The Curious Collection of Princess Celestia

by Burt

Rating: teen
Tags: Profanity, Princess Celestia, Human, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 1059

Princess Celestia has a habit of hoarding weapons of… odd naming conventions.

Swords, hammers, knives, pikes, spikes; even rolling pins. Princess Celestia collects them, and stashes them within her private collection for few to see.

Anon notices that a few of them have very… choice labels.

Published 2023-11-26 17:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2023-11-26 17:10:01 UTC

It’s just a hobby don’t look too deep into it

Anon blinks, his expression a deadpan as he looks down at the rather peculiar title of a spear resting on top of a soft cushion within a display. He taps the glass, clearing his throat. “Tia, why would you need this?”

Princess Celestia hums. “Well, I believe someday it may have a use case.”

Anon points to the label. “Dwarf Deflator?”

Celestia harrumphs. “Evil can take on all shapes and sizes.”

“This is too much, girl.” Anon shakes his head, before gesturing to the thousands of other melee based items lining the walls. “There’s no reason you should have this many weapons.”

“I have the right to bear arms.”

“Sure, okay. But why do you have a pair of claw gauntlets fashioned from what seems to literally be bear arms?”

“Because I have the right.”

“But do you have the need?”

“Perhaps one day.”

“You have not been to war in over a hundred years. You’re a hoarder.”

Celestia paws the floor. “It is not a crime to have a collection.”

Anon massages the corners of his eyes and sighs. “I’d expect this from Luna, not you of all ponies…”

“Luna has one blade and only one. For that, she is a one trick pony.”

“A jack of all trades is a master of none.”

Celestia grows a smug looking smirk on her face. “But a jack of all trades is often more useful than a master of one.”

“Clearly you have potent world views on the matter.”

“Some of these weapons have great history, and nostalgia. A few are gifts from dear old friends.”

Anon looks around before pointing to another label. “Are you sure the hammer labeled Orphan Masher has a great history?”

“We don’t know exactly what it’s been through to get to this point.”

“I can imagine! And what’s this? Another one? Orphan Smasher? What’s the difference!?”

“Well you see, one mashes, and the other smashes.”

“Jesus, Celestia I’m sensing a theme here— Orphan Basher!? How many Orphan themed weapons do you have?”

“It’s good to have variety!”

“How many evil orphans do you come across!?”

“Not a single one, yet. But when I do I’ll have multiple contingencies!”

“Celestia there ain’t no way in fucking hell you’re gonna need…” Anon narrows his eyes to read another nameplate. “Anonymous Atomizer…?” His neck snaps to throw a incredulous look at the princess, voice squeaking he shouts. “Why do you have this!?”

“That one is newly minted.”

“It’s not a coin! And it’s designed to kill me!” Anon squeaks out.

“It atomizes you, actually.”

“Gee, I wonder what fucking happens when you atomize someone, Celestia!”

“Perhaps one day, if you turn to a way of villainy, we will find out.”

Anon flinches away, hands up. “H-hey now lady, watch it.” He croaks.

Celestia snorts. “It’s good to have options, my friend.” She stresses the word. “There is no harm in it.”

“Until it’s swinging right at me.” Anon mutters.

“The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion.”

“…a bible verse?”

“I’m the progenitor of the saying.”

“It’s uncanny how many things of my world find their way here.”

“It’s uncanny how many things of my world find their way into yours.”

Amon shakes his head. “Back to the point of contention—“ He trails, looking at a rather wicked looking… rolling pin. “…The Baby Kneader?”

Celestia nods wistfully. “Ah, a classic.”

“A classic, in that you’ve used it before or…?”

“A classic, in that it’s so old I cannot remember its origin.” She shrugs.

“Why. Just why would you need a rolling pin as a weapon? That seems highly unlikely to help in a combat situation.”

“It’s not built for combat situations. It’s built for kneading babies.”

“I… I don’t even know what to say to you anymore, Celestia. I’m beside myself.”

“Most stallions can’t handle the sheer girth of my armaments. It’s quite alright, Anon.”

“Implying that mares are ok with this?”

Celestia looks everywhere except the human’s eyes. “Well…”

“Tia how many people have seen your armory?”

“More than a few.”

“How much is that?”

“Er… a couple… dozen?” She quickly coughs out.

“A couple dozen.” Anon intones.

“Okay a few hundred.” Celestia admits.

“…and has any one of them been okay with this?”

Celestial looks to the floor, before whispering. “My sister is fine with it…”

“Of course she is…”

“Most feint when they see the Infant Immolator, so bravo.”

“How many FUCKING weapons involve children!?”

“Twenty one.”

“Twenty one?”

“Yes. Nine bladed weapons; ten blunt weapons.”

Anon does the math, and finds it wanting. “That’s nineteen Celestia.”

“Oh, well there’s the rolling pin, which you’ve decided isn’t a weapon. And the… um…”

“And the… what, Celestia?”

“We can skip that one.”

“Celestia.”

“Ha?”

“What is it?”

“…”

A staring contest is held.

“…”

Celestia loses. “It’s a pair of large garden sheers.”

“What is the name of said large pair of garden sheers?”

“Well…”

“Tia!”

“…Child Heads Clipper.”

“Oh come on!” Anon throws his arms in the air. “You’re doing this in purpose, something is seriously wrong with you!”

“What, just because I have a hobby I’m a villain?”

“I’m just saying most people who own weapons don’t have very niche, and incredibly specific, fucked up use cases!”

“Okay, well I do.”

Finally, Anon is at his breaking point. “I’ve had enough Tia.” He shakes his head. “I’m getting out of here.” Before quickly turning around and stomping out of the armory. Muttering to himself all the way.

Princess Celestia watches him go in silence. Unmoving for a few moments. Before turning to face a row of weapons Anon thankfully missed. She sighs. “Thank goodness he didn’t see the race specific juvenile based weapons…” She wipes a droplet of sweat from her brow. “Why are all stallions like this?” She bemoans, wandering over towards the many hanging items and slowly outreaching a hoof to gently caress one. She sighs, before sniffling.

“I just want a colt to appreciate my racks.”

Author's Note

Alright. Who stole my goddamn Kraft singles? I’m trying to make grilled cheeses but somebody keeps stealing them whenever I stash more in my fridge. Im getting desperate here guys, I really really really love grilled cheeses. You’re breaking my heart 😢