Another shouting match over lunch, another dish tossed to the floor by a repulsed child. Another day spent struggling against obstinacy that Twilight Velvet simply didn’t understand.
Where the little girl had learned it, she could only guess. What might have been small daily problems, solved by a tender word of correction or explanation, invariably blew up in the poor woman’s face, and, too often, turned into power struggles.
Sometimes mothers and daughters just didn’t click, she guessed.
Venting to Nightlight seemed to get them nowhere. It wasn’t that he didn’t support her. He’d been a kind and understanding spouse, talked seriously with their daughter, given the child well-reasoned consequences for her misbehavior, but, in the end, things always went back to the way they’d been. A few days of quiet obedience ended with more shrill whining, yelling, arguing, and, sometimes, outright violence from the daughter toward the brokenhearted mother. It usually happened when it was just the two of them. When Shining was home, the little girl was usually occupied, and, when Nightlight was home, she behaved almost perfectly.
For the abundance of love that Twilight Velvet felt for her daughter, she couldn’t deny that Twilight Sparkle was a quintessential problem child.
Months that felt like years passed, and, from terrible twos, the terror only grew. With each argument, Velvet grew more tired. With each tired day, Velvet had less to give of herself to Nightlight, and, soon, to both their dismay, their romance and their sex life dwindled.
Fine, Velvet thought. Eventually the tempestuous child might be willing to learn obedience from somebody else if nothing she tried as a parent worked, and, if not, then she’d at least eventually become somebody else’s unholy problem once she started school. She clung patiently to the hope. If only it hadn’t been in vain.
At four years old Twilight Sparkle entered the much-anticipated first year of her education, magic kindergarten. At the end of the first day, the girl’s teacher had been polite enough to appear apologetic as she explained that little Twiley had thrown crayons and hit other children with her fists. She’d been given several time-outs only to kick and scream throughout each of them. Velvet listened patiently, but she knew exactly what had happened before it was told to her—what always happened.
Several weeks passed in like manner, and Twiley had received multiple suspensions and, finally, been threatened with expulsion.
The night after begging the school for one more chance, the woman said nothing to her husband, faced away from Nightlight in bed, and hid hopeless tears as she cried herself to sleep.
Morning came too early the next day. With Nightlight gone to work and Shining off at school, Velvet and the daughter she used to fondly call her little Sparkle were once again left alone together.
Velvet looked from the entry to the children’s play room at her daughter as she held a small tea party. The little girl noted her presence, but didn’t look back until her mother finally approached her. Velvet took her seat at an open space next to one of the girl’s dolls. “Twiley,” Velvet ventured, her voice soft.
The girl frowned. She knew the trouble she was in despite getting off easy yesterday, her mother having failed to mention her newest, and lengthiest to-date, five-day suspension to her father. Still, there'd be plenty of time for punishment and scolding each day. Right now, her mom's tone sounded as though she was about to try boring her with another heart-to-heart talk. She knew this game like the back of her hand. She would win it now just like every other time. The little girl readily tuned her out and went back to playing with her dolls.
Twilight Velvet sighed sadly, and her eyes shimmered softly. Already, it was hopeless, she recognized. She'd spent her will to be patient so long ago. The young mother felt raw, beaten, and lonely, but, worst of all, trapped. In her weaker moments, she imagined revenge and relief, and, shuddering as she thought about it now, she longed for power over the impudent child.
For years, she’d fought the repulsive urges, wanted more than anything for her daughter to grow up happy in spite of the darkness she herself suffered. Her hope to raise the girl right depended now on the impossible task of disciplining her. What hadn't she tried already?!
Velvet agonized, yet, as desperation suffocated her for the thousandth time, realization slowly dawned on her. There was still something she hadn't tried—the one thing she'd never try but for sheer insanity, if she knew that failure were imminent and the risk of failing worse didn't matter. Had she reached that point? Was she ready to sacrifice her daughter's innocence?
Resolve formed in the woman. Maybe her daughter didn't know the damage she was doing to their lives—maybe—but nothing else had worked! Soon enough, the girl could wind up losing more than just her innocence. She didn't have to lose it her mother's way, after all. In a detention center she would lose it other ways, possibly worse ways.
No! Velvet wouldn't accept it. There was no other reasonable option but to follow the instincts that she, as a mother, knew weren't looked kindly upon by others, yet, perhaps, were the answer nonetheless.
Knowing that she'd done everything but entertain her urges, a manic relief seeped through her. Now—finally—Velvet determined, it was time to let go.
What tearing, painful excitement unexpectedly clawed at the gentle woman at that thought was beyond anything she could recall. Her heartbeat quickened, and she almost panicked. Despite having considered it seriously from her daughter's second birthday, she felt unprepared. Despite how much she'd wanted that kind of power ever since her own adolescence, now, Twilight Velvet felt every one of her nerves on end.
It almost certainly wasn’t going to go how she'd always dreamed, softly, peacefully, full of care and kind words. Velvet had tried everything in her power to grow closer to her daughter, but, now, there was no more time, not just for their relationship, Velvet decided. There was almost no more time for anything worthwhile in life.
As soon as her little girl returned to school and acted out again, it would mean expulsion and the stress and shame of shuffling her among other schools. When that failed, either the impossible challenge of home schooling followed, or else sending her to a center for troubled youths. It meant her little Sparkle would live with rejection, their family met with scandal, and, Velvet feared most, with the way she and Nightlight had been growing apart, it would mean the end of her marriage—the end of love.
Still doubting the course she was about to take, she reminded herself that none of the likely solutions had worked to fix the problem. Though an unlikely solution was even more unlikely to fix her situation, at least, thought Twilight Velvet, she would end it all on her terms.
No more anxiety. No more pleading. No more arguing. Though sexually starved and powerless, Twilight Velvet was certain she’d soon have relief.
Swallowing, Velvet closed her eyes and focused on calming herself. Every other effort will be useless, she told herself. Why delay the inevitable? Face it head on, fiercely.
No. Not fiercely, she countered herself, at least not yet—but boldly, yes. No need to spend all her energy at once, she reasoned. Make it last.
Rather than kick and scream, she was going to go willingly to hell. She may as well relish the fall.
Derangement settled in her, and Twilight Velvet smiled at her daughter.
Dusk Shine had been a kind and thorough father, awakened Twilight Velvet to both pleasure and pain she'd never forgotten and, with time, drawn her into the fetishism she'd missed since his passing.
Velvet reminisced about her past while Twilight Sparkle warned, shouted, growled, flailed. Unrelenting, the mother steadily encroached upon her daughter's personal space until she was close enough to push the girl off balance, firmly yet carefully, calculatedly, and Twilight Sparkle fell easily from her seat to the floor.
Much of what she had done with her father when she was very little had made her uncomfortable at the time, but Velvet had been an obedient child. Well—she corrected herself, reminiscing—of course, she hadn't always been obedient. She'd been a bit of a brat before it all started, actually. Was she ever as bad as Twilight Sparkle, though? She honestly couldn't judge, but it made sense, she thought, probably served her right, now, after being a pain as a girl herself.
The moment Velvet lowered herself to the floor within range of her outraged daughter, leaning toward the girl, Twilight Sparkle struck her squarely in the nose. Velvet flinched, and her eyes and nose leaked. The sensation stirred up old memories. I deserve it this time too, she thought. The last time she'd been struck there with such genuine passion felt like it had been so long ago. Pleasant tingling in her spine caused her to shudder momentarily. It just wasn't the same with Nightlight, never spontaneous, always hesitant even though she requested it.
Velvet laughed in spite of the pain, at how funny it was that she'd cried and suffered so long as a good young mother, denying herself this, just to wind up here in the end anyway. She'd thought she could run from eternity, from the torment that awaited her. In reality, she'd only been delaying the inevitable. Now, she soared freely toward her fate, unfettered by any delusion that she could be a “good” person. It was the most exhilarating feeling she thought possible, at least for a soul like hers.
Velvet smiled, teary-eyed at the four-year-old who stopped, uncertain about the laughter and her mother's generally unexpected reaction. This wasn't the game she was used to playing. Was the woman trying to roughhouse with her—to distract her from her playtime to instead do something boring or annoying? Velvet leaned forward again on one hand to support herself while, with the other hand, she reached for little Twiley, too fast to give the girl time to escape as she made the attempt.
Foolishly, the woman left herself open for a second blow, and, turning about, Twilight Sparkle shoved a small palm into her face roughly. Velvet shut her eyes reflexively, yet, despite the mild discomfort, her smile remained. The hand she laid on her daughter's waist dragged her easily to the ground toward her, and the parent's strong, gentle arms wrapped around her snugly. Finally, Velvet rolled so that the little girl lay on top of her, too close to strike again easily.
Undaunted, Twilight Sparkle grabbed fistfuls of hair and yanked as hard as four-year-old arms and fingers would allow. A number of light purple strands broke, and the woman couldn't help but wince and softly exclaim her pain for a couple of seconds until the worst of it passed. It was a small victory for the daughter, but not enough to help her get away.
Still trapped, Twilight Sparkle didn't relent, kicking Velvet's pelvis, kneeing and squirming against her torso, pulling more hair, and, with every third or fourth inhalation, belting out her most ear-piercing, consecutive shrieks. Twiley spared no effort to make the woman let go, to cause her pain, to win her stupid game. Meanwhile, Twilight Velvet received it all for payment.
It would be too easy to use magic now to still the little child as she had in past, dire situations. Though she had never liked to use it on her daughter, Twilight Velvet excelled at techniques of bodily manipulation. What she liked to do to her daughter had changed suddenly and drastically in the last five minutes, but that didn't matter now.
Today, Twilight Velvet would do all she could to avoid magic until her son and husband returned home. From the moment she'd decided how to handle their desperate situation, Twilight Velvet knew, only the most primeval methods ought to be used to handle such an unsolvable conflict. Magic was far too refined a device, even if its implementation was simple for something so base. For the task at hand, magic simply wasn't an option, no matter how useful it might be.
Every abuse the girl could throw at her, for once, the mother let fall rather than shield herself or seek to control the child, except to prevent her escape. In light of her immediate plans, Velvet finally made peace with all of Twilight Sparkle's tempestuous fits, with every shriek, scratch, and projectile she'd hurled against her. One more tantrum right now, however painful, would be less than Velvet knew she deserved as punishment after what would come next.
Five long minutes passed, and, though sure that her hearing was damaged and aching from a well placed knee to one ovary, Twilight Velvet still held the child. Gradually, the little girl's energetic flailing and hair-pulling ceased, and her screams became wailing tears of frustration, noisy, but lower and more tolerable.
A few minutes more, and the child could no longer continue her fit but for token sobbing—more like frustrated moaning. As the mother ran one hand up through the little girl's limpid locks to comfort her, Twilight Sparkle grunted discontentedly. “No! Noooo!” The little girl wouldn't give up so easily.
The screaming, kicking, and hair-pulling recommenced. This time, realizing she'd only get tired again, the disgruntled girl threatened, “I'll bite you! Let me go! I'll bite!” It wasn't something that little Twilight had ever tried, but extreme situations called for extreme tactics.
Twilight Velvet still didn't yield, barely even moved, but she tensed as she felt the girl push and adjust her face to press her mouth into her upper chest. The woman trembled a little in fearful anticipation as her daughter caught only her blouse in her teeth on her first attempt. It wasn't something she wanted. Unlike the other parts of her little Sparkle's tantrum, she realized it would hurt a lot, but, if the little girl could manage it, she would allow the biting this once. It would soon be justified, after all.
She expected, when her Twiley succeeded, that—
Searing pain shot through Twilight Velvet's upper breast as her daughter's incisors found purchase through her top, and the woman gasped. Her arms lost their strength momentarily, enough to allow the child to break free briefly. Before the girl made it out of her mother's grasp, she drew her in again, however.
No matter. Twilight Sparkle was prepared for a second attempt. Near the same spot, the small girl bit down harder than before, causing her mother to cry out in pain. This time, however, the woman kept her hold, flexing into the throbbing sting. Little Twilight didn't relinquish her hold either, but kept her teeth locked in place, clamping with all the strength her small jaws possessed while the vulnerable mother shook in agony.
It took a moment through her tense, angry panting and sobbing before Twilight Sparkle realized something odd; her small tongue detected something warm and metallic. As the taste spread and grew stronger, the girl's confusion broke through her concentrated wrath against her mother, her jaw released its hold, and, moments later, Twilight Velvet loosened her embrace enough to allow the girl to draw back a little. There, where she had bitten her mother, little Sparkle was startled to find blood.
She gasped, shocked, and, looking up, young Twilight saw the woman called Mom wet-faced with tears, eyes shut tightly in continued agony while her breast burned and throbbed. Fear suddenly replaced shock on the little girl's face, her eyes watered anew, and she looked back down at the wound she'd inflicted with her own teeth. The fabric of her mother's blouse was deformed, small holes left by her her baby canines and matching punctures in Velvet's skin beneath slowly soaked the white material in blood.
Her escape plans forgotten, little Twilight's breathing quickened, she looked again at the face of her mother, her eyes now open, only slits due to her pain. An expression of wide-eyed, teary, panic unlike Twilight Velvet had seen in years fixed itself across the small girl's face. Crimson wetly stained the child's bottom lip as it trembled. “I—” Twilight Sparkle's voice shook and her breathing hitched “—'m s—oorry.” Twilight Sparkle broke down, heaving silently for a moment without breath, then bawling, scared, and, for the first time in a long time, with respect to her mother, she was wholeheartedly ashamed of what she'd done.
Still trembling subtly, Twilight Velvet raised her right hand again to the back of the little girl's head to lay her daughter's cheek against her opposite, uninjured breast, and, while Twilight Sparkle clung to her and wailed penitently, Velvet gently stroked the girl's hair.
Half a minute later, the girl's sobs became more subdued, and Twilight Velvet hushed her softly until her sobbing became ragged breath, then, finally, steady, even breathing, punctuated only by a few small sniffles.
Twilight Velvet sighed, relieved and happy. All it took to bond, it seemed, was some pain and a little bleeding. It wouldn't stop what was coming, of course. Nothing could stop it now that she'd begun to prepare for that final, desperate leap.
Wordlessly, ignoring the pain of her injury, Twilight Velvet's left hand rubbed the girl's back up and down—up a little, then down a bit lower, up again, and down lower still. At the small of little Twilight's back, at the top of her small, navy skirt, she stopped a moment, and then, tenderly, her hand moved down to cup the little girl's small bottom.
After so much resistance, Twilight Sparkle relaxed; she conceded, or at least began to recognize, she was unconditionally loved. ‘Til then, she never knew just how much she had needed that feeling. With her mother's caress and soft squeeze on her tiny tush, Twilight Sparkle finally realized that, more than winning, or control, or entertainment, all she really needed—needed desperately—was to be held and loved, no matter what.
