daedae

jwiminnie  asked:

JO ❤️❤️❤️ ish crying atm cos I went back and retread training wheels and I got my ion you. Idk I love the fluff and hurt I just crai my heart hurts and it's so good ilu bye

omg spare urself from rereading thats so,,,,,,,,,, ahhhhhh daedae i’ll always remember you as the first person to preset to me something based off my fics (your playlists, still crying abt it) so here: have some joseon era!! royal! au Σ੧(❛□❛✿)
@berry-happy-tokki i felt like ur my only tfbtia stan so here;;; also @crackedgrace i feel its ur kinda thing bc ur Soft;;;;;
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origin? unknown. name? unknown.

and yet he was their best fighter. Golden One, they had called him, after finding nothing on him but a gold pendant around his neck, the only clue to who he was and where he came from.

he made his grand appearance in the royal courts, in front of the king himself, sedge hat seated sideways, hair messy and cheap fabrics on him all disheveled. he had thrown the regal red doors of the court open, before dragging the corpse of the leader of the assassins that had attempted to infiltrate the royal palace.

“this man brought twenty men trying to bring your empire down. i killed him.” the stranger says emotionlessly, throwing the dead body into the middle of the court, eliciting varied reactions from the magistrates and advisories, royalty and nobles.

“how disgusting! just disrespectful!”

“the commoner dare to disrupt a royal meeting with a dead body?!”

“this peasant certainly has absolutely no manners-”

hearing all these, the intruder makes a clumsy attempt at bowing to pay his respects to the king, kneeling and getting up before turning to leave. “some of your palace guards are injured, but it’s okay, the rest of the twenty i’ve stacked neatly in the courtyard. sorry for the disruption.”

another awkward bow, and the man with the sedge hat walks off, murmurs to outcry with every passing second.

“hold on a minute- what’s your name?”

“i- i don’t know, either.”

he’s the best fighter there is in joseon. nobody knows where he’d picked up such powerful and formidable techniques at such a tender age, but then again, he had pledged allegiance as soon as he had sparred with the crown prince. he’s never lost to anyone before, not even his deceased mentor, and now- he loses every one on one duel with the heir to the throne.

“again!” he shouts, blood boiling with rage, stray hairs undone from the red cloth pulling his hair back into a bun. it’s his 93rd loss. crown prince park jimin had a natural flair for sword fighting since he was a child, and as a blue blood he easily managed to be honed by the best only to surpass them. their Golden Fighter carries their flags of crimson peonies to all their battles and wars, and he fights every one of them as if it were his last.

while prince jimin’s strokes with his gyeom are precise and swift, he exudes grace and elegance with every stab, every movement masculine but also very beautiful, as if it were an art form. jimin had trained ever since he wielded a sword in his hands- practiced until his hands bled, practiced until the sun went down and rose again. their best fighter was young, stubborn, and had an unwavering amount of stamina. he’s the only opponent that jimin deems worthy of duelling.

when jimin steps onto battle ground- it’s automatically turned into victory ground. his movements are sharp, merciless; but the king never let’s him go, given his status, so sometimes he imparts these little tactics and tips to their fighter, when the two of them are alone, when there’s no one else looking.

when jimin fights with his sword, it’s like he’s telling his opponents come and get me, catch me if you can. whereas for their chosen one, it’s different. their representation of victory exudes the aura of i’m coming for you.

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