Long ago, before the fall of Princess Luna, before the rule of Discord, there existed another race of pony; The lamia, or snake ponies, feared by all of pony kind as mighty hunters and predators. When the Two Sisters rose to power, no longer able to stand by and watch as the lamia preyed on their subjects, they decided to put an end to the lamia’s reign of terror. Leading their army straight into the capital of the lamia they slew their leader, along with any lamia they encountered along the way.

Using a shapeshifting ability gifted to them by an ancient relic, the scattered remnants of the lamia managed to stay hidden for over a millennium. In the rare case that one of their kin was discovered, they were hunted down and persecuted without so much as a trial. Adapting to the lifestyle of the ponies, the lamia live in constant fear of one day having their true identity discovered.

Tired of living in constant fear, of hiding from her neighbors, and not caring about the consequences of being caught, one lamia decides to leave home and move to a friendly little town in the center of Equestria. Little does she know that something as small as moving to another town could set off a chain of events that will change relations between the lamia and the ponies forever...

The prologue contains some dark themes, as well as a bit of gore, however, that is the only chapter that contains them.

Cover art provided by artist and co-writer The Spirits Demise.

Full size cover can be found here.

Spirit and I have opened up a Discord server for this story. If anyone is interested in hopping in to get updates on the story, discuss what you did or didn't like about a particular scene, or just to chat in general, feel free to follow the link!

There was only one explanation. For all of it. All of the strange, erratic behavior. Her irrational fear of the sun. Her nocturnal habits of locking herself in in the dark and closing all the blinds. Wearing her sunglasses everywhere, even inside! It was time to invest in some silver, garlic, and a wooden stake.

Octavia Philharmonica is a desperate mare. Her involvement in the ill-fated "pony pokey" at the prestigious Grand Galloping Gala has left her blacklisted among the elite of Canterlot who form her clientele. Faced with the possibility of being evicted from her apartment for inability to pay rent she decides to take a temporary job at a local nightclub. Of course, she's never set hoof in a club before and has no idea what she's getting involved in . . .

Have you ever woken up as a vegetarian cartoon pony? I have, and she won’t shut up about it. I’m stuck in her body as our minds swap control and our memories blur. I can’t seem to do anything right, and it’s even worse when she’s in charge.

Now, we’re in a back and forth war for control of her body. I just want to eat meat again, and have a little personal space. She’s convinced I’m hitting on her friends and trying to score. I’m not sure I can survive the rest of the day, let alone until we fix this.

Edits by: Selbi, Abcron, Breath of Plagues, Refro, Jaestring, The Parasprite, Starbound Gurren
Pre-read by: SkeeterTL, Solidfire, Penjacker, TypewriterError, Pearple Prose
(It took all of them to corral my insanity.)
Cover art by Tsitra360
V1.1-Rated teen sex for strong innuendo.
V1.2-Pinkie Pie now enforcing RIAA guidelines.

Mr. Horse's pet courier has been murdered and his property stolen. And while the price on the killers' heads is good enough to get any bounty hunter's attention, it's the bonus for returning a silly little poker chip that draws Dead-Shot in.

A pony could retire on that kind of jackpot...

My name is Aideen; I know, I know, it's a stupid name for a pony, and if you pronounce it wrongly it even sounds male, but let's not get sidetracked here. I've lived through multiple mental breakdowns and severe physical beatings, but who hasn't in the dear wastelands? I can, however, claim that I'm a unique nutcase; there's something that differentiates me from the regular nutcases out there: The same evil entity that transformed Princess Luna into Nightmare Moon once upon a time wants me to be her new host.
Uhm... fun stuff...

Rated teen for gore

original story by the one and only Kkat

The Wasteland Bouquet. Just another bar, in just another town. The same old crowd, even when the faces change. Prospectors, scavengers, anyone that's down and out or just needs to tell their story, get things off their chest. Unicorn, Earth Pony, Pegasus, even Griffon, everyone is welcome. Walk on in, get yourself a drink, and cry your heart out to the pretty mare behind the bar, or maybe the quiet mare with the cold eyes. That's what they're there for, after all.

Thing is, they have their own story. It may not be heard very often, but here it is. Because every pony has a story, and those stories need to be told.

Set in the world created by Kkat and expanded upon by other authors, this story takes place in Fallout: Equestria, following the journey of Nevermore. Unforgiven, she atones for her sins through aimless wandering, enduring the suffering around her. Her life is a cold and lifeless thing, and she has grown to accept her fate, as much as she rails against it. But perhaps even one such as she can find a glimmer of hope in the blasted wasteland, or will the world break her further, as she races against time.

All rights to their original owners. No claims made or implied by this work.

Thanks so much to Nessy from http://tehfizzle.tumblr.com/ for the wonderful artwork!

Equestria is gone.

In its place a barren and inhospitable wasteland, inhabited by the worst of ponykind's darkest nightmares. But some small remnants of the old ways survive, clinging to a harsh and unforgiving existence constantly on the edge of oblivion. These lucky few are the descendants of the nation of friendship, the survivors of magical cataclysm and the harshest punishments ponykind could levy upon itself. Some hid themselves away in great underground vaults called the Stables, sealed away until Equestria was habitable once more.

However, there were other things that weathered the storm. Things hidden in dark places beneath the earth, concealed by their creators for use in the great war, before the creators were themselves destroyed. And here we find one such thing. A weapon, a device for killing that fed off the lives of its victims, artificially filled with spite and malice.

This weapon had a name, but he can't remember. This weapon had a life, now torn asunder. This weapon had a love, irretrievably lost.

And now he wants payback.

Frost Windchill is known to be a storyteller of sorts. Comfortable with telling the occasional sprite tale or legend, a child approaches him one day and asks for a real story.

And so Frost tells one- the story of his life. It's not a typical story, and there's more to it- just as there's more to the descendant of a Lunar Guard. It's a story not just of himself but the heroes he stood beside- big and small, legendary and obscure. But there's something amiss, buried lies between the lines.

After all, it's hard to kill memories when you remember everything.

(Cover done by the amazing Sw1tchbl4de. Check him out here! http://sw1tchbl4de.deviantart.com/

Larger version of cover art can be found here: http://sw1tchbl4de.deviantart.com/#/d4ovlt2)