Hello, and welcome back to “Athame’s Light,” by Legionary Prime! I’m your host, SC, joined by Spectre Myrai, and last time, Myrai’s ship exploded, which sucked, because now I have to bribe Bifocals to build her a new one – which DOES NOT run the risk of killing her horrifically, so that’s extra bribery right there – but meanwhile, we got to read the thrilling adventures of the Asari meeting pre-uplift humanity, fighting Batarians, and the birth of Asari!Shep, who is the direct result of an unholy union between Councilor Tevos and Dad!Shep. There’s also Cousin!Shep, who’s the daughter of Hannah!Shep, and apparently she’ll have a somewhat leading role in this fic alongside Asari!Shep, so that’s just swell. Then the author got bored of actually showing things and instead resorted to a timeline crawl up to the point of the Eden Prime mission.
Spectre Myrai: Can I interrupt you for a minute, and say that it worries me that you have to bribe your resident engineer to not do a shitty job?
Spectre Myrai: Why’re you laughing?
Bifocals isn’t an engineer.
Spectre Myrai: Then, what is she?
Very probably the reason that the Reapers exist.
Spectre Myrai: …You know what, I’ll just mail order a new ship from some sleazy Volus, at least all they demand are credits.
I’m actually shocked you had time to show up for this.
Spectre Myrai: I’m on standby until the Council is done sifting through the paperwork from my last mission, so I figured I’d swing by. Me, on the other hand, I’m surprised you invited me back, after what happened.
Why? I didn’t want the damn guns in the first place, that was a burden that was quite literally thrown into my arms. I don’t have a beef with you for it.
Spectre Myrai: Yeah, but your friend-
Contacts is not my friend. In fact, I’m pretty sure Contacts is nobody’s friend.
Spectre Myrai: I see.
In any event, I figured, since this fic has a lot to do with Asari, that it only made sense to let you sit in on the riff. Show of good faith and all that.
Spectre Myrai: Don’t these riffs have a tendency to go badly?
Yeah, but not always, some are just fun.
Spectre Myrai: So this isn’t a spite-driven thing?
Spectre Myrai: Well, what’s the fic?
*SC gestures to his computer screen*
The Asari encountered the Humans many years before the Turians did. This will drastically change the mass effect timeline, including one big one, Shepard is born an Asari as a result of a pairing between an Asari survivor and a famous Human War Hero. Join Athena T’Sarr/Shepard as she struggles to prove herself to both the Alliance, Asari and the galaxy as a whole
Spectre Myrai: …Are you really still that sore about the guns?
No, I told you, this isn’t me being spiteful.
Spectre Myrai: Then why-?
Because Contacts chose the fic. And he is spiteful.
SC’s Note: Any instance of gender pronouns being capitalized is not random, nor is it a grammatical error on my end. It’s actually fairly common, when discussing gods, to capitalize their respective pronouns as a show of reverence.
Also, friendly reminder, and text you see highlighted like this, mouse over to see the hidden text. Does not work on mobile.
Hello, and welcome back to the Library of the Damned! I’m your host, SC, still trying to get myself back to my old riffing self again, and as such, we have a new oneshot we’ll be tackling this week!
Well… I say oneshot, but it’s technically two chapters. Except that the first chapter is literally a paragraph long and serves only as a means of setting the scene for the rest of the fic, if the author ever cares to continue on with it (it was posted on the seventh and updated a day later, so there’s a high likelihood that it’ll update again after this riff), so it’s really not a “chapter” at all.
Also, I brought this idiot with me.
Yeah, I’m back to babysitting these dipshits again, and given that somebody thought it was cool to let them use military hardware (not naming names or anything, Minh’s cousin), I’ve now come to the conclusion that the next time I need to dump them off on somebody else, they’re going to Scarlet.
Scarlet, out in the hall: Don’t you place that evil upon me, sir!
At least you’ll make sure they behave!
Scarlet, out in the hall: Yes! By killing them! Repeatedly! I am a bad parenting figure, why don’t you understand this?!
Specs: Also, it’s kind of really rude of you to leave me to be “babysat” by the man who beheaded me at the height of my prime, not gonna lie.
SC’s Note: The acronym tag returns! Reminder, mouse over any text you see like this to see the hidden message, unless you’re on mobile, as the tag doesn’t work in that format.
I’M NOT DEAD!
Scarlet: It’s a riff, friend, not the Resurrection of Christ. Pull back on the reins a bit.
…Fine. Fuck you, ruining my fun like that.
Scarlet: Someone has to keep you honest.
Anyhow, to refresh the memories of anybody who might have forgotten: I took a hiatus. I made a post about it when I did. The terms of my hiatus were simply that I was out, indefinitely, until such time as I felt like I was ready to come back. Recently, I’ve been starting to feel like riffing again, so I’m easing myself back into the swing of things with a short riff here and there, as the mood takes me.
With that in mind, we come to the fic: “Through the Darkness,” by author Arisenlicious, a one thousand-some-such-word fic from the Dragon’s Dogma side of fanfiction.net.
How to Not End Up in the Library: On Self-Insert and Power Fantasies, the Common Pitfalls of FanfictionPosted: June 8, 2019
Howdy, folks! Been a little while, hasn’t it? No, I’m not quite “back” yet – I’m mostly just working on oneshots right now to try and get myself back into the spirit of riffing – but I am coming out of the woodwork for a brief moment.
Hey, you know what we haven’t done in a while? One of these. You know what topics we haven’t covered yet, but have become relevant as of late? Self-Insert fics.
“But, SC! You’re covering two topics!”
Yep, the title gives that away. The power fantasy, a.k.a. claiming to have invincibility armor during a game of tag which means that you aren’t “it.” (Yeah, come here, we’ll see how “invincible” that armor is once I’m done knocking your ass out, you little cheatin’ shit…) As I’ll be demonstrating in a moment here, it’s pretty necessary that I go over both of these, as the two are somewhat connected to one another.
Hello, and welcome back to “FNG,” by Richie23! I’m your host, SC, joined by myself, and there was really no good reason that it took me this damn long to update the riff. In fact, I procrastinated so hard on this that I’ve completely forgotten where we ended off last time.
Operative SC: Something about an airport?
I’ll probably look at the previous posts later and feel dumb for forgetting, but for right now, I’m just gonna assume it’s not important and forge ahead.
Operative SC: The SC Method: “Uh, shit, well, let’s just go with it and hope for the best.”
Works like a charm.
Operative SC: Except when it doesn’t.
Which is frequently.
~TRIGGER WARNING: BORDERLINE PEDOPHILIA IN NARRATION~
*Shades sits in the riffing chamber in utter silence; the lights are on, the computer hums softly, but in an unusual twist for the Library, nothing of importance, or even silliness, appears to be happening*
Shades: …Hm? Oh, I’m just waiting. I was told that I had a surprise coming. It’s been… about six hours now, so I’m a little bit worried that I’ve been led on. That, or bloody Bifocals is busy making some horrible new device to kill me with under the pretense of it being a gift. But, fuck it, it’s Christmas, or it will be in three days, so-
*SC, dressed in an ill-fitting Santa costume, bursts through the door and hurls an overly large, bulging red velvet bag at Shades, before quickly slamming the door and locking several hundred varieties of lock, including a solid steel bar through the handles*
Shades: Bloody hell!
Open the bag, you’re welcome for the present, this was all Contacts’ fault.
Shades: I don’t want to open the fucking bag! You said Contacts! And you’re barring the door! That always means bad things!
Look, you little shit, I may or may not be accessory to one of the worst-planned heists in the history of mankind, and for all I know, a platoon of Asari soldiers could be on their way in force as we speak. Apparently, this is Contacts’ Christmas gift to you, so open the fucking bag so that I can dispose of the evidence, tell Contacts you got your present, get General Skullfucker and her Merry Band of Commandos off my ass, and never speak of this day again!
Shades: How did you get wrapped up in a heist?!
OPEN THE GOD DAMNED BAG!
*Shades undoes the knot in the rope tied around the bag and dumps out dozens upon dozens of military-grade firearms – notably, these firearms appear to be of sleek, though alien, design*
Shades: …What was the heist?
Contacts broke into a major weapons distributor on Thessia.
He heard you say that you thought Asari firearms looked neat.
Shades: How did you get involved?
He threw the bag at me while looking for a hiding spot.
Shades: I mean, I’m flattered, but we’re going to have to fake our deaths and change our names.