atlasarcana

[atlasarcana]

raring up to start publishing echo bren again in april btw :) at least the next installation, i'm working on it bits at a time!

#shadowgast #shadowgast fic #cr2

[atlasarcana]

Cryptic visions of space and time...

#HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM #cr2

[atlasarcana]

Happy Birthday, Aeor is For Reccing!

One year ago today (give or take a couple hours), we published our first rec list. To celebrate, I (Opera) have prepared some stats. A little bit like a reccing wrapped, only with a smaller budget and being less creepy about your data.

But thank you to everyone who has recced, every one who has read the reclist, everyone who has reblogged, everyone who has kudosed, to @professor-rye and @theusualjasper, and everyone who helped along the way.

I'm glad we've gotten this far!

To start: We've had 685 recs, 478 fics, 210 Authors, 53 reclists and 43 themes.

Most Recced Authors: (1) Mousecookie - 25 recs (1) royalgreen - 25 recs (3) SaltCore - 21 recs (4) hanap - 15 recs (5) kmackatie - 14 recs (5) Chrome - 14 recs (5) Firefright - 14 recs (8) Mlle Kurtz - 12 recs (9) road_rhythm - 11 recs (9) MinnesotaBruja - 11 recs (9) LuckyOwlsFoot - 11 recs (9) MarsBar2019 - 11recs

Authors with the most fics recced: (1) royalgreen - 18 fics (2) SaltCore - 13 fics (2) hanap - 13 fics (4) Mousecookie - 12 fics (5) kmackatie - 10 fics (5) LuckyOwlsFoot - 10 fics (7) Firefright - 9 fics (7) Jakia - 9 fics (9) Professor_Rye - 8 fics (9) Mlle Kurtz - 8 fics

Fics recced the highest number of times: Hard Mouth and The Hole in the Stone, both recced 8 times Fic recced the most number of times for a single theme: In the Closet of Our Discretion, by Firefright for Cultural Differences (recced 4 times) Longest fic recced: Dappled Shadow and Penumbral Light by Professor_Rye (463,977) Shortest fic recced: Of Constellations and Freckles, also by Professor_Rye (100 words) First fic Recced:  Stay for a Spell by Palebluedot Latest fic Recced: Uncharted Waters by EmpressofWizards

Word Cloud based on what people like about the fics:

Most common content note: Choose Not To Warn Number of Series recced: 16 Percentage of Hidden Gems that are No Longer eligible (have over 150 kudos):  48% (check them out!) Number of Images Rai has Used: 27

So what's next?

Well, the absolute next thing is that sometime this week I'm going to post the reccing spreadsheet for everyone to see - if people want to look through old recs, they should feel free to! Then there's the ideas I had from the survey a few months ago - chief among them was making it easier to import information from AO3 (you'd still be able to rec fics that can't be imported or on tumblr, I'm just trying to remove some of the hassle) I'm still doing research on the best way to make that happen, and kind of selfishly want to do it myself - but it's been a busy couple of months for me.

Speaking of which - I'm having surgery in a month! A double masectomy and reconstruction on February 19 (roughly equivalent to top surgery (masculinizing)) and February 20th (roughly equivalent to top surgery (femininzing- fat grafting)). Kind of like they're turning my chest on and off again - a ctrl-alt-deteat, if you will. Anyway, I don't want cancer, but everyone I've talked to about this has said the stomach incision is worse than the chest incision, and nobody's ever described top surgery as a walk in the park. I'm planning on doing absolutely nothing for six weeks, and @theusualjasper will be taking over during that time.

Anyway, here's to another year! Thanks to everyone who has participated or helped along the way, you're all great. Even you <3

#cr2 #shadowgast

[atlasarcana]

echo bren, act 2 fic 1 snippet (since it's been a while!)

Sydenstar 3, 839 P.D.

He arrives in Ank’harel a few days prior to the ceremony, thinking himself a good student for taking the time to scout. He gets a towel and an empty glass in his hands as a reward.

Bartender work. Well — there’s nothing wrong with scouting in disguise, in fairness. And it is a quick way to learn the clientèle. To overhear conversation and catch words where they escape secrets. More than anything, to make notes.

He spends three days bored out of his mind wiping down the wet bar of a long and golden casino room. He takes orders, he compliments the early-arriving guests. Technically on duty as Volstrucker (though when the duty ever ends is beyond him), he marks easy targets for cornering and conversation. A noblewoman here and there touches his collar too closely, champagne too heavy on her breath, and he takes her to the back room to see the estate wines, of course, and peeks into her mind — only a gentle folding back of paper, not a terrible knife-intrusion — and pockets the rumors and the drivel for himself before spinning her back out to the main bar without a break in charisma.

Twice he escorts a drunk out of the bathrooms. Thrice he rips down Missing posters nailed up in search of some halfling boy.

They smoke a great deal here in Ank’harel. That was the one thing he wasn’t expecting. On a mandated smoke break — a perk he ought to campaign to Ikithon — he steps out onto the great big flat white patios overlooking the great big flat fucking lake of a pool in between the buildings on either side of the property, and gets struck with the thought of diving in from the third storey. Which would be silly, and maybe suicidal, and he does not trust himself to know the difference. The white sun is a ball of eternity in the radioactive blue sky, and every shadow it casts grows long and crisp against all the other pale clay surfaces in a way that reminds him distinctly of ink on parchment. Out here on this patio, a hundred feet from the ground with layers of sandstone between himself and anything that makes a sound, he suddenly feels suffocatingly alone. The property is smack in the center of the Sand-Herald district, which is where all the money and noise is, and yet the two palaces of the resort are such tall, bright, architectural knives that the thousands of civilians beneath him are more like ants than anything. He could shut his eyes and only hear the birds and the breathing swell of the city. The slow, industrial chugging. A far-off clang. A distant splash as someone falls unceremoniously from the diving board.

Days like this made the rest tolerable. But days like this would end. And he would wake up somewhere new again, with another sin tallied under his name somewhere by an accountant in the Nine Hells.

He’s lost in thought for a while until a seagull lands by his feet. Quite a bit out from any ocean here, friend. Though, upon closer inspection, it isn’t a seagull — it’s just a white desert pigeon. Pretty little thing. And clearly, Nicodranas is still in his head if he first went to seagulls. He doesn’t fault himself for it; he doesn’t remember the last time he had so much vacation sex. Or a vacation at all.

Bren stares at the pigeon. He inches closer. He stoops.

On a whim, he uses the hand that isn’t holding a cigarillo to swish Sending into the air.

“Beloved,” he says, staring straight at the bird. “My goodest and greatest and sweetest friend.” He pauses. “Food. Ank’harel. Recommendations?”

He knows what he gives with this information. It is possibly the most treasonous thing he has done in years, and in as little as a word. But he cannot find himself to care.

The bird cocks his head at him. For a long moment, the spell doesn’t seem to take.

Then, the receiver picks up the line: Essek’s voice spins in his head.

Ank’harel… says the Shadowhand, very slowly and direly, as though still digesting his morning evil on the other side of the world.

The bird twitches its head this way and that. Essek’s voice could be speaking through it if Bren tried to overlap them in his mind. He experiments with the idea, squinting.

Well. Anything but a kurrak fruit, says Essek.

Essek-Birdy moves its head in a way that could look offended, and, oh, yes. It is quite funny.

They say it tastes like mango.

Liars. Curs. More like rotten eggs.

Avoid. At all costs.

Essek-Birdy pap-paps its feet on the ground. Pecks at Bren’s boot, thinking it a big brown worm. At the illusory-to-physical difference between a bartender’s boot and a Volstrucker’s boot, the bird spasms with perplexity. Then it flies away.

No kurrak fruits. Well, alright. At least that was one insider fact he hadn’t wormed out by sleeping with the Essek of another timeline. Bren puffs his cigarillo and throws it into the midden by the door.

He’d normally throw it over the side of the building, but he fears the bird picking at it later. He goes inside.

#shadowgast #shadowgast fic #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #fic: echo bren #critical role

[atlasarcana]

Have some extra time? Want to dive into something deep, or maybe stay up until 5am reading shadowgast fanfiction? Well, this week, we've got thirteen series for you! Check them out underneath the cut, and please comment and kudos if you liked them!

Clock Hands by royalgreen (62504, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Alternate take on canon where Essek and Caleb start a relationship, leading into an alternate Rumblecusp arc

Reccer says: Great pining, sweet fluffy bois, fantastic worldbuilding, and a mystery

Touching Sentiments by Chanse (SpottedEnchants) (239244, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This slice-of-life, interconnected collection of premises explores, among many things, the concept of Essek as both touch-averse and touch-starved, and how this might affect his relationships with the Mighty Nein.

Reccer says: I love how the author handles Essek's conflicting needs, and his relationship with all of the Nein (especially Caleb). It's so soft.

Wild Magic Surges by literalfuckinggarbage (10385, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Character studies of each wizard turning into a child version of themself through a wild magic surge in Aeor.

Reccer says: They are so sweet and precious as children! And all of the Nein’s voices are perfect

Among the Tattered Ruins by Cardinal_Daughter (33320, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Post canon getting together in Aeor, being domestic/sexy in Caleb’s house and meeting family.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Essek Thelyss' Lingerie Collection by CircaTheKnowledgeable (19490, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek Thelyss is given his first set of lingerie and finds a confidence in it that he has not had in a long time. Caleb loves it too.

Reccer says: Hot!

Shadowgast Omegaverse by firefright (54283, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Omegaverse

alpha!Caleb and omega!Essek fall into a relationship right before the peace talks. This explores that and continues on

Reccer says: It's always wonderful to find a good a/b/o series, and this fits that beautifully

Catch A Falling Star (Critical Role) by RainyDayDecaf (32921, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Graphic Depictions of Violence

The Mighty Nein find more than a Beacon in the sewers of Zadash. They also find a drow wizard and prisoner of war.

Reccer says: Mostly pre-relationship, the slow build is lovely! Heart wrenching at times and amusing at others.

birds of prey by TheKnittingJedi (102785, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

A Scourger!Bren AU that has Bren and Essek playing cat-and-mouse in political intrigue, spy games, and increasingly complicated emotions

Reccer says: I liked it!

the tusk love cinematic universe by kaeda (168202, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

While in Aeor, Essek and Caleb are transported to what seems to be the world of Tusk Love.

Reccer says: Kaeda is able to take such a crack premise and make it deeply compelling and heartwarming

reflections and other illusions of control by atlasarcana (84220, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek and Caleb have bedroom issues and summon an echo. The Echo is from a timeline where Bren remained a Volstrucker. They make things work.

Reccer says: This fic series focuses on relationship dynamics, intimacy, repression, and vulnerability. Caleb's journey into accepting a Dom role has to do with healing from a lot of trauma, and it's wonderful watching him be taught by Bren, who inadvertently is also healing from trauma by doing so. Plus, there's cross-timeline matchmaking for Bren and his own timeline's evil Shadowhand.

Aeor is for Lovers: Prompt Fills by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude (17979, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb in Aeor, their relationship developing over a series of whumpy incidents

Reccer says: For a whump based series, it's surprisingly soft and sweet

Ages Past Ages Hence Cinematic Universe by Athenavine (30355, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Slice of life romance fics that capture the fulness of the love blooming between two wizards in exandria

Reccer says: athenavine really captures the characters voices, and the pace the romance moves at is just delicious. the descriptions are visceral and immersive and the fic updates very reliably and regularly. the series is emotionally compelling and spicy and exciting and it takes place over a span of time that feels like i really get a peek into all the important moments between my two favorite exandrian wizards. 10/10, will scream for anybody to read it, highly reccommend

And then we have two recs for this last one!

Field On Fire (Not the Actual Events) by Defiler_Wyrm (60535, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes, Contains a couple of monsterfucking scenes, but it’s still Shadowgast

From the depths of Aeor to a peace beyond, Caleb and Essek come together and explore their relationship—and each other—thoroughly.

Reccer 1 says: I’m entirely biased, but I like the balance of fluff and smut with a bit of humor and a pinch of angst, and how no two sex scenes are truly the same. Reccer 2 says: Top quality smut, Essek being competent as hell, Caleb being super slutty, I love all of it

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Sports/Athletes AUs! Let's make the noodly wizards move!

#cr2 #shadowgast

[atlasarcana]

some sort of angel

[atlasarcana]

i bound a fic! Destructive interference was written by the lovely @atlasarcana

this took about 4-5 days of on and off working and as far as first times go, i think this turned out preety coool

#cr2 #shadowgast #ISN'T THAT FUCKING CRAZY!!!!!!!!!! #OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!! #THANK YOU MIN!!!!!!!!!

[atlasarcana]

i've gotten in the bad habit of accidentally writing 12k of porn i can't publish

#text post #pray for me

[atlasarcana]

old memes about destructive interference that i saved to my phone

#shadowgast fic #shadowgast #fic: destructive interference

[atlasarcana]

snippet from the beginning of chapter 1 of blue waltz, the next installment in the echo bren fic series. it's taking forever for me to get back to working on it, so here's a little shadowhand essek vignette to tide you over. love u! thank u for reading!

...

Shadowhand Essek Thelyss moves through the world like an oil spill moves on the ocean. Which is to say: imiscibly.

Rooms are dark when he glides into them. They light up slowly on days where they forget to anticipate his silence. Otherwise, they’re very quick about it.

Flash on. Welcome, welcome. We are so terribly sorry.

That’s all his life is. Gliding into rooms. Signing papers until his fingers bleed; until the pen runs out of ink right as he’s finishing up, and he stabs his inner lip with the nib to keep from wasting even one more second on some drivel.

Frightened people flutter around him all day, and all day he sits and works and slides in and out of smoke, teleporting between buildings, operating in jet-black shadows of secrecy. Diving under and surfacing, diving under, breaking the water, over and over; a deep-sea leviathan, a glossy and frictionless serpent, a thing with no body and eyes like hard amethysts in a vacuum as he swallows everything.

He works only for that essential everything. He works for the freedom shining at the end of this: flashing white like a bird, glowing and glorious and liberating in even the thought of it. He works until he falls asleep trancing, which should be biologically impossible. He works until he’s sick of it, and purges that sickness with another day shoved like a pill down his gullet.

Sometimes the day gifts him the great medicine of patience, taking him down to a honed-in beam of focus. Sometimes he takes the day and strangles it until it stops breathing. The day takes many forms, and some of them he can kill, but some are unkillable.

Welcome, welcome.

Black rooms. Black rooms become gray in shadow, become white in the quartz-beams of light they frantically flash on in his presence. We are so terribly sorry, Shadowhand.

We didn’t hear you.

You do not make any noise.

He touches not a thing with his feet, but he holds everything in his hands.

He must believe that he does. Else he will go mad.

Black rooms become white. Eyes swivel in their sockets at him, dozens of eyes, hundreds of eyes. Always whispers, and always the sound of a chair squeaking shrilly, of a woman’s snatch of a laugh stopping short as soon as she realizes just who has entered the room.

He is the only politician in the court of the Bright Queen who has recognized the need for illumination. They keep the rooms dark when it conveniences them. Too many share the sensitivity for it, that they forget when some do not.

That is the excuse. Too many drow, too many dark-dwellers; what does it matter that the rest cannot see?

No, it is not that the courts are inconsiderate. The darkness obscures. Too many meetings he has soundlessly floated in on, only to watch the scramble, the scattering, the fumble of voices shushing and realizing their company.

The serpent dives into the black. Into slick and soluble night, into whispers and dreams of war. He holds possibilities in one hand and secrets in the other. He shines, he glides, he glistens. He never shuts his eyes to the carnage.

Turn the lights on, he says. Let us see what you are hiding. But they only ever speak in apologies.

Terribly sorry, Shadowhand.

You do not make any noise.

#shadowgast #shadowgast fic #essek thelyss #critical role fic #text

[atlasarcana]

#seeing andor being tagged in a post gushing about my fic #because seeing people's positive comments about it without the expectation that i'll see it.... #idk it just feels more exciting bc it's not said to my face

[atlasarcana]

here’s a snippet! it’s a test-drive for the epistolary “interview” style of a shadowgast pop star au inspired by daisy jones & the six, hozier, prince, the corruption of the western music industry, so on and so forth. this may or may not be included in the actual fic!

ESSEK: The problem with the Empire understanding of the Dynastic music industry has less to do with personal prejudice and more to do with propaganda.

TRENT: I don’t believe that propaganda has much to do with it. Honestly, it has to do with the belief that rural and local fans in the Empire maintain about Dynastic standards of excellence. Which are based in fact.              It is an objective truth that the Dynasty has the most rigorous education and extracurricular programs on Wildemount. It is inarguable that music tutors originating from the Dynasty are the most sought-after in the world. Is it prejudiced to become wary about the promise of “equality” in the treatment of performing artists, when there’s such an obvious privilege afforded to those from select regions?             I think it’s perfectly rational to speculate that there are injustices going on. Non-elf races have to puddle around in their hundred-odd years of life to make something of themselves, while the hundreds of thousands of dark elves on the other side of the mountain range have been perfecting one style of lute-playing for the past 700 years. It’s hardly fair.

CALEB: Whoever said that humanoids could never catch up to the elves is a fool. Rigor has nothing to do with a spark. Rigor can polish, can curate a spark. But it cannot invent one. The desire to learn music can be found in everyone, but the desire to consume it, to reimagine it and distort it and create anew with it — that is a phenomenon afforded to the great few.               And I believe, as many in the disenfranchised parts of Empire do, that this sort of spark requires some stressor to ignite it. After all, you cannot create fire without friction or chemical reaction. You cannot have the light of great art without an input of peril. Humans and humanoids have been called ‘matchsticks’ before — but it is this very threat of burning out that ignites such passion and tenacity.

ESSEK: Of course there are benefits to being an elf. The time scale affords more practice. The culture of rigor in the Dynasty in particular lends to extremely high standards of excellence, as many say — that is true. Though I resent to believe that privilege has anything to do with to whom the award goes to at the end of the night. The only thing the judges need to concern themselves with is discrimination, and if the skill is consistently coming from one nation or the other… Well, there’s only way to go about it. 

INTERVIEWER: Which is? 

ESSEK: The objective way. Award whoever deserves the award, no matter from where. That’s skill, that’s rigor, that’s practice. Talent is a construct used to distribute the feeling of effortless success, but there’s no success without effort. I should know.

INTERVIEWER: Sure. But what about the point that Ikithon made?

ESSEK: [He chuckles.] What point?

#shadowgast #shadowgast fic #text post

[atlasarcana]

I know sometimes it makes folks nervous, so…

I promise we love and appreciate you and your enthusiasm and it’s not weird or creepy at all 😭😭😭💕💕💕

[atlasarcana]

i have 3 shadowgast wips right now and one of them is echo bren which i am clawing my way back to (because i got burnt out after writing a super complicated espionage section, long story short) and i am so excited for another super special wip you guys arent even fucking prepared for

#shadowgast #text

[atlasarcana]

someone: hey I noticed this thing you did in your writing!

me, kicking my feet up flirtatiously: oh??? do you want to hear my thoughts on why I did that? do you want a play-by-play of the language choices in every related sentence? do you want an exhaustive breakdown of The Themes???

[atlasarcana]

Okay but on the other hand, maybe Caleb should take Ludinus's job. Obviously Trent's job on the Assembly was a trap, because it would've meant being under Ludinus's thumb, but the head role? Archmage of Domestic Protections? He could teach when he wanted to, do research when he didn't, take sabbatical to fuck off to a foreign archive for a year just for kicks, and he gets the added bonus of being able to coerce and threaten a bunch of wayward mages to his heart's content. Maybe once in a while he has to worry about whatever problem the monarchy has with the Dynasty, but for the most part no one on Wildemount WANTS war, so that's so rare that it barely registers.

Dwendal has no capacity for oversight and Caleb's just obsessive enough to want some sway when it comes time for working out that succession in the next decade or two, and the rest of the time he just... does whatever he wants. Astrid would probably help him get the job. It's perfect.

#ref

[atlasarcana]

james bond having lakeside conversations at 3am with men he's going to have to kill at 4am about realizing he might like guys sometimes: is it true ... is it true that this love is what maims you in the end? does it transform you? have i been this thing -- this toxic sludge to people, to women, to myself, all because of this love? i wish i could change the lens. break open the camera. get it back to normal. how did you do it? ...... how does anyone do it? ...... 

meanwhile, ethan, hanging off the side of the golden gate bridge by a fishing wire: benji. did you ever like .... get feelings about guys before you knew you were gay  

benji, 3 miles away in a pride-themed starbucks: do you think being gay is like a light switch, ethan. do you think i woke up and started imagining balls

#james bond #mission: impossible #text