Knightcore - Blog Posts
scrutiny.
To Achilles, the sky would always turn grey
The sky was grey. A vivid dark grey with clouds that resemble smoke. The air smelled like blood and dust. It smelled like flames .. Like agony. It smelled like war.
The white blood trickling flag tied high on the pole was seen far away . Too small to be noticed .
A white flag, splotched with browning red was tied high on a pole, a long way away from her castle. But they were here already. Their metal clicking , clanking swords dripping blood onto the soil that reeked red. The piles of bodies created a pattern nobody would want to trace and yet the queen was calm in her castle.
Her armour was loose and detached as the last left huddled around her. Their heads bent low in shame and fear. This was the end . This is what they feared the most. The ending where they would never return home.
Nobody dared to speak a word. There was nothing else to do. Their queen would have to surrender. She would be beheaded or worse-become a slave. They had heard of the King of the North. The atrocities people suffered in his prison. How women would plead to be killed than be graced with morning’s light. Mercy was something he had long forgotten.
The silver shields crowded in the room reminded her of her coronation. Except the blood sticking to the wounds and the fear that hung low in the air, sticky and suffocating. Her knight speaks up , his voice too bold.
“ I’ve prepared the west wing, my Queen. They are well equipped. The swords , the cannon , we have plenty-” he is interrupted.
“ We will still lose.” her words are sharp and painful ,like the final breath leaving the living.
“ We have the archers given swords too , I think if we try to attack from the south quadrant-”
“Achilles .” The queen gently places her hand on his bruised knuckles . He looks up, too fragile to be viewed at the moment. He had lost hope.
“Why do you lie, Achilles? You hated liars when we were young. Have you changed perhaps?” There is a small smile that grazes the queen's face. Her green eyes searching the golden sea. He blinked before standing straight. “ That’s all we can do .”
“ Is it ?” her smile falters a little. Carefully looking at the torn boy in front. “ My Queen the south quadrant is fully-”
“ Achilles , I’ll come to the foreground.” The golden eyed man looked shocked , betrayed. tell himself this was a nightmare , a terrible terribly cruel nightmare he would wake up from. He would wake up and be 10, a child with loose flowing tangled ebony hair. He would run across the halls of the castle hoping to see his best friend . He would smile at his best friend, grass green eyed girl with juvenile mischief.
“Prepare to clear the entrance, I want no civilians , no soldiers . No one . Bring me the chariot.”
“My Queen-” the murmurs erupt , the walls rumbling .
“ I have sworn to protect my kingdom and that is exactly what I shall do. This is an order. You are my army. You will listen to me and nobody else.” her voice bounces, ricochets off across the crystal sheets of the ceiling , erupts into the ash sky and the sun gleams ,pouring his vessel onto her.
The queen in all her majesty sat on her golden throne , engraved with carvings of silver and ivory. Her sword firm in her hand . the white gown sprawled across the floor. She looked powerful.
She was the ruler and nobody else. The dark blue streaks slightly danced across the tips of her hand. Achilles stood emotionless beside his queen. Witnessing something he never wanted to.
“ Now leave. Do not fear them. Fear can kill you before death. -” There is a loud sigh.
“ I hope I've been a worthy queen.”
There was pain in their eyes. The fear is long gone. There is guilt . There is remorse .They look at their queen one last time before leaving the hall , determined to fight for her. But she was determined to die for them. They chose her and here she was giving away her life for her kingdom, the same that might forget her in years. The men and women adorned with weapons swore to never forget her. They swore to build temples to celebrate her, and promised to chant hymns to praise her. Carve her name over and over again on the walls of the kingdom. The children will sing about her to their children. Their children to theirs.
The wind would cry her story and the trees would listen.
But in the end she is a child. A child forced to wear a crown , forced to rule a kingdom. A child who lost her childhood. They wish to see her smile again. Dance across the halls of the castle, sing during festivals and grant the wishes of the children that cross the doors .
It’s too late now.
Achilles waits for her to explain herself. Tell him to not lose hope. Tell him the fight has just begun. He stares at her. Watching her lips curve into a solemn smile.
“ Some days come sooner than we think they would. There is nothing to mourn here Achilles-”
“ What do you mean ?!” The boy roars. “ You are going to ..die” his sword clatters onto the floor. The tears finally streamed down his tanned face. He sobs. His head safe in his palms, his body trembling.
“ Do not cry , you need to accept reality. This is what I’m born for. This is what the people want. They want to live and I'll let them live.”
“ Do not deny me the right to cry! You are going to die and there is no-thi-ng I can do.” he looks at his empty hands.
“ There is a lot you can do , you can stand with your men and women, with your kingdom. You can be the greatest knight in history.” the queen steps down from the podium.
“Rise dear Achilles, I wouldn't want our farewell to be this way. Lead me to the battle will you?
Stay with me till they come.” It was a silent plea. A small consideration for everything they shared.
“ We could ask for help from the West-”
“Achilles, do not lie to your queen. You know this better than me. We all will die. I cannot sacrifice my people, not anymore. I can't be selfish. A queen can never be selfish.” She walks past her dear companion.
“Do not blame yourself , do not be guilty. This is my choice.” There is an uncomfortable silence that settles. The wind was heard slow and humming beyond the long glass windows.
The queen is afraid to look back, afraid she might break seeing him. If she had to choose, it would be to turn blind. “ Can I hold you, before you….go?” The voice is too faint to be heard. It's not a request , it was a plea.
“I’m afraid not.” The queen's voice is cold and she regrets her words. Like thorns pricking her fingers or nails digging into her flesh. There is pain and remorse but there is duty and responsibilities.
She wasn't afraid to die. She was afraid of what she would leave behind. She was afraid that if she held him, she wouldn't want to let go.
“Achilles,” the queen looks ahead “ They need you right now. The people , the kingdom. Do not waste your tears on me.”
“I love you.” The words are louder and clearer echoing softly. There are no staggering waves of confrontation . She wondered if it killed him to say it out aloud. She remembers repeating the same words to him over and over again. But they were 10 then and he called her a fool. He reminded her who she was and who he was. They both were fools.
“ I know.” The queen leaves him behind.
*************************************************************************************************************
As she walks across the shining marble hallways of a castle she won't ever enter again, she feels empty. The slow blue light draping across her hair, her armour tightened, her sword replaced, there is a power that flows through her. The blue light flickers between her fingers. Slow and light waiting to destroy everything.
And as the tall , heavy ivory doors of the castle push open, she smells the death that approaches. She hears the scream of her name , echoing in the empty hallway a little distance away followed by quick footsteps. It was her brother , the boy with the huge wondrous eyes and cheerful laugh.
“Prepare for coronation Edmund.” She orders the General.
“Your highness-”
“This is an order!” The queen proclaims looking past the crowd of fighters left.
He bows , tears staining his ashen face.
“Two days from today you will have a new King.”
They bow.
“Also do me a favour Edmund, don't let him see this . Lock him up for all I care but don’t let him watch me die.” The older man drenched in war responded with his gleaming eyes. The prince was ordered to be locked up right away.
There are screams and shuffles of resistance heard. Her brother shouts her name over and over again, trying to tackle the soldiers.
“Close the gates as I leave. Everyone stays inside.” The man confirms.
“Thank you. For everything.” She pats his shoulder. The older man watches the tall girl with a pale face. “Your Highness.” They bow down.
If God is who saves you then their queen was their God.
She had twenty full moons to 24.
24 was her favourite number. Sometimes what you need the most are things you could never have.
The blue flames rise slowly , seeping into her skin.
She was alone in the barren land. This isn't a curse for sure. To die for what you love, it never was a curse. As the blue slowly dripped into her blood, she knew she was a grenade. A ticking a bomb that would kill them all.
The castle was so far away. She wondered if Achilles would ever speak of her to his children . tell them about the queen whose hair would sparkle blue fire. About the queen who tried too hard to not love.
She yields her sword like a feather in the wind and the blue bursts into the sky, the land burns in blue fire. There are screams of agony and the land mourns behind.
She saves the day and never herself.
Achilles had lied, his favourite was blue but as the land burned blue and indigo , he hated it so much.
He always loved green.
Turns out my procrastination is stronger than my motivation to actually do the things I'm supposed to do, at least this beauty came out of it!
A WIP I will never have time to color, unfortunately, but I would love to explore this style further and make a companion piece to it. We'll see if life lets me do it !
⚔️ IN ARMOR, ENAMORED — PJM
REQUEST: “no plssss my heart hurts for him, i wanna see knight jimin's reaction when she finally says that he IS the prince for her. HER PRINCE IN SHINING ARMOR ASDFGHJKL😭😭😭”
pairing: knight!jimin x princess!reader
warnings: crazy yearning, he’s down BADD. you will want to read THIS to get a bit more context—highly recommended, not needed.
word count: 768
lulu speaks: so this is super unrealistic. if ur a history guy dont come for me bc this is NAWT how it would’ve gone down. anyways this is an anon request, here u go queenie heehee.
the night’s air is thick with woodsmoke, curling through the palace corridors. the highly-mounted torches flicker against marble columns, casting warm light across your silk gown as your footsteps echo, quick and certain, down the eastern wing.
you know where to find him.
he keeps to silence when he’s not by your side. he sharpens his blade where the guards cannot see his trembling hands. and tonight, he’s there again. alone in the armory, his tunic unlaced at the throat, chest rising and falling with the fury of restraint.
you stop in the doorway. he doesn’t hear you at first.
his back is facing you, one hand gripping the table, the other clenching around the hilt of his sword. the torchlight casts a glow along the ridges of his shoulders, the curve of his jaw, the sweat at the nape of his neck. you watch him breathe.
you take a step forward.
he startles when he sees you.
“y-your highness—thou shouldst not be here—” he says, voice caught between panic and awe, already dropping to one knee. “forgive me, if I have offended—if i have looked upon thee too long—”
“sir jimin,” you whisper.
his head lifts tantalizingly slowly. he doesn’t dare rise, not without your command.
you approach slowly, step by step, until your slipper brushes the tip of his heavy boot. his breath stutters.
you reach down gently and lift his chin with your fingers.
his lips part.
his eyes are windows to his soul, to everything he’s buried. his love. his longing. the desperation he’s fought to keep buried after swearing loyalty to the crown.
“there is no prince in all the kingdoms of the realm,” you murmur, “who could ever be more noble, more loyal, or more breathtaking than thou art, jimin.”
his hands twitch on his thighs. his adam’s apple bobs.
“you are the man i would choose,” you whisper softly, “even if the crown forbade it. even if the monarchy burned for it.”
he finally rises, but only to take one faltering step back. his hand flies to his chest, as if grasping to hold in the ache.
“my lady… thou speakest with mercy, but i am no man fit for thy hand,” he stammers. “i am thy shield. thy sword. i am not permitted to want—”
you reach for him.
he lets you touch him—your fingers curling over his cheek, following the corner of his trembling mouth.
“but I want thee,” you say. “i want no crown without thee beside me.”
his eyes flutter. the silence is thick with tension, with tears of yearning laced behind it. you see his lips move before they open again, voice hoarse with disbelief.
“say it again,” he whispers. “please… i beg. let me hear it once more.”
“i want thee, i need thee,” you repeat, firmer now. “if it takes running from this castle and leaving behind the very throne waiting to hold my weight, i shall do so. but that is unecessary.”
you swear you see his eyes flicker with desperation.
“because I’ve spoken to my father. he will not deny us.” a beat. “we are free to wed.”
he stares at you like he’s dreaming. his eyes are low and dopey, the usually steady beat of his heart falters. his palms are sweat wider than ever before, his chest heaving with heavy breaths despite his throat empty of words.
then—he falls. literally falls. to his knees again, this time with a choked cry, burying his face against your waist, his arms around you like he’s clinging to salvation. his nose nuzzles into your abdomen, eyes shut like he can’t quite grasp the fact that he’s living this moment.
“my angel,” he breathes, pressing a kiss over your stomach, your hip, your wrist. “my beloved… i have wanted thee from the first moment i beheld thy face. i have stumbled in silence for so long—”
your fingers weave through his hair.
“then be silent no more.”
when he looks up again, his eyes are wet with tears and twinkling like stars.
“command me,” he whispers. “to love thee, to worship thee, to be thine husband—and i shall obey for the rest of my days.”
even in his most vulnerable moment of desperation, he wishes nothing more than to follow the orders of the crown.
and when he kisses you at last—it’s not rebellious. it’s not wrong.
it’s beautfiul. it’s exactly what he was destined for.
and at that moment, it felt like the heavens themselves had been waiting for this moment to breathe life into his lungs.
at that moment, he was alive.
lulu speaks pt2: YAYYY I HOPE THIS IS OK. also...i had to consult my sister to make sure i was using the correct old english pronouns…that was an interesting conversation LMFAO the things i do for y’all 🤬 i love it tho heeehe
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