#a tale of crowns azad

[unholyhelsing]

(sees something about atoc) FINE, I'll replay A's route.

[someiicecube]

im normal about this IF game, i swear

[starisveryshiny]

What if A Tale of Crowns but that one go for it nakamura cover?

And as a bonus, the same thing but a base! Free to use for whatever you like, as long as you credit :)

[lampyri]

done :)

[jellyfishcynic]

Replaying A Tale of Crowns and I completely forgot how hot and cold A is at the beginning. Complete whiplash!

But when you go to R's room to talk about the flower and masks, and he says "I won't let anyone hurt you" and my ovaries explode? Glorious???? Love this if???????

[fieldoffeathers]

Doing A’s route since I finished X’s. Here is Azad

i got his double earrings on the wrong side😔 The writing is “I’m glad you agree” btw from the scene deciding on who to tell about the assassination attempt

Bonus crown smiling back

My true artstyle revealed… I draw toony asf

The fandom artist in me is back….

[slenderclaw]

A Tale of Crowns and WIngs of Fire crossover REAL Looks like Atoc phase had returned to me so here I am making more atoc contents once again :] It took me a while to finish all of them as I'm pretty proud of that 😭 I typed up all of the informations about them and their designs in ss down there! (Also second ss mentions A's route major spoilers from chap 7 so read it cautiously!)

And a bonus doodle of my Crown Rojda (left one) with A hehe (A's route chap 7 major spoilers)

[aroacenezhaanddainsleif]

compiling my favorite @ataleofcrowns moments because some of them have been cracking me up

Crescent Blades (mostly Tûjo moments)

idiots (affectionate)

"we're in a court meeting, can we stop talking about locusts"

"LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE GARDEN SIZE LADY-"

overall, 10/10, no notes, except i think the Crown should be allowed to sic locusts on their friends (affectionately) and the nobles (evilly) just for fun

[kashthefrogprin]

(Azad, a character from IF : A Tale of Crowns - @ataleofcrowns )

Rendering excercise!^^ (I draw on Ibispaint with my finger so imagine my surprise when I stopped zoning out haha-🫠)

I recommend the IF too!

[captiveinwayhaven]

God these two are gonna be best friends

[unholyhelsing]

"My heart feels at peace when I'm with you."

(this image but positive)

[zpxck]

Goes insane... + ch.11 moments that make me explode

loosing my FUCKING mind.

[selkies-and-cycles]

“So, my dark-haired beauty,” Xelara turned to the Crown as their group walked down the hallway, arms casually folded behind her head. Crown Havîn looked over at her, one hand still on the cane assisting their right side. The Pale Sword grinned, delivering her joke with mirth twinkling in her eyes. “I’m still surprised you haven’t fallen for me yet.”

Crown Havîn blinked at her before sighing, taking in a deep breath as they pushed brown curls back from their face. “Xelara.” They began. “You are my friend and I am very fond of you. But if you make one more joke about me ‘falling for you’ because of my health,” Havîn raised their cane, sticking it squarely in the woman’s face, right between the bridge between her eyes. “I will stick this lûle directly down your throat.”

Xelara held up her hands in mock defense, stepping back with a casual slide. “Alright, alright, point taken. No more stupid disability jokes.”

Havîn lowered their wooden cane back down with a slight harrumph, but the noise seemed to be mostly in good humor as they continued onward through the hall. Delal hung back with Xelara, mentally chiding the Pale Sword as their Crown sidled up between Azad and Rêzan.

Azad raised an eyebrow at the Crown, the dimples on his cheeks fighting to keep back his amusement. “I’m starting to wonder if you even need my services as the Royal Protector, Majesty, if you’re just going to keep threatening everyone who approaches you with your cane.”

Havîn seemed to shudder at the thought, wobbling slightly at their next stop. “Azad no, please don’t leave me.” They immediately beg, to which the rest can’t help but laugh slightly. “Just because I’ve knocked out a few people before doesn’t mean I’m invincible.”

“Wait, you’ve actually attacked people with it before?” Delal chimed in, Rêzan mimicking her slightly concerned expression.

Havîn stopped, face flushing slightly as they turned their head to the side. “Most of my makeshift ‘mobility aids’ were just big tree branches.” A pause. “They’re disposable.” A quieter mumble. “...And very good for hitting enemies with.”

A brief silence. Rêzan looked conflicted about whether to be concerned or amused, as did most of the others.

Then, Xelara broke the silence.

“Wait, is that why I saw one of your guards limping earlier today?"

"..."

"Havîn..."

"I FELT REALLY BAD OKAY?!"

[fancifulflora]

(SFW) been wanting to cry for some angsty stuff for ATOC, can I request a hc list of how would X, D, R and A react when the Crown is fatally injured, possibly shot by an arrow or stabbed?

Maybe an extra rrq that the Crown is a gentle, cinnamon roll type, that overly kind soul you'd want the least to get hurt but yeah now they're dying

The editor for this tumblr ask literally crashed when i was almost done with X's entry and I've never felt more devastated in my entire life ksahkj. There is also something very similar to this prompt though, it's more about the Crown sacrificing themselves for the ROs. If you're interested in that I'll link it here

I apologize if this isn't the best but I'll try to redo what I can

Azad/Ashti

You were absolutely foolish to get yourself hurt. No matter how kind-hearted you may have been, the Imperial Guard was made to lay down their lives for you. Any injuries you sustained was a stain upon their honor, their own failure to complete their duties.

The Royal Protector fights the icy cold waves of guilt washing over them. They save the lectures and punishments for another time because all that matters in that moment is you.

Their first priority is to get you to safety, the only sign you may see of their inner turmoil not found in their words, but their actions.

The protector's hands shake ever so slightly as they apply pressure to your wounds, hoping to staunch that they can before the healers arrive. A cold sweat chills them down to their very core as they listen for your pulse- only to find it fading away by the second.

They try to reassure you, but it doesn't work. In desperation, they find themselves practically ordering you to keep your eyes open, to not leave them while they're trying to save your life- tightening your bandages up. The unspoken words of concern and love dying in their throat when they look up to see just why you haven't responded.

By the time the healers do arrive, it takes their combined effort to finally pry the Royal Protector from your side.

Dara/Delal

Having served in the military for so long, the General was used to the bloodshed and horror of it all. Gore, suffering, and pain were things they could stomach. Or a least, the ability to do so was required of them.

It's when they see the arrow impaled in your skin, smell the metallic scent of red staining their cloak that the General realizes they may have been wrong. A complex bundle of emotions stirs under those layers of armor, but they have the strength to push through and remain vigilant.

If not for you, then for their own sanity.

Without a second thought, they tear their cloak, torn strips used to either secure the arrow in place and prevent it from moving. If not that, then to help stop the bleeding of any wounds.

They hold their Crown close, all propriety forgotten as the only thing on their mind is you. You need them in this moment and the last thing they'd ever do is fail you. Even if it's killing them on the inside.

What you need in these moments is strength, a shoulder or person to lean on. Which is why they allow you to squeeze the life from their hands. They listen to your weakened voice, giving you the same, almost practiced, words of reassurance they've given countless others.

Yet something about the words this time shakes the General to their core. This time, it feels entirely too raw, like a hundred old wounds made fresh again. The feeling paralyzes them, the unadulterated fear deep in their hardened expression.

As the situation worsens and all seems lost, the General straightens themselves, remaining by your side and keeping a steadfast vigil by your side. Never once do they stray from you. Even as crowds of healers all frantically apply aid to no avail. They remain by your side even as the anguished cries from loyal allies and friends alike sound throughout the halls at news of the inevitable.

And there they remain, even when the last wisps of golden sunlight in those eyes of yours wither away.

Rozerîn/Rêzan

To say that you were everything to the Sorcerer would be an understatement. They had found themselves and their entire life turned upside down by your very being, your warmth and kindness endearing you to the Sorcerer.

You were their purpose, and their friend.

So it's surprise that when they rush to your side, panic and fear overtakes them. The tension is almost palpable in the air as they order, practically beg for others to secure your safety- to fetch the healers- to do something.

It's also in this very moment that they curse their own abilities, or lack thereof. Healing magic simply wasn't a big priority, especially when there were so many others who could look after your health and safety.

If only they had studied more - practiced more- perhaps paid more attention to their surroundings or kept a better eye over the many enemies of Arsur.

A gentle hand, your hand, frees them from the mental prison they were trapped in, lifting the weight of guilt and shame enough for them to focus on pouring every once of themselves to saving you.

You had saved them, been there by their side from the very start.

They had to return the favor, to repay you for all your trust.

Those sentiments ring through their head, repeated over and over again like a mantra as they feel a sharp pain in their skull. Hands trembling from the sheer amount of magic they were using.

The darkness, a very similar one you once saved them from sets its familiar claws into them, the Sorcerer collapsing besides you- their fists bunching up the fabric of your clothing. With what little strength they can muster, the Sorcerer pulls you to their chest, cradling their dying star to their chest.

Xelara/Xelef

The mercenary was a mess. Clever words had long left them by the time they reached your side. Instead there were only frantic, broken phrases of concern and orders to remain still less your wounds worsen.

It almost feels out of character for them, at least, for those who only knew the mercenary by reputation. Having lived the life they did and taking on a profession that exposes them to danger so very often; the Pale Sword had a relationship with death that bordered on being blasé. Even when other Crescent Blades fell in battle, their leader could keep a rational mind about it. For many, this helped to cement the band of mercenaries as relentless, a force to be reckoned with.

If only the gossip mongers and general public could see them now, form hunched over your own. The corner of their vision blurred from the stinging of tears threatening to spill.

They had expected an end like this for them, perhaps even desiring it over the withering they'd have to endure from aging, but for you? Nothing like this was supposed to happen to you. You were the Crown of Arsur. The leader of millions that all relied on you being safe and well. And, perhaps more importantly to the mercenary, you were also the keeper of their heart.

Were? No, you are the Crown of Arsur. And you will live through this. You have to. Otherwise...

The Pale Sword ends the notion right then and there, focusing on the present and being by your side. By now, they've done what they can for you, whether through what general first aid they know or through the healing magics of one of their Blades.

Moving you was out of the question, the very attempt to do so drawing a loud cry of pain from your lips. A wince of guilt burns in the mercenary as they pull back, trying to keep your focus on them instead of the carnage of battle.

The feeling of helplessness isn't an unfamiliar one to the mercenary, however, it's one that the Pale Sword despises to their very core. But what could they do for you that hasn't already been done? What could they do to ease your undeserved suffering?

What they do best.

Lie.

It only takes a moment for mercenary to pull their act together, a practiced, albeit softer smile, gracing their features. What would have been smoothed, honeyed lies of your condition fall flatter than they'd like. Your weak smile tells them as such, a weakened, forced laugh humoring the mercenary and giving them one last act of kindness they know deep down they do not deserve. Nevertheless, they embrace the comfort wholeheartedly, bringing the back of your chilled hands to their lips, their touch- their kiss, returning your gift with one last hug of warmth before the light in you fades away.

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 29

Azad propaganda:

“Azad is so >>>>>> that's it”

Mikaze propaganda: "he is a beautiful robot boy who also sings......"

[procstinatingmyfanfics]

The Crown, newly hired: *assassination attempts* *nobles casually shit talking* *trauma dump* ✨️another death in the family✨️

The Crown: