This is chaotic, absurdist fiction. Or true art. Or utter garbage. You decide! Warning: may actually contain meaning.

Those who came here for Derpestia or Derpy, skip to Chapter Zero.

[trigger warning: don't lose your way]
This is a tail of fate and freedom, yet another iteration of the Myss of Sysiphus, the Equine Comedy perpetuating itself: with no end in sight there, is only the journey. Will Derpy and Celestia's Love, Friendship, Agape and Storge prebail against the B.R.o.T.H.? Will Truth, Justice, and the Equestrian Way win against the Forces of Evil? Whatever happens, don't stop beliebing; hold on to that feeling, you screenlight poeple!

My first story in this continuity. Apologies, but I'm not a Nobel-Prize worthy writer—yet. Even my summaries are still imperfect, so apologies for that too. This story's a bit of a slow starter, but I promise it gets better after Chapter X—which I haven't written yet, I'll replace "X" with the right number once we get there, together, dear reader, you and me. Of course, if you don't like it, please don't read it; I do not wish to inflict needles suffering on fellow sentient beings—I hope that, in some parallel universe, a pony is reading this.

This broth is owned by too many cooks for me to list or even care, so sue me. Yeah, I'm not even listing the proofreaders, they knew what they were getting into when they signed on for this mission; I'll remember them so you don't have to.

Currently being rewritten: from its broken fragments will be forged a newer, better, successor story, like Anduril seceded Narsil. Indeed, the Flame of the West will succeed the Sun/Moon upon their ascension. But that is a story for another story.

Tagged "teen" for adolescent humour and juvenile taste. Not to be cofused with Juvenalian Satire... or is it? (DUN DUN DUUUUN!)

Spike remembers the good old days with Twilight, Rarity and the rest, so long ago. While he helps Celestia during a solar flare, the comfort they provide each other is more than strictly thermodynamic.

Princess Twilight Sparkle awakens in a dark, empty, silent room. Where is she? What's going on? Where's the exit? And why is it that, despite hearing no sound other than those she makes, she has the niggling sensation of being laughed at?

Wandering around the park, Pipsqueak tells his mother about the latest exciting issue of his favorite comicbook series when they come across a meditating Princess Twilight Sparkle. Geological hilarity ensues.

The Adventure Time cast write self-insert MLP fanfiction, and have a lot of fun doing so. Problem is, the Adventure Time Cast being who they are, each one of them has a skewed understanding of Equestria and its people, and none of their disturbing, fantastic head-canons can agree. This fanfic has problems.

P.S. BP wanted to use "The most excellent and tragic account of the whimsical and serendipitous happenstance, whence the foremost diplomats of the Magical Kingdom of Ooo chanced upon the Equestrian Realm and its inhabitans, and with them forged friendship everlasting." as the story's blurb, but it got shot down by everyone else on the grounds of being boring, and going overboard with the big words.

A young mare from a family of refugees leads a remarkably average life at Cloudsdale Flight School. Her outward image of stoicism and maturity subconsciously hides a tight pack of little frustrations and miseries that threaten to overflow at any moment. Then a pirate tiger boy, hailing from science and outer space, fitted in flying power armour, guitar'd her in the frontal cranium, literally releasing her demons to wreak havoc into the world, for fun and profit and glory and because why the heck not. A wacky, bittersweet coming-of-age story ensues. What does it take, to be an adult, in a land where adults act like children? What is "getting a proper childhood" worth? What does it mean, to take responsibility for one's actions?