Octopus's Garden

by Commander30

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Drama, Profanity, Fluttershy, Discord, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6674

Discord is sorry. Fluttershy is sorry. They're both sorry, and they both need to talk about this, but feelings are hard sometimes.

Discord is sorry. Fluttershy is sorry. They're both sorry, and they both need to talk about this, but feelings are hard sometimes.

Takes place immediately following "Twilight's Kingdom". Yes, I know I'm quite late to the party with this...

Published 2022-01-12 04:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2022-01-12 04:20:01 UTC

we would be so happy, you and me

Author's Note

Yeah, I know, every other Fluttercord author has already written a follow-up to this episode and I'm probably not bringing anything new to the table, so what's new?! lol

Much thanks to Ringo Starr for providing such an unexpected inspiration for this :)

we would be so happy, you and me

What comforts can you cling to in life when your life is literally chaos incarnate?

Comfort, after all, implies familiarity. It implies something that’s such a staple in your routine that it has become an anchor. Something constant, something soothing, something safe.

But Discord was the spirit of chaos and disharmony. He should hate constancy and comforts in such a manner. Or, at the very least, he shouldn’t actively be seeking them out.

Comfort and constancy went against the very foundation of what he was, right?

And it was this reasoning that helped explain to him (and he thought he hated explanations; did he even know himself anymore?!) just why he had gone and done what he’d done. His life had become… constant. Familiar. Predictable. True, the current path his life had settled into was hardly unpleasant… he was happy, actually, happier than he could ever remember being in his eons of existence. But when his brain had settled on the “constant” adjective to describe its current state of being, the descriptor had bothered him. Bothered him to his core.

His life was constant, and he liked it, and he shouldn’t.

Because, when he really stopped to think about it, what possible reason could the literal lord of chaos have for setting aside one afternoon a week to share tea and conversation with the same pegasus, week in, week out? Never mind that he liked it. Never mind that it was always the highlight of his week, in fact—that no more than half an hour after it was done, he was already eagerly anticipating their next meeting.

Fluttershy was and did and said everything that he wasn’t, and by all accounts he shouldn’t have craved anything that she had to offer. But he did.

And that… just wasn’t right. No matter how right it felt. It wasn’t right, and not in the good, chaotic way, either. It wasn’t right in the “no matter how happy this makes you, this is by its very essence the absolute antithesis of what you are and if you keep going down this path you will self-destruct or world-destruct or Fluttershy-destruct or lord-knows-what, but the point is you can’t do this, you are simply incapable of maintaining this for the long run because you are incapable of maintaining anything for the long run” way.

So when Tirek had extended his offer of friendship and teamwork, Discord had taken it. Oh sure, yes, doing so gave him a strange ache in his chest whenever his thoughts drifted to Fluttershy (as they often did), but whatever, best to rip the band-aid off now, right? The writing was on the wall. Fluttershy was constant and steady and constant and habitual and constant constant CONSTANT and was never going to work out long-term anyway. This way, he could still have friendship, and unbridled chaos, and not have to worry about Fluttershy and her inherent contradictions against him anymore.

Tirek wasn’t Fluttershy, he wasn’t anything like Fluttershy in fact, and that bothered Discord, but he decided to push the thoughts about that to a later time.

It made sense, he kept telling himself. It made perfect sense to cast Fluttershy aside as the stepping-stone she was and find a new friend.

Until the truth came crashing down and he lost everything.

Tirek wasn’t interested in sharing anything, especially power. Or friendship. He had never actually been a friend, and if Discord hadn’t been such an absolute novice at this whole “friend” thing, he would have known that from the start and never fallen for his deception. That’s what he told himself, anyway. Not that it really made him feel any better, but he still clung to that belief anyway.

Of course, now, there was really no need to cling to any beliefs of unimportant things like explanations and rationales anyway. Everything had worked out perfectly, even despite—because of—his betrayal. If he hadn’t done that, Twilight wouldn’t have had to accept him back as a friend, and she wouldn’t have learned her friendship lesson, and they wouldn’t have ever unlocked the Elements of Harmony from the Tree and been able to defeat Tirek and set everything right again.

(never mind that Tirek would have been incapacitated and put away in an instant if Discord had just done his job in the first place)

And the ponies had seemed completely willing to let bygones be bygones and welcome him back with open arms. Not that he really cared what any of them other than Fluttershy thought of him anyway. Okay, so maybe he did care. A little. A smidge. …A bit more than a smidge. But that was it.

Fluttershy’s opinion was the only one that really mattered, anyway. And during that celebration that in which somehow, despite everything that declared that he shouldn’t, he had been enthusiastically included and accepted, every time their eyes met she had given him that sweet little smile of hers that let him know that everything was right with the world.

Everything was not right with the world, though. And that was the problem.

She was constant. Even her friendship for him was constant, when he had practically handed to her on a silver platter every reason to throw it away and never look back. But no, even then she had just stood there, metaphorically extending a hoof in reconciliation, a look of complete understanding. Except she didn’t understand, because if she truly did, then she would have wanted nothing more to do with him. Hell, he didn’t understand, and even he knew this.

And thus, after the celebrations were over and Equestria had seemingly collectively decided that it was now time to go back to normal and forget that any of this had ever happened, Discord had collectively decided with himself, himself, and that annoyingly critical version of himself that he was going to steer clear of Equestria for a few dayweekmonthyears. He’d keep his chaos and his chaotic thinking (that only made sense in the sense that it didn’t make sense to anyone else) to only those who appreciated it—and in Chaosville, that meant him and him alone. And whatever clones of him that appeared, but they agreed with him. Usually.

But he hated it.

There was no payoff.

There never had been before, and he hadn’t hated it then, he reminded himself. The very chaos that his actions had brought had been payoff enough. But now, everything he did felt… flat. Unimportant. Uninspired.

And he knew why, and that just made it a quintillion times worse.

Being set free, but with specific limitations on what he could and couldn’t do, had at first seemed like a real drag. What good is chaos when it couldn’t be literally anything, after all? But he’d soon discovered that the limitations had actually forced him to get more creative, and thus more proud of what he managed to come up with. And, all in all, the limitations weren’t that hard, really. They were, to wit:

Don’t do anything that would harm or damage any living creature.

Make Fluttershy smile.

Or even better than number 2, make Fluttershy laugh.

Numbers two and three didn’t seem important on their own, but they were the very things that made everything so worth it. Because, before, what reward had his chaos brought? Sure, it had made him happy, for a short while, but eventually he grew bored with his handiwork, no matter what it was. The joy he took in whatever disharmony he wrought was so damned fleeting, causing him to just create more a minute later and forget everything that had come before… and, for pity’s sake, weren’t Fluttershy’s little smiles and giggles just as fleeting? The answer was yes, yes they were… but then why did they fill him up so much more than any personal sense of accomplishment ever had?

The whole point of his reformation was to learn to appreciate friendship, right? Not to learn to appreciate one specific pony. That was just… nonsensical. And again, not in the good way.

Friendship was a concept, something that could be applied to any number of individuals. Even though he was new to this whole notion, Discord understood this. So if you lost friendship with one individual, it was no matter, because you could just pick it up with someone else down the road.

And he hadn’t even lost it with Fluttershy at all. Apparently.

So why was this still eating him alive?

Because he should have lost it, that was why. He should have, and if he gave Fluttershy enough time to think about it, she’d certainly realize it and drop him like a goat-headed, snake-tailed hot potato.

And he was doing just that, giving Fluttershy time to think about it, and it was practically signing his death certificate, and Fluttershy’s friendship was the one thing he now knew that he couldn’t live without—and no, not friendship in general, but Fluttershy’s friendship—how stupid had he been to believe it was replaceable! Because it wasn’t, it never had been, and yet he was allowing her to drop it anyway, because…

Because…

Sometimes even he didn’t understand himself, and this was one of those times. Except usually he was proud of the enigma that was his behavior.

Not now, though.

Because it wasn’t just about him anymore.

Chaosville was wonderful, because it was just as chaotic as he needed it to be, and it was also awful because it was just as chaotic as he needed it to be. He needed to return to something that he was familiar with in order to forget and push aside just what he had done, and yet he couldn’t push aside just what he had done, because if he did, he’d probably just do it again.

Well, if he never returned to Equestria, at least he’d never hurt Fluttershy again, even if he did do something stupid.

Chaosville was practically built for him, after all, right? Why should he ever have any reason to leave? Besides friendship, but hell, forget friendship, he was obviously wholly unqualified to be anypony’s friend anyway. It was best to just keep himself in his literal domain where he could do what he wanted without ever hurting anyone. If he became lonely, so what… he deserved far worse for what he’d put Fluttershy through.

Even with the chaos, things were boring, and lonely, and for the first time in his eons-long existence he found that he was beginning to hate himself, but none of this was reason to go back and screw things up more and make Fluttershy even more miserable. Nothing could make him return to her, not even the ache in his chest that grew stronger every second he spent away from her.

Except maybe for the sudden, unexpected, but not unknown sensation of his lion’s paw suddenly turning into a mailbox and spitting out a letter, letting it fall to the liquid ground with a loud clang.

Hmm. That was… odd. Even for him. True, he usually received letters in such a manner, as he found his paw was perfectly suited towards the dual purpose of appendage and mail deliverer.

But no, the oddity this time was receiving a letter at all, because only Fluttershy wrote to him. Only Fluttershy had the capability of reliably reaching him by mail at all.

And why, oh why, would she be writing to him after what he’d done?

He stared at the letter on the floor, watching it sink into the liquid like an ice cube, before it popped back up into his face and demanded “OPEN IT!” in his own voice.

“You shouldn’t sound like me,” Discord said to it crossly, snatching it out of the air. “You should sound like…” He hesitated, not wanting to say it, because truth be told it shouldn’t sound like her, because this shouldn’t be from her in the first place, even though he already knew it was.

“I don’t sound like Fluttershy because she wouldn’t tell you that you’re being a massively moronic dunderhead,” the letter shot back, still in his own voice.

“I wouldn’t tell me that either,” Discord snapped. Getting irritated at a scrap of folded paper wasn’t really something he had planned on doing that day, or, well, ever, but it was something new, at least.

“Ha! Then what have you been doing here for the past five days?”

Discord blinked. “Five days? Are you sure?” Not that calendars really mattered to him, and the passage of time in general was usually a rather difficult concept for him to grasp, but hardly seemed like he’d been wallowing in his own depressing, boring chaos for five whole days. It felt more like just five years. –Wait, that would be more time, right? Argh. He was bad at this.

The calendar that was tacked to his ceiling fell down on him with the shatter of sidewalk chalk, skewering itself on his antler. “Five days and eighteen hours, to be precise,” it said, also talking in his voice.

Discord scowled, grabbing the letter in both hands while simultaneously stretching out a wing and growing a spindly hand on it to retrieve the calendar as well. Like he needed another paper product to annoy him today…

He had been particularly proud of this calendar. It always showed the current day circled in bright red ink, and so even though he couldn’t be bothered half the time to know what day it even was, the calendar very helpfully informed him that it was, in fact, Wednesday, September fifth—

“It’s Wednesday?!” The calendar and Discord’s third hand exploded in a puff of green popcorn. No wonder Fluttershy had written to him. He had missed Tuesday tea! Of course he was going to miss every Tuesday tea from now on, and every other day of the week too—

Abruptly, he tore open the letter in his hands. It was short. So short. Just four words.

Please come visit me.

No affectionate “Dear Discord” salutation. No endearing little tales of what she’d been up to. No inquiries about how he was doing. No “your friend” signature.

Just four little words, written in penmanship that, while undoubtedly Fluttershy’s, was shaky and uneven.

Ouch.

Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch. This was too much.

Discord couldn’t keep standing, and he didn’t think about hovering but even if he had he probably wouldn’t have been able to do that either, so he just fell back into his chair, except he’d forgotten that he’d moved the chair to the roof earlier that day so he just hit the floor with a splat. The liquid on the floor began to envelop him, but he hardly noticed.

“You’re not just going to sit there, are you?” the takeout menu on the floor demanded.

Discord groaned in agitation, grabbing himself by the tail and yanking himself back up. First of all, why did he even have a takeout menu at all? No eatery in Equestria would be able to deliver to him. And secondly, what was it with paper products today? That was three for three. Paper was clearly the enemy of the day. Especially since they all had the audacity to sound exactly like him. “Of course I’m not going to just sit here. I’ll go pop in for a visit and see what she wants.”

He was afraid he knew exactly what she wanted. Clearly she was after an honest termination of their friendship, face-to-face, to make things clear-cut and final. And he didn’t want to hear it… it would completely tear him up inside forever to hear it, in fact. But he also knew that he had to hear it.

The takeout menu still on the floor made some snide comment to him, but he didn’t listen because he didn’t care. He just focused morosely on the summons in his hand, every rough stroke of the pen reminding him just how awful he’d been to her. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy,” he murmured, folding the paper back up and tucking it into the fur above his hoof. Part of him wanted to throw it out the window and let it disappear forever, but he just couldn’t bear the thought of doing that to anything that came from his dear, sweet Fluttershy.

After being so willing to throw Fluttershy herself away, he was now acutely aware of just how precious everything about her was. Even short notes from her.

She was expecting him now, and he had a feeling that she’d insist that it was rude to keep someone waiting. Not that saving face with her really mattered in the slightest anymore. But he still wanted to see her. He missed her deeply, he realized, after spending all this time holed up away from her.

She wanted to see him, and he wanted to see her… but he had to know the her he was about to see.

Fluttershy was constant, yes, and he loved that about her even though, by all accounts, he shouldn’t… but he had a feeling she was going to be very different this time. And usually he liked different…

…but not with her. Anyone, anything but her.

He had to know what he was getting in to.

So he straightened up and, instead of snapping his fingers like he usually would have done, he wrapped his tail around his goat horn and gave it a very small tug. He wasn’t accustomed to stealth like this, especially when teleporting somewhere—usually he wanted to be noticed the second that he appeared—but he needed preparation this time. He needed to know Fluttershy’s emotional state. He could make a reasonable guess, of course, but he had to be sure.

He was pleased to find that he seemed to be successful in imbedding himself as part of the curtain in Fluttershy’s front window. Hopefully his attempt to hide his eyes was equally as successful… eyes were tricky sometimes. He loved to see things. And he needed to see Fluttershy right now.

She wasn’t looking at the window, or anything, really. She was still seated at her desk, obviously just having sent her summons to him, her body seeming to only barely stay in an upright posture. She propped a foreleg up on her desk, leaning into her hoof and exhaling shakily, sounding almost on the verge of tears.

Even though Discord was only a curtain at the moment and didn’t need to breathe (not that he really needed to breathe at all anyway), he could feel his breath hitch up just the same. Oh dear. This was worse than he’d thought. And he’d thought that it would be pretty bad.

Fluttershy seemed to nearly fold in on herself atop her writing desk before abruptly looking back up again, scanning the room. Not finding what she was searching for, she sighed again, dabbed at her eyes, and stood up.

Funny how she seemed to be moving upwards…

…wait, everything in her cottage seemed to be moving upwards…

Her eyes fell to the window, or rather the floor directly beneath the window, and she gave out a squeak of surprise.

Oh, wait. Had he unraveled? Discord would have smacked himself in the face if he’d had any apendages. Or a face. Hmm. This was highly impractical. Well… no matter now… he had all the preparation that he needed, which was to say that he knew this was going to be absolutely awful, so he might as well get down to it and stop prolonging the inevitable.

“We both seem to be a little frayed,” he said, allowing himself to have a face again, somewhere on the tattered cloth, he wasn’t sure where.

Fluttershy jumped back, but just barely, and her eyes bulged. “Discord!” she breathed, sounding… relieved? No, that couldn’t be right. He needed his real ears back. He took on his natural form again, in the hopes of examining her better.

But she didn’t give him the chance, instead launching herself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“I’ve been so worried about you!” she exclaimed. “Did you get my letter? –Oh, you… you must have gotten my letter… I was so afraid that you wouldn’t come…” She finally pulled away from him, just a little bit, but still with her front hooves resting on his shoulders. “Are you doing alright?”

Discord blinked. Wasn’t that the question of the day. He had been just fine these past few days because he was keeping himself in his perfect, personal dimension where he could cause all the chaos he wanted, and at the same time he was constantly miserable, wracked with the guilt of his actions. He felt horrible right now seeing how distressed his dear Fluttershy was, but at the same time felt so, so, so glad to see her again.

Fluttershy gulped, the sorrow in her aquamarine eyes magnifying with each passing, silent second. “P-please say something,” she whimpered.

If the goal was to keep Fluttershy from crying on his account ever again, Discord sure was doing a bang-up awful job of it right now.

“Something,” he said mechanically.

It was following the letter of the request, if not the spirit, but it certainly didn’t seem to raise Fluttershy’s spirits at all.

“If… if you’re still needing some space, that’s perfectly fine,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “I was just so worried when you didn’t come yesterday, and I thought maybe something happened to you…” The corners of her mouth awkwardly twitched up into a small, uneasy smile. “But as long as I know you’re okay, th-then you can go. I know you probably still need more time to process everything and I’m probably not helping at all.” She let go of his shoulders and flew back from him by about a foot or so.

Now this his arms were free, Discord pressed his paw against his forehead, desperately wishing that Fluttershy’s hooves were still clutching his arms to give him the perfect excuse to not do that. “Fluttershy,” he said wearily, “you’re not making any sense.”

“S-sorry,” Fluttershy stammered.

“And apologizing is not helping in the slightest.” Discord tried to keep himself from glaring at her, because the last thing he wanted was to upset her even more, but by chaos was she saying all the wrong things. “Stop apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong, and stop playing nice just to save my feelings and tell me the real reason why you asked me here.”

Fluttershy blinked, looking utterly confused and devastated. “I—I just wanted to know that you’re okay.”

“Hmm, somepony needs a vocabulary lesson today,” Discord said, surprised by the sneer in his voice. He started leafing through a dictionary. “Real, adjective: truthful, accurate, existing or occurring as fact—”

“Stop it, Discord, just stop it!” Fluttershy cried out, smacking the dictionary out of Discord’s hands. “That is the real reason! These past few days everypony has stopped me in the street all happy and wanting to congratulate me, and I’ve been so miserable, not hearing from you or not even knowing if you’re safe, and I’m also just feeling so guilty because I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you, and I didn’t know where you were and I didn’t even have the chance to apologize!”

“What?” Completely baffled, Discord dug a finger in his ear, trying to make sure he’d heard correctly. “What in Equestria do you have to apologize for? I’m the one who should be apologizing to you!”

Fluttershy blinked rapidly before finding her words again, still firm but not quite as harsh as before. “You’ve already apologized. And I understand, and I’ve already forgiven you. But I never got the chance to apologize to you, and I thought—I thought that you were avoiding me because y-you realized the same thing I did, that I haven’t been a good friend to you—"

“Have you come down with something? Do you have a concussion?” Discord peered into Fluttershy’s ear, wearing medical scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck.

Fluttershy pulled away, but just for a second an amused smile flashed upon her face, and just for a second Discord felt a million times better.

She looked at him, her smile gone and her eyes imploring. “Can we… just talk? B-because I think we both need to hash out… what happened.” She flinched and turned away, but kept her eye contact with him as she continued. “I-I understand if you’d rather not right now and you need more time to yourself, but… but I really need to talk with you. It’s important.”

He really would have rather not, but that was moot right now. She was upset, and she wanted to talk, and so they’d talk. He’d do anything she asked. Hell, he’d even give up chaos entirely if she asked him. He hoped she didn’t know this, because he really didn’t want to give up chaos… but he she asked him to, he would. It was that simple.

So he slid down to sit on the floor on his haunches, tucking his arms in and resting his palms between his feet. “Alright,” he murmured. “I’m listening.”

Fluttershy landed on the floor and also sat down in front of him, awkwardly tugging at her mane and pulling it away form her eyes. “When…” she started. Her voice trailed off, and she stared at the floor, blinking rapidly.

Discord was beginning to think this was a very bad idea, for her sake every bit as much as for his, and the longer she stared at the floor without continuing the more and more he fought with deciding to just tell her so, but just as he was about to, Fluttershy suddenly looked up and began speaking again.

“When you trapped us, and let Tirek take our magic, I was…”

Silence followed again, and this time it was Discord who looked towards the floor, not needing to hear the continuation. “I was horrified.” “I was betrayed.” “I was enraged.” Lots of options, and they were all equally accurate and equally horrible.

“I was… so scared,” she finally finished.

Discord looked up, surprised. Well, that wasn’t an answer he had considered.

“I thought that Tirek must have gotten to you somehow, or brainwashed you, to make you act in such a way…”

This innocuous explanation was enough to practically twist a knife straight through Discord’s heart. “You have far too much faith in me, my dear,” he muttered, glaring at the floor as if it had wronged him, as if the floor had been the one who had horrifically wronged his dearest friend when it had actually been himself. “My choice in the matter was entirely of my own accord.”

“I… I know,” Fluttershy said softly. “And that made it worse. Because I couldn’t help but think… that maybe, if I’d been more understanding towards you, that you never would have made that choice in the first place.”

Discord looked up at her, feeling his expression harden. “Do not,” he began in a low voice—“Fluttershy, do not try to absolve me of—“

“I’m not,” Fluttershy insisted. “But on the same hoof, don’t try to absolve me either. I messed up. We both did.”

“I think I did more than merely ‘mess up’. But since you’re insisting on continuing this topic, then please, pray tell, how exactly have you messed up? Because quite frankly, it doesn’t compute. At all.” If he had been feeling better he might have conjured up a calculator showing nothing but question marks to accentuate his point, but he was absolutely not in the mood, and that was hard to take because he could count on one hand the times he’d ever not been in the mood for something like that. And all those times involved causing Fluttershy anguish, incidentally…

Fluttershy blinked rapidly a few more times before answering. “Well, I… I’ve been doing a lot of thinking these past few days… even though I didn’t like it… because I kept trying to figure out w-why… why you’d turn on me like you did…”

“Because I was an idiot,” Discord muttered harshly.

“And,” Fluttershy continued, seeming to ignore Discord’s interjection, “I couldn’t help but start thinking that… that I’m not enough for you.”

Discord froze. Almost literally. Every nerve in his body was screaming at the wrongness, the injustice of her conclusion. “Don’t…” he started, stumbling on the words before he could even get them out. “Don’t say—“

“I have to say it,” Fluttershy said, her lower lip trembling, but her gaze with Discord still held firm. “Because I know it’s true. I’m not enough for you. I’ll never be enough for you. I’ll never be everything you need me to be.”

Her words destroyed him. Absolutely destroyed him. He tried, he tried so hard to refute her, because damn it to every circle of hell that existed in this or any other world, she was wrong. She was so wrong. She was everything to him. She absolutely was enough. He loved her, and he knew that he didn’t know anything about love other than… well, other than that it was what he felt about her, but, well, that was enough, wasn’t it?

Except the other part of him knew that she was right, because she had come to the exact same conclusion he had. No, she wasn’t enough. Her friendship, her kindness, her compassion were still not enough to anchor him. Hell, even his loving her didn’t make a lick of difference, because loving her hadn’t prevented him from doing what he’d done. She stood for everything that he, at the very core of his existence, opposed. She was constant and steady and familiar and dammit dammit DAMMIT how had he come to care about her so damned much?!

He cared so much, in fact, that his brain was desperately trying to find some excuse as to why she wasn’t so fundamentally opposite of him, why there was nothing inherently wrong with loving her. How, for example, could she be “constant” if she still had the ability to surprise him? That didn’t imply constancy. Hell, in the long run, there was nothing constant about her very being, in fact! Ponies had such laughably short lifespans. She only had at most seventy, maybe eighty more years if she was exceptionally lucky, and then she’d be gone. Just like a blip. So there was actually no contradiction in him caring for her, because she wasn’t constant at all! She’d be gone before he knew it!

—and WHY DID THIS NOT MAKE HIM FEEL ANY BETTER AT ALL?!

“I… I can’t be your only friend, Discord,” Fluttershy said firmly. “No one should have just one friend. And I should have realized that before. I think maybe I kind of did… but I… ignored it.” Her cheeks flushed with shame and she seemed to try to shrink into herself. “This is… really bad… but I think I kind of got… possessive of you.”

Discord just stared at her, not even sure if he was blinking or not. He simultaneously had nothing to say to that and far too much to say to that.

“I was—I am—proud of being your friend. Maybe too proud. I… I didn’t want to share it.” She looked back down at the ground with a sad sigh. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t feel that way. I realize now that I’m holding you back. It was only natural for you to try to find someone else to be your friend… and maybe if I hadn’t been so clingy, you wouldn’t have looked for friendship in such a… wrong place.”

Why it was that statement that finally set Discord off, he wasn’t exactly sure. Maybe he had just been a ticking time bomb this entire time and would have gone off no matter what she said. But, regardless, the dam had burst. No, not just burst. It had exploded.

“Oh, thank goodness, we’re on the same page!” he cried out, nearly snarling. “So you agree with me that being friends with someone who would backstab you and betray you despite everything you’ve done for him is actually a terrible, HORRENDOUS idea? I’m so glad we had this talk! And now that we’ve reached this conclusion, I really must be going, you know, there are plenty of other bridges to burn!” And he raised his eagle talons in the air, ready to snap himself out of her life forever.

“No, don’t!” Fluttershy shrieked, bolting into the air and grabbing his hands before he even realized what was happening. “Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go,” she babbled, tears spilling out of her eyes.

It would have actually been almost funny how she expected that just a plea would stop him, the near omnipotent lord of chaos, from doing whatever he wanted.

Would have been, anyway, because in actuality, it did.

It always would.

Discord lowered his arm, and Fluttershy let out a shaky exhale of relief, but the tears continued to flow from her eyes, and it was too much. It was just too much.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m sorry, Fluttershy. For everything.”

“I know,” she sobbed.

“I’m sorry for putting everyone’s lives at risk just out of some misguided attempt for glory. I’m sorry for causing you so much agony. I’m sorry for being stupid enough to think that you were replaceable.” He harshly turned away from her, unable to bear being witness to her tears again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and I will spend eternity having to contend with what I’ve done to you.”

He harshly closed his eyes, even though he was still looking away from her, because he couldn’t risk looking back at her for even a second. Even as he heard her tears subside, he still averted his gaze.

After a long while, she finally spoke, in a whisper that still filled the room. “Discord…”

His eyelids creaked open, unable to ignore her even if it probably would have been for the best.

She was looking at him fully, her eyes wide and full of compassion. “I know you’re sorry, and I forgive you, but…”

Oh, thank goodness. Her forgiveness came with a condition. Perhaps she was finally being sensible after all.

“…but you haven’t forgiven yourself, have you?”

And the dam exploded again, but this time, it was from water, not ire.

He wept. Openly, loudly, brazenly. She had laid him as bare as he’d ever known, had unleashed a remorse in him that he’d never realized he could express in such a manner, and he crumpled like a rag.

And even then, he wasn’t doing it alone, because in an instant Fluttershy’s arms were around him again, hugging him tightly and comfortingly. “It’s okay,” she murmured as he continued to sob, “it’s okay… I’m here…”

Before he knew what he was doing, he had wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face into her mane in an attempt to quell his tears. And to an extent it was working, because he marveled at how perfectly she seemed to meld against him, but then he remembered that she shouldn’t, she shouldn’t and he had never deserved her kindness and never would, and he just cried harder.

“Shhh…” It came from her not unlike a quiet, flowing stream through a forest. “I’m here…” She kissed the side of his face, lightly. He’d seen her use the same tactic on distressed animals before. It was so instinctual that she probably hadn’t even noticed that she’d done it, in fact. She was so gentle, so kind…

“Fluttershy,” he finally managed to say through his sobs, and he tried to say something else, but nothing came, and he just held her more tightly and pressed his muzzle even deeper into her mane.

“It’s okay,” she murmured again. “I’ve got you.”

He gripped her, ever closer.

“I’ve got you,” she repeated. “I’m not giving up on you. Not now, not ever.”

Discord took a few shaky breaths against her mane to try to steady himself. And a few more. The tears that had caught him so off-guard were finally starting to subside, but he found that he was incredibly loath to tear himself away from her just yet. “But what if I do this again?” he squeaked out.

Fluttershy shook her head, causing the mane that was still wrapped around Discord’s face to rustle against him like fresh spring grass on a windy day. “You won’t. I know you won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” Discord insisted. “I don’t know that. I’m chaos, I’m unpredictable—“

Fluttershy cupped a hoof under Discord’s chin and pulled his face out of her mane, causing their eyes to meet again. She smiled through the last traces of her tears. “I have enough faith in you for both of us.”

Discord sighed harshly at that. Her compassion was almost overwhelming, but more than that it felt incredibly ill-advised. “Need I remind you what I’ve already put you through?”

“Everyone learns from their mistakes, Discord, even you.” She stroked his cheek reassuringly. “And I can see just how much you regret this. That’s how I know that you’ll never do it again.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed a warm pink. “Well… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m usually right when it comes to you.”

Discord finally smiled again too at that, affectionately pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes. “Well then, dearest Fluttershy, I’d hate to cause you to have egg on your face, so I intend to do everything in my power to insure that you continue to be right.”

He felt her giggle lightly again and lean into him. “I will too. I’ll be a better friend to you. I promise.”

“Being a better friend than you already are would be impossible,” Discord murmured, running his talons through her mane.

She remained still for a moment, allowing him to stroke her mane for a few seconds, before pulling away and giving him an affectionate, if rather fatigued, smile. She flew down to sit by his side and wearily leaned against him, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

Discord sighed too, wrapping his lion arm around her and taking comfort in her breaths’ steady rhythm. Even if—when—he did make more close friends, he already knew that none would be as precious to him as she was. And to think he’d nearly come to that realization too late. With any other pony it probably would have been too late… but Fluttershy, dear, precious Fluttershy was still ready to give him another chance.

He swore to himself that he wasn’t going to screw this one up.

“I’d like to be…” he found himself singing softly. Fluttershy looked up at him, curious. And Discord just shrugged and smiled, figuring he might as well continue the song for her, because its words were true.

So he held out his eagle hand and swirled it around, causing a small ocean wave to appear above it, breaking and crashing on a nonexistent shore. “Under the sea…”

He swirled again, turning the waves into an octopus tentacle, as tiny, beautiful anemones popped up all around it. “In an octopus’s garden…”

With one last wave, the vision dissolved into bubbles that floated up and away. “With you.” He lightly tapped her nose.

Fluttershy smiled warmly. “Let’s go there, then.”

“Right now?”

Still smiling, she nodded.

Discord beamed back at her, giving her shoulders an affectionate squeeze before snapping his talons and whisking them away to their little hideaway beneath the waves.