#atoc prompt
Note
Hello!
I need to say that I love your writing, I would like to ask..how do you think will Xelef confess to the Crown? And if he will be the one who will confess first.
Awww, Thank you so much! It's been a hot minute since I've written anything- especially ATOC. At the moment I have negative interest in anything but Baldur's Gate 3 so all my writing time is being burned up romancing all the companions and racking up hours in the game.
I don't know if this is a request for writing like a fic or hc, but to avoid leaving it hanging, I'll just ramble a bit- try to paint a picture or two for you, anon. (Hopefully, it'll suffice lol)
Considering how the game is set up, whether X confesses or the Crown would probably depend entirely on how forward the Crown is. Although I wouldn't rule out there being a choice to make with variants based on personality.
If X were to confess though, I'd imagine it could easily go a hundred different ways. However, there are a few scenarios in particular that really squeeze at my heart.
Though grand gestures seem to be right up X's alley, my personal favorite parts of their route have always been those intimate moments where it's just the two of them. A simple mercenary and Crown. Whether it's brushing a touch up their neck or a simple "good night" traded across a tent- those bits hold more meaning to me personally as a reader.
So just shut out the world and imagine the Crown and X doing the same. Time slows to a crawl as gold and green softened gazes get lost in each other. Words are spoken in the softest tones, whispers only mean for the Crown's ears alone and X's in return. A hand cupping a cheek with the utmost care- as if the slightest wrong move would shatter the moment between the two. Foreheads press and then the world itself freezes. It just stops- for what probably feels like an eternity. An impasse for both of them, one last chance for either of them to back out.
But they don't.
Be it a slow and gentle kiss, or one of passion and fervor, X is most certainly going to leave the Crown breathless. There's no doubt about that. But afterward? I could certainly imagine them picking the Crown up or at the very least, pulling them into a tight embrace. There'd be laughter, a way to ease the built-up tension and transition them back to reality. Only this time, side by side in a way they haven't been before.
Another alternative scenario is one of my personal favorite tropes- the kind of confession that's desperate and needy. A confession spurred by the brush of death, the very real idea of never being able to articulate one's feelings and almost losing someone you may never have even considered losable seared in one's mind.
I mean, the Crown has already survived many attempts on their life and made it so far with a small squadron of guards around them at all times. And X is a peerless mercenary of great renown and skill who's been through hundreds of battles. The very idea of the other dying probably isn't a notion either would want to entertain for too long either.
Regardless of who's hurt. At first, there would be plenty of other people around, concerned allies and friends alike checking on Crown or X- the bustle of activity sparing the both of them from their whirlwind of emotions and thoughts... at least for the moment.
But then one by one they leave.
And now the two are alone.
Maybe there's a small joke to lighten the mood. Maybe not.
Either way, I love the imagery of bandaged hands clasped around the hands of another, the grip and squeeze given weak, but reassuring nevertheless.
One voices their concern, their wish- a demand more like- for the other to get better. The words bring a small smile to the other, repressed or otherwise.
This confession in particular could be a completely wordless one- the affection found in a look or an action rather than whatever flowery language could be traded in the moment. It's not a confession I think would get an answer immediately- nor would I want it to.
I much prefer for whoever's injuried to see the blossoms of love in those small, almost benign actions. To see it in the amount of worry pulling at their would-be partner's expression. To see how the relief from seeing them alright lifting the metephorical weight from their shoulders.
And then they leave, leaving the injured one to their thoughts and the daunting task of reeling their heart back to normal.
Perhaps it's less of a "confession" as the first example, but it's one I enjoyed considering immensely.
#xelara/xelef#atoc#a tale of crowns#its all speculation ofc lol youd have to ask cherry for a more concrete answer#headcanon#I think???#it's more of me just putting my thoughts to words and calling it a day sdfkjh#the reality is prob going to be 100% different but its still a nice prompt to mull over#sakjdh i didn't peer edit this- i just cranked it out bc it's like- 7 am where i am and ive been sitting here since 5.#apologies everyone
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"Waves" prompt for Interactive Summer Event !
Hi ! I thought it might be a great way to start publishing on this blog by writing a prompt suggested by @interactivesummer and inspired by one of my favorite characters of one of my favorite IFs : @ataleofcrowns !
Here it is :
When she turned around, he was there, a familiar smile on his face. And it was almost disturbing how much she felt close to him at this very moment even though their meeting was quite peculiar. After all he was a mercenary, someone we should fear despite his playful side and his beautiful green eyes. But even then, something about Xelef felt so calming, like waves caressing the shore in a peaceful rhythm even though clouds are forming in the horizon. From then on, it seemed like only a word, a touch or simply a smile could calm her mind. She experienced it that night when she felt like she was drowning in an ocean of thoughts, falling gradually in the darkest deep sea. But then he appeared, like a lighthouse clearing the waters. He brought her back to the surface with his comforting warmth contrasting deeply with the coldness of the room that was now reappearing before her eyes. And for the first time she almost felt home, safe. But it was when she looked at his face, while listening to the steady beat of his heart, that she noticed something. For once Xelef was quiet, seeming at peace. That’s when she realized that both of them were probably buffeted by the same storms. But somehow, when they were together, those seemed to ease. So, she wondered if maybe the only option was to find comfort in the calming waves of each other. But today still, one thing is for sure ; when she looks into his eyes, the ocean falls silent.
#interactivesummer#there it is !#please forgive my english :(#a tale of crowns#atoc#xelef#writing#prompts
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[ID: a digital artwork of General Dara from a tale of crowns. He is depicted in a halfbody and has a sword struck to his chest and is holding the handle, his eyes are closed and has a troubled look. Dara is using his plated armour, a sash/skirt around his waist and a cape. He is colored in shades of pink, purple & yellow. Infront of him is a circle of flowers. End ID]
The hyssop symbolises sacrifice, and it’s no secret that with great love comes great sacrifice.
This is for the atoc (character) prompt 2!
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Hello everyone! We're back with another prompt list to celebrate the release of Chapter Seven, though I've already seen so many artists posting such terrific and gorgeous drawings in the past few days (check the #gallery tag on the blog to see the latest!).
Much thanks to my betas for helping me come up with the prompts! As a reminder, you can find the previous prompt list here, which you can also use if you'd like.
This prompt list challenge will be happening during the entire month of August! You can post your work whenever you like during this month and it will be reblogged to the game blog. Whether it be fanfic, fanart, edits - anything goes!
Without further ado, here’s the list!
elements
for air; the endless Sky
for water; the sacred Waters
for earth; the unyielding Earth
for fire; the eternal Flame
other elements; the Sun, the Eclipse, the Moon, the Void, the Stars
character prompts
1 word prompts
for X; regret, scars, lies
for A; legacy, resentment, grief
for R; entrusted, longing, home
for D; failure, sacrifice, uncertainty
1 sentence prompts
for X; “Then tell me, how can I convince you?”
for A; [They are] a place where you can catch your breath.
for R; “Then let me help you carry it.”
for D; "What do you want?"
scenario prompt
Depict or describe your Crown's inner thoughts and/or appearance right after the coronation ceremony - remember to tag for spoilers!
Remember to @ the game blog when posting your works, or tag it as ‘#atoc prompt’!
Have fun with the prompts, I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with ❤️
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A Tale of Crowns: Records of the Crown Fill In Form!
How this works: remember doing MadLibs or fill in the blank homework in school? This is the same. Simply take this text and replace all red text with appropriate answers regarding your crown and their characterization.
Be respectful of the culture your character comes from and seek out more information if there is something you don't know or are uncertain about.
If you use this form, please link back to the original post so others can use it as well.
Phrases or sentences in parentheses can be omitted entirely. In fact, I welcome any manner of edits in your own version, just continue to link back to this post as your prompt.
- - -
A Tale of Crowns: Records of the Crown
A record by the scholar Erez Barzanî on the preferences and behaviors of the Twenty-First Crown of Arsur.
While this crown comes from humble origins, and likely did not have the luxury of leisure, now they have it, they are often found reading/practicing magic/learning about the gardens/other hobby here. They have a fondness for falconry/stargazing/other hobby here as well.
In the mornings they rise early/late/at a reasonable time/other detail here. They prefer a savory/sweet/other detail here breakfast, as well as other meals, and are selective/adventurous/other detail here in foods they are willing to try. The food they enjoy the most seems to be favorite food here (time to go learn).
For their taste in clothing they prefer robes/dresses/shalvar in shades of favorite color here. And in adornment they are light/heavy/other detail, preferring type of jewelry in plural here most of all. They tend to wear their hair in a braid/up/other hairstyle here. They seem to care/not care for appearances and are stylish/plain/elegant/other adjective here.
In conversation they are found charming/blunt/other adjective here. If you are close to them, you can often smell their preferred scent of perfume/scent/other detail here. I imagine if one were to be able to have private audience with them they would laugh easily/make you laugh easily/talk seriously/wax philosophical/other detail here. (I recall they mentioned a fear of spiders/snakes/the dark/other detail here once.) And when idle, they tend to tap their fingers together/bounce their leg/other tic here. Generally, their expression is neutral/smiling to themselves/thoughtful/other adjective here.
They seem most accustomed to travel./(, and have developed a devoted/loving/fond/other adjective here relationship with their horse, who is called horse name here). They seem disinterested/interested/ambivalent in learning and honing their martial skills. In magic, they are disinterested/interested/ambivalent, and show a predilection towards inner/outer magic.
When I asked them, they said their fondest memory of their parents was:
short answer here in the voice of your crown
They seem most fond of their companion(s), X/R/A/D, and are quite warm/kind/other adjective here to their serving staff. In the evenings when they are not busy with the duties of the crown, they can be found dining with friends/writing in their journal/studying geography/other leisure activity here. They tend to go to their bedchambers to sleep early/late/when done with their work/other detail here. This crown appears to be a hard worker/diplomat/adventurer/charmer/other detail here. I look forward to further learning about them and their reign to come.
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unconvinced
congratulations on outdoing yourself yet AGAIN with chapter 7 @ataleofcrowns 💛 you are truly on another level queen 😌✨
prompt: “Then tell me, how can I convince you?” (list here)
pairing: X/crown
rating: spicy T 😏
word count: 1,929
summary: ‘It would be so easy to make him kneel for you, the way he clearly wants to—’
Crown Navid shows Xelef that two can play his game.
—
Liar.
It’s what the earth spirits had said, but now, ensconced in his palace, where he has invited in those who are merely curious about him at best and possibly strategizing his murder at worst, Navid hears it in his own voice.
The control he has maintained since Ishrah and Siham opened his doors this morning squeezes around his chest. It pinches and he can feel his heart bursting out of the gaps of its hold, turning into spikes.
Navid’s eyes thin into slits of piercing gold. His tone, now devoid of its casual charm, is flat. Unamused. “I’m not convinced.”
Xelef, just as persistent, gauges him. Navid can pinpoint the exact moment the sellsword decides on his next tactic, green eyes shifting hues like a turning emerald.
“Then tell me, how can I convince you?”
Just as much as Xelef is surely leaning on his sensory abilities, Navid’s awareness of the situation rises. Above his disrespected aggravation and Xelef’s agile contortions he can see the conflict between his own present and Xelef’s past. In the back of his mind he notes a sense of affronted duplicity—isn’t this the same man that warned him against self-destructive paralysis, the one that saw through his worries leading up to today and offered reassuring distraction?
Why can’t Xelef use that insight to understand the position he’s put a newly coronated Crown in, instead of to devise an escape from the consequences of his impulses?
Xelef steps close, as skilled at wielding a weapon as he is his own body. Navid’s thick brows furrow at himself, at the way his reaction betrays him, heart rabbiting in response to the enticingly deep fragrance clouding the mercenary, the ridges and valleys of his form set in such a tantalizing display. Navid can feel the heat from Xelef’s bare chest even through the rich fabric of his ceremonial robes and the magic imbued in them. Xelef’s hand on his shoulder is a reminder of his size and strength, of his willful potential to overpower.
“Shall I beg you again, on my knees this time?”
Every single thing about him is a distraction.
If Xelef wanted to keep up their easy flirtation from this morning, he shouldn’t have soured it by testing the limits of Navid’s control. But now that he has…
An open palm finds the heated skin of Xelef’s abdomen, gliding across hard muscles; callouses catching on the random, puckered skin of his scars. Navid can hear Xelef’s rushed inhale before it turns into a low chuckle. He lets his lips brush against the goosebumps on Xelef’s neck before he murmurs, breath hot on his ear, “Kneel, mercenary.”
The last word is a sharp hiss, accompanied by the bite of his blunt nails on Xelef’s bare skin. The muscles underneath his touch jump as Navid pulls him down, fingertips gliding up his torso along the way. Xelef would look almost reverent, on his knees before him like this, if it weren’t for the devious gleam of getting what he wanted in his eyes.
Navid’s lips twist into something wicked.
“Beg for my forgiveness,” he repeats, voice husky, one hand cradling Xelef’s jaw in a commanding grip. Navid feels powerful. Different from the ways before when he has bent Xelef to his will because this time, there’s no perceptive audience.
Distraction or not, this is all for him.
Xelef bites his bottom lip and Navid eyes the plumpness of it, gaze sharpening in vindication as the man in front of him lets out a shaky, almost whining, exhale.
“Please forgive me, Navid,” dark eyelashes flutter in a practiced way that Navid is nonetheless susceptible to. The use of his given name throws him off guard, widening his stare. Another distraction, or an attempt at sincerity? Only the Void knows for sure.
Navid nods, letting some of his cool charm return in an inviting smile. The hand on Xelef’s jaw slides to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through the smooth locks of his hair. “You look good like this, Xelef.”
“So do you,” he eyes Navid hungrily, not even hiding the lascivious way his stare roves from right below his waistline, up the slim taper of his waist, the flare of his shoulders, then lingers on his lips before making eye contact and meeting fire with fire.
Navid’s smile shifts into a smirk and he tightens his hand into a domineering fist, pulling Xelef’s hair, holding him in precarious place as he leans over him. He makes a show of sliding his eyes from Xelef’s to his mouth as he bends closer then closer still, until the mercenary’s long lashes flutter closed in anticipation.
Their lips are separated only by their breath when Navid tugs—not gently—and Xelef lets out a choked half of a groan.
“Don’t ever deign to undermine me like that again. Especially not amongst these vultures,” Navid spits the last word out, voice testy and dangerous in a way Xelef has never heard before. He conceals his unspoken ‘I need you on my side.’ in another jarring pull of his hair, forcing Xelef to bare his throat to him. “Do you understand, Pale Sword?”
From his vantage point he can see Xelef’s desperate swallow, can hear the submission in his shaky exhale of a response. “Yes… my Crown.”
“Good.”
Navid breaks away like a glacier’s cliff dropping into the sea. For half a second Xelef crumples, not expecting the loss of support so immediately, before his muscles clench and he regains his balance. Spirits help him, but he is not immune to the way Xelef’s abdominals, framed by the rich textures of his formalwear, dance under his tanned, hairy skin.
Navid keeps a calculated, cunning look on his face as Xelef rises on his own, eyeing him in equal parts defeated respect and surprised annoyance.
“I suppose I deserved that,” comes the begrudging admission. Finally, Xelef’s sincerity outweighs Navid’s doubts.
“Don’t mistake my reciprocation of your attention for naïveté,” Navid pins him with a knowing stare, a reminder that as much as Xelef can see through him, he can see the same. And to let him know that, even still, he wants to continue cultivating this “whatever you want it to be” that’s growing between them. Navid doesn’t know what Xelef’s romantic past looks like—and doesn’t much care—but if Xelef wants to keep courting his favor, he needs to know that there are harsh lines that Navid will not allow him to cross.
“I’m sick of people hiding things I should know from me.”
The last part comes out more resentful than Navid intends, tinged with his turbulent reflections about his parents’ debilitating omissions and how exhausting it is to think of learning to divine the nobility’s nebulous motives and intentions.
“You’ve known me for mere days, and you expect me to bare all my secrets to you because I helped you once?” Xelef snaps back, patience run ragged after Navid turned the tables on him. It stings. The fatigue of the day’s emotions slams into Navid all at once, his hurt the delayed catalyst.
He takes a deep breath, recentering himself. Is his pride worth it? They’ve both made their point. And he doesn’t quite yet know where the line for Xelef is, when taking advantage of their attraction to each other morphs into something destructive.
He sighs. So many calculations today, mind overstuffed by the endless observations he’s made to try to perceive everyone around him. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
Navid shrugs, closing himself off from the weight of it all. He never asked for any of this responsibility, still doesn’t understand why the spirits chose him. Did they do it with the person he could’ve been before he spent a decade on the run in mind? Or with the decorated shell of a man he is now, desperately trying to fill his insides after those he trusted to protect and guide him failed? Maybe he really is naive, for dreaming that his problems could be solved simply by finding his sorcerer and finally becoming the Crown.
“You’re right, after all. We’ve only known each other a short time, and we’re not friends. I’m only your employer, right?” If Xelef wants to shield himself with that context, so be it. Navid is just as good at hiding.
“Navid…” Regret paints Xelef’s face an unfamiliar expression.
“It is what it is. You have your secrets. I have mine.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Xelef,” he interrupts tiredly with an open palm. “It’s alright. I understand. Just don’t get me killed.”
Navid forces a smile to soften the jibe, retreating back into performance. Xelef opens his mouth as if to say something, brow bunched as he seems to sway between decisions.
“I’ll just see you—”
“The Mîrs of Rojan and I have a long, bloody history together. I don’t want to speak of Behram, but…”
Xelef holds Navid’s gaze, still wavering for a beat before choosing his path. Something parts behind his eyes, something that allows both of them to see. How alike they are. How tired. How terrified and cautiously hopeful.
Xelef tells his story about Behram’s predecessor. Navid listens raptly, fully aware that this vulnerability could be fleeting, and hangs onto it. The part of him that doesn’t ache for Xelef as he unravels the tragedy of his childhood is grateful for the distraction from his own maelstrom of trauma and emotions.
“Then why did you help me?” Navid asks, feeling the gulf of his status between him and Xelef more distinctly than ever.
“I… had my own reasons,” he doesn’t meet Navid’s eyes when he answers. Though it’s not the reassurance that he wanted to hear—that he did it for more than just the potential of gold or vengeance—at least it’s the truth.
“In any case, does this sate your curiosity a little bit?”
Navid recognizes the attempt at lightheartedness as a tool, though just like with his own attempt earlier, it’s outweighed by the ghosts that linger around them both.
“Is this usually how you leave people sated after kneeling for them?” It’s not quite the same playfulness that’s usually between the two of them, not after what they’ve found out about each other today, but it proves that they can bounce back. Move forward, together.
“No, but today was a special occasion,” Xelef smiles, though it looks dim on his face. It flickers away, making room for the solemnity in his voice. “You should know—I told you that because I wanted to.”
“I do know.”
Navid reaches for Xelef, this time with no ulterior motive, but someone clears their throat before they touch.
“Yes?” Navid tries not to let exasperation color his tone—the guards don’t deserve his ire. Still, he can’t help but be disappointed at the interruption, especially since this feels like some sort of breakthrough between him and Xelef.
“Forgive the intrusion, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Ah, right. The banquet and its accompanying expectations. Navid sighs, imagining the steam rising from the bath he plans on sinking into after all this. Alone.
“You go on ahead,” Xelef concedes. “I think I need some time to myself.”
“Will I see you later?”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” relief flushes out Navid’s discordant emotions, and he holds on to the smile that Xelef sends his way to bolster him for the rest of the night. “You haven’t paid me yet, after all.”
“I’m good for it,” Navid hopes his returning smile, laden with the complications of things said and unsaid but sanguine nonetheless, does the same for Xelef.
#a tale of crowns#xelara/xelef#x/crown#interactive fiction#atoc prompt#atoc spoilers#otp: for you i'll try my very best#fic#oc: navid riahi#congrats again bestie 😘#the distractions to lovers HIT SO FUCKING HARD IN CHAPTER 7#i am LOVING the progression of the romance and the direction it's going#the payoff is gonna be DELICIOUS#just had to stretchhhhhh out that scene and explore a delicious what if 👀#also yes this is THEE navid with the bedroom eyes#i know y'all have seen his portrait 😏#alt title: X fucks around and finds out
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drowning // v. intr. to be overwhelmed by something, whether physically or emotionally; by a torrential flood or inconsolable grief.
trust // v. to place confidence in: rely on.
“To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don't grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.”
― Alan Wilson Watts
Crown Ardil and Ashti prompts for @ataleofcrowns | pose ref
#atoc#a tale of crowns#atoc prompt#atoc crown#ashti#i hope i did miss ashti justice i love her to bits#click for higher res#ardil finds the most questionable pieces of clothing in the royal wardrobe#yknow what#nothing is stopping me from drawing more of atoc goodness#im taking this opportunity to develop my art style#thank you cherry for sharing your vision with us#q
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for the A Tale of Crowns Prompt Celebration for the new chapter
Drowning~ a more symbolic and graceful piece than what really happened in the story to my Estêr (they/them)
#atoc prompt#atoc#was gonna make it even more dramatic but honestly today kicked my ass#that is Xelef's hand for those curious#as he is my current fav#and I keep swapping between red and ash blonde hair cause X calls you star if you have blonde hair#and I'm weak to star and space aesthetics#but ester's always been kinda red brown
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“It will drown you.”
...“I won’t let it.”
For @ataleofcrowns prompt: drowning
Check out the game, it’s fantastic 💖
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The @ataleofcrowns fic I'm working on will likely take awhile at my current snail’s pace, and I need a break. Made a little Kerîm coronation collage in the meantime; I think he turned out pretty cute. The prompt here is, of course, the Sun, and I call it, His Imperial Majesty, Crown Kerîm, would really like Ashti to tell him he’s pretty ♡
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Depths ;
((Prompt: 1 word, for the crown: drowning. Gender-neutral - as I won’t be describing their looks - but they have the personality of my personal crown; quite the stubborn little thing lol.
Also, for those who might not know, this is a prompt for ‘A Tale of Crowns’, a high fantasy interactive love story with Middle Eastern roots, by Cherry! Link here, so please go play it and support the author: https://crownbright.itch.io/a-tale-of-crowns
SPOILER WARNING: there is a snippet of chapter six posted in the beginning so please skip if you haven’t read it yet.))
-x-
Let go, the temple says.
“It’s mine to keep,” you reply, your voice a faint echo, swallowed up by the sound of the water around you. Your hand clenches into a fist atop your heart.
It will drown you.
You close your eyes.
“Then let me drown.”
Chapter Six: The Vultures Circle
-x-
It goes simply like this -
In another (better) life, you wake to Israh’s face and the worried call of your name; your bedroom flooded with water, the spirits of the temple surrounding you. Your chest has the same phantom pain lingering as your nightmare, but you are able to ignore it, and you go about your duties.
In this one, however, you do not wake; you are still within the water and it has no intention of letting you go… at least, not just yet.
The temple is curious, calm, but there is an overwhelming sadness within its depths that causes the ache in your chest to deepen.
You wish…
You start to sink beneath the water again.
Why?
You could see them again…
The temple fades out of view the longer you drop, darkness fast approaching once more, but the emotions you sensed before are still there, wrapped around you.
You’re not sure if they’re supposed to be helping you, or if they’re just there to watch you struggle.
This time, as air escapes your lungs and rushes to the surface, it hurts.
Why?
You can’t tell if it’s you or the temple asking anymore.
Why is this happening? –
- Why can’t you let go?
Why didn’t they tell me? -
I want to see them, please just let me…
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
The farmhouse comes into view again, surrounded by an inky darkness, sunken into itself as if to depart a message, and it’s more than you can possibly bear a second time – your face crumbles as you turn to face it, hair billowing behind you – and you weep, hot tears joining the cool water around you.
You have to let go. Something urges you.
No. You think. I could never.
Why?
You would never understand. Nobody could.
As a child, you’d always been the type to love too hard, and hold too tightly. What was yours was yours, and when it left (which everything did eventually), you were devastated.
You never moved on, and you never forgot. You never forgave either.
The water swirls around you, almost irritated, and it yanks you down as if it sees that gentleness has never been an option for you.
This will happen to you.
This is your future.
So be it. A part of you has always been vicious, and as the water propels you right in front of the wreckage of your childhood, you find you mean it.
In this moment, you are not the crown; you have no one counting on you, no one looking to you to fix things, and no one to fail… you are just a person – a person who has seen too much, lost too much, and has no clue on how to deal with it all.
You grasp one of the wooden beams and hold it close, allowing your fingers to dig into it (the sting bringing you some clarity).
If I am to be ruined, you counter, applying pressure with your hands, more and more, like the raging swirl of emotions around you, then I will be a spectacular ruin.
The wooden beam breaks (the water is so, so, sad), and you wake.
Israh is calling you, your room is flooded, the spirits are around you (but angry, angry), and you ignore the ache in your chest.
You are the crown. You do your duty.
But you drown, and no one notices.
#my writing#atoc prompt#a tale of crowns#crown centric#poor thing#i wrote this because i know im gonna get the bad ending#im not good at choices#so if im going to be ruined#i will be a spectacular ruin#lol#i hope you guys like this#i had fun writing it#angst
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hi! could i request this prompt:[ ATTENTION ] sender peppers a series of caresses over receiver’s face in an attempt to make them laugh or smile.
maybe the crown is wearing lipstick
btw could i also have ashti on this? ty! love ur writing!
ahhhHHhh tysm I'm glad you love my writing! I had this idea based off of one of the asks Cherry completed- I can't really find it atm but I really liked the soft vibes
I also tried writing it from another perspective; just for fun really
Warm, gentle sunlight filtered through the silk curtains of the palace, the light dancing across Ashti's restful slumber. Still, she didn't stir from her sleep in the Crown's bed.
Good. She deserved the extra rest.
Now, normally you would have your attendants come in. Perhaps share a small meal and drink with your sorcerer and protector before the day's work began, but it was thankfully a slow morning today.
A morning for the two of you to rest, at least until the afternoon came knocking.
Regardless, a Crown still needed to keep appearances.
Applying your makeup in the order your attendants have done for years took little effort on your part, though the gold still took a little more time to apply than normal.
Leaning away from the desk, you took a look in the mirror.
Hmm...not bad, not bad at all.
Now for the final touches.
Turning your attention to your table, you browsed through all the jars and bottles before settling on one particular one that caught your eye and applying it.
A little lip balm, scented with rose and pigmented with crushed precious gemstones- leaving a soft and gentle glimmer that always did work well under the light of the throne.
"You look beautiful," a smooth voice drawled from behind, a familiar voice akin to a lazy river making its way to the sea.
To you in this case.
"Oh, did I wake you, your Highness?" you teased, hiding your surprise and eying your Royal Protector from the convenience of your mirror- hearing the pops and cracks of her joints as she stretched out her limbs before immediately shrinking back into a comfortable position nestled in your pillows.
A small hum.
"Oh I've been awake for a while," She admitted with a dismissive wave of her hand at both the question and the nickname, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Where have your attendants gone this morning?"
Raising from your seat in front of the mirror, you made your way over to the bed- unceremoniously plopping down into Ashti's awaiting arms, "I let them take the morning off, I'm afraid... so it'll just be you and me this morning."
"Just the two of us?" Ashti repeated, the question alone bringing the ever-present guards to the forefront of your mind.
Right.
Just the nine of you then.
"Either way, I wish to make the most of this free time," You decided, turning so that you were more comfortable in Ashti's embrace, your shoulders pressing together- hazel eyes following your every move with a mix of interest and amusement.
Turning to face you, the royal protector tightened the grip their arm had around your waist. Ashti giving you an uncharacteristically chaste kiss before pulling away- enjoying the whine dying in your throat at the sudden loss of touch.
"Your whole day isn't completely free," She gently reminded, a small irritation growing in your gut at the thought of having lunch with a few of your Ministers later.
And with the bright sun rising by the minute... it appears that there wasn't that much time for the two of you to relax.
How unfortunate.
A small huff from you earned yourself a smile from Ashti in turn, feeling them loosen their hold on you allowed you to settle your head back against the pillows- golden eyes boring into the ceiling above in thought.
Ashti still had to go and arrange the last-minute security details before lunch too.
Joy. Even less time to spend together.
But what should the two of you actually do?
"What's on your mind?" your protector asked, leaning on their elbow as they hovered over you, the sunlight bringing out the traces of shimmer you had left on their lips.
Hmm...
An idea in your mind began to take root.
"Say, Ashti, are you fond of games?"
"It depends," Ashti murmured, eyes narrowing a bit at you and the mischievous look you failed to hide from them. "What kind of game?"
Putting a mask of boredom on your face, you averted eye contact and feigned contemplation. "Less of a game, I suppose, and more of a challenge."
A challenge?
Well, now you certainly have Ashti's attention now.
Using their nature against them, you propped yourself up onto your side- Ashti mirroring the move so you faced each other.
"Tell me more about this challenge." your royal protector grinned, their eyes shining at the chance to one-up someone.
Even you.
Void, maybe especially you.
"You have an impressive amount of self-control." You admit.
A hook.
"I'd certainly like to believe so."
"Though... perhaps not enough for this challenge."
Line.
Ashti huffed slightly, clearly invested in whatever game you had concocted for them and willing to play along with the obvious trap you were setting. "I don't suppose you plan on teasing me all morning, do you? Tell me what I'm to do. for this challenge of yours."
"Stand still."
Sinker.
"Truly," The Royal Protector raised an eyebrow at the challenge brought before her. "Is that all?"
"It sounds easy," you admit, getting on your knees above Ashti and pressing a hand to your lover's chest- a gentle push guiding her back up against the board of your shared bed. "But I assure you it is anything but."
Her smirk made butterflies of your stomach, Ashti following along with your guidance obediently. It seems as if she'd play this game of yours... for now.
"Do you plan on doing something improper to me, my Crown?" Their gaze was intense- voice low and teasing, a small bite of hunger behind their eyes. And while the notion was indeed tempting, you had other plans in mind.
"Nothing too untoward, I assure you, now, remember-" you started, hips straddling Ashti as all four of your limbs caged her in; hands on either side of her- palms pressed flat against the wall.
"No moving," Ashti solemnly repeated, their eyes fixated on your golden ones as you moved in slowly.
So. Agonizingly slowly.
Just to press a kiss on Ashti's temple.
The touch itself seemed to melt away at the tension in your protector, the bodyguard clearly having expected something a little more intense.
"If you wished to kiss me, you need only ask."
Hushing her, you move to another spot- evenly spacing out each and every kiss till you were satisfied. Each time you'd pull away, hazel eyes met your own, Ashti's face simmering in heat under your treatment. Her expression wanting for more than to hide from the embarrassment she was feeling.
Still, she kept to the rules, keeping as still as a statue while you moved to each of her cheeks.
One.
Two.
Now, her nose. You also couldn't dare forget the space between her eyebrows nor the areas just underneath those beautiful eyes of hers.
Pulling back to admire your progress almost made you regret choosing this colored lip balm.
If only it was gold, then perhaps you could have seen what Ashti would have looked like if she was the Crown.
"Are you doing alright?" you ask, wanting to make sure that your lover was comfortable first and foremost and that she was fine continuing second.
Ashti's head twitched, clearly tempted to nod in response but then remembering the rules. Taking in a slow breath, the Royal Protector spoke with a clear, calm tone. "Naturally."
That brought a smile to your face, bringing yourself closer to Ashti to leave slow, drawn-out kisses on each corner of her lip before finally pressing your lips together.
A small hum in Ashti's throat was all the response you got, the Royal Protector probably figuring that kissing back would be in violation of the rules you had set.
Shame, really.
Leaving one last kiss on her chin, a wicked grin spread across your face as the real fun began.
Making a show of it, you purposefully brushed your cheek against Ashti's, leaving specks of sunlight on her as your lashes tickled the side of her face.
One kiss, right underneath her ear.
Still, she did not move.
You then turned to the other side, the sound of her heartbeat drumming against your ears.
Still, she did not move.
"You're nearly there," a small piece of encouragement- one small act of kindness for your bodyguard.
But then you turned back to the mission at hand.
Moving in at a snail's pace, you decided to be especially vigilant as you seared kiss after kiss down Ashti's neck, finding a spot against their shoulder to the rest the side of your face on.
You could see their raised eyebrow, the Royal Protector matching your gaze from the corner of their eye; lips, still glistening- parted ever so slightly.
Their resolve was shaking.
Good.
Coming in for one last blow against your protector, your lips grazed her collarbone- teeth brushing against smooth skin.
Ah. There it was.
A single shudder was all it took for you to win the game.
Mercilessly leaving Ashti without a parting kiss on her collarbone, you opted to instead take a seat on her hips, admiring your work.
She sparkled like the ocean's edge- every wave of the curtains, every beam of light shattering into a million pieces across her features.
What a sight to behold.
"Are you done basking in your victory?" Ashti laughed, a little lightheaded after the intimate encounter, and above all else- thankful that she wasn't the only one affected by this challenge of yours.
Reaching for the edge of your desk, your fingertips snatched up a small cloth- touching up the edges of your lips where your makeup undoubtedly smudged itself.
"Nowhere near done," You admitted, "but I really ought to get off of you before we truly engage in something untoward."
Moving off of your lover, you move to adjust your clothes- mind wandering to the time. You really needed to get going now before Ashti fell behind on her duties.
The Royal Protector on the other hand, finally free from your binds took the cloth from your outstretched hand- cleaning themselves of the traces of your love, the markings of their challenge lost. The speed of their movements meant that the very same thought had crossed their mind as well.
"You-," their breath was even now, gaze finding great interest with your bookshelf across the room. "- may want to reapply."
You spare a glance at the mirror.
Oh. She was certainly right about that.
"We surely have some time left," You mutter as you turn your attention to the sun just out the window.
Seems like it.
Sliding off the bed in one fluid motion, you reached for the jar settled on your desk. "Might I ask for help, Ashti?"
Quick on their feet and having recovered from your little game with them, Ashti got off the bed as well- her face now clean of all markings. On instinct, they reached for the nightstand and looped her daggers and khopesh around their belt, trailing along to your side.
She was swift to settle back into her duties for the day.
Though certainly not enough to stop her from getting some revenge on you.
Purposefully tracing her fingertips across your bare knuckles- the Royal Protector carefully took the lip balm in hand. The lingering warmth from their touch giving you one final tease- one act of retribution as Ashti purred.
"Anything for you, my crown."
#A Tale of Crowns#azad/ashti#Spicy? not really though#Fluff#Drabble#gabinggabi#A is going to be a cat no matter what- they just exhibit cat-like behavior its a fact#IM IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AND I DIDNT REALIZE HOW LONG IT IS#Holy- I think i just got so excited to do the prompt#i didnt even intend for it to become this SPICy oh my#wow having now actually finished this I really just unleashed my sapphic energy out on this one...#atoc
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She can't see the landscape anymore / It's all painted in her grief
- Florence + the Machine, Landscape
My fanfic for the prompt, "drowning," from @ataleofcrowns. Mirrors the beginning of Chapter 6 (also, oh my God was that a Westworld reference) because I love reading and writing scenes like that. No ROs because I couldn't choose one while I was writing this. Also, a shout out to @thebakunawa!
Teaching a child to swim is a good idea, generally. Five-year-old Kevî had somehow refused to let go of Mother and nearly drowned; although a few attempts later, she had happily drifted downstream, and tried to dive to the riverbed, and Mother and Father had new reasons to worry.
They should not worry—Kevî is not five anymore. The never-ending currents thread through her, but she extends her limbs, finding that she can cut a path through the whirlpool. She sweeps up, up, towards the light of stars being swallowed by oceans.
Home is a thousand cuts and stains on child-flesh. Kevî splits her right palm against an unexpectedly sharp rock. She is now climbing, not swimming. She redoubles her grip and drags herself out of the water. Her left fingernails are soon packed with mud.
Onto muddy dry land she creeps, and crawls, and staggers to her feet. The earth smells like growing things. It used to extend into a plot of farmland, into the beginnings of a forest. Now it does for only several meters, until sloping back into the water. Her eyes widen at how it stretches towards the horizon, calm and wordless.
She finds herself smiling, a waterlogged smile, at her olive tree, the only tree on the island. She approaches and places a hand on the bark. She plays—she used to play in its shade.
Kevî turns around and pauses at the sight of the modest, wooden cottage before her. It is smaller than she remembers it; she does not remember that she was much smaller when she lived there. The flower garlands she strung together still hang in the windows. The lemon plant is only a sprout, a few inches tall. The vines have yet to cover the back wall. The wood is still a lighter, younger brown, not yet darkened with smoke and fire.
Home is a big, warm, wooden house. And she just knows that the crops are well on their way to ripening, if only she could see the farm. That in her bed, her blanket is still the fraying yellow one she was swaddled in. That at dinner, she still has the glazed plate, the one she dropped at seven years old. That Father is not yet so tolerant of her muddy hands and feet—that only changed after they fled home.
He would only ask if there was something she would not like to bring inside the house. Mother would simply tell her to rinse off the dirt. Kevî tries to wipe her hands, anxious to get inside. Still waterlogged, she steps forward. She just knows they are already inside, waiting for her, not liking that she is not yet with them. She should be. It’s not safe after dark.
She wonders if that was true only when she left home for the last time.
Home was a beautiful, humble cottage, and the farm next to it, filled with her willfulness and laughter, suffused with Mother’s and Father’s love and fear. Kevî takes another step, but her feet drag against heavy air.
She had once tried to reach the bottom of the river, imagined that she could walk and play down there. It had been one of the few times Mother—or was it Father?—really screamed. It will drown you!
Someone had dived in after her, yanked her back up, before she could get any deeper. Not that she could as a five-year-old.
They will call her name, tell her to come in, any moment. But she is still outside, and her feet are starting to lift, her body too light and buoyant.
She smells the smoke now. It is no longer the gentle stench from the wood they burned, but from torches and blades aimed at her, borne by men with masks instead of names. Trust no one, Father last said.
Home was not the smoke-blackened shell it was, overrun with masked men, when Mother and Father dragged her away at eight years old.
“Trust no one,” Father’s rasp echoes across the horizon. Her right palm is no longer split, only a long-forgotten scar. His blood trickles through her fingers.
Kevî opens her mouth and it is Mother screaming as she fell into the unknown. Bubbles rush out and water tears through her throat, her nose, drowning. It rips through her right cheek and melts through her flesh, burning. It rushes around her in a vicelike grip.
Only Mother had embraced her this painfully, the night her eyes were cursed. Only Father had held her this tightly, the night they fled their home.
She extends her limbs, trying to cut through the currents, to reach the bottom of the river. To save Father, to find Mother. To get back home. She is no longer five, and she is just as helpless.
Only Father had cradled her this warmly, whenever she would wake with dreams of fields and temples on fire. Only Mother had held her so securely, when she first taught Kevî to swim.
“Let go!” she had coaxed, a lifetime ago. Kevî had screeched and refused.
She cries out, heedless of the gash in her right cheek, and clings to the new pain that erupts in her chest. She is no longer five. She is no longer a child trying to hold onto her mother. She no longer has a mother and a father.
The water yanks her back up, before she can get any deeper.
Let go, it pleads.
But this pain, she wants to answer, is all I have left of them.
#drowning#dreams#atoc prompt#a tale of crowns#writing#if you haven't read A Tale of Crowns do it now you coward#just wanted to add that since i can't draw or paint this is the best i can do#also yeah i pretty much listened to Landscape on repeat while writing this#akin
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Crown Nihîla Cezîrî, 553, 21 Liberation - Coronation
"The high of...whatever the spirits had shown her had yet to wear off. Nihîla, despite her normally so fearless attitude, was anxious. Anxious beyond belief. The task ahead of her was bigger than she thought herself capable of managing. She'd done well so far, through sheer luck and the stupidity of nobility. Luck would only last her so long. And what then? What happens, the day the whole of Arsur depends on her, and she can't deliver? When they realize she's no more than another fraud, just better at faking it? She could already imagine Ashti's face, realizing Nihîla was no better than her father. That, Nihîla decided, would be the worst fate of all."
My hand slipped :P After playing @ataleofcrowns, and seeing the recent prompts...couldn't help myself! Unfortunately, I remembered too late that this probably isn't the traditional style of clothing in Arsur, but by that time I'd grown attached to this design and I was almost finished so...I just went with it. That one's on me.
Final time: 9 hours, 47 minutes + however long it took me
A version without the hair to better show the markings I came up with below the cut, I'll edit in a timelapse shortly, just couldn't figure out how to transfer it to my pc. I will be posting the above pic on the discord as well, hopefully with better quality :D
#art#a tale of crowns#a tale of crowns spoilers#atoc crown#atoc art#atoc spoilers#atoc prompt#atoc#atoc a#atoc mc#fan crown#atoc fanart#fanart#ibispaintx
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One of the mods of the Discord server, @sorcererrezan, came up with the great idea a while back to make a list of prompts related to Chapter Six, to give the fandom something to work with! So, as Chapter Six was being proofread, my beta readers and I came up with a fun set of prompts for you guys to play around with.
This prompt list challenge will be happening during the entire month of March! You can post your work whenever you like during this month and it will be reblogged to the game blog. Whether it be fanfic, fanart, edits - anything goes!
Without further ado, here’s the list!
1 word prompts
for the Crown; drowning
for Lady Naza; flowers
for Kham; honesty
for D; forgiveness
for X; facade
for A; trust
for R; pressure
1 sentence prompts
for the Crown; Like a star falling, you drop without a warning.
for Kham; "Such is the price to pay for stability."
for X; “We can make it anything you want it to be.”
for A; "Do you think you deserve that chance?"
for R; “They won’t lay a finger on you, not while I’m here.”
for D; “My duty to the empire, to you, must always come first.”
scenario prompt
Write one of your Crown's journal entries in-character. Subject matter is up to you! It can incorporate a prompt, or it can be about something completely different.
Remember to @ the game blog when posting your works, or tag it as ‘#atoc prompt’!
Have fun with the prompts, I can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with ❤️
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A Tale of Crowns: Records of the Crown by @tath-draws
A record by the scholar Erez Barzanî on the preferences and behaviors of the Twenty-First Crown of Arsur, Mirarî Shinâz.
While this crown comes from humble origins, and likely did not have the luxury of leisure, now xe have it, xe are often found reading in the gardens, particularly under a small hut. Xe have a fondness for gardening as well.
In the mornings xe rise early to catch the sunrise. Xe prefer a light savory breakfast, and a hearthy meal later in the day, and are adventurous in foods xe are willing to try. The food xe enjoy the most seems to be favorite kuki and kofta.
For xyr taste in clothing xe prefer dresses in shades of red and orange. And in adornment xe are heavy, preferring necklaces, earrings and chain headbands most of all. Xe tend to wear xyr hair in a braid, sometimes having xyr hair loose during the evenings. Xe seem to care for appearances and are often plain yet elegant.
In conversation xe are found charming. If you are close to xem, you can often smell xyr preferred light scent of perfume of jasmine. I imagine if one were to be able to have private audience with xem xe would speak and laugh easily. (I recall xe mentioned a fear of thunder.) And when idle, xe tend to bounce xyr leg and lightly scratching the scar on xyr's right cheek, one time xe unconsciously bounced xyr leg so much it shook the entire table. Generally, xyr expression is neutral, often mistaken as exhaustion due to the heavy shadows under xyr eyes. Xe also have a notable quirk of having xyr smile pulled to the left more.
Xe seem most accustomed to travel, and had developed a friendly relationship with xyr's old family horse, who is called rose. Xe seem interested in learning and honing xyr martial skills. In magic, xe are also interested, and show a predilection towards inner magic. When I asked xem, xe said xyr fondest memory of xyr parents was:
"I think it was the one time when we, my mother and I, successfully 'forced' my father to help us farm. He stood close enough around the garden while we pull out vegetables, and we'd playfully pull him in but it made him trip and fell face first on the soil. He didn't get angry, we all laughed so hard and played in the dirt. Vegetables forgotten."
Xe seem most fond of xyr companions, Lord Rêzan and Royal Protector Azad, and are quite warm to xyr serving staff. In the evenings when xe are not busy with the duties of the crown, xe can be found dining with friends/writing in their journal/studying geography/other leisure activity here. Xe tend to go to xyr bedchambers to sleep late. This crown appears to be a hard worker and a charmer. I look forward to further learning about xem and xyr reign to come.
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