“No, absolutely not!” Chrysalis snarls, veering back from the open door.

“Come now, my sweet prissy Chryssy, is that any way to treat a dear old friend?” Discord replies, sounding wounded, an arrow through his chest. “To think that we could be reduced to this! And we were the top of our class together in Villains U!”

He pulls out a tattered yearbook and opens it to a photograph that shows Discord and Chrysalis standing together. He’s smirking and wearing a black and purple sweater over an exaggeratedly top-heavy physique. She’s flashing an awkward smile full of braces, her mane tied in pigtails. The quality of the picture is dubiously uncanny, the lighting coming from random directions, and Chrysalis’s fingers look like they’re broken. She would tear the thing to pieces if she weren’t deprived of her magic, if she weren’t preoccupied with holding a half-dozen boxes of pizza that will come out of her paycheck if they don’t get to the customer.

“I don’t care what kind of game you’re playing, vile serpent!” she hisses at him, “I wouldn’t be stuck doing these chores if it weren’t for you, and you have the nerve to show your face to me?!”

“I seem to recall you were the one who knocked on the door, my deposed friend,” the draconequus replies with a nasally articulation on every syllable, pushing up a pair of thick spectacles on his elongated face. “Why it would have been rude of me not to answer, especially since the lady of the house is presently occupied with preparing our hors d’oeuvres.”

And then a mare’s voice comes quietly fluttering in from the building’s interior: “Discord, is everything alright?”

“Yeeees, my dear!” he replies, twisting around and over as he turns backward, “I was just speaking to the delivery bug! She’s quite the handful if you know what I mean!” Another twist to face back toward Chrysalis, upside-down, and his bushy eyebrows waggle rapidly. Chrysalis growls and grimaces.

“Oh, let her come inside! We should thank her properly!”

“Really now?” Discord rights himself, and he strokes his goatee.

“I’m good, just take your damn food and I’ll go,” Chrysalis grumbles, bringing the stack forward, trying to extend them as far ahead of herself as possible, anything to keep him away from her bosom.

“Please, my dear, it won’t take a minute,” he insists with a far-too-bright smile, “the customer is always right, you know, so you’d better do as she says!”

“I’ve got a schedule to keep and you’re already—Gah!” The changeling yelps when she feels something paw-shaped push into her rump. She stumbles, her balance so precarious to begin with, and she might have fallen over if her breasts didn’t wedge in the doorway and catch her. “Ugh, fine,” she grouses before she pushes and shoves the rest of the way through.

And then, the instant both of her hooves are over the cottage’s threshold, another sound comes from the interior, a great commotion of a loud thud, clattering dishware, and a high-pitched squeak. “D-D-Discord!”

A pang of alarm rushes through Chrysalis like a surge of adrenaline. Something terribly wrong is happening. She just knows that she’ll get blamed for it. But she can’t just run away while she’s carrying these damn pizzas. Or while she has to squeeze back through the doorway all over again.

Yet Discord just taps his fingers together and calmly responds, “Yeeees, my dear?”

Then Fluttershy emerges from around the corner, staggering awkwardly and unsteadily. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that Fluttershy’s breasts emerge first, a shelf jutting ahead of her, enormous globes filling her green sweater. She futilely heaves them in her arms, spilling out of her grasp, and she looks at Discord in bewilderment and alarm. Then she notices Chrysalis, and she flinches momentarily, and just briefly the changeling can take some satisfaction in her ability to intimidate, but then her visage shifts, her posture straightening. “Oh, I see,” she says with a sigh, “Discord, do you really have to do this every time?”

“But of course I do, my little flying-horse,” he replies as he sidles up to her, wings buzzing, “I wouldn’t want you to feel left out!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Chrysalis asks, “Fluttershy isn’t supposed to be nearly this endowed.”

“No, not normally,” Discord says, and his tail stretches and whips out and lashes onto something, pulling back and rolling over a chalkboard, “but I didn’t want my precious Fluttershy to feel inadequate around mares larger than her, so I made it so that she would grow to match anyone who enters her home!” Crude stick figures manifest on the chalkboard, vague approximations of Fluttershy and Discord inside a cartoon house, with an angry-faced and large-breasted Chrysalis outside. When stick-Chrysalis comes inside, stick-Fluttershy suddenly develops her own bosom-circles.

The real Chrysalis sneers, but it still doesn’t disgust her as much as that photograph did.

Fluttershy doesn’t say anything to refute this, her ears folding back while she still clutches her chest, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“How are you not the one stuck doing odd jobs?” Chrysalis demands.

“I already went through my redemption arc, now I’m a ‘lovable scamp’ and all my actions can be categorized under ‘wacky hijinks,’” he replies, sticking out his tongue while he leans down to nuzzle Fluttershy, “you should have taken the high road while you had the chance, now you’re just going to have to wait six more seasons.”

She groans at the idea of a year and a half of this tedium.

Author's Note

Originally written 2/9/25

I thought Chrysalis and Discord interacting would be funny and then Fluttershy got involved.

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