim Seokjin, Queen of Sule. I'm here to speak with His Majesty King Yoongi."   The guards bowed in recognition, one fist against their heart and falling to one knee in a traditional Deguian salute. "You may pass, Your Majesty."   ~-~   "Seokjin-hyung!"   Seokjin looked away from the stable girl taking away his colt, just barely spotting a head of dark hair and sparkling eyes before he was pulled into a hug. "Hello, Jimin," he laughed good-naturedly, patting Jimin on the back.   Jimin pulled away, smile-eyes sparkling with joy. "Why didn't you announce your coming sooner? Yoongi-hyung could have prepared something... And where's Nam--"   "Whoa, there, Jiminnie," Seokjin stopped him. "Let me settle in just a bit before you begin interrogating me, yes?" He hoped his direct avoidance of Jimin's last inquiry wasn't too obvious.   Jimin blushed. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry." He slid his arm into Seokjin's ushering him to the wing of bedchambers.   He'd left Seokjin in the guestroom beside his own before leaving to inform Yoongi of the Queen's arrival. Seokjin was relaxing on the balcony when the King knocked on his door.   "Seokjin-hyung," Yoongi greeted warmly. "So nice to see you."   "Likewise," Seokjin replied with a respectful dip of the head. "Come take a seat."   Yoongi sat in the other chair furnishing the small balcony. "What is the purpose for your sudden arrival? And without Namjoon, no less."   Seokjin sighed. "There's been some... Unrest in Sule and Anune."   The younger leaned forward. "Yes?"   "The Anunians are unhappy with Namjoon and are causing disturbances. I believe it's a result of his close alignment with you, no offense--"   "None taken."   "But I also believe there's an instigator in Anune riling up the unhappy citizens."   "That's unfortunate," Yoongi sympathized. "But why come to me?"   Seokjin furrowed his brow, rubbing at a temple. "It's been irritating me."   "The instigator?"   "No, not even the problem itself." The blond frowned. "It's Namjoon."   Yoongi raised his brow. "Namjoon?"   "He's being a prick, to put it bluntly." Seokjin blurted. "He's been working so hard, which is understandable, but he's been almost consciously ignoring me." He took in the other's slightly incredulous look. "He forgot my birthday, for heaven's sake."   "Ah." Yoongi's lips were pressed together in a flat line, a bit uncomfortable with how to deal with the situation. "Is there anything you'd like me to do?"   "What could you do?" Seokjin exhaled tiredly.   Yoongi shrugged, but an idea lit up his brain. "I could send one of my advisers to Sule to aid Namjoon."   "Really?" Seokjin pondered the idea. "That could work."   "I'll have my adviser informed right away."   "Thank you, Yoongi."   "My pleasure."   Seokjin had fallen asleep shortly after, exhausted from the day's trip. He'd awoken a few hours later, when a servant girl came to usher him to dinner. He dressed in more appropriate garments and followed.   ~-~   "Hey there, stranger."   Hoseok nearly jumped out of his chair. "Oh, Taehyung! You, ah, you startled me there."   Square grin dazzling, Taehyung plopped into the seat beside him. "Fancy seeing you here."   "Well I am the Chief Adviser, you know."   "Mm." The young physician nodded thanks to the servant boy filling his cup, then lifted it to his lips.   Hoseok swallowed. "Where... Uh... Where's your boyfriend?"   "Working," Taehyung sighed. "His master retired, so he's looking for some aides to help him around the smithy before he finds a permanent apprentice."   "Oh."   "Yup."   Hoseok picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing. He took a sip from his glass but his throat still felt dry.   "Lord Hoseok?"   "Yes?"   Taehyung was going to town on his plate, stuffing his mouth and eating with abandon. In between bites he murmured, "I know that our dear King and little Jiminnie over there aren't listening, they're too occupied with the precious Queen. So I have a question for you," he daintily dabbed at his lips with a napkin, "did you do something to Jimin?"   "D-Do something?"   Taehyung scoffed, giving him a blank, serious glare. "Don't play stupid. You know what I'm talking about."   Hoseok's plate of food might as well have been dust, as it sat nearly untouched on the table.   "I'm waiting," Taehyung hummed.   "We were... in a sexual relationship," Hoseok forced.   "I know that."   "What?"   Taehyung simpered. "I knew as soon as you didn't have me hanged for suspecting you."   "Oh."   "Did you do anything else?"   Words faltered at the tip of the adviser's tongue.   "Hoseok." When Hoseok looked up, Taehyung had a bit of sauce on his chin, and it would have been hilarious if not for the terrifying look in his eyes. "I'm serious. Did you choke and severely injure Jimin?"   Hoseok felt as if his lungs couldn't breathe air to pass his vocal cords, his throat was closed up and his mouth was dry, but a small puff of air and sound left his mouth, just barely distinguishable as an ashamed "yes." Chapter End Notes firstly, I'd like to apologize again for the terrible schedule that I have not adhered to at all. This story was meant to be a little summer project, but summer is coming to an end and I am only halfway done. Also, my scatterbrained writers mind cannot only work on one story at a time. I currently have about five "back-burner" stories that I work on as "breathers" at the same time as I write this story. Thus, especially as the school year is about to begin soon, the chapters will most definitely be more spaced apart. Please stay with me! <333 Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!