My Little Pony: Family Does(n't) Matter

Chapters

Chapter One: The Misadventure of a Misanthrope Filly has Begun
Chapter Two: The Said Misanthrope Hates her Misadventure
Pilot: Family Dynamics
Chapter Three: The Great and (Ir)Responsible Parenting

Chapter One: The Misadventure of a Misanthrope Filly has Begun

How did this day go for Twinkle Star started out? It honestly started out great, because she surely wasn’t bored in her Book Fort, or moping around like some lazy pony who didn’t care to even pick themselves up in the morning, or to even go to her own Grandmother’s house. She had everything she wanted, except for one thing.

She didn’t have a cup of milk in her hooves to celebrate building a fort out of books, books that Twilight has specifically told her not to use or she’ll be grounded from reading privileges for the weekend. One glass of milk to smugly sip at Twilight while the full grown mare is forced to put all of these books back into place.

There was one book, however, that Twilight had hid deep in the shelf that no one touched in ages—by evidence of dust and forms of cobwebs, and probably even a dead mouse—Twinkle dug into the seemingly empty bookshelf until she found it, she actually had to dig in a vertical plane on a bookshelf that you can walk to on the other side. Twinkle pulled out the book and blew the dust off of it.

“Wow… I wonder what this word means…” Twinkle Star wasn’t as fluent in magic spells as Twilight, or even adept to it as Trixie, but Twinkle was persistent in her reading. Magic spells were in a completely different language than equine—which is pretty much the only language that Twinkle can speak comfortably—Twilight has yet to train Twinkle Star about magical scrolls and what they do, she’s still got a lot to learn about keeping her magic under control. All that stuff.

“Hey, this one looks interesting…” She didn’t even open the book, but was mesmerized by the cover of the book. The hard leather seemed to have stood its test of time, four Alicorns with a giant stars behind them and a circle encasing each star. Of one of the corners, there was a familiar looking Alicorn with a flowing mane.

Upon further inspection, there was almost a vivid image in Twinkle’s mind of a mare with a fiery mane and tail, holding the sun up with a sword, and protecting the ponies from the sun dropping onto Equestria with a shield.

Like a whisper, the words “War” went into Twinkle Star’s brain. Twinkle Star’s going to learn about this book’s secrets now, besides: the ability to spite Twilight for spiteful reasons is funny enough for Twinkle Star to keep entertained while also doing Trixie—best mom—a service at the same time. This book has caught Twinkle Star’s attention, and now, it’s going nowhere from her grasps and if it does, it’ll be from the cold, lifeless, body of The Brilliant and Graceful Twinkle Nebula Star!

(The title is still pending, but still!)

Twinkle Star doesn’t know what these books do, nor does she care what they do, all she knows is that Twilight doesn’t want Twinkle to place her blue-grey hooves onto it. Twinkle Star, unable to resist the temptation of being able to spite Twilight for spiteful reasons, took the books to build a fortress out of them. Twinkle Star even added a little illusionary magic to place miniature armed guards on the fort to fire at Owlicious—whom tried to get Twilight’s special book away from Twinkle Star fiercely.

Twinkle Star left her fort for five minutes to grab that glass of milk with ice cubes, to find Owlicious unconscious at the gate of Book Fort. Twinkle Star smiled brightly at her magic, it having actual effect on physical things!

The guards interacted with the environment around them, adapting to it, and even making homes in some books with weird symbols that Twinkle Star doesn’t care to even fully see. Also so, this prompted Twinkle Star to thumb through Twilight’s special book a few pages and found a spell about actually creating a small gravitational field.

Gravity meant things would attach to one object with mass, Twinkle knows, and this means Twinkle can make her own world in one simple spell! Twinkle took her nose out of the book and sped around the empty house to find that foam ‘stress ball’ Twilight keeps for some reason.

Twilight and Spike were gone to do some sort of adventure that was ‘too dangerous for a foal’ and Trixie—best mom—was asleep on the couch; she was out cold, given how many times Twinkle conjured up a marching band to rampage through the house—she didn’t even snort or rolled over.

Which left Twinkle Star alone to do her own thing and make her own misadventures, well, when you’re surrounded by magical scrolls what do you do? Make lemonade? Twinkle Star would rather create a whole universe, and that’s what she’s going to do.

And she did.

And it was glorious.

She managed to make Twilight’s ‘stress’ ball grow into the size of her head, and—after getting her face stuck to the ball three times—Twinkle Star placed the miniature ponies onto the ball and watched them as they ran across the ball, exploring every inch of the new territory.

Twinkle Star conjured up a flag in her image, her face and… lack of a cutie mark on both sides of the cloth. She shrunk it and placed it on top of the ball. The ponies on the ball cheered in a pitch that she didn’t recognize, but all she knew was she just created life out of illusionary magic—where the Tartarus is Mom and Best Mom in this situation, Twinkle Star was supposed to be famous twelve minutes ago!

What’s the point of making a breakthrough in magical history, if there’s no one to account for said magical breakthroughs! Someone has to write down Twinkle Star’s name in history and Best Mom is probably dead on the couch, while Mom is most-likely dead somewhere in Viridian Forest or somewhere in Carmen San-Diego.

“This is so stupid, how come I’m the only one who stays around when I do something cool!” Twinkle Shine sat on her haunches and crossed her forelegs across her chest. Twinkle stared at the ponies, whom were working on building farms on the illusionary magical world that Twinkle, and the help of this book, created on her own. Mostly herself. Okay, maybe the book helped. A lot.

“Ah, horse-feathers!”

“Did somebody say Yoga?” A voice rang, as a pink earth pony with cotton candy-looking mane just randomly waltzing into Twinkle Star’s living room and taking a seat onto a yoga mat that appeared out of nowhere. She wore some kind of tight trousers, with a shirt that seemed a little tight, but a headband that was so tight: Twinkle Star swore she saw a brain at the tip of her forehead.

(Twinkle Star didn’t even know that Pinkie had a brain in the first place.)

That annoying mare who can honestly do the impossible, and was probably the product of Deadpool but just child-friendly. Most of the time, Twinkle Star has heard the rumors and they don’t appear to be right because they were nothing but bedtime stories to make foals wet-themselves. Yes, Twinkle Star did not enjoy Pinkie’s company but was it unwelcomed in her time of need? Yes—wait hold on.

“How did you get in my house?” Twinkle Star looked at the door and noticed the locks weren’t even touched, nor the window, nor any walls, even the floor lacked the hole required for Pinkie entrance.

“Through the back window, silly! The front door was locked and I didn’t want to pick it and scare you!” Pinkie giggled, ruffling Twinkle Star’s white and dark purple mane. Well, more of a white mane with one dark purple strike but that’s about it.

“The only time you’ll never be able scare me is if I’m on the back of a milk carton missing ad, actually, that’s the reason I avoid you.”

“Because you’re lactose intolerant?”

“What—no” a loud, self-inflicted smack on Twinkle Star’s forehead later. “—I’m talking about how if I let my guard down once, you might jump out of nowhere and surprise hug me, which also counts as foalnapping!”

“That’s because you love it!” Pinkie Pie giggled, bouncing around Twinkle Star and audibly making her own ‘byoing!’ sound effects. Twinkle Star felt her eyelid twitch at the annoying sound and then she purposefully made Pinkie Pie do a face plant by holding her forelegs down.

Pinkie Pie became one with the floor, like a pink pancake batter with eyes and a mouth and mane and tail.

“Don’t you remember last year’s birthday? You gave me a heart-attack.”

“That was just heart burn from the surprise!”

“You don’t just get heart burns from a surprise party, you idiot,” Twinkle scornfully retaliated, sticking her nose upwards slightly. Her way of dismissing Pinkie Pie, but Pinkie Pie kept bunny hopping around Twinkle Star. Twinkle Star closed her eyes to add to the spiteful look she pulled off, but Pinkie seemed immune to Twinkle’s hint.

“Can you, erm, leave?” Twinkle pointed to the door, as if to make her statement even more obvious that she doesn’t want Pinkie Pie here anymore. Twinkle waited until Pinkie wasn’t a pancake on the ground before comically popping from the ground like a spontaneous rocket out of nowhere, or a better example would be a flash paper bag.

“No can do!” Pinkie’s toothy smile flashed, she ruffled Twinkle’s mane again and continued to bounce around Twinkle Star. Twinkle Star’s eye twitched as she continued to look at the mare with almost burning resentment. “Because I felt my knees wobbly, tail twitchy!”

“And what in Goddesses' name does that mean?”

“We’re going on an adventure!”

“Erm, no.”

“Yes!”

“No,”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!”

“No!

“Yes—wait—hey! You cheated!” Twinkle Star glared, but only to be scoped up in the ever bone-crushing bear-hug Pinkie is so known for. Being part embodiment of Twilight’s negative feeling about social interaction, she squirmed and pushed away from Pinkie—whom was casually and lovingly nuzzling Twinkle Star. “Ack! Bodies! Touching! No Bueno! No Bueno!”

After a few minutes of Twinkle Star brushing herself down with a hard scrubbing sponge until her skin felt raw, she tucked the book into her inventory. Twinkle only stashed the book under her bed, which she can summon a portal at any time to quickly grab the book if she needs it. Aw screw it, Twinkle grabbed the book and ran down the stairs.

“So… besides being forced out of my home to do something completely crazy with you, is there something you’d like me to do?”

“Tell your mom you love her?” Pinkie asked, bouncing in place. “Oh, and don’t tell Twilight we’re doing this.”

“Should I be concerned about my safety?”

“Yup!” Pinkie did a backflip in her bouncing, Twinkle was concerned about Pinkie’s hooves: how are they not broken yet?

“I suddenly want to see what it is so I may conquer it and have stories to be told about my heroic actions for many generations to come!” Twinkle declared, walking over to the thermostat and she placed her hoof onto the box. “But first I must wake up Best-Mom in the only way I know how.”

“True love’s first kiss?” Pinkie asked, tilting her head. “While cute, it’s cliché if you think about it. Why can’t it be like a hug, or a dance, or even a party?”

“What—no, what are you even saying right now” Twinkle Star smacked her forehead, disappointment radiating off of the filly. “—touching the thermostat wakes up even the most comatose parents.”

When Twinkle Star placed a hoof onto the nob, Trixie’s left eye opened a sliver to get a good look at the mare’s dreamily (sleepy) eyes. “Don’t touch the thermostat, Nebebe… Twily has enough to do without the bills racking up the… house…”

“Hey, Mom—Best Mom? Can I go onto an adventure that’ll most likely end up with me being in a dungeon for the rest of my life?”

“Knock yourself out, kiddo—be home by dinner…” With that, Trixie rolled over and resumed her eternal nap.

“Right-o,”

Chapter Two: The Said Misanthrope Hates her Misadventure

“So this adventure,” Twinkle Star begun, stuffing Twilight’s Special Book into her own saddlebag. “Where exactly are we going—because I would love to be ready for my likelihood of probable enslavement or death, either which doesn’t sound pretty.”

“Ah! Don’t worry!” Pinkie Pie replied as she grinned at Twinkle Star again, and thus making Twinkle Star even more uncomfortable and maybe nervous. “We’re going to pull a Rick and Morty and do some science-stuff without any knowledge of what it does!”

“…what’s Rick and Morty—actually” Twinkle Star shook her head, not even going to question some of the random things Pinkie Pie says. “—never mind, just some ramblings of the only sane pony alive.”

“Don’t worry about it; it was just a sponsorship deal that I got from Adult Swimmy guys, a free pool pass that expires two decades ago for just saying the name of a random show.” Pinkie Pie twirled her hoof around dismissing any sort of thought that even thought about being thought of in Twinkle Star’s mind.

“This is giving me a headache… and you didn’t answer my question,” Twinkle Star rubbed her face as she saw Pinkie Pie climbing out of Twilight’s window, setting up a zip line. “Zip lines, for real?”

“Yes-a-rooni-posi-toony!” For a moment there, Twinkle thought that she was insulted, but then realized it was just Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie—as stupid of a reason, that was the only explanation she had for this hyperactive mare she wish she can drop into a vat of chemicals. “We’re going to Fluttershy’s house!”

“I’m not going to Fluttershy’s house, it sucks, the animals are stupid, and it reeks of cowardice,” Twinkle Star didn’t like Fluttershy for her self-confidence, even though Fluttershy can stick up for herself at times—she was a complete and utter pushover. “It might ruin up my self-esteem.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine!” Pinkie Pie grabbed two hanger from Twilight’s closet and gave one of them to Twinkle Star, who promptly gave Pinkie Pie a confused and suspicious look.

“We’re not going zip-lining with hangers—we might as well jump from the window,” Twinkle Star growled flatly, bending the plastic hanger to prove her point. Pinkie Pie blinked and just ruffled Twinkle Star’s mane again, Twinkle Star nearly bit Pinkie Pie’s hoof; Pinkie Pie pulled her hoof away.

“Ooo! Fiesty!”

“Pinkie, we’ll get injured if we do this,”

“Ah don’t be silly you silly pony!” Pinkie Pie giggled, “That’s the fun of it!”

Pinkie Pie tried to give a reassuring smile, but it only added even more fuel to the fire that was Twinkle Star’s nervousness. It was probably the Fight or Flight reflexes going on, but there’s no way that this pink pony is even the safest pony to be around and Twinkle Star should run as far as possible as quickly as possible.

Pinkie Pie continued on her rambling, some of which Twinkle blurred out. “The random opportunity that we could break our legs and possibly our necks, okay maybe a rib, maybe our skulls, maybe our pelvis, maybe get a hernia in your case, swallow a bug, maybe a child endangerment lawsuit, breaking and entering… huh….”

“Is your brain finally working?”

“Nope! Me First!” Pinkie took a running start, bounced off of Twilight’s bed, landed in front of the window, and then leaped out the window with a loud cheer.

A hop, skip, and a jump—Twinkle was aware of this technique Pinkie Pie uses to get over her own fears, but Pinkie Pie seems to have the ability to flip the laws of physics on its ear and completely turn from solid to liquid and pop back into solid form in literal seconds.

“Yarr harr, fiddle—me not,” Twinkle Star dropped the hanger and turned to leave the room, but when she opened the door to find a familiar pink earth pony—that’s where Twinkle draws the line when it comes to logic.

“Hold on! No!” Twinkle Star’s eyes twitched, her mane starting to frizzle up. Twinkle Star’s mane was similar to Twilight’s, but lacked the color. It was grey-white, with one stripe of purple on the right side of her head. Her hair started to pick up in strands, as her brain couldn’t pool together the information process required to comprehend the impossible.

“No, no, no! I’m done with the whole dismissal reason; you have some power, I want that power, and you’re going to tell me exactly how you got it!” Twinkle Star pushed her left hoof onto Pinkie’s chest accusingly, but quickly backed away when she saw what was in Pinkie’s mouth.

The only answer Twinkle got was a toothy grin from Pinkie Pie, well—as much as a smile rope could give.

“Um, are you okay there Twinkle Toes?” Pinkie preened Twinkle’s head again, trying to elicit a response from the unconscious filly.

Twinkle Star had passed out from sheer panic when Pinkie Pie tied herself to her body, the physical contact sent Twinkle’s brain into a—fairly unorganized chaos that temporarily needed Twinkle to reboot herself to prevent from a complete and possibly lethal meltdown.

“You brainless dummy, I’d have for head for that,” Twinkle head-butted Pinkie away, snarling. “But I already have bowls in the pantry!”

Pinkie’s head comically concaved, her eyes stretched out of the puckered hole and she blinked. Her lips also joined her eyes. “You what, mate?”

“Oh god, what happened to your face?!” Twinkle Star’s ears flipped backwards as she stumbled onto her behind, staring confusingly—and a little disturbed—at the state of Pinkie Pie’s head.

“Oh, this? This happens sometimes—one moment please!”

“But—what?”

“One moment.”

Twinkle Star took a moment to notice they were in the Dark Forest, the one place Trixie had strictly forbade Twinkle from going—and Trixie doesn’t usually forbid anything, unless if it’s strictly a danger to Twinkle’s health.

(Like sticking your hoof into the blender, or going to Fluttershy’s Backyard without permission)

Pinkie stuck her hoof into her mouth and seemingly blew her face back into proportion, but her eye sagged a little.

“Uh, Pinkie?”

“Hmm? Oh! The eye!” She blew again, shooting her eye back into place. “Thank you, Twinkle Toes!”

“Don’t call me that—why are we in the Dark Forest—better yet, why are you dressed as a Princess?” Twinkle Star inquired, noticing she was also wearing a green tunic and a yellow night gown.

Twinkle Star growled, pulling at the tunic. “And why am I wearing such ridiculous clothes?! The Brilliant and Graceful Twinkle Nebula Star demands a swap!”

“That title sounds like a complete rip-off of Trixie’s title,” Pinkie pointed out, readjusting her crown. “Its kind-of a mouthful, why don’t you drop the ‘Nebula’ bit?”

“No,” Twinkle Star rolled her eyes and glared at Pinkie sharply, Twinkle Star crossed her forelegs across her chest.

“Okay-Doki-Loki!”

“Hold on for a second—did you put a plastic toy on me?” Twinkle Star raised an eyebrow when she found a gauntlet on her right hoof and a taped on foam sword on the other hoof. “Pinkie, I think you’re taking adventure a little too far—why can’t we play chess and call that an adventure?”

“Because that’s boring,” Pinkie complained, “And hard.”

“…actually, I’ll agree with you on that,” Twinkle found chess a waste of time trying to master. Twilight tried to get her to learn chess during that time when Twilight was still figuring out how to be a mom, Twinkle nearly swallowed a pawn while Trixie was trying to figure out what a Bishop was. “But is the outfit really necessary?”

“Yes, the outfit is necessary!”

Pilot: Family Dynamics

“We both know it is very unlike me to visit the parents of individual foals for their actions, because I believe with enough—and reasonable—discipline should be able to direct a child to the right direction,” Cheerilee began, her eyes never leaving the two parents but never lingered in either mare. “But I felt as this was necessary for this is the third time this week, that I had to calm down a filly’s parents because of a, quote on quote, hostile work environment.”

“Reasonable, as in detentions?” Twilight inquired, her mind processed the information faster than Trixie can chug down her piping hot tea and regret it.

“Being required to make apologies, chalkboard writing, detentions, all those sort of things,” Cheerilee looked up from her mug of steaming hot tea, her face expression showed hope but not a lot of it.

“I even had her spend the entire day with one of her classmates in a team-building exercise, and I’ve never seen a colt sprint with such speed in my life, but Plasma Dioxide ran as fast as Rainbow Dash on a lazy day…”

“Fast?” Trixie snorted in amusement, interrupting Cheerilee. Trixie was sitting next to Twilight, pressed against the lavender unicorn as a stallion would sit next to a mare. Twilight glared at Trixie from the side of her eyes, but Trixie didn’t catch the glare and still went on with her comment.

Trixie lacked her cape and hat, had her mane in a different hairstyle, but her use of third person personification still didn’t lack. “Not very fast, Trixie has seen Rainbow Dash on her ‘lazy days’, she won’t even move to get out of the way of Trixie’s fire crackers.”

Twilight sharply nudged Trixie in the ribs with a well-timed elbow, silencing the blue mare with an audible ‘HMPH!’ Trixie crossed her forelegs stubbornly over her chest, a glare forming in her eyes but she simply stared back into lala-land.

“Sorry, Cheerilee, please continue.” Twilight cleared her throat awkwardly, but offered Cheerilee a reassuring smile.

“Right,” Cheerilee cleared her throat, setting the teacup down and leaning forward. “Now, I would never question your parenting, but I have to know the kind of living situation she’s in in order to get into her mindset.”

Trixie looked cross, and Twilight looked uncertain.

Cheerilee backed up and tried a new approach. “It’s just a series of questions, and you can decide whether-or-not you want to answer them.” Cheerilee gently prodded her hooves together, self-restraint tactic she used.

Trixie turned her head to Twilight and hissed into her ear, Cheerilee sworn she heard an insult and her name under Trixie’s breathless whisper to Twilight.

Twilight thought for a second before shaking her head at Trixie, finally—some leeway for Cheerilee. At least Cheerilee knows now where the qualities of the parents come into the foal. “I know you’re uncomfortable with this, Trixie, but this for Twinkle Star.” Twilight stated, turning her head back to Cheerilee.

“Nebula,” Trixie flatly corrected.

“I beg your pardon?” Cheerilee raised an eyebrow, her head a pool of questions. “Nebula?”

“Twinkle’s coltish middle name, which I personally think is ridiculous.” Twilight sighed in frustration, she turned back to Trixie and gave a glare. Trixie returned the glare with a scowl.

“It is not ridiculous, it is an awesome name to have for any foal to have!” Trixie retorted, Cheerilee was left with mental question: how did these two mares stuck together for years now? “And since when did you care about names based on gender?”

“Since you tried to name her Trixie Lulamoon SR!” Twilight pointed out, “That’s not even how sub-names work!”

Their bickering and fighting continued for at least half an hour, constantly back and forth, never staying on just one topic but not to the point where it’s unforgivable.

“Well, excu-use Trixie, Princess!” Trixie obnoxiously retorted. Twilight raised an eyebrow and looked on her own back, she sarcastically searched for any wings. When she couldn’t find any, she looked back up at Trixie with raised eyebrow.

“I- well- shut up!” Trixie turned her head, defeated arrogance and hurt pride hung over the blue unicorn.

Cheerilee tactfully cleared her throat, having just about all the answers she needed. The two mares snapped back into attention with an embarrassed smile, Twilight had a tinge pink lacing her face while Trixie was trying her best not to storm out of the house in frustration.

“Oh, sorry! I guess we kind of lost focus… heh…” Twilight quickly jumped to gear, while Trixie remained silent but nodded with Twilight’s words. “You had questions, right?”

“Not any more, you two pretty much answered them.” Cheerilee calmly finished her mug of tea while Twilight struggled to find words in her embarrassment. “I do, however, have just one: do you ever fight in front of Twinkle—?”

“Nebula,” Trixie interjected sourly, “And Trixie doesn’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“Sure.” Cheerilee nonchalantly acknowledged Trixie, but kept her focus on Twilight. Twilight kept looking back at Trixie, whom didn’t look back to Twilight until she answered.

“Well, erm, I’d say sometimes… or… once?” Twilight pondered her answer, not actually keeping track of the amount of times they had actually done so. Cheerilee scratched her own cheek, trying her hardest to not slip her face into her hoof. “Occasionally? Rarely? I… erm… huh.”

“Bloody horse-feathers, Twilight, yes we do! All the time!” Trixie groaned, turning back to Twilight. Cheerilee noticed the remorseful look in Trixie’s eyes, which is uncommon for a mare like her—or at least what the other ponies think of Trixie. “Every event that we’ve been in for her, we’re either arguing or being completely over the top with affection.”

Cheerilee mused. She still remembered that time where she literally had to pull apart the two unicorns in an effort to keep things foal-friendly at a play, where Twinkle Star was the lead role and giving her monologue. If Cheerilee has ever seen a more disappointed filly in her life, she’d have to look at the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ photo album.

“Well, before we start anything of this assuming,” Cheerilee began again, waving her hoof in a motion of dismissal. “Let’s remember that Twinkle Star still has some good qualities, although selfish qualities, but still very good academically and otherwise.”

“She is smart,” Twilight softly smiled, “High passion for books—”

“She loves showing off her magical abilities, just like Mama Trixie!” Trixie’s eyes brightened when she concluded her thoughts, “She has a lot of self-esteem!”

“Pride.” Twilight corrected, but it went unheard.

“Our foal loves to read, build forts from materials just sitting there, practicing magic for all to see!” Trixie wasn’t praising or discrediting Twinkle Star, but spoke of the truth. “But to top it all off: our foal is a jerk who goes out of her way just to insult any-pony that dares to speak to her, can’t even remain a friendship with a bloody rock, and doesn’t take any pony’s conscious into consideration!”

Both Cheerilee and Twilight remained quiet, Cheerilee noticed a definite shadow on Twilight’s snout as Twilight hid her eyes with the bangs of her mane. Twilight looked up again, just in time for Cheerilee to see Twilight’s disappointment—or sadness—flush into the deep pools of violet.

“Ouch,” Twilight finally broke the second-that-actually-felt-like-a-minute long silence. Twilight shuffled, uncomfortable in the situation right now; Twinkle Star was their foal, Twilight’s and Trixie’s foal, and she was exactly like them at their worst. While it might be just unfortunate hereditary, there’s also the chance the impregnation spell had a complication—or a side effect that Twinkle keeps wrapped up.

“I agree, although rather hard, it’s true.” Cheerilee rubbed the back of her head uncertainly, feeling the awkward tension and the appropriate time to leave slowly arriving. “Twinkle is mean-spirit, and I think it’s rooted deeply into her head.”

“What do we do?” Twilight asked Cheerilee, even though her gaze was locked with Trixie’s in a seemingly telepathic communication. Cheerilee thought for a moment, discipline was completely laughed at, any opportunity to speak with Twinkle Star ends up with Cheerilee so frustrated she could slam her head into her desk repeatedly, and team building exercise are a complete joke.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Cheerilee admitted, rubbing her snout in an attempt to keep herself busy while she thought. “I don’t like leaving it up to time, but only time will tell if she even makes a one sided friendship.”

“Eleven years old, and if you listened to what we have told you, you would have been on the road to be a better mare,” Pearl belittled, keeping her snout raised in retaliation to the work the three fillies were assigned. “I guess you don’t listen, as always Twinkly, you have to be daft.”

“We’re the exact same age, Pearl, did you forget that?” Twinkle Star continued reading her book, paragraph by paragraph, only raising her purple eyes occasionally to return a glare. “I mean, you never do any learning: I bet you don’t even know what three times five is.”

“Twenty-one?”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re still a blank flank, Blanked Star!” Of course Twinkle Star had to be in the same detention time slot as her two bloodcurdling nemeses, one of which who happened to be of decedent of Filthy Rich and the other the daughter of some other politician.

“You’re both still worried about Cutie Marks instead of the fact we’re both in detention? No wonder why you’re so stupid.” Twinkle Star retorted quietly, raising an eyebrow at the two fillies on the opposite side of her desk. Gold Dust and Pearl—how fitting that they’re names goes along with how rich they are.

Like some poor sod would be given a name like Platinum Trousers and be bankrupted.

Gold Dust had her golden brown-speckled hair in a bun, she had a dark amber fur color which kind of looked like gold if you looked hard enough and didn’t know what gold remotely looked like. Her cutie mark was a pouch spilling gold dust, which is awfully fitting for her name. Her eyes were behind sunglasses, which was fitted with diamonds and ambers.

Pearl, well, Pearl doesn’t matter as much to Twinkle Star to be given a full introduction. Twinkle star doesn’t even know if Pear is her real name honestly, but it seems like Pearl didn’t care. Pearl was a glossy aluminum colored unicorn, her mane was in a pony-tail. Her cutie mark was exactly what Twinkle Star named her, a single pearl on a either a clam tongue or a velvet scarf.

“Nu-uh!” Pearl retorted, if Twinkle Star could even call that a retort.

“How’s about I make a deal? You both stop talking to me, you both get a hobby, you both do something great—and when I mean great, I mean completely handed to you—and you leave me alone so I can be better than you at everything,” Twinkle Star didn’t even put her book down as she said this, she hasn’t even once moved her eyes over to them. “Does that sound like a fair trade, I hope so, because I want nothing to do with you lot.”

“That’s why no-pony likes you, you’re so boring,” Gold Dust rolled her eyes, obnoxiously loud and her ‘accent’ only wanted to make Twinkle Star bash her head into solid gold had enough to make a monument to the stupidity that was Gold Dust. “Like, every-pony needs like a PHB in physics to understand what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m still, like, trying to figure out what ‘daft blockhead’ even means,” Pearl agreed with Gold Dust, as usual.

“It’s PHD,” Twinkle Star corrected.

“Same thing, like, really.” Pearl defended, but Twinkle Star rolled her eyes.

“Egh, who put you on the planet?” Twinkle Star murmured before flipping to the next chapter.

Chapter Three: The Great and (Ir)Responsible Parenting

“Okay, done with the menial chores of Fluttershy – Tree-mare!! What else is on that list?!” Twinkle-Star growled, throwing the hoe into the bush—sucessfully hitting Opal.

“Saying sorry to Opal and Rarity would be a start…” Fluttershy hinted, quietly.

“I wasn’t talking to a tree, Fluttershy, I’m trying to talk to the pink blob who defies every laws of science,”

“Rock climbing to find Boulder for Maud Pie!”

“No, I don’t care who this Maud Pie is!” Twinkle Star spat at the ground of Pinkie’s hoof, which merely was absorbed in the plant’s nutrients-leeching roots. “I’m not about to carry a stupid bolder, for a stupid reason, with stupid motives!”

“Um… if I may interject…You kind-a made a Pinkie Promise to help…” Fluttershy, who decided to come out of her mane to speak—although quietly. Fluttershy was quite, but stern in her voice. Twinkle Star merely chuckled before rolling her eyes defiantly.

“I don’t see a door, Fluttershy—Tree-Mare,” Twinkle snapped, giving Fluttershy a cold stare. If it wasn’t for the fact Fluttershy was used to the kind of verbal abuse, same as every-pony, since Twinkle learned how to talk; she would probably in tears now. “Go be a doormat somewhere else!”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t break a Pinkie Promise…” It was unlike Fluttershy to quip back, especially after a sting like that.

(This seemed a little scripted…)

(So Twinkle decided to push her luck.)

“I’ve broken many things, Tree-Mare, a Pink – whatever – promise isn’t going to deter me from…” Fluttershy gave Twinkle Star a glare, followed up by Pinkie Pie giving a really heated glare the moment ‘promise’ was being implied to be broken. “—sweet grandmother of Wrath, I take back everything I ever said since I was conceived.”

(Did it pay off?)

(Not by a longshot.)

When Twilight came home, she did not expect her house to be so calm and quite.

Okay—maybe not normal, given by the fact that her green ‘stress ball’ is now the size of a pony head, the books Twilight had told Twinkle Star to specifically not use in a fortress that would collapse under a tad bit of pressure, Owlicious is on the floor unconscious, Trixie’s on the couch unconscious, and worst of all: Twinkle Star is the cause of this.

“Actually, this is quite normal—and that’s not normal,” Twilight whispered under her breath, sending Spike to clean the mess with a flick of her hoof. “The only moment where I actually want some normality, the only thing I want to spend a peace of mind, it has to be peaceful. Twinkle, what did you do this time?”

Spike knew better than to comment, especially to a stressed out Twilight after leaving her filly home with Trixie. Trixie was responsible to a degree, save for the fact Trixie is incredibly lazy when she isn’t doing shows.

Spike groaned inwardly, trudging off to get his pink apron.

Trixie actually spent time to hang out with Twinkle. What Twilight had to do was pretty nothing much, except be the hero of Equestria every time a villain happened. Trixie, being nothing special in regards in the prophecy that no-pony reads, is left to play house-mom.

This doesn’t, however any pony interpreted it, mean that Twilight wasn’t in Twinkle’s life—quite the contrary actually. Twilight nursed Twinkle, changed her diapers, bought her all the books that Twilight could think of, and had actually made a checklist on how great Twinkle’s life is going to be.

(She labeled it Twinkle’s Excellent Life and, so far, had made it to block eight-hundred.)

Twilight, to be frank, was more or less the over-obsessive mother who cares about every single detail on every single fabric, on every single limb, on every single molecule. This was uncanny for Twilight, to be so obsessive over her own filly, that she would even show traits of high intense stress from times to times.

At times, many of Twilight’s friends questioned if she was doing alright in the head. Even Trixie, who passed some of Twilight’s unusual actions off as just her OCD being a warlock over her brain, started to worry about Twilight’s seemingly never ending stress.

Maybe it was Twinkle not following the list?

(She had already created a Great Childhood to-do list for Spike, and it didn’t go as plan. So her solution was to an already confusing list: is to make even more detailed and complicated lists.)

Or was it the fact, that Twilight is the definition of a literal ‘new mother’?

Twilight’s relationship, and marriage, with Trixie wasn’t exactly easy to maintain with Trixie’s ego; but it seemed that Trixie has been making an improvement to cut back on her ego slightly. Also Trixie’s pride; that was another thing that had been reduced considerably, but still to levels where they were quite easy to offend.

However, with the relationship between Twilight and Twinkle wasn’t exactly stable as mother-daughter relationships usually are. Twinkle would actually go out of her way to get under Twilight’s skin, to draw the last straw straight out of Twilight’s patience, and to be prideful while doing it.

When not going out of her way to compete her feats against Trixie’s, or dumping buckets onto Twilight, she was nose deep into books and would completely avoid social interaction. Twinkle was suffering from a haphephobia, which is the fear of touching.

(Pretty much any pony-pony contact was completely and utterly numbing to Twinkle Star, as far as Twilight noticed.)

Throughout her thinking about how her family, and how wonderful it is, Twilight couldn’t find Twinkle in her usual spots to hide: not the bed covers, not the bathroom, not under her bed, not in her closet, not under the couch, not in the kitchen—which is strange, because Twinkle has Trixie’s habit of eating when bored.

“Okay, don’t panic, maybe the mare you married didn’t lose our own daughter in our own house…” Twilight tried to calm herself, rubbing her own temples, but getting nowhere in her flurry of worrying and complete pessimistic thinking overshadowing her optimistic rationality.

“Oh, Twinkle?” Trixie seemingly shrugged in her sleep, “I'd tell you that ‘I’ve been asleep the whole time and don’t know’, mysterious voice in my lover’s voice, but Twilight will have my head where my—oh…” As if everything in Trixie's body had sudden frozen, she cut off midsentence as she opened her eyes to the... not too happy unicorn.

A cold vice gripped Trixie’s chest as the realization of what she had said dawned on her, their daughter is not in the house—the one daughter that Trixie had been told to watch, the one thing that no rational mom should ever have the opportunity to screw up, the one task that will put Trixie in an unmarked grave on some random planet.

“Twilight would what—I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you over the sounds of our only filly missing!” Twilight’s entire face started to twitch at random, trying to resist the urge of bursting into flames. “—by all means, continue!”

“Twilight!? Hold on! I know that sounded bad—okay maybe bad—but there’s the chance that Twinkle is still in the house?” Trixie tried, the blue unicorn sat up and shielded herself with a pillow—as if it would do anything to the blazing wrath that was a mother without her child. Exactly an Ursa Major without her cub, except with magic powers that mirrored gods.

(Basically, if Trixie was any other pony, Twilight would have pulled a Darth Vader and completely mind-choke Trixie.)

Twilight seemingly growled—actually growled like a timber-wolf challenging an Alpha Male—her eyes twitched uncontrollably as her hair frizzed worse than a stereotypical ginger with conditioner. She even had animalistic movement, baring her teeth and leaning into Trixie’s face.

“Please don’t eat Trixie, Trixie tastes like wheels!” It seemed more and more obvious Twilight was losing her irises the more Twilight leaned into Trixie, who cowered away with her ears flipped to the back of her skull. Trixie would have been more challenging, ironically being the dominant mare in the relationship, but today did not sound like a good idea to make a wrathful mother even angrier.

“Please continue that comment, sweetie!” Twilight’s mane was now glowing, which Trixie made a mental note in the back of her head to take aware of. Trixie didn’t know if she should be impressed, jealous, or fearful for her life right now. “Give me some ideas.”

“I’m so scared, but I love you even more—somehow…”

“Trixie, where is Twinkle?”

“I… Twinkle should be in her room…”

“Not there.”

“Oh—well then,”

“Trixie—Where. Is. Twinkle?” even slower.

Trixie made the misfortune mistake of remaining silent.

“Trixie, if you value my self-restraint, tell me where my bloody child is!”

“…oh my god, Trixie is a great mom by Trixie’s standards!”

(And the mistake of showing where Twinkle gets her snarky-ness from)

“Trixie, you don’t have to worry about finding a religion anymore,”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re goddess is right here,”

“Oh—should Trixie be worried?”

“You let our only daughter go missing, while I was out there fighting goddess knows what evils; somehow ruining the easiest job you can ever do as a parent,” Twilight’s eyes flashed red, before turning to the piercing white they were. Trixie conjured up her spell for the vanishing act, but Twilight gripped her hoof tightly, sealing off any source of magic Trixie could conjure up. “You should be terrified.”

“—and you wonder where our filly gets her unrelenting fury from… you need to see a shrink, love-bear, you're a little out of control...”

“Trixie, our filly is missing, how are you so calm about this?!”

“Because Trixie’s not sure if Trixie will survive the next five minutes of the intense lector she will get,” Trixie, being the smart-allec she was, retorted. “Twinkle’s missing and you’re concerned with killing Trixie first.”

“You were the one to let her out of your sight!” Twilight’s mane glowed brighter, and completely voided of eyes. “Who knows how long I’ve been out of the house, with her under your supervision, and I come home to find the house either on fire or being eaten by wood chippers!”

“Trixie thought they were beavers—they look like beavers,”

“Trixie, I love you, but I have the overpowering need to strangle you,” said Twilight, as she rubbed her eyes again. “Ah, horse feathers! We’re wasting time! We need to look for Twinkle!”

“Trixie’s sure she’ll find her way home, she’s a smart kid,”

“My parents weren’t exactly the best in the world, but they raised me just fine until Celestia came along—but” Twilight sighed, her snout between her hooves in an effort to calm her shaking hooves. “—but I take it your mom didn’t exactly love you enough, for you to realize how incredibly irresponsible that sounds.”

“What are you, writing a book?”

“Trixie.”

“Yeah?”

Without even blinking, or a change of pitch from her regular voice, she said this so casually: no pony would believe her words to be genuine. “You got about five seconds to get out of this house, looking for Twinkle, before I completely snap your neck like a Popsicle stick.”

“Like that one assignment you didn’t tur— (“One,”)—erm, Spike!?” Trixie did not decide to call Twilight’s bluff, looking behind her to find the dragon carrying a stack of forbidden magic scrolls back into the basement.

“Two—” Twilight’s countdown.

“Busy!” Spike yelled from the basement.

“Please! I need that solid you owe me!” Trixie shot up to her hooves, off of the couch, already racing for the door. “It’s about Twinkle!”

“Three—” Twilight’s countdown.

Spike yelled, his voice filled with indignation. “What did she break this time?! Honestly! I think she’s doing this on purpose!”

“Twinkle’s missing!”

“Four—don’t try me, Trixie,”

“Have you tried all the usual places she’ll be?”

Trixie ran out of the door before answering, deciding to not be the judge in Twilight’s probable bluff.

“Ugh, why do we have to do rock-climbing?” Twinkle Star complained, her hooves aching from the amount of holding she had to do. Twinkle Star stared at the rope that separated between the both of them, a large scowl on imprinted firmly on her face while beads of sweat rolls down her face.

“Better yet, what is my life doing in your hooves?!” Her hooves dug shallowly in the cliff, right hoof searching for any cracks she can get a hold of, left hoof keeping her from falling, legs being… legs, and Pinkie Pie being way too god at this activity.

“Reasons, Twinkle Toes, reasons!” exclaimed Pinkie Pie, the pink mare tugged the seemingly (and impossibly) elastic fiber rope, forcing the filly to climb upwards. “Because we’re on an adventure, Twinkle Star! Don’t question!”

“I’m going to question you—in fact—I’m going to question you so hard that even the great philosophers will crown me as their rightful ruler!”

“I saw an escalator back at base camp,”

“You…” Twinkle Star couldn’t believe what just came out of her that pink pony’s mouth, “—saw—” the words kept moving out of Twinkle Star’s mouth. Even by Pinkie’s standards—that was just too idiotic to just mention now. “WHAT!?”

“There was an escalator, I think,” Pinkie Pie placed her hoof to her chin, hovering in midair as she seemed to be lost in thought. “I think I forgot to mention that.”

“You pink, brainless, imbecil!!” Twinkle Star screamed, her face already a burning shade of crimson. “I’ve been climbing up this mountain, ruining my perfect hooves, just so you could stop midway to tell me this is pointless—because there’s an escalator that you’re just NOW telling me about!”?!”

“Did you see the price for admission?! Three bits! The brains!”

“Pinkie that was the price for the equipment that we’re lacking,” Twinkle Star heaved, wishing she had paid more attention in physical education on her upper body strength. “Admission to the camp was free and equipment is three bits per pony.”

“You were the one who insisted we shouldn’t use equipment,” Pinkie Pie pointed out, scurrying up the cliff with ease. “Besides, this is way cooler!”

“Well, of course I said that—you should have been the adult!” Twinkle Star heaved, looking between her legs and down her chest to peer down at the blurry and barren ground below her. Twinkle gulped and continued to go upwards. “I don’t need equipment! I need an adult who has brain without the size of a decaying pistachio nut!”

Princess Luna sneezed abruptly, not even noticing the sneeze like usually. It was instantaneous, and she was caught off guard by the loud ‘CHOO’ sound that escaped her lips. It was unlady-like to present such a sneeze in such a way—but given how she’s in her own private quarters: that should keep some nobles from entering the room and spreading some rumors.

“My princess!” The guards immediately rushed in, scanning the room for any sign of danger. When they didn’t find any, they looked up at a very confused Princess with a single blob of snot hanging from her nostril. The guards look to find the Princess was in a very intense game of Chess with a shadow-y version of herself. “Are you of harm?”

“Naught at-tal!” The shadow spoke, before Princess Luna cleared her voice and spoke again with an awkward grin, the snout blob hanging and swung from her nostril like a pocket watch. “No, no threats. Just one little sneeze caught us off guard!”

“A tissue, milady?” said one of the guards, offering the Royal Box of Tissue Holders—holding a bejeweled box of literal tissues—between all three pairs of their forelegs.

“According to Equestrian Mythology, some pony has spoken of us when we sneeze un-expectantly,” Luna took the tissue box, and wiped her nose. “A bit odd and perceive.”

“Come on, slow poke!” Pinkie Pie playfully taunted, triggering a vein to pop in Twinkle Star’s forehead. Twinkle Star was a good eleven feet from Pinkie Pie, meaning Pinkie was almost done with the cliff-climbing they were doing.

“Why, and how in the hay, are you doing that so fast!?” Twinkle Star screamed/snarled at Pinkie Pie, who wasn’t even breaking a sweat in her climbing. “Stop it! I’m literally being dragged behind!”

“You’re too slow!” Pinkie Pie cheered, reaching the top of the cliff. Twinkle Star planned out her revenge a she was being dragged up the mountain with a scorn, giving up on cliff-climbing.

“Uh… Twinkie?” Pinkie Pie’s uncertain voice came from above.

Twinkie cringed at the name. “If you ever say that again, I’ll hang you with this rope like a puppet show!”

“What would you feel if I said I slipped?” Pinkie quizzed.

“I would be absolutely livid!” Twinkle Star punched the cliff, crushing a small rock at the cost of pain.

“Would we be friends if I said this?” Pinkie asked again.

“No! What is it!?” Twinkie yelled, still clenching her eyes closed.

“…you promise not to get mad?” Pinkie asked again.

“I don’t promise anything! Tell me!” Twinkie yelled, the familiar vein popping on Twinkie’s forehead.

“I can’t because you sound angry,”

“I’m on my last nerve, here, Pinkie!”

“I slipped.”

Gravity caught up with them, and while Pinkie was cheering/screaming; Twinkle Star was screaming her head off with insults that were way too colorful for a eleven year old filly to know about.

“ARHHH! YOU IMBECI-IIIIIIII-LE!”

“YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T GET MAD!!”

“I SHOULD KILL YO-OOOOO-U!!”

Author's Note

What Twinkle Star actually looks like, but more snarkyness