Ponies were mortal. Discord knew this, of course, but had never really paid it much mind. Killing wasn’t quite his thing; chaos was a lot less interesting if nopony was alive to engage with it, after all. And as much as grief could warp a pony’s mind, he preferred to do the mind-warping himself, so the entire concept of pony death was uninteresting to him at best. Celestia and Luna would never die - they were alicorns, they had enough power flowing through them to constantly repair even cellular damage - and it was very unlikely that he ever would. Nobody could prove draconnequi were immortal as there hadn’t been any record of them before him, but he had survived enough definitely-should-be-fatal situations to make a decent guess on the matter. Chaos incarnate is pretty damn hard to kill.
That was one of the many things Discord hated about his newfound “care for others”. Pony death was no longer something he was vaguely aware of; now it mattered. Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t die - she had alicorn power now, so she would be buzzing around giving him friendship lessons for the rest of foreseeable time, apparently. He couldn’t be certain Pinkie Pie would either, but he had admittedly little basis for that one. But Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Applejack definitely would. Big Mac would. Spike would too, eventually, even if it was centuries later than the rest of them. He wouldn’t admit how often he thought about it.
And that was without even considering her. His gateway drug into friendship and kindness and everything else he never could have imagined caring about. Fluttershy’s death was unfathomable, the end of the world as he now knew it.
Anyone who called him a creature of habit would find themselves a melting marshmallow in his hot cocoa, but he did spend an awful lot of time on Fluttershy’s little green couch. How could he not, after she embroidered a cushion for him? After she took the time to help him figure out which flavour of tea was his favourite (as if chaos incarnate was capable of having a consistent favourite flavour), and served it to him in a tiny china cup she couldn’t even lift properly in her hooves? He could materialise as much damn tea in as many stupid little cups as he could picture, but what would it matter if she wasn’t giggling over her own stupid cup beside him.
The matter only came up once with Fluttershy herself (properly, at least), and that was when the countdown to the end of his world began. They had packed Tuesday Tea into a picnic basket and set themselves up in a corner of her animal sanctuary, as far from prying eyes as was possible in such a place. He had been happily presenting her with a plate of cucumber sandwiches when she brought it up.
“Discord? I-I know this is, well, kind of a silly question, but I was just wondering and…”
He lay his paw over her hoof. “You can ask me anything you want, my dear. You know that by now, surely.”
She had given him one of her shy little smiles, eyes dropping away from his ever so slightly, looking entirely too adorable as she whispered, “Do you… Are draconnequi really immortal?”
He had eagerly launched into a dramatic rendition of everything that should have killed him and had utterly failed to, before the question really caught up to him. The story trailed off, and he found himself just staring down at her tiny, adorable, incredibly mortal face.
He swallowed thickly. “For all intents and purposes… yes.”
Fluttershy nodded, mulling the words over, before she put a smile back on her face. “Okay. Sorry, I was just wondering, because I know alicorns are and, well… I don’t want Twilight to be alone, and I know it’s silly, but I’m glad she’ll have you and the Princesses-”
“-When you’re gone,” he finished. Something ached in his stomach. “I see.”
“Sorry.” Her voice was small, strained. “Sorry, it’s just been on my mind a lot. I think Twilight’s worrying about it too, and I’m just happy you’ll have each-other.”
“I’m not certain she would be happy with that, my dear.” His throat burned with the effort of sounding noncommittal. “Imagine, an eternity of invisible walls and cotton candy clouds.”
She giggled, eyes sparkling again. “I’d quite like that.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do, my dear.” He caught her in one arm and pulled her in for a kiss. Maybe she realised he meant it, but maybe she took it as a sweet nothing, whispered into her ear to make her cheeks pink.
They passed the rest of the picnic sitting far too close to each-other, laughing over their old stories and happily brainstorming new ones. He dared her to put a whole cucumber sandwich in her mouth and laughed when she finally managed it. She enlisted two little hummingbirds to help her thread together a flower crown that just barely fit onto his horns. They had never formally pinned down what they were to each-other, other than “precious”, but that was all they needed. He walked her home as the sun fell below the horizon, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as Angel stomped his stupid fat foot in the kitchen.
“Fluttershy’s going to die,” he said to Celestia that evening, as they sat in her throne room.
She nodded. Her eyes carried the same heaviness as his. “She will, one day.”
He shook his head. “I can’t let that happen, Celestia. I can’t.”
“We can’t stop it, Discord. No matter how much it hurts.”
“You saved Twilight.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“Really?” He appeared mere inches away from her face, red eyes blazing. “You taking a fancy to a mortal and elevating them to stand beside you for eternity isn’t the same thing?”
“Twilight was born for this, it is her destiny to be a princess-”
“And Fluttershy’s is to be a corpse, then? To turn to dust beneath our feet within a blink of an eye? To vanish from the world, slowly fading into the abyss of time?” His blood was burning within his veins, it was showing through on his skin. It was boiling, bubbling, toiling, roaring-
“Discord, breathe.”
“Why should I, knowing how soon she’ll stop?” His grin stretched his face almost painfully. “Even if I don’t breathe I’ll outlive her by more years than either of us can fathom, so why does it matter.”
“Discord you need to calm down, you’re hyperventilating-”
“Does it matter, Celestia?” He was shrieking, shaking even as he hovered in place.
It was no surprise when the Royal Guard appeared to ‘escort’ him away; the fact that he even followed them was telling enough. He could rewrite reality, but life and death itself was something even he couldn’t handle without help; if Celestia wouldn’t elevate her, as future arguments proved, there was nothing he could do. He passed Luna on his way out, as she was making her way to her evening post; she said nothing, but her eyes were sympathetic when they met his. Not that the sympathy mattered, in the grand scheme of things. Anyone with the courage to approach him would be offering sympathetic pats on the shoulder when the time finally came - when each time came, because he would repeat the process at least six times in the coming years - and it wouldn’t fix a single thing.
And it didn’t, as expected. Rainbow Dash left them first - ironic, for the element of Loyalty. A daring new stunt, slightly miscalculated. The girls had all been devastated; he held Fluttershy to his chest for the entire service, letting her sob herself out. At Macintosh’s service, he held Pinkie instead, as Fluttershy cradled Applejack. She followed soon after, then Rarity a few years after that. Starlight, Trixie, a handful of other ponies he couldn’t believe he cared so much about. When Pinkie eventually surrendered to age, Fluttershy herself was already waning. He was lying beside her when she rattled out her last breath, combing his talon through her thin silver mane.
It probably wasn’t “I love you”, but it sounded close enough for him to believe it. He didn’t attend the service; he stretched himself out at their picnic spot, with the more confident of her animals curling around him. The stars were especially bright that night.
The Princesses did their best. Twilight prepared a room for him in the castle, under the pretense of him consoling Spike. Celestia would never be able to get close enough to him, but Luna and Cadence had a fair go. Having already dealt with Shining Armour’s passing, the princess of love was best equipped for his fury and heartbreak. They whiled away years’ worth of evenings over hot cocoa and sugary desserts she made by hoof, with Flurry Heart eventually joining them as the weight of alicornhood settled onto her small shoulders. He hated watching the change in her, but not even his power could stop it.
Spike changed too, over time. He kept the crooked grin and melodramatic Game Master voice, but he grew stronger and taller and wiser with each loss. They were indulging in a lonely Guys’ Night, with something far more potent than cider.
Spike adjusted his freshly-conjured hat as he said, “So, I met a cool dragon the other day.”
“Oh?” Discord raised his eyebrows into his hairline. “Do tell, is it a new lady friend?”
“A lady. Not my type, though; plus, she’s one of the new students, so Twilight would kick my butt.” He grinned widely. “I already tried that a while ago. But nah, this one was just nice to talk to. You know when you feel like you’ve known someone for years and you’ve only just met ‘em? She’s one of those.”
Discord nodded. “Ah, I see. I’ve never been a huge fan of nostalgia myself - why go back to what’s already been done? What’s the fun in repetition, hmm?” He sipped his sherbet-flavoured drink. “Though perhaps I ought to pop into the school. I am certain poor Twilight has been longing for my input - just think of all the fun she’s missing out on!”
“I know! Nothing’s come to life and chased a student all term!” Spike downed the rest of his drink and slammed it onto the table accidentally. He hesitated a moment, scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile, then cleared his throat. “So, when do you wanna do the next O and O game? Flurry’s joining the campaign this time, right?”
When Discord did appear in the school later that week - in a cloud of gumdrop confetti and strawberry-lace streamers - he was floored by what he saw. Quite literally; he dropped from the air and crashed into the floorboards when he heard her voice.
“What is that?” A delicate, painfully gentle voice cried.
His knees ached from the impact he had forgotten to cushion, but he was far more concerned with the young dragon before him. She was shorter than Spike was now, but still fairly tall for a student. She was covered in yellow scales, but her spines and wings were a pale pink hue. Her eyes were the worst; big and blue and brimming with fright. How he was seeing a pegasus in a dragon, he wasn’t sure, but all of a sudden he was listening to that last rattling breath again. Cold crashed over his skin and down his spine.
“What are you?” he asked in return, voice shaky.
She blinked those damned eyes. “A d-dragon?”
“Discord?” Twilight fluttered down beside him, laying a wing over his shoulders once she landed. “Is everything okay? We’re kind of in the middle of class, and I think you might be disturbing the students.”
Completely ignoring her question, he demanded, “What’s her name?”
The dragon girl squeaked. Discord flinched. Twilight’s eyes flicked over them both, but settled on him, “Discord, this is Kalama. Dragon Lord Ember sent her over on Smolder’s recommendation; she’s just joined the school.” She turned to the dragon girl then, smiling softly as she explained, “Kalama, this is Discord. He’s a friend of mine, and also the God of Chaos, hence the… chaos. Yes. Safe, though, he’s safe.”
“How dare you insult me like this, Twilight, I thought we were friends.” He ran a paw over his face, gave a heavy sigh, and turned to Kalama. “I assume you’re Spike’s new friend? He said you were familiar, and I underestimated how much he meant that.”
Kalama’s face wrinkled into a frown. “...Okay? Well, nice to meet you?” She picked up one of the gumdrops and nibbled it, eyes widening. “Is this sapphire flavour?”
Discord grinned. “It is! There isn’t nearly enough gem-flavoured candy in the world, is there? A true injustice, if I must say so myself.”
Kalama nodded shyly. “They’re really hard to get a hold of. Everything tastes like fruit here - which is nice, of course! But it’s not quite… like home, you know? O-of course you don’t know, you’re a… god. You’re a god.”
“Something like.” He shrugged. “I prefer Lord myself, but I’ll accept god.”
“That’s, uhm… very merciful?” She smiled hesitantly, as if she wasn’t quite sure she could make the joke.
He slapped her hard on the back. “Indeed! I appreciate the appreciation, Miss Kalama! I hope this is the start of a beautiful friendship!”
His smile was so wide it hurt. Kalama grinned back, shifting in her seat. Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly, and he suddenly became aware of the rest of the classroom. The students were all staring with something a little too fearful for a room full of free candy. Apparently his legacy had preceded him. He gave the room a final coating of cotton candy spiderwebs before he poofed away, and he was certain he heard Kalama laughing amongst the calamity.
He spent a lot more time at the school after that. He had resolved long ago not to get so attached to another mortal, but something about Kalama felt comfortable. Almost like home, if such a thing had ever existed to him. One day, she asked him for help with her homework, and he had her in absolute stitches as he eagerly scribbled answers over it. The next day, a letter appeared for him, in a ridiculously familiar script; his chest literally split in two. But it was just from Kalama, filling him in on Twilight’s reaction. He found himself smiling even as his eyes grew wet. He hadn’t received a letter in years.
Kalama kept writing to him. The stories were nothing remarkable - updates on her lessons, funny tales from home, the kind of simply mundane information he couldn’t believe he was interested in - but he read them greedily nonetheless. One day, he asked her about tea. Her reply came through a day later; he opened it and vanished.
“What do you mean you’ve never tried tea before?” He exclaimed in horror.
Kalama recovered quickly from the shock of his apparition, shaking her head to clear it. The other students in her dorm took a little longer, but Discord paid them no mind as he conjured a tea set.
“I started out on classic tea, but I think you’ll like a nice peppermint - good for soothing the throat, with all that fire breath, I’d imagine…”
She took the teacup in her claw and smiled as she sipped it. With an appreciative hum, she nodded. It felt just like old times. His views on nostalgia definitely hadn’t changed; he could feel his heart melting in his chest, dripping down through his ribcage, and he wasn’t sure whether the pain was physical or not. They finished their tea in the corridor, so the other students could catch their breath, with a plate of rock cakes for dessert.
“Thank you, Discord,” she said softly, ducking her head. She didn’t have long locks to hide behind, but he could have sworn he saw them. “This was really fun. We should… do it again sometime?”
“...Yes.” He looked down at the small dragon staring up at him hopefully. He could handle the pain. “Yes, we should.”
Kalama stayed with him for a lot longer. She stuck to his side for centuries, friendship morphing into something she thankfully didn’t force him to name. She was sturdier than Fluttershy, but he protected her just the same as they travelled the world together; Fluttershy was too kind to begrudge him a second love, he was sure of it. She was lying beside him one night, tiny puffs of smoke escaping her nose, when he stumbled onto his theory. It couldn’t be true, but it made him feel better. He woke her the next morning with a fearsome kiss.
“Hmm… What was that for?” she asked, blushing even as she bit her lip. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“For the company, my dear,” he sighed, “for the company.”
He swung her up onto his shoulder and carried her the rest of the way up the mountain. They could have teleported, or flown, as he kept reminding her, but she insisted on doing it the hard way. He had to admit, he saw her point. The sun on his back and the laughter in his ear was more than worth the exertion.
When Kalama’s time finally came, he felt just as unprepared. He took her back to the Dragon Lands when she began to wane, and she finally closed her eyes on one of the dry, dusty rocks below the Dragon Lord’s throne. He had suggested she try for the role, once or twice, but Kalama had no interest. She smiled up at him in her final moments, clutching his claw in her own until it fell limp.
He debated leaving that world, travelling off to another one and figuring things out from there, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave the few friends he had left. Twilight had changed since Spike’s death; she trailed after him whenever he was in the castle, waiting and waiting for the next jolt of excitement to take her from her paperwork. She made a lot less lists now, so she needed him to remind her that was okay. The ache in his bones lessened over the following years with her, like a brother and sister reunited at last.
One night, after he met a cowardly griffon with soft yellow feathers and a tinkling laugh, he told Twilight about his theory. She bit her lip, stalling, musing over his words.
“Discord, I know you miss her…”
“I mean it, Twilight.” His voice was low, steady, certain. “It has to be. Nothing else makes sense.”
She sighed. “You believe in things making sense now? Isn’t weird probabilities and coincidences more your style anyway?”
“And you don’t think reincarnation is a weird probability, Twilight?” He leaned in closer, the candlelight casting strange shadows over his face. “I’ve been thinking about this for decades. There’s no other way - after Kalama, and now Gillian… It can’t be mere coincidence.”
“I’ll…” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’ll look into it, okay? But I’m not making promises. Even if this is true, they may not have the memories.”
“I can live with that,” he swore. “I just need to know, Twilight.”
“I know, Discord, I understand.” She still looked perfect, as alicorns do, but her age was beginning to show in her eyes and her voice. She looked like someone who had seen death and realised how little it matters. “But why wouldn’t the others come back, if this is true?”
He sank back into the armchair. “I don’t know they haven’t. Maybe they’re just further away. I don’t know. I just know that’s her.”
Gillian hated flying. She hovered up high enough to see eye-to-eye with him, but never warmed up to travelling in the air. She had spent years in Griffonstone trying to keep a garden growing, and eventually moved to Ponyville for better conditions. Her flowers smelled like Fluttershy’s mane. They first made love in that garden, petals and pollen dancing in the air around them. She was just as nervous as the other two had been. Her beak cut into his neck while she was kissing him, and he happily let it scar below his fur.
She died faster than Kalama, but this time, he held onto hope. It was only a matter of time before the next.
He met Nymphalidae at the Grand Galloping Gala. He stopped bothering with the event after Fluttershy, but he began attending with Twilight again after Spike. Usually he spent it in a daze until there was enough of a chance to cause some good chaos, but this time something caught his eye. An oozing, smooze-like creature was dancing wildly in the centre of the room, to the alarm of most of the crowd. Finally, the Changeling King stormed up to it, shouted angrily in their native language, and the creature shrank into a pretty yellow changeling. He knew it was her immediately.
“Quite a show there,” he said to her afterwards, as he caught her by the buffet table. “Impressive.”
She grinned. “Thank you. You’re Discord, right?”
“The one and only. And you?”
“Nymphalidae.” She held out a hoof to him, and he readily shook it. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”
His heart swelled in his chest. He wondered whether the outline showed through his suit. “And I’m a huge fan of huge fans.” One appeared behind him, blasting them both with a strong wind. They both laughed. “Care to compliment me some more?”
“Sure, if I get something in return.” Her eyes twinkled even more than the pink of her wings.
He raised a brow. “Oh? You’ve got character, I’ll give you that. What are you looking for?”
“Stories,” she answered quickly, “about you. There’s no books about draconnequi, so I can’t learn enough to take your form. Think you can help me out?”
“There’s a reason for that, my dear.” He clenched his glass a little tighter and watched her eyes flick to it. “Those stories won’t all be pretty.”
The flesh sank off her bones, her skin turning grey and dangling as her eyes bulged from her face. A guest nearby cried out in fear. Discord laughed aloud. “It’s okay,” Nymphalidae assured him in a guttural growl, “I’m not all pretty, either.”
He swept her away before the King could chastise her again, and hid with her in one of the castle’s towers. They picked out new constellations in the sky, Discord popping hers into existence for a few seconds at a time. She told him about the Changeling Kingdom and he offered her bits and bobs of his backstory in return.
“I can’t give you too much at once, my dear,” he informed her, “otherwise you won’t have a reason to come back.”
He had never kissed one of them on the first day before, but he made an exception for Nymphalidae. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as she tried to shimmy her dress off at the same time. He regained his senses at the last moment, shook his head, repeated the “reason to come back” excuse. When she burst into a blush, he kissed her again, and promised her it would be the next time. It was, and the one after, and the one after…
Nymphalidae was different to the others. She was bolder, more adventurous; she understood his chaos and was growing desperate for more of it. He told her he loved her once, in the midst of passion. He had never said it before, but she said it back before he realised that. She kissed him, and he knew he had to tell her, even if Twilight couldn’t give him an answer yet.
She listened patiently to his tentative theory. He heard himself falling into rambles, into senselessness, but she kept nodding attentively. Her eyes were wide and glistening, but when he finally finished, she laid a hoof over his.
“You really believe this, don’t you?” She didn’t sound horrified yet, at least.
He nodded once, slowly. “Yes. I really do, Nymph.” Silence stretched between them, until he groaned. “You must think I’m insane.”
“I already think you’re insane,” she teased, prodding him in the shoulder. “I can hear you out on this one. Have to admit, changelings don’t really think about reincarnation, though.”
She pressed herself into his chest, tucking her head under his chin. His lion arm wrapped around her, his talon curling into her hair. “It must be strange to take in.”
“Not stranger than cuddling the God of Chaos himself.” Nymph hummed under her breath, muttering something he didn’t quite catch. After an awkward pause, she admitted, “Does feel a little weird, though. Apparently having past lives.”
“You don’t remember any of them, do you?” He knew it was futile, but still winced when she shook her head. “I see.”
“Maybe… Maybe we can try though?” Nymph shifted in his grip, turning her head to look up at him. “Maybe with your magic, we could… bring them back? Maybe? Is that how past lives work?”
“My magic doesn’t exactly excel at restoring things,” he reminded her dryly, “but it might be worth a try, if you wish.” He waited a moment before finally adding, “But we don’t have to. I understand if you don’t want this, and it won’t change us.”
“It already has, Discord,” she sighed, “of course it has. But I want to know, if we can. I want to know who I used to be.”
So the process began. Discord took her out to where the cottage used to be, sat her down beside the stream and told her about Angel and cucumber sandwiches. He brought her to the mountains and showed her the caves they stayed in. He took her to the overgrown garden and kissed her amongst the weeds. Physical places didn’t spark memories, so he tried images. Fluttershy was the easiest to find depictions of, with the detail of the element bearers’ in art and history, but Kalama and Gillian sparked the same level of recognition. Not quite familiarity, but a sense of nostalgia.
“We’ll keep trying, Discord,” she promised him, “we’ll keep trying until we get it.”
He carried her up to the tower again, for the sake of luck. She kissed him before he started the spell. The spell itself let him weave through her existing memories, to search for connections or hints of anything more; there was nothing beyond deja vu, but at least that was something. Apparently she used to have a pet bird at the changeling hive; he honed in on it, tried to morph it into the hummingbirds Fluttershy kept around her cottage, and succeeded in changing the sound at least. Nymph woke up then with a shout, and he snapped into the real world to comfort her.
“At your pace,” he promised. “We will do this at your pace, I swear it.”
She shook her head even as she tried to catch her breath. “Let’s try again, that was working. I think it was working.”
So they tried again, and again and again until finally they made a solid breakthrough. Nymph jolted awake, gasped for a moment, and then told Discord the story of his first kiss with Fluttershy in more detail than even he remembered it. He kissed her fiercely, hiding the tears in his eyes.
The first life seemed to come the easiest to her. Within a few weeks, he had restored enough Fluttershy memories for Nymph to shift into her convincingly. It ripped his heart to shreds, but he couldn’t resist cradling her in his arms again, just one last time. It wasn’t the last, but they swore it was every time. After that, Kalama and Gillian came rushing back, but it wasn’t the same. Discord wanted to hear her talk about them, to reminisce over the time they had already spent together, but he didn’t need to see them as often. Nymph spent so much time as Fluttershy that Twilight Sparkle ultimately pulled her up on it.
“You understand why this is so disrespectful, don’t you?” she implored, with droopy eyes. “Fluttershy was a hero of Equestria, and one of my best friends. Please respect her memory and stop this.”
“She remembers, Twilight,” Discord said quietly. “She remembers all of it.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared at the vision of her best friend before her, watching her solidify into a real person. She swallowed with great difficulty, her voice lodged in the back of her throat as she managed a weak, “F-Fluttershy?”
She ducked her head, long hair falling over her face. “K-kind of. The body’s not real, but… I have all her memories. All my memories, I guess. I remember all the adventures we had together.”
“Do you remember the girls?” Twilight pressed, trying and failing to keep the hope out of her voice. When she nodded, she practically whimpered. “Oh my Celestia… Discord, how did you do this?”
“A lot of spells and a lot of chaos - much as I do everything else.” He smirked at her, but it quickly settled into something more content as Nymph giggled. It was Fluttershy’s laugh to the very last note. “I needed to, Twilight. I was right. And now she’s here, and she knows, and… We have her back, Twilight.”
“We have her back…” Twilight gasped. “We have her back!” She rushed at poor Nymph, crashing into her with enough force to knock her to the ground.
Nymph moved into the castle the next day. She shared Discord’s room, as expected, but Twilight insisted on spending the first week glued to her side. She stayed as Fluttershy every waking hour, but reverted back to Nymphalidae as she slept beside him. Discord watched her night after night, the guilt gnawing in his chest.
Finally, he addressed it. “Nymph?”
She started; they had all been calling her Fluttershy for days now. “Yes?”
“Do you… miss being Nymphalidae?” He tilted her head back to him when she turned it away. “You can go back, you know.”
“No I can’t,” she sighed, quickly recovering to, “and I don’t mind that! But you and Twilight are so happy, and I’d hate to take that away from you.”
“I love you,” he reminded her. “As Fluttershy, yes, but also as Kalama and Gillian and - most importantly, I’d argue - Nymphalidae. I don’t mind if you want to swap and change; that’s more chaotic, after all, and who am I to say no to chaos? I miss Fluttershy desperately, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
She flung herself at him before he got a good look at her face. “Thank you, Discord. I love you.”
Changelings were mortal too. They would die - Nymph would die, eventually. The clock was ticking slowly, but loudly in the back of Discord’s skull. Sometimes loudly enough that others heard it and searched blindly for the source. But it didn’t strike him with the same icy fear as it used to; when she died, she would return. Perhaps she would be a hippogriff this time, or even a donkey. It couldn’t have mattered less to him. Her new form would be set, so he wouldn’t get to hold Fluttershy, but he could bring those memories back again as long as she kept falling for him. He could keep reminding her for all eternity, as they crafted this story together.
Nymph tilted her head up to kiss him, still shining through Fluttershy’s face. “I love you.”
He smiled warmly, his arms tightening around her. “As do I. Forever, my dear.”
Author's Note
*Discord's views on death and his care for Celestia and Luna come from alara j rogers' incredible The Last Draconequus series.
*Kalama is a Hawaiian name meaning "flaming torch", according to a baby name site.
*Nymphalidae is a type of butterfly, specifically "brush-footed" or "four-footed" (I googled this, I'm not smart enough to just know it).
*This whole concept of someone's reincarnated soul falling in love with the same person comes from the Nanatsu no Taizai (Seven Deadly Sins) manga, but I'm not giving any more details because spoilers.
Disclaimers taken care of, hope you enjoyed this monster of a piece. Constructive criticism more than welcome - really struggled with this one and would love to improve it!
