Discord's Wet 'n Wild Family Reunion

by Jadu

First published

Every year, hybrids and creatures with chaotic hearts are drawn together in the Everfree Forest by their patriarch to take part in an evening of rowdiness and potential debauchery. This year after Discord's reformation, things don't go as p

Every year, hybrids and creatures with chaotic hearts are drawn together in the Everfree Forest by their patriarch to take part in an evening of rowdiness and potential debauchery. This year after Discord's reformation, however, things don't exactly go as planned. But with the God of Chaos involved, does anything really go according to a plan?

Inspired completely by the cover art, which came from Lumdrop on deviantArt. Used with permission.

Rated teen for drunken carousing and some suggestive dialogue.

No Secrets are Secrets in a Family, You Know

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All was not calm in the Everfree Forest tonight.

One could be the least magically attuned creature in Equestria and they could still smell the disturbance hanging in the air. A concentration of magic, enchantment of the darkest kind, was clustering in the very heart of the forest as the clock ticked ever forward into the wee hours. There was no need to fear this disturbance, however; the gathering had a benevolent purpose.

There was going to be a party. A raucous rave of a celebration, but nevertheless a party.

The faint hum of wings filled the air as at least two dozen changelings and parasprites made their way to the clearing and laid eyes on the sumptuous feast spread over makeshift tables fashioned from tree stumps. They were the first to arrive, much to what soon would be the chagrin of the other guests. Anyone who knew the first thing about party planning knew that if one was crazy enough to invite parasprites, it was best only to invite as many as could be counted on the toes of four paws. As they devoured every speck of food they could lay their multifaceted eyes on, they’d belch more of their friends anyway.

Queen Chrysalis stepped out into the clearing behind her small entourage of changelings, who were now zipping around and trying to knock each other out of flight if they weren’t mashing themselves face-first into the upside-down cake on the large banquet table. She was the ruler of a displaced nation, having been booted from Equestria proper after the royal wedding debacle. No one knew where she was now housing her enormous drone colony, but it was a fair guess that she’d had to come a long way and thus was very irritable. She glared ferociously at a particularly rambunctious changeling and trapped him midair with her sickly green magic, dragging him to her.

“Behave yourself!” she hissed. “We need to make a good impression at this party, do you understand?” The changeling nodded, forelegs drawn up to its seedy chest in a pleading pose. “Then again…” Chrysalis put an ashen hoof to her chin, thinking. “Go ahead. Make chaos and revelry tonight. We ought to indulge!”

She released the changeling, who proceeded to stagger to its hooves and saunter over to a friend. Deciding it wasn’t moving fast enough, Chrysalis zapped the changeling sharply in the butt to make it squeal and gallop on its merry way. Yes, her group needed to present themselves as the epitome of party guests tonight if the queen were to have any hope of relocating her colony with any permanence. As much as she loathed the majority of creatures that events like these would draw, they were the ones most likely to be sympathetic to her cause and lend a helping hoof…paw…claw…whatever appendage they had to off—

“YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Oh Tartarus, no,” Chrysalis moaned, flattening her ears to her skull. In less than two seconds’ time she found herself squished tightly against the hairy and well-muscled chest of a dark blue Minotaur, who was bellowing in excitement along with several others who’d charged out of the bushes.

“Iron Will is so happy to see you!” he crowed to Chrysalis, who was now struggling to get out of his strong embrace. Not that she really minded, of course; it was nice to feel a male of any species with some muscle on his bones for a change.

“Yes, yes!” she strained, putting her hooves on her chest so she could lean back to look up into Iron Will’s face. “It’s been a—ungh—long time since we last—ohh—saw each other, hasn’t it?”

“Iron Will believes it has been at least a year since the last time!”

Chrysalis flattened her ears in distaste. “That was a joke. This reunion happens every year, you dolt.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Willy. You know I don’t mean—WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!” she roared at three changelings, who were doubled over and giggling at the sight of their ruler playing the role of an apologetic, flirtatious maiden. Or at least they thought she was playing. They hoped she was playing.

Next came the local pack of Timberwolves, their wooden paws clunking along on the soft ground of the clearing. They weren’t much for chatter, but they sure could howl and rouse up any party they showed up to, provided the guests weren’t terrified out of their wits by the mere sight of them. Most of the Timberwolves settled down around what would soon be the fire pit, though not daring to get too close should Chrysalis start a blaze in her growing irritation. One of them initiated a sort of mute conversation with a couple parasprites and a changeling, telling a joke through gesture.

Music kicked in from an old record player hidden in the bushes, and Iron Will promptly dropped Queen Chrysalis and rushed over to dance. Someone had managed to procure more recent songs on vinyl, so the music spinning out was full of throbbing, sledgehammer beats and soaring synthesizer trills. The minotaur stomped in time to the beat along with his bullish buddies and a pair of changelings, one of whom had broken into the stash of heart’s desire wine early and already had become quite intoxicated. Tiring of dancing within a minute or so, the impaired changeling stumbled off to the bushes clutching a bottle in one hoof, squawking unintelligibly to no one in particular.

“What a lame party,” Gilda muttered, having been weaseled out of the bushes by the aforementioned drunk changeling. Gryphons liked to carouse just as much as the next creature, but the sullen teen was here merely to have something to do besides hang out around Cloudsdale all night. Didn’t hurt that she, like many of the other guests, was a species of mixed origin, either. She immediately occupied a comfy high-backed chair that evidently had been summoned for someone else and began picking at her talons haughtily. The cockatrice which had just shown up took it upon itself to sneak up behind Gilda in an attempt to stun her, but the gryphon was one step ahead. Without glancing over her shoulder, she whipped out a hand mirror and held it with her lion’s tail out to the side. Upon seeing its reflection, the cockatrice gulped and squawked in alarm before turning to stone and falling with a small thud.

“Idiot.”

“That’s not a very respectful way to talk to your elders.”

“Psh! You and what—” Gilda froze as she saw Princess Celestia towering over her chair, and she immediately changed her tune. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Princess Celestia, I didn’t mean it! Here, was this chair meant for y—”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Chrysalis barked and rolled her eyes, the Celestia mirage molting off her ash-gray body. “I only meant to scare you for a laugh.” She offered a hoof to Gilda. “Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings.”

“Gilda, er, of the Gryphons,” Gilda reciprocated, her eyebrow quirked as she grasped Chrysalis’ proffered hoof with her eagle’s claw and shook with trepidation.

“GRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWK!” was what screeched from the trees, which caused any foolhardy birds who’d remained in the area to scatter into the darkening sky. The Hydra stomped out of the forest, with one head looking particularly annoyed at the cacophony his fellow heads were creating. Indeed, they’d set the Timberwolves howling, which in turn set the minotaurs bellowing and the parasprites dancing around like hyperactive dust particles. After the other two heads had finished obnoxiously announcing their arrival, the more sensible of the three gestured toward one of the rock piles that framed the clearing, and it was against this that the Hydra decided to settle for the party. One of the minotaurs offered up a barrel of cider, which the Hydra took thankfully, wrenched the top off with its teeth and swigged down in one satisfied gulp.

“Please tell me that’s the only big boy here,” Gilda mumbled to Chrysalis, her lion’s feet twitching in fear.

“I’m afraid not,” replied Chrysalis coolly, levitating some type of burbling purple drink in a cocktail glass to her lips. She took a long draw of the liquid before speaking again. “Would you like to try some? It’s made from the essence of gryphon’s tail and…” The Queen had trailed off upon seeing the scandalized look on Gilda’s face.

“IT’S A KIND OF PLANT!” she roared at Gilda’s hastily retreating and offended backside. She drank again, mumbling, “Stupid mixed breed.”

During all of this, a dragon had turned up at the party and settled next to the rock pile directly across from the Hydra, who was now on his sixth barrel of cider. More than one dragon at what was supposed to be a somewhat clandestine gathering would be a dead giveaway, so the nearby clan had sent just one representative to the gathering. This specimen was a green one with orange ridges down its neck and back, and of indeterminable sex or age. Nevertheless, the look of sheer contempt in its eyes was undeniably sinister as it gazed over the party, leading some of the guests to wonder whether or not the dragon was going to eat them all as its midnight snack. It was more so that it’d left its hoard of jewels in the care of some idiotic teenage dragons just so it could attend this function.

A bulky red minotaur trotted up to the dragon and knocked on its scales. “Hey, hey, big fella! You want a beer?” To that, the minotaur held up an entire keg of aged Appleoosan brew. The dragon shook its head politely and held a claw up as a sign of refusal. A drunken draconian guest—hay, even a buzzed one—was the last thing this party needed.

Despite all the mingling and mild intoxication that was going on, some of the guests were wondering what exactly the point of the gathering was supposed to be. Queen Chrysalis hadn’t told her changeling entourage what was really happening, and Iron Will and his minotaur buddies were like the quintessential frat boys of Equestria, always looking for an excuse to party. Gilda had managed to find a non-alcoholic drink that didn’t turn her stomach—she didn’t need to be “cool” all the time—and was now staring at the bottom of her third glass, wondering when this lingering sense of anticipation that surrounded would go away. There was a raised platform much smaller than a performance stage, swept clean and set up at the end of the clearing by the rock piles, but who or what exactly were they waiting for?

As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait too much longer for an answer. A blinding white flash burst from nowhere on the platform, and when the guests were able to see what had happened, what they saw made them burst out into raucous laughter and cheering.

Their party host and patriarch had arrived: Discord.

“Thank you everyone! Thank you, thank you!” the draconequus exclaimed, blowing kisses to the crowd and waving. He jumped a little when a massive tongue of flame burst out behind him. “Ooh, hellfire! Very nice, thank you,” he nodded to the dragon, whose pearly incisors were on display in a cheeky grin. “You are all so kind. Now, where are Manchester and Cere? I expected they’d show up—” At that moment, the manticore in question strutted into the clearing, followed by a gigantic lumbering ebony canine with three heads. The Hydra looked down at Cerberus in shock, who in turn looked up at the Hydra and growled threateningly until Manchester tugged gently on his thick chain leash.

“I apologize profusely for our delay, Discord, but collecting Cere from Tartarus turned out a bit more, ah, complicated than I’d hoped,” Manchester relayed in a distinct Trottingham accent, pressing a paw to his furry chest.

“No trouble at all, Manny. I knew you’d make it,” Discord beamed. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes!

“Welcome one and all to what has come to be called…my family reunion. Whether chaos pulses through your veins and soul, or you, like myself, are of mixed or uncertain animal descent, I welcome you warmly to my family!” Discord raised his arms to the sky to much louder cheering and hollering than before.

A changeling dropped a jumbled and colorful wreath of flowers around the draconequus’ neck, and another came up behind him, holding a chair and struggling to hover in midair. “Oh that’s quite all right, dear, I can draw up a seat,” he whispered, shooing the changeling off. At that, a ballpoint pen appeared in Discord’s paw, and he scribbled furiously in midair for a few seconds before wiping the sweat from his brow and collapsing on the lines, which formed instantly into his trademark antlered throne.

“Ah, much better.”

“Excuse me!” a strident voice called out. All of the guests turned to look at its source, and Discord craned his neck to see. Gilda flushed in embarrassment for a moment, then continued. “What exactly is the point of this party? Seems pretty lame to me!”

Discord shook his head, drumming his claws against the arm of his throne. “Hmph, gryphons. Always want to know how everything comes back to them, how it benefits them. But that’s how I made them; this world needed a little egotism to counterbalance those ponies,” he said with a halfhearted sneer.

“What are you saying?” Gilda asked, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean, ‘when you made them’?”

“My dear—Gilda, is it?—nearly every creature you see in front of you at this gathering has ancestors who were, in some part, created by me. Anything that is a mishmash of species—”

“I am so NOT a mishmash!”

“You’re a lion and eagle mix. In what possible circumstances would those two creatures ever be mated?” Discord shot back, and some of the guests sniggered to Gilda’s further embarrassment. “Be thankful you’re one of the more normal-looking ones. Some of my original designs had the rear ends of ponies.” Louder laughter ensued at the implication.
“I—”

“Don’t take it harshly, Gilda. Manchester here is a lion, a scorpion and a dragon all thrown into a magical blender!”

“It’s true,” the manticore nodded and he flicked his scorpion tail. “But it’s all for the sake of power. I could just be a lion, of course, but a lion that can fly and shoot poison is even better!”

“And the cockatrice,” Discord continued, “is a chicken mixed with a dragon. I like dragons, can you tell?” The dragon to his right growled with enthusiasm. “By the way, where is that pesky little thing? I know I planted a flock of them in this forest a few generations ago.”

“I stunned him with a mirror,” Gilda deadpanned.

Discord stared at the teen gryphon in mock horror, then burst out laughing. “Oh my, I’ve never even thought of doing that! And I didn’t infuse a lot of wit into gryphons as it is—”

“What?!”

“I’m the father of many hybrids, dear Gilda. Gryphons were among the first, and although I did give them high sentiency, I more or less kept the bird brains.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“I’m not calling you stupid, just that your race’s intelligence needed to be decreased so the ego could fit.”

“THAT’S IT!” Gilda shouted, taking to the skies. “I’ve had enough of this lame party, and I don’t have to stand here all night and be insulted! I’m going home!” With that, she flapped off in the general direction of Cloudsdale, while Discord’s ruby irises stared after her.

“The sad thing is she’ll never grow out of that phase,” he muttered loud enough for the remaining guests to hear. They tittered with laughter again, and Discord summoned a bubbly pink beverage with a straw and umbrella to his lion’s paw.

“So…how’s everyone doing?” the draconequus asked casually as he crossed one mismatched leg over the other.

“Iron Will is actually more curious about how you got here!” Iron Will bellowed drunkenly, and the rest of the minotaurs hollered in agreement.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Well, Discord, normally we have to drag you away from the palace, if you know what I mean,” Chrysalis responded.

“Yes,” Manchester chimed in. “In past years for past reunions, we had to elect a party of responsible and quiet”—here he cut a glance at the carousing minotaurs—“individuals to find your statue, bring it back here without any incident, and feed you enough magic to stimulate your own so you could break out of the stone. Then one of us had to be the designated magician—usually Chrysalis—and turn you back into stone, and the rest of us who brought you here had to be sober enough to put you back in place without anyone noticing.”

“But this year, Iron Will received an announcement saying no retrieval would be required!” The other guests nodded except for the changelings, who looked at one other with baffled expressions.

“Ahem, yes, excuse me, but we didn’t get any announcement—” one of the changelings ventured with a raised hoof.

“Quiet, you louse!” Chrysalis hissed as she zapped that particular charge in the hindquarters.

“Ah yes, well, you see, I was hoping to explain a bit about that…” Discord mumbled, blushing behind his gray muzzle.

“We already know.”

“Oh, do you now?”

“Yeah, you’re shackin’ up with the princesses!” one of Iron Will’s buddies blurted, and everyone at the party started laughing. Even the Hydra and Cerberus, who had stayed relatively quiet up to this point, let loose roars of amusement that threatened to topple the rock piles they leaned against, and the Timberwolves howled so loud they had probably awakened any creature within a 10-mile radius. One could swear that the poor cockatrice who still lay stoned upon the grass was shaking somewhere inside with mirth.

“Hey now, hey! That’s not it at all, I’ve been reformed!” Discord shouted. After all, this was supposed to be a chaotic reunion, but kept as furtive as possible. “BE QUIET!”

Everyone fell silent.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself and now you’re mocking me!” the draconequus said, visibly trembling.

“Why do you need to explain yourself? You’re Discord, explanations go against your nature!” the sentient changeling from before spoke.

“I make my own rules. What I want to explain, I shall,” Discord retorted.

“Ooh, look who’s acting all huffy now, Gilda,” the changeling mocked.

“Zip it!” Chrysalis screeched, seizing the changeling with her magic and literally zipping its mouth shut. “Go ahead, Dizzy,” she cooed to the draconequus seductively.

“Ugh, don’t you have enough drones for your hive?” Discord snapped.

“What? I’m an alicorn just like she is!”

“Ooooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” the whole party chimed in like an elementary school classroom full of foals.

“I knew it!” the minotaur from earlier yelled.

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about,” grumped Discord, crossing his arms and looking at everyone with haughtiness before turning to the back of his throne.

“Oh come on,” Chrysalis said matter-of-factly. “Like we haven’t seen the signs. You’re drinking cherry-flavored lemon-lime soda right now, and it’s pink. You have this near-obsessive fascination with cotton candy, and that more often than not is pink. And whenever I had to freeze you to stone again, you always had to assume this ridiculous pose like you were serenading her, and the ones who hauled you back had to position you just so, facing her balcony on the castle!”

The sentient changeling from before had managed somehow to unzip his mouth and was now leading the other changelings and the parasprites in a chant. “Celestia and Discord, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-ARGHABARGLAAAAAAAAACK!” the changeling garbled as Chrysalis seized him and zipped his mouth shut again. But by this time, the whole party was chanting it, and those who couldn’t speak added some kind of noise to the cacophony by stamping their feet or gnashing their teeth or likewise. Surely all of Equestria was awake by now with all the din this chaotic creatures were making.

“HEY! STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT N—oh, what’s the point? I’m going home, too,” Discord muttered, snapping his fingers and vanishing amidst all the insanity. He reappeared in Canterlot in a flash on Luna’s balcony, and he stalked into her room. Luna was intently focused on mashing the buttons on her game controller to blow up buildings on the massive high-definition television mounted on the wall. Evidently she wasn’t too wrapped up in her game to not notice Discord walk in, and she levitated a big bowl of popcorn toward him.

“Hey, Discord, you want some pop—”

“I AM IN NO MOOD!” he growled, and with a flip of his wrist, he succeeded in dumping the entire bowl of popcorn all over the princess’ head and completely distracted her from the game. He shoved open her chamber doors with a bang, stomped through the castle to the other side, and banged open the wide white double doors emblazoned with sunbursts once he reached them.

“Discord!” Celestia cried, sitting bolt upright in bed and raising her lavender sleep mask. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m going to bed,” Discord replied simply, turning back the covers and crawling into the princess’ plush bed.

“But you have your own chambers—”

“I just want to sleep here tonight, okay?”

Celestia raised her eyebrow as Discord fluffed the pillow and laid on his side facing away from her with a huff. She shrugged and snuggled up close behind him, her muzzle resting on his long furry neck.

“Did your meeting not go very well?”

“I really, really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

“All right, all right,” Celestia soothingly replied, kissing his ear and nuzzling in closer. “Good night, Dizzy.”

And Celestia and Discord fell asleep together, a smile playing on the draconequus’ mouth.