• Published 10th Mar 2020
  • 17,358 Views, 410 Comments

Waxing - Some Dickhead

Anon is legally required to marry Luna. Neither are too happy about the situation.

  • ...


"Twiggy, what do you mean there's no way out of this?"

Any displeasure towards the nickname is quickly covered up by her terrified blubbering.

"Anon, Pri - Princess … I, uh … couldn't fin-"

"Think carefully on thy next w'rds."

Luna's hoof creates spiderwebs in the horribly gaudy crystal flooring. It isn't even tiled or anything, just a massive slab of the stuff. Pretty impressive, actually, but doesn't change the fact that the castle is a massive eyesore.

A midmorning sun streaks through the windows. Legal encyclopedias are piled up high around a massive oak desk, the surface drowning in crumpled papers and half-read journals. A collection of snapped quills lies on the floor, as does Spike, who had been knocked unconscious by a flying copy of Equestrian Jurisprudence. Twilight presses her head against the blotter, hooves crossed around her head and eyes shut tight.

"I - I'm sorry Princess, but t - the law is … rock solid. No loopholes, no caveats, no anything. It, um, even has a … geass attached."

Pretty impressive too. Equestrians don't fuck around when making awful things.

Luna begins to pace back and forth. The stars in her mane are supernovas, her furious hoofsteps gunshots.


"I mean it … can't be, uh, that bad."

A glare.

"P - p - please … calm down Princess, you're, well, um, reverting to Old Equestrian."

Anon snorts, chin resting in his hands. He barely fits in the faux-leather armchair, being a six-foot tall monkey thing in a land of magical, waist-high, talking horses.

"Nice save, Tiddlywinks."

Luna stops and glares at him, brow furrowed and teeth clenched.

"KNAVE, WE … oh, sorry about that. You planned this, didn't you?"

"Fuck off moonhorse. It's not my fault, you were wearing a disguise!"

"It was literally just me without wings! I said my name was Moon, for Faust's sake! How could you have fallen for it!"

"Kind of new here, remember? I can barely tell you ponies apart!"

"Poppycock! You probably drugged me or something, slipped a love potion into my drink. I certainly wouldn't bed you willingly, inebriated or not."

"Did … did you just say 'poppycock?' I mean, you're old and all, but that seems - you know what, I don't care. I didn't drug you, Spergle checked."

Twilight rolls herself into a ball, wanting absolutely no part in any of this.


Anon rubs his ears.

"Nothing! Can you stop yelling?"


"I don't think it's really registered yet. I may be in shock, but it's hard to tell."

Anon leans back in his seat and stares at the ceiling. It's roughly shorn, sunlight refracting across innumerable points and ridges. The Elements of Tasteful Design must have been out of town or something.

"So whoever takes a Princess's virginity has to marry her?"

Twilight sticks her head out. Not by much, mind you, but enough to be heard.

"yes … the law is, um, very clear about that."

"Why is that even a law, like, at all?"

Luna rubs her forehead with a hoof.

"The nobility didn't want Sister and I to create harems. That never stopped her, but I have, or had, restraint. Rather silly statute, now that I think about it—almost asks for situations like this."

The two met at a bar and hit it off fairly quickly. After a few hours of drinking, they decided to go out into the world and make complete asses of themselves. Once they finished tying Scootaloo to a flagpole, they made out in an alleyway and, somehow, carried themselves back to Anon's house. The act itself was barely remembered, but the state they woke up in didn't leave much to the imagination.

What a shitshow.

The one night Anon gets tired of sitting around, the one night Luna needs to let off some steam, the one night they both decide to be creeps at some seedy bar—it's like the planets aligned to make their lives as painful as possible.

"What if he kills himself?"


Twilight puffs up, deciding to finally end this discussion before it results in a body. Or two.

"I - I'm sorry Princess, but … the geass has already taken effect. If he dies, well, so do you."

"I don't like the implications of that, Tintype."

"Anon, for the last time, my name is Twi - whatever. It's really complex, so neither of you have to worry about disease or immortality or anything—each will die at their preordained time without affecting the other."

"Even worse implications, if I'm being totally honest."

Luna stomps towards the desk.

"Divorce, then."

"Shouldn't you have asked that first?"

"The law explicitly forbids divorce, along with bigamy, non-cohabitation, swinging, and about 200 other 'alternative lifestyle choices.' Their words, not mine. Whoever wrote this knew their stuff, because it accounts for every single possible workaround. I'd love to properly study this if it weren't so weird and, um, anatomically detailed."

Anon deflates, and Luna begins to tremble.

Just as Twilight resumes her spiel, arms of golden light reach out from a pinprick. A hot wind curls around the study, sweeping up papers and ruffling hair. A blinding flash, and in the center of the room stands a demigod. Her appearance creates a shockwave, knocking over book piles and rattling windows. The light shifts to focus on her presence, an ethereal mane slowly dancing through sunbeams.

Celestia comes forth, surveying the scene that lies before her. The room is silent, none daring to intrude upon the Herald of the Sun. On her muzzle rests a serene smile, and from her eyes radiates a detached mirth. Giggling like a manic schoolgirl, Celestia runs up and crushes her sister in a six-limbed hug, levitating the pair around the room like a retarded crane operator.

Luna absolutely reeks of sex, but Celestia decides to ignore it.

"After so long, you've finally found true love! Mother and Father would be so proud."

The elder pulls the younger closer, somehow.

"So, who's the lucky stallion?"

Luna whimpers.

Neither Anon nor Twilight want to say anything, the former for fear of being banished to the Sun, the latter not wanting to break her former teacher's heart. It's like watching a paralyzed kid talk about how much they love sports, just depressing really.

After about a minute of this, the sisters return to Earth, the still unconscious Spike graciously cushioning their landing. Celestia releases Luna, who collapses onto the ground and desperately struggles for air.

"Ah, Twilight, so good to see you on this joyous occasion!"

She trots over and nuzzles the nearly-catatonic mare.

"And you must be the alien I heard so much about. It's nice to meet you, my little monkey."

She gives a little curtsey.

Celestia, oblivious to their horror, then hugs her sister again. There are a few audible pops.

"I can't wait to meet my new brother-in-law elect!"

What a terrible way to put it.

Celestia then looks around the room. She notes to herself that Anon is the only male, as she had not yet noticed Spike, and begins to vibrate. It's quite disturbing, actually.

Before Twilight can ask if she's alright, a piercing squeal emanates from deep within Celestia's belly. This, too, is quite disturbing.

Celestia tightens her grip on Luna, eyes shining and smile beaming.


The light suddenly dims, and Celestia's presence graces Ponyville no more.

None of them have a reaction, and so just sit there until Pinkie comes and throws a party. The cake is shaped like a moon, if anyone's wondering.

Author's Note:

Featured. Nice.