Amusing fanfiction quotes


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I notice it every time you, and anyone else does it.

I just havent bothered to comment until now.


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ragnarok1337 said:
From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>The Accidental Sensei.</a>

Naruto snorted, and somehow managed to speak clearly through a mouthful of noodles. "Sakura isn't at peace with her inner pervert yet."


"OI! I'm not a pervert!" Sakura protested.

She looked around, suddenly noticing that Ichiraku Teuchi, his daughter Ayame, her sensei, her teammates, and several people passing on the street were looking at her.

Anko looked around as well.

"She hasn't accepted everyone in town is a pervert, yet," she explained, a note of pity in her voice.

There were nods and murmurs of understanding as folks went about their business.

Sakura blushed and gained a deep interest in her noodles.
Anko! Genin! My daughter-in-law Miku, my son Kouhei," Shouhei paused and sighed, then shouted, "my escape plan number 87!"

And Shouhei dropped a smoke pellet and cackled madly.

When it cleared, Saki was standing in that space alone with a chocolate bar in one hand and an iced milk tea in the other. Chihiro held darker chocolate and a sake bottle.

"I love how step five always involves bribery," the little girl noted, munching happily.

"Don't you just," Chihiro agreed, sipping from the small bottle.
Bribery is the best.
Okay, this is a complete mess. I've been trying to find all the parts of that story for the last two hours without success. many chunk of it is there scattered all over the net ?

The link you provided only cover the first two chapters, which don't even contain the quotes you put up, the beta archive the author provide a link to start at chapter 5 as far as I can tell and even digging through that complete unintuitive mess of a Yahoo Group that is CaerAzkabam, I still can't find chapter 3.

Or maybe it's chapter 3 of the sequel or something, I have no idea because Yahoo Groups make archiving a goddamn pain in the fucking ass ! God, I hate those groups, the search engine suck and it take hours just to find one stupid snippets if you even find anything at all. :headbanger:


Could you, please, provide an index or something ? Anything, please ? :rant:
For whatever reason, the author took down chapters 3 and 4. I think it's being rewritten. Yeah, it seemed to happen just after I finished the 4th chapter. Sucks to be you.


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Dark Space. The void between galaxies. The only light in this small patch of the void are the blue lights which run the length and breadth of their forms, the blue and red lightning which travels the lengths of their consciousnesses, and the golden lights of his eyes.

He is the Resplendent Harbinger of Ascension. Oldest and wisest of them, their leader in absentia of their creator. He is the One who sits above the Many. But He is only the one.

He is not the many.

Nazara has been destroyed. Our vanguard has been lost. We must seize the initiative and attack now, before the Cycle is broken.

Blue lights before Him, the eyes and lights of many of the great Mechanism. One of them, long opposed and antagonistic to Him, uncoils his tentacles and twitches his optics at the others flanking him.

"Harbinger," the Reaper, Venerated Harmonious Rejoinder, says, "How are you aware of this? What could possibly have destroyed one of our own? The organics can not possibly have created something that could destroy one as resourceful and powerful as Nazara."

I have seen it through the memory downloads of Nazara. Shepard will find a way to break the Cycle unless we stop her.

Perfect Blossom of Bridging, to the left of Rejoinder, rolls the eight blue optic ports.

"Ah, yes," Rejoinder says, twitching the two tendrils closest to his face, "'Shepard'. The supposed time traveling organic who has destroyed several Destroyer-class Reapers, one of whom she did on foot with a single gun. We have dismissed this claim."

And with that, the lights fade on Rejoinder, Blossom, and the other Reapers as they resume their millennial slumber. Harbinger sighs, turning back to the galaxy. He'll have to think of something.
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From the fanfic Harry Potter and the Invincible Technomage, mocking the hell out of the sorting song dozens of authors try to remake into something "original."

"In every fic with a sorting scene,
The Author includes a song.
With prose abused cruel and mean,
And they go on much too long.
The smart ones just include
The hat's libretto from the canon.
The others, well they're just rude,
And quite abusive to the fanon.
For this fic, let's just assume
The hat was verbose and quite witty.
Because my poetry will clear a room,
It really is that shitty.
For you purists who need the fic to have a sorting song,
And lacking the same would drive you to try to pick a bone.
I would suggest you should please yourself and surely do no wrong,
If you were to reread the verse from the book about the stone."


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I am broken from my thoughts by Sakura and Ino suddenly flouncing up to our group from across the playground. Behind them, a whole crowd of other equally disappointed-looking Sasuke fangirls are dispersing across the field in a distinctly frustrated manner. "What's up, guys? Did you find Sasuke?" I ask as they sit down beside us.

"No," Ino sighs sharply. "That's the problem. We fangirls, as a club, have decided that this tactic for discovering where the subject eats is bearing no results." I have a sudden image of Sasuke splayed out and chained to a white science lab table as his fangirls stand over him and poke him with instruments, giggling. "It's time for a new strategy."

We all start nodding... and then everything she said finally hits us.

There's a moment of silence.

"... I can't believe I'm voluntarily touching this subject," Shikamaru finally says slowly, "but..."

Before he can force it out, Chouji blurts it out for him. "There's a club now?"

Sakura and Ino blink. "Of course," Sakura replies, as if it's the most logical thing in the world. "The Uchiha Sasuke Is The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread Fanclub."

"I came up with the name," Ino adds proudly, smirking and examining her nails in a regal sort of way.

... There's ANOTHER moment of silence.

"I have no response," Shino finally states to the world at large. He then blocks the entire event out of his mind and goes back to his lunch. I admire his mental abilities.

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From the CYoA <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>A Wizard is You</a>

On cue, the front door of KirismeÆs shop is smashed clean off the hinges. The conversation and murmur of customers ceases instantly, and in the shocking, abrupt silence only the massive, ponderous sound of steel feet stomping across the floor can be heard, measured drum-beats pacing the executionerÆs stride.

At the end of the aisle appears a mechanical man, his emotionless steel face and hard, glittering eyes focused squarely on you. His heavy blade is drawn with the dramatic shing! of metal on metal, for his scabbard, like everything save his swirling red cape, is metallic.

ôWizard,ö speaks the Inevitable. ôYour library book... is overdue.ö
And you thought regular librarians were scary.


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"She likes you, you know." My sister tells me across the juice bowl.

"What?" I ask.

"Miss Mary of Ingris. She likes you. Been batting her lashes at you all night."

"I thought she had something in her eye." I observe. "Are you sure û"

"Yes, stupid!" Alma chides. "We learnt it in class! It's how a lady is to communicate her interest."

"Well that just seems contrived."

"Oh posh. Go dance with her."

"I already danced with her."

"Then go dance with her again. You're such a boy."

"But I don't like dancing." I object. "And I haven't had any cake yet."

"She's the prettiest girl in the room, brother. At least the prettiest of our age. Go dance with her."

"No she's not. You are."

"What?" She blinks, then beams. "Oh no I'm not. I could never compare to Mary of Ingris. She was in a play."

"You are though." I answer honestly. "Can I just dance with you and then we go eat cake?"

"Oh stop." She insists even as she smiles. "I'm not that pretty."

à wait.

This is that thing where she wants me to act like an idiot before we can move on.

"You are." I answer. "You're as bright as the moon and as pretty as the stars."

"Oooh!" She holds her cheeks in her hands. "You jest, brother!"

She's eating this up.


Seconds pass, and eventually I feel a kick to my shin under the serving table.

"Ow." I tell her.

"Hey," she deadpans, "keep going."


I start rambling, and my sister invents new ways of fawning after each compliment. It really is incredible how many ways there are for her to pretend to be embarrassed.

No one could compare to how pretty you are. Words cannot describe it. You make the whole room wonderful and bright. Your dress does not do you justice.


"Okay." She finally says, apparently having had her fill of fun. "Now go do that to Miss Mary of Ingris. Just like that."


"But I was just playing around."

"Yes, but go do it anyways." She insists. "Except, pretend to be sincere."

I don't understand.

"Go!" She pushes my shoulder. "Go! Shoo! She's still batting her eyelashes at you!"

àThis birthday seems like a lot of work.


"Father?" It's very difficult to get him when he's relatively unoccupied. Here, he's only standing and listening in to a group.

"Yes, my boy?"

"I'm sorry Father. It's important and I can't talk to Alma about it." She'll goad me into doing something embarrassing. And then tease me.

For weeks.

"I'm listening."

"Wh-" My hand shoots in to my pocket, pulling out a cloth after checking that no one was looking, "Wh-What do I do with this?" I ask desperately.

"Is that a handkerchief with a kiss mark on it?" Father asks in disbelief, setting down his glass and leaning in to observe.

"Ità It is." I nod nervously. "What do I do with it?"

Both of my father's hands fall on my shoulders, and he squeezes reassuringly as he fixes me with a hard stare. "My boy, we frame it. We frame it."

From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>FFTimeTravel</a>, a Final Fantasy Tactics fic.

I have trouble remembering a funnier FFT quote.


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Shiakou said:
"My boy, we frame it. We frame it."
From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>FFTimeTravel</a>, a Final Fantasy Tactics fic.
:rofl: :yay:

was reading "Kitsune: Son of Catwoman" now mind you its not the worst story I've read but still a guilty pleasure but this quote made my day.

The second he landed on the roof, Joker pulled his oversized gun out and pulled the trigger. Kitsune was thrown back by a giant fist that emerged from the gun and performed a hand spring before landing on his feet. Neither paid any attention to the helicopter flying above them.

"Are you Batsy's boy?" Joker asked, taking aim again, "I must know, because you my friend, have major skillz."

"...You are just so fucked up aren't you?" Kitsune asked before rushing the clown. Joker shrugged and took another shot at the goggled teen. The thief slid under the fist on his knees and bending back at an extreme angle. Joker was once again left wide eyed before he smiled.

"You must be a killer at Limbo parties!" he cackled out. Kitsune leapt up and rebounded off a giant fan before driving a kick into the cackling clown's face. Joker flipped in the air and scowled as he rubbed his cheek, "That hurt you brat!"

"You got one thing right about me, Joker," Kitsune said, startling the clown with a small smile. Joker arched a brow and smirked back.

"Oh, and what was that?" Joker asked, "That Batsy trained you or that you kill at Limbo parties."

"Say that second part again?" Kitsune asked, relaxing his arms and hands. Joker grinned.

"That you kill-"

"Stop!" Kitsune interrupted as he flicked his wrists and two knives shot out from their sheaths on his gloves. He smirked at Joker who suddenly had a shocked look on his face for the third time and said, "That part you got right."


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"Look... Boys are supposed to get this talk from their fathers, but, uh... obviously that's not going to happen..." she stated with a wavering gulp. "So it's going to have to be me. I hope you can live with that, I think you'd rather it be me than him anyway..."

Despite herself, Cornelia briefly imagined what it would have been like if Charles had done his fatherly duty...


"You see, Lelouch, there are birds, and there are bees, and, well, the birds fuck the bees. Wear a condom."

"What's a condom, father?"

"Just wear one. I'm done here."
From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>32 Pickup Chapter 10</a>


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Charles: The weak babies die in brutal combat against the strong babies. Unless the babies are richer, as that's another kind of strength.


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Staff member
zeebee1 said:
Charles: The weak babies die in brutal combat against the strong babies. Unless the babies are richer, as that's another kind of strength.
And now I'm wondering what fanon Charles would really want from a baby hier. So young, would he be interested in physical strength or the other kind of breeding strength?



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From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Promise Kept</a>, a Snow White and the Huntsman fanfic.

Snow White absent-mindedly tugged at her hair. "I don't understand. How many ways are there to keep your promise of bringing somebody back from the dead?"

"What if instead of doing it directly she made it so that my kiss can revive the dead?" the Huntsman asked.

Snow White took a moment to respond to that. "You really don't like the idea of being in love with me, do you?"
"First, I need to find a dead thing to kiss," the Huntsman told her. "Any ideas?"

As it happened, she did have several ideas.

They found a dead mouse in the kitchen and took it outside so that nobody would ask them why he was kissing a dead mouse. Or, as the case might be, why his kissing a dead mouse brought it back to life.

"Well," Snow White said, gesturing towards the mouse, "have at it."

The Huntsman glared down at her. "I'm getting there."

"I can see that," Snow White said, amused.

Making a face, the Huntsman gingerly brought the mouse closer to his lips.

"You know, if you're going to be this squeamish then it won't even matter if you can bring people back from the dead because you'll never actually do it," Snow White said helpfully.

Resolutely ignoring her, the Huntsman kissed the top of the mouse's head.

"You didn't kiss the lips," Snow White pointed out.

"I don't even know if mice have lips," the Huntsman began heatedly, "and I am certainly not going to-"

Something in his hand twitched. The Huntsman quickly dropped the mouse and it just lay on the ground for a moment before scurrying away.

"Well," Snow White said after a long silence. "I guess that answers that question."

"I want you to know that despite her evil brother and the way she threatened to kill me and basically destroyed everything that she touched, I'm suddenly remembering your stepmother with a lot more fondness," the Huntsman informed her.
"To answer your question, princess, I'm thinking of going into business for myself," the Huntsman replied. "Do you think your court could use a royal bringing people back from the dead man?"

Snow White tilted her head back and gazed up at him. "My court would love a royal bringing people back from the dead man. I might have to think of a better title, though."

The Huntsman shook his head. "Oh no! The name's the best part!"

Snow White rolled her eyes. "Coming from someone named 'the Huntsman.'"

The Huntsman frowned. "My name isn't actually 'the Huntsman', you know."

Snow White's eyes went wide. "It isn't?"

"No. Why would that be my name?" the Huntsman asked her.

"I don't know!" Snow White cried out. "My name is Snow White!"

"And I was wondering about that but I figured that you were royalty and royalty worked differently," the Huntsman explained.

"That's what I was thinking!" Snow White exclaimed. "Except, well, not the part about being royalty. But what do I know about the common people?"

"My name is Eric," the Huntsman introduced.

"Eric," Snow White said slowly. "Huh."

"Did I really never tell you that?" the Huntsman asked incredulously.

"You never did," Snow White confirmed. "I think I'm going to keep calling you 'the Huntsman.'"

The Huntsman shrugged. "As long as I'm the royal Huntsman."

"That is an improvement over your previous idea," Snow White conceded. "Alright. The Royal Huntsman it is."

"No, actually I was thinking the Royal Bringing People Back From the Dead Huntsman," the Huntsman said seriously.

Lord Raa

Exporter of Juice Tins
Unforeseeable content.

ôTheyÆve never used my arc-welding kit,ö Kaolla added. ôThe only thing that we can pinpoint as the common factor is the meteor shower.ö

ôWait, you do welding?ö the doctor asked, incredulous that the young blonde would do such a thing.

ôWelding is fun,ö the princess beamed. ôI like to make things.ö

ôSorry, IÆm missing something here. Suu here uses an arc-welder?ö

ôAnd a gas-axe,ö Kaolla smiled. ôFlames are pretty.ö
From the fanfic <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>First Try: Team Tetsuo</a>, a side story to First Try by the same author.

Naruto sighed as he waited for his sensei to arrive. He was unusually late. The last time that had happened had been when Kakashi had dragged Tetsuo-sensei off on some stupid adventure. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but it had involved them tripping over the cats that the old lady over on Life street kept. Those things were vicious, and if you weren't careful around them, you could get seriously hurt. Fortunately, all of the old lady's little monsters were black, so there were few worries of running into a normal-looking cat and getting your face shredded for just looking at it. Normally, his sensei's tardiness wouldn't be too much of a problem because he had several independent study projects he could be working on, but today was different. Today, he had new teammates.
A nice shout out to Kakashi's lame excuses, and that they're anything but.


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<a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'></a>

Their first class was Herbology, which Milo figured was safe enough. He was a bit concerned that learning about plants meant he might be obliged to invest Skill Ranks in Survival, or, Vecna forbid, Knowledge (Nature), but after clarifying that it was magical herbs they were studying, Milo was quite convinced his Knowledge (Arcana) would be up to the task. History of Magic was likewise no trouble at all, Milo spent the class trying to figure out what his immediate response would be when the ghost of Professor Binns invariably snapped and starting draining the students' Constitution scores, or when an evil Cleric showed up and seized control of the undead Professor with Command Undead.

Professor Flitwick apparently taught Charms, which was a problem for Milo. As a specialized Conjurer, he was obliged to drop two schools of magic û he chose Necromancy (he didn't look good in pale make-up and mascara) and Enchantment (he was uncomfortable about mentally controlling people). The Charms subschool fell neatly into the second category of spells, which Milo was forbidden from casting. Fortunately, the excitable professor, who Milo was convinced was some sort of deformed gnome, fainted dead away when he called Harry Potter's name while taking attendance.

"What have we got next?" Milo asked Ron.

"Uhh, let me check," the redhead said, patting his pockets for his schedule. "Transfiguration with McGonagall. I hear she's really strict."

"Transfiguration, eh? Thatà might be a problem," Milo frowned. That would involve, presumably, performing actual magic with a wand û something Milo hadn't even tried to do. He was worried that if he actually succeeded, he might wind up as a multi-classed Wizard/"wizard," and be doomed to spend the rest of his days as a walking joke of a character.

This story is petty hilarious so far. To give context, Milo is a d&d character (not in the sense of someone being turned into their character and inserted, but rather the character itself) who in mid dungeon crawl got dimension ported to HP land.
From the fanfic "Harry Potter and the Invincible Technomage"

Pritchard was shocked when the words "Let the boys go, and I won't hurt you. Not too much anyway." were spoken next to his right ear.

With his wand out of position to respond, the former hill farmer reacted with all the savagery that he was capable of and blindly swung his right arm, his blow connecting when his fist struck the man behind him square in the face. Pritchard released the Muggle boy and spun to face the other man.

To say that he was shocked to find the other man was dressed from head to toe in a red and blue body stocking and was hanging upside down from a gossamer strand would be something of an understatement.

"You," the masked man said, "hit me in the face."

Pritchard raised his wand to a defensive position. What was this? Some sort of unholy hybrid of a man and an acromantula?

"No, no, no." the man spider said, plucking Pritchard's wand from his hand faster than the wizard could blink, snapping the wand between his gloved fingers and tossing the sparking residue away. "You hit me in the face, you don't get to poke me with your stick on top of that. I'm tired of this." The masked being dropped from his webbing, executing a flip that had him standing upright almost before Pritchard realized he had done it. "I'm tired of all the disrespect. I know that the Xmen are the heroes that everyone loves to fear and hate these days, but that was my gig before anyone ever heard of mutants. I'm Spiderman damn it. I've got the proportional strength of a spider, I have webbing, I have major league bad guys, Doc Ock, Electro, Rhino, Venom, Carnage, the Scorpion, all of them claim to be my archenemies. Doctor Freaking Doom himself told me I was going to rue the day! And believe me, I rued that day, yes I did. I've gone toe to toe with Namor and the Hulk. They both handed me my spandexed butt, but I still fought them, and you. You're just a normal guy with a polished stick, and you hit me in the face." Peter moved until he was mask covered nose to nose with the thug.

"You know what?" Spider-Man asked rhetorically, "you've made me mad."
While Spider-Man has often been treated as a Butt Monkey, his actual list of achievements is pretty awesome.


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<a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'></a>
"Remember the talk we had about yelling," Raven chided him, encompassing herself in black energy to phase straight through him. It was a sensation not unlike being raped by soggy oatmeal. "Why a pastry shop, X?" she asked the villain of the day, further annoying Robin by stealing his lines. "Of all the places to target..."

"Have you TASTED their eclairs?" X gestured to a dozen small white boxes bound together by a net that was, of course, a series of Xs joined together. "My God. I would have PAID for them, the bakers really deserve it, that's how good they are. But you had to stop my last robbery so I had no money. Cycle of violence."
From <a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>Robin Has a Heart Attack</a>


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"Not really fought as much as it wasà test." The shortest of the three admitted nonchalantly. "I'm afraid that his overall potential will not significantly increase until he becomes more involved in the war."

"Overall potential?" Lancer echoed confused. "Why would this war make him stronger in anyway? Is he one of those types that for some stupid reason gets stronger every time you wail on him, because I really hate those masochists. All they have to do is live and they get a power boost. They don't do any real work to get stronger in the slightest. It's really unfair when you compare that to what we real heroes gotta do in order to get as good as we are."
<a href='' target='_blank' rel='nofollow'>From Fake Dreams</a>


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from the same chapter of From Fake Dreams
Sakura laughed lightly before realizing that Saber was once again serving herself. "Now that I notice it, you do eat quite a lot Saber." She stated, not seeing the chef's body suddenly shiver in fear. "I'm kinda jealous. Where to you put it all?"

Shirou's hopes for surviving that morning dropped significantly as the conversation steered towards the subject he had been trying to avoid in the first place.

"When I was alive there were many wars that I took part in." Saber stated factually. "I worked frequently to keep in shape, so my body rarely took on weight. Though to be truthful there are other factors that are in place that explain my rather young appearance."

"Luckyà" Sakura mumbled as she looked down at her rather large breasts. "I always have to be careful when I eat these days or else I start to explode. The problem is when I do I always seem to be hungry." She turned to her Servant and her rather generous assets. "What about you Rider?"

Said black and purple servant, who seemed to be the only female there who noticed Shirou's presence and his awareness that this conversation was not something that he should be present for, remained quiet for a moment before speaking. "I have never had much of an issue with my eating habits. I find that my body's proportions are rather balanced, though I must admit they did alter a bit when my appetite became a bit more demanding. From what I recall, many males find this sort of body type appealing."

At once the three women turned to the token male, whose mind was frantically attempting to think of any possible excuse to get away from them at the moment. He put the minor thought that Rider may have something against him to the side, as the remains of his self preservation instincts kicked into overdrive.

"You know, I do believe I didn't triple check everything inside my workshop after I summoned Saber to make sure nothing was broken or altered." He lamely apologized before standing up and quickly walking to the door. Cleaning be damned, he would be killed if this was a conversation between three normal women, but between Medusa, Arturia, and Sakura? He merely put other's well being before himself! If no one else was in even a remote amount of danger, he would do what any other normal human being would do and get the hell out of dodge. Despite what Rin would claim at times, he wasn't that stupid. "I'll be just a momentà"


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'This is not good.' Spike worded through gritted teeth, his claws still clenched around the magic compass, his nostrils letting out tiny wisps of smoke. His disbelief was still intact and the despair in his stomach had not lessened one bit as the image of their next target showed itself in place of the usual pointing arrow. 'Cadence, this thing has to be broken! There's just no way that - !'

He bit his lower lip, trying hard not to let those dreadful, dreadful words leave them.

'It's not improbable,' Cadence sighed as she rummaged through the closet that she had unveiled not moments ago, searching for something. 'Princess Celestia's over twelve hundred years old; it'd make much more sense for her to feel enough emotion for a runaway spirit to take advantage than her being immune.'

Spike saw that Cadence was diving deeper and deeper into her possessions, an action that he noted she was doing with a growing sense of aggravation. The young dragon sat on a nearby stool while assortments of items, including tennis racquets and crudely-patched stuffed animals flew past him to settle near to the kitchen entrance; he was briefly reminded of Twilight's habits when it came to her research sessions.

A rubber chicken flew past him, reminding Spike to clean the shelf when he reached home before Twilight found out he had neglected his chores. Cadence turned to face him soon after this thought shelved itself in his mind.

'She's still a girl, after all.'

Spike sighed as he closed his eyes, imagining Celestia acting as any normal mare would at her (relative) age. His thinking process briefly flew; seeing Celestia as a normal pony, albeit one with both wings and a magical horn wasn't that hard a sight, really. He could actually envision a tall, white unicorn-pegasus getting off from work and hanging out with Fluttershy and attending to the animals; he could almost see her and Pinkie Pie baking cakes and humming to themselves on a good weekend.

The young male leaned back, before remembering that he was on a stool and steadied himself. As he watched Cadence finally pull out a box with a label crossed several times over, he reasoned with himself that she did have a point. Perhaps underneath all that fancy jewellery and inclination to protocol beat the heart of a mare that wished to be free?

Perhaps; but things just seemed to muddy up whenever he thought of Celestia as anything but a sister-figure; or even a mother-figure. She'd known him since he was born; the thought of him even tolerating a passionate relationship with Celestia...

'She practically raised me!' Spike raised his claws, suddenly finding his hysterical side. 'She fed me my baby bottle, Cadence! MY BABY BOTTLE!'

Bad thoughts did not a dragon make.

'Now, now, no need to be hysterical.' Cadence said almost snootily, as if she was looking at an open book. The box in her hooves floated briefly, before landing softly on the wooden floor. 'It's not odd for boys to crush on older mares; it's practically a requirement when you reach that age.'

Cadence threw him a wink in the glow of her magic, lifting the lid of the box. He felt a brief warmth come over him when she did so; the dragon was reminded just who his partner was. A creep of embarrassment came over him for a myriad of reasons, mostly relating to the task placed before him.

He had to seduce Princess Celestia; Regent of the Day and Co-Ruler of Equestria. The magnitude of the idea almost scared him; not to mention what she or the spirit would do if she found out in the middle of it.

'I mean, you could do worse than crushing on a Princess. You know, with those shapely thighs; that delicate, deep voice...' Cadence's voice danced in his ears as he adamantly made his stance, refusing to even consider her ideas any longer with a stubbron turn of his head in the other direction.

Sometimes he wondered if she needed him at all.

'She's a dish; no harm in admitting that, you know.'

His rational side agreed; that there was absolutely nothing wrong with finding a degree of attraction towards Celestia, even if he did not exactly find it appealing to shout it out from the rooftops of Las Pegasus just yet. The sense of awkwardness relating to the idea was still there; Cadence would probably coach him through it, and even though he didn't want to admit it, he believed she could guide him through this one without getting either one of them sent to the dungeons for inappropriate liaisons, or so he hoped.

He turned to his partner.

'Yeah, I - what are you wearing?'

It was an apron. A very, very nice apron. Also, lens-less glasses.

'I'm giving you practice lessons!' she said much too cheerfully. 'You know, since we've got the Oedipal overtones there, why don't we train on sharpening them so we can get ready for our Princess?'

Spike felt he should have been a little more offended by the Oedipus joke than he did right then.


Spike felt his throat tighten as she pranced towards him, her teeth gleaming as though they belonged to a lioness.

'No, no, that won't do; I'm not Cadence now.'

Cadence's eyes briefly lit.

'I'm mother...'
From my latest fanfic, Spike no Mizo Shiru Sekai.