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Jan 17
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yoonmin au - king yoongi is trapped in a mirror by an evil sorcerer in the joseon dynasty. for centuries, yoongi lives isolated in his mirror. when modern day graduate student, park jimin, chooses the mirror as his thesis, he doesn't expect to be able to talk to the man inside.

tags: - this is an original commissioned work by @「 -ㅅ-「 ㄱ -ㅅ-ㄱ, thank you for commissioning me! - magic - reincarnation - mention of arranged marriage - parental death - violence ❗️ - tags may be updated with future updates
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ It is the Crown Prince’s twenty-fifth birthday celebration. A night full of festivities such as ample food, copious amounts of alcohol, and the constant beating of drums. People dance in the square of Hanyang in masks, gisaengs tell stories in the teahouses,
and there are fireworks lighting up the sky. The night is lively despite the cool temperature. People know that spring is coming though, that the hardest days of winter are passed when the crown prince’s birthday celebration is held. “What do you want to go do first?”
Namjoon asks as he weaves through the crowd with the crown prince by his side, “Buy some candy or listen to a story? Perhaps have your fortune read by the psychic?” Yoongi shakes his head, tipping his satgat down further to conceal his face,
“I heard there’s a special gisaeng performance in one of the tea houses near the square. The musician is highly skilled.” The two make their way in the direction that Yoongi talks about, Namjoon keeping his hand flexed on his sword as the royal guard meant to protect the prince.
“And how on earth do you know about /that/?” Namjoon prods as they squeeze between bodies, trying to stay together. Yoongi grabs onto Namjoon’s hanbok sleeve just to keep them from getting separated. “No reason,” Yoongi explains with a casual shrug of his shoulders,
“Just heard it from a little bird is all.” “So Jimin?” Namjoon asks. Yoongi’s cheeks go pink at the mention, but he doesn’t exactly deny the connection.“You ought to be careful, your imperial majesty. He is only an assistant minister, he shouldn’t be the focus of your attention.
You ought to pay more attention to your future wife.” Yoongi audibly groans at the mention, “I value Princess Seonhwa plenty.” “Your words claim to, but your actions do not reflect that,” Namjoon informs, “But Princess Seonhwa is off visiting her kingdom for the time being,
prior to the wedding in the summer. Tonight is for festivities only.” Namjoon hastily tugs Yoongi off towards the teahouse. The teahouse is a rickety old building, its walls barely standing together. Yoongi can imagine how lively such a place must become during the nights,
clearly loved by the population of the neighborhood. Off in the distance, the sound of fireworks popping in the night intersperse the sound of the gisaeng playing a lively, jovial song on her saenghwang as another sings while a third and fourth dance together.
The patrons of the teahouse watch, clapping their hands to the rhythm of the song. It is easy to find Jimin in the teahouse, wearing much finer clothes than any of the other customers. Dressed in a hanbok of soft lilac and with his hair coiffed with a perfect curl,
he looks to be almost shining in comparison. He is in the corner of the teahouse, a pot of tea settled on the table in front of his floor cushion, one ceramic cup poured full of brown, steaming tea. He is accompanied by a few friends that Yoongi does not know.
“Oh!” Jimin exclaims as he sets eyes on the crown prince and his body guard, “What are you doing here!?” Jimin clears a space for Yoongi at the table, pushing his friends out of the way for the 2nd most powerful man in the kingdom. He hastily pours a fresh cup of tea for Yoongi,
as well as one for Namjoon as well. “You said this teahouse had the best entertainment,” Yoongi informs as he takes a seat on a floor cushion. The gisaeng on the saenghwang changes to a new tune, the crowd immediately joining in on the excitement. “Yeah,” Jimin admits,
“But I didn’t know you were planning on coming here yourself!” Yoongi takes a sip of the tea, realizing that it’s a weak barley tea that has a subtle taste of dirt. It’s certainly nothing like he’s ever served at the palace. “This is no place for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” Yoongi asks with a cocked eyebrow, “What is that supposed to mean, Jimin-nim?” A faint blush creeps up on Jimin’s cheeks at being so blatantly called out. “These are my friends,” Jimin introduces, rapidly changing the conversation,
“Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. How about sharing a bit of soju with everyone?” The following day, Yoongi wakes up with a pounding headache from his night out. Despite his hearty celebrations for his birthday though, life in the palace does not ease.
He is called to the central court chambers in the late morning following his breakfast. The king, his father, calls court to order. “I think we ought to go ahead with the increase of taxation on Pyeongan and Hamgyong province, as Minister Lee Wang suggested last week.”
Yoongi bites at his bottom lip as his father retakes his seat in the council room. “Abeomama,” Yoongi hisses through his teeth, “Do you think we should have a vote on such a matter? Rather than reduce all of our decision making to one minister?
Perhaps we should ask the delegates from Pyeongan and Hamgyong province about their opinions?” Yoongi keeps his words low, purposely trying to remain respectful of his father’s decision despite the peculiarity behind the situation. “Not now, Yoongi-ya,” the king says sternly,
turning back to the rest of the council room. The rest of the ministers and councilors present all balk at the sudden decision made by the king, but the old Minister Lee Wang looks pleased with himself. His thin, wire mustache twitches in approval at the decision from the king.
“When, Abeomama?” Yoongi presses, disliking the way that Minister Lee looks like he’s won some sort of elaborate game. What business was it to him if the taxation on the northern most provinces is increased? Especially when the ministers who hail from such lands look forlorn,
worried how their provinces will possibly procure the increase. “You hardly have any time to speak these days. You’re always spending time with Minister Lee in the library.” The king looks harshly at his son, eyebrows furrowed deep as his wrinkled skin pulls into a frown.
“Yoongi-ya, you must never, ever question my decisions,” he warns in a low voice, but it’s clear that the rest of the ministers have turned their attention from the taxation law to the display before them, “Confucious would be appalled at your behavior this afternoon.”
Yoongi groans and leans back in his chair, hating that he must show the utmost filial piety to his father when there is something strange going on. In the early evening, Yoongi strolls through the palace gardens, asking the stars what he should possibly do
about his father these days. King Min is a famed ruler for being kind and always ensuring the best for all of Joseon. Yet the past few weeks, his charity has almost vanished overnight, increasing taxation and the necessary offerings from each province in Joseon.
Should the king continue on such a path of blatant greed, it will only be a short while until the average citizen turns on the crown. As he walks through the gardens, he briefly catches sight of a body a few paces away from him, shuffling quickly along the opposite gravel path.
Barely a moment passes before Yoongi is picking up his feet, rushing to meet the person in the intersection between their two dirt paths. “Jimin-ah!” Yoongi calls out, heart thumping just a fraction harder when the young man looks over at the prince, catching his eye.
“Where are you going?” Jimin is dressed in a poised blue hanbok, carrying a small stack of papers clipped together by his side. “I’m headed to the king’s library,” Jimin informs casually, “My Minister is meeting with the king tonight.” “Your boss?” Yoongi questions
as Jimin looks towards the royal estate anxiously. “Yeah,” Jimin says, “I really should hurry, before he gets mad. Please take care of yourself tonight, Yoongi-jeoha.” Jimin gives Yoongi a gracious bow as he excuses himself for the evening. “Don’t work too hard, Jimin-ah!”
Yoongi calls back, unable to understand why his heart flips in his chest so much. Yoongi wakes to find people rushing all over the palace grounds as though they are chickens with their heads cut off. “Hoseok-ah,” he says as his head royal attendant jogs up the steps
to the crown prince’s quarters, “What is the meaning of all this commotion?” Hoseok grabs at Yoongi’s arm and tugs him down the steps. “Your father is very ill, you need to come see him immediately,” Hoseok informs, the words taking a moment to seep into Yoongi’s head.
He has trouble believing it, despite the frantic nature of the entire palace. His father was perfectly fine yesterday, so how can the king suddenly become so drastically ill overnight? Still, when Yoongi is brought to the king’s quarters,
where a large crowd of servants and various councilmen have gathered. As the Crown Prince, Yoongi is hurriedly pushed to the front of the group of people before he is allowed entrance into the king’s personal bedchambers. “Abeomama?”Yoongi asks as he approaches his father’s bed,
next to where the royal physician sits, “They said you are ill?” The king’s skin is yellowed, his eyes hollow and sagging, his face limp and tired. Yoongi has never seen his father like this before. As a young child, Yoongi had never had a great deal of interaction
with his father prior to joining court. The king of Joseon rarely had time for trivial matters like spending much time with his children. Still, Yoongi had always thought of his father as a strong man, with shoulders tough enough to weather even the worst storms.
Now, he looks like simply a deathly sick man. “He does not have much time left, your royal majesty,” the physician informs, “His liver is not functioning.” “Yoongi-ya,” the king croaks, voice scratchy and tired. He lifts a hand to gently caress Yoongi’s cheek with his hand,
“You are still young, but it is time for you to take on your duties as the future king of Joseon.” “No, Abeomama,” Yoongi says, “You can still recover. You can still remain king and teach me how to be a fair and kind ruler.” The king shakes his head softly with a scoff,
“I know my time is ending, my son. You must promise me to lead Joseon to great glory. My only regret is that I will miss your wedding.” “You won’t,” Yoongi shoots back, “You’ll still be here. I know you won’t give up so easily.”
Still, the king drops his hand limply from Yoongi’s skin, “My strong Yoongi. You will be a great king. I know you will make me proud.” He points to a small hourglass that is next to his desk, the sand nearly collected on the bottom. When all of the sand gathers on the bottom,
the king passes on to the next world, Yoongi sitting by his side the entire time. With the king officially declared dead, Joseon is plunged into a state of mourning. Though Yoongi wants to grieve his father’s death properly, the fact of the matter is that
he must take his position as the new king of Joseon quickly. Though the palace and people mourn the late king’s death, life does not stop. Farmers still must work in the fields, things such as academics still continue on daily. A country needs leadership,
even if the king is still experiencing growing pains with his new title. Yoongi sits in the throne room with the council members, going over the various rites and rituals that must take place upon the death of the king. The head state councilor approaches Yoongi about a week
after his father’s death, on a dreary, grey day. “Prior to your father’s demise, he had enacted a change in the succession of power,” the councilor informs. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What did he change?” the new king asks, “Until I sire a son,
power shall go from myself, to my elder half-brother Junki, then to our first cousin on my father’s side, Yoonseok.” The councilor shakes his head looking at his paper a few times to confirm the information to himself. “Should anything happen to you,
the new successor to the throne will be Minister Lee Wang.” Yoongi’s mouth falls open in agape, barely able to believe that his father signed off on such a decree. “Surely there is a mistake!” Yoongi exclaims,
eyes darting over to Minister Lee whose smile is curled into something sinister. “I am afraid not, your royal majesty,” the head councilor informs, “But, due to the royal mourning period, we cannot change any of your father’s changes until at least 3 months following his death.”
At the end of court, Yoongi calls for dismissal. “Everyone may leave for the evening, except for Minister Lee Wang.” All of the councilors and ministers nod, everyone still accustomed to Yoongi’s father calling for Minister Lee to join him for many evenings in the library.
The rest of court exits for the evening, leaving only Yoongi and the minister in the vast court chambers. “What did you do to my father?” Yoongi asks once the doors shut, their closing echoing through the chambers. “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Minister Lee hisses,
“The late king was a valued friend of mine, his death hurts me as much as it must hurt you.” Though he clutches his chest with feign lament, Yoongi sees right through it. “He had never mentioned your name to me once before this last winter,” Yoongi counters,
eyes narrowing as he analyzes the minister before him. “Explain how you became such close friends with my father in such a short amount of time.” “Your most imperial, gracious majesty,” Minister Lee starts, voice turning into something sour despite his revered words,
“I simply lent my services to your father as he required. I would be more than happy to show you for yourself, should you be interested.” “What kind of services?” Yoongi asks, hair raising on the back of his neck at Minister Lee’s strange offer.
“I am quite knowledgeable on every topic you could ever find yourself interested in,” Minister Lee informs, “in the king’s library next to his bedchambers.” For long moments, time stretches between them both. Then suddenly, there is a meek knock at the door
before it’s slowly pushed open. A mop of familiar brown hair peeks in, “Minister Lee? Are you still in here?” “Jimin-ah?” Yoongi says before he can even stop himself. Jimin locks eyes with Yoongi, before he bows in greeting, “What are you doing here?”
“My Minister requires assistance after court is finished,” Jimin informs, motioning to Minister Lee, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would be delighted if you met me in the library after dinner this evening, Minister Lee, along with your assistant.”
Yoongi paces in the king’s library, wondering what he’s gotten himself into and why he even accepted such an offer in the first place. There is something innately strange about Minister Lee, something that Yoongi can’t quite put his finger on.
A little after the eight o’clock bell rings out across the palace grounds, there is a small knock at the door. “Come in,” Yoongi calls out. Minister Lee pushes the door to the side, entering in the library with a small package behind his back.
“I graciously thank you for allowing me in your library,” he says as he procures the small box from behind his back, “I wish to give you a gift to celebrate your ascent to the throne.” Yoongi takes the box, an uneasy feeling taking over his being at the weight of it in his hand.
It is a small lacquered box, with a cover that fits almost perfectly. He slowly lifts the top of it off, to reveal a beautiful looking hourglass inside. It has a beautiful gold exterior with pristine white sand inside. “I appreciate the gift,” Yoongi informs
as he takes the hourglass into his hand, flipping it back and forth to watch the sand fall from one side to the other, “Do you mind if I place it in my bedchambers quickly?” Minister Lee takes a step to the side, allowing Yoongi to exit through the door to the king’s library.
Yoongi heads down the hall to the next room where his bedchambers are, walking through the large room to place the hourglass on the desk where it will be most useful in making sure he doesn’t stay up too late. Yet, when he turns around to exit his bedchambers,
he finds Minister Lee standing in the doorway to his room. “I didn’t need your assistance in placing the hourglass,” Yoongi informs as he comes over to the door, expecting for the minister to move to the side. “No,” he says, taking a step forward into the room,
“but I needed to corner you, and you have fallen perfectly into my trap. Your soul is now trapped in that hourglass, just like your father’s was!” Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow together when Minister Lee procures a dagger from his jacket sleeve. He thrusts forward,
causing Yoongi to tumble backwards in a quick-footed move to avoid being hit. Still, a burst of painful heat radiates through his cheek, stretching up to his forehead. When he opens his eyes, his right eye is drowning in blood. “What the fuck!?” Yoongi exclaims,
scrambling to try and grab something to use as a weapon, but coming up short. “I need you out of the way,” Minister Lee says as he chases Yoongi around the room, only for him to truly back Yoongi into a corner of the room. His back is cold against the mirror that hangs
in the corner of the room. “Once you are dead, I will be the King of Joseon.” “You’ll never take the throne when the rest of the council finds my body bloodied and dismembered!” Yoongi shouts back. “Ha!” Minister Lee laughs as he steps forward, his dagger held above his head,
“As if you’ll have any say in it once you’re dead.” Yoongi shuts his eyes as he braces for the end, when there’s a loud shout, startling them both. “Yoongi-jeonha!” Jimin exclaims as he opens the door. Minister Lee’s eyes burn bright with anger as he thrusts the dagger down,
only for Yoongi to feel himself fall backwards. Suddenly, Minister Lee is on the other side of the mirror, his dagger point stopped just where the mirror is. All that surrounds Yoongi is the same exact setting as before, as though he’s still in his old room, just without company.
Minister Lee looks in horror at the sight of Yoongi on the other side of the glass. He whips around to face Jimin, whose fingers still glow brightly with the remnants of his magic. “You stupid assistant!! Look at what you’ve done; you’ve enchanted the mirror!”
Minister Lee screeches as he uses a tendril of magic to violently toss Jimin to the side of the room. “Don’t fucking touch him!” Yoongi screams as he rushes forward to bang at the mirror, but it seems as though Minister Lee can’t hear him.
Jimin stands up on wobbly legs from the impact as Minister Lee approaches him with the dagger now aimed at Jimin. “Jimin-ah!!! Save yourself!” Jimin, though it doesn’t seem like he hears Yoongi’s cries, dashes out of the king’s bedchambers, with Minister Lee following him.
From there, nothing in the king’s bedchambers change. Yoongi tries to get out of the room he’s been placed in, but the doors do not budge. The windows do not open. There is nobody who comes when he calls. He does not hear birds, nor the sound of crickets chirping.
It seems as though it is permanently daylight in this room, with the only indication of time passing the hourglass on the desk. For many days, nobody comes to save Yoongi. It is not until a few weeks later that Minister Lee returns to the bedchambers, carrying a piece of cloth.
The hourglass on the table falls slowly, a singular grain of sand falling each day in the real world. With a singular piece of fabric, Minister Lee stops Yoongi from seeing anything back in his world.
------ let us know your thoughts!!! i hope to have another update maybe next week-ish? we'll see! thanks for reading the intro~


i write a lot of (dirty) fan fiction about yoonmin she/her. yoongi's age fan account
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