Can we have an Octavia thread?
I want to bury my face in Octavia's ass and huff her sweaty, musky asshole.
Her mane, too. It's just so thick and lustrous. She's a beautiful pone and I can't help but associate the deepest, most primal of erotic scents to her being. If she allowed it I would worship every inch of her incredibly sexy body. Fuck.
Sick of seeing Octavia threads get 5-10 posts in and then die, let's try to keep this one alive
It's been raining pretty heavily lately, and I'm going on a bit of a road trip into the city for the weekend, so I'm in an Octavia sort of mood.
Also this, but without the ass stuff.
more music horse
Octavia has been my waifu for 4 years now.
AlI can say to those who ask me what I see in her is I just say she is perfect. I've been in love this character for so long and yet still so very in love. I hope for her to be with me the rest of my life even when I do eventually get married and have kids. She would want me to be the best being I can be which is what i'm doing. I love her so much.
And with that
A good night bump
Here's another bedtime bump.
>Octavia's soft, warm body pressed close, her chest slowly rising and falling as she sleeps peacefully beside you
>Scent like rain on an autumn night, faint and sweet, thicker in her mane that lies in a messy tangle across her body, having shed her prim, proper appearance at end of day
>With your arm around her, she nuzzles closer, resting her head in the comfortable space between your chin and chest
>Two lovers lying side by side without pretension or doubt, only care and comfort
But hey, content's content.
Oh how nice, was just thinking of making one myself. Been thinking alot about her the past week
Imagine that hair, running all the way down her back, smooth and thick...
I wish it would be that she usually has her upper-class accent, but when she becomes really angered, she rants and shouts in a Cockney accent.
Nah son pure upper class Tavi is best Tavi, besides nobody swaps between accents that are that different from each other naturally.
Also Scottish is best accent for angry ranting and raging.
>"Remember to practice with your instrument every day, anon!"
I wouldn't mind practicing my 'instrument' with you every day miss donk
>"Anonymous, that is completely uncalled for and furthermore denigrates the teacher/student relation-"
>She notices the two of you are alone and out of sight of any other ponies
>"I BET YOU THINK THAT SLICK LITTLE QUIP WAS FUNNY, DON'T YOU? ENOUGH OF YOUR TEASING, MONKEY, SEDUCE ME!"
Is my penis an instrument?
>"Play your goddamned horn, Patrick you dumb piece of shit."
Sounds pretty cool, but since we've only two days until the month ends I sure hope you're practicing the living shit out of your instrument.
Shit man like 90% of all octavia pictures are headshots.
Oh, nice! What do you play?
Eh, I wouldn't say so. Most of the best pieces are busts though, aye.
All my recent octy saves are too lood for chan
prettiest background horse
Would Octavia be interested in slaying impure souls in the name of her majesty the Queen and God?
Found some Octi stuff you might like
>Posting pleb tier
It's like you don't even Octavia
So Tavi lovers what is your favourite story that includes her? Is it a story all about her, is she just a supporting character in it, is it an epic tale that spans time or is it a quick one shot, is it a green or is it on FiMFiction? Come on people share the Tavi love.
Without a second thought.
Also here is a bonus of realistic human Octavia.
The ones on fimfiction that stood out:
The Cellist of Saraneighvo
A puppet to her fame
Playing with my heart
and recently The things tavi says
Any of JeffMango's stories:
Living in Circles - http://pastebin.com/cS88ipmG
Bravest Face - http://pastebin.com/fr0xgbz7
A Brief Dispersal of Stormclouds - http://pastebin.com/rkqqWRT1
Love What You Can:
Pt. 1 - http://pastebin.com/jAcMiprF
Pt. 2 - http://pastebin.com/XXNbz2eL
Pt. 3 - http://pastebin.com/XmwGASmg
Epilogue - http://pastebin.com/dNMDe7nT
Any of these particularly recommended above the others? I'm looking for something to get my feels on.
Of course dude.
Your stories have brought tears to my eyes, and warmness to my heart many a times. I know I'm not the only one who thinks this. You are a fantastic writer, and I look forward to see what you'll create in the future.
Yes bump. Gotta keep the fire burning, mang.
More like rump anon
let the record show I never really stopped crying
I've read a few of what >>25280769 & >>25286474 have said and agree with them. My personal favourite is Intimate Details and its sequel on FimFiction; it's humanised, OctaviaXRarity and heavy on the smut but my god the descriptions and how Octavia is portrayed pretty much sent me down the path of Tavi.
Jeff's stories were already posted so here's Love Conquers All.
If you're still lurking, what are you working on now? I generally try to keep track of what some writefags are up to, but I can't be arsed to trawl through a dozen generals.
Also, postan tired music horse to stay on topic.
You're shit, to be honest. I'm shaking my head, family.
This expand the donkey
>no mobstertavia fanfic
the tumblr shit of it has been dead for a while now right? Why has no one written about this anywhere?
I've been writing in the Nightly Scilight Thread a lot lately, as well as doing various other oneshots.
Haven't done anything Tavi related since Living in Circles. Would like to write more about my favorite cello horse, but I haven't had a good idea for her in a while.
Vinyl did it.
I talked, quite a few threads back, about a story about Anon making a cello for Octavia. I just kinda thought of this. Anon, who is a luthier, has started business to make a living. He could eventually meet Octavia who has come to his store in need of repairs, and so on and so forth.
>has to stay -39 degrees
At least try gallium first. At least then room temperature is still solid
>tfw can't cuddle though
>>25316736 This is mainly for you.
>As the day was slowly fading away, you had already cleaned up your shop. The woodchips that littered the floor were now in your woodstove with logs of hickory and poplar wood, bringing a soft warmth to you and any who entered.
>You were proud of your talents, stringing instruments for a living, sometimes making ones out of your own resources.
>Somepony bought one of your guitars for a shocking 1000 bits just because you got the blemish and wood texture just right to make them desperate.
>But as the day began to wind down, you started to dim the lights as you cracked your neck and knuckles. Another day had passed as you looked back at your workshop, seeing all the scattered tools, slim wood planks, and strings littering your work bench,
>However, a knock at your shop door didn't mean the day was quite over yet.
>"Excuse me, mister, is your shop still open?" You walk to the door in a rush, sparing no time as the cold autumn air had already chilled many bones this late in the day, and you had warmth.
>As your hand opened the door, you see a grey pony with a white collar and pink bow tie, with a solidly straight dark grey mane. Beside her was a Cello case, you could tell, a 1/8 size in your world, but here it was 4/4
"Yes?" you ask as you invite her in, the warmth of the door stove drawing her like a moth as she speaks. She slowly sets her Cello case on the ground.
>"I've a concerto to participate with in three days, and my Cello fell to an unfortunate accident."
"How bad? You ask as she opens the case with her hooves. Your jaw drops in shock.
>The neck was broken, the fingerboard splintered, and the scroll capped at the top.
"Oh dear Celestia," you mutter as you get on your knees beside Octavia, her sigh audible as you saw a couple strings tensed out beyond their limit.
>"Can you fix it?" She asks.
"Well, here's the thing. It'll take me a long time, but I can let you have a loaner while I try to work on this thing. It's..." you held the snapped neck's fingerboard in your fingers as you held the strings, "Kinda Fubar with the neck so I'll have to manufacture another one, along with a scroll, and getting so pegs for this, because they're a funny size here."
>The pegs on this Cello were about a half the size bigger than the standard. It made you a bit confused, but you shook your head as Octavia sighed.
>"When can you get me the loaner?" She asked as she looked away from her Cello.
"Right now," you say as you stand up, your knees popping as you take a walk behind your desk, passing the woodstove on the way.
>"Excuse me, Anon, if you don't mind, I'd like to sit near the stove. It's quite warm." Octavia asked shyly as if she seemed like a beggar who was asking for too much.
"Of course, get as warm as you need," you say, taking a slight detour as you grab your cashier chair, and set it a good five feet from the searing hot woodstove. "Come back here and get warm."
>"Thanks, Mister Anon."
"Call me Anon, or hell, Nonny just for the heck of it." You say this as you open your storage room, flicking a dusty light. In this room were abandoned instruments or the oldest ones around. You had a personal favorite of yours, a violin you found to be played in one of the recreations of Mars - The Bringer of War performed by a Boston Concerto.
>Ignoring it, you scroll your eyes down the walls, coming across a Cello you had restored from a landfill back when you were at your last home.
>You walk out, holding it in your arms at it's 1/8 size and taking one of your bows, and you sit at your workbench.
>"Anon, what are doing?" She asks with a raised brow.
"Im going to see if this baby is still tuned after all these years." You say as you place the bow on the strings accordingly, and almost in an instant, your fingers line the board as you place Joseph Bach's Bwv1007 Cello suit a good way, until you start to hear little to no imperfections in the song, seeing the Cello you saved still hadn't lost the touch you once gave to this Cello.
>As the piece falls to the high notes, you stop and look at her case, walking it over as Octavia applauds.
>"Anon, that was spectacular!" She says as she looks over to the Cello in your arms, your hands carefully placing it inside the case as you close it up, placing the bow on the outside holder.
"I have to do it to make sure they're still a good one. Besides, that's one of the decent pieces. Bach was nothing when I had these, but it was still beautiful." You say as you set her case up, and she looks at you.
>"It was." Octavia said as she took a look at the bow. You had finished it yourself, with a small signature saying "Anon. Co. Luthier Works." It was made from a sturdy Ashwood that seemed like it was fitting with the Cello.
"Alright, Listen Octavia. I only want you to do a few things."
>"Anon?" she said in a confused tone.
"You don't have to do them, but I just want you to so it'll make my worries ease off."
>"Uh..." She had no clue what you were talking of, but you could see a red on her face.
>"Oh thank Celestia, I thought you were another pervert." Octavia mused.
"No, just.... A few things. One, take great care of this Cello. I restored it myself. Because it was destroyed when I found it.
"If you want to have some of your payment lifted off since I'll be pulling an All-Nighter on that FUBAR situation, you'll have to either let me hear you play in person or grab me a ticket if you play in public."
>"I can do that, but is there anything else?"
I'll have to fag out some more in a while, going to go shoot up the old pumpkins.
May the writefags bless you.
Nah, University days is one of those super overrated fics alongside the like of my little dash, Past sins and fallout equestria. It's painfully average at best, same goes for Allegrezza.
Almost done with is. It's good, Better than Archmage for sure. Surprisingly it's his Rarity that i found to be great, sadly his Octavia is pretty meh. And his vinyl and twilight are, not so good honestly.
It's given praise where it really doesn't deserve that much praise.
>It's painfully average at best
How's that reading comprehension anon? Or are you just mad that i don't like your favorite fic so you have to lash out like most babbies who like overrated fics tend to do?
>implying I mentioned any of the fics in your post
>implying there was any lashing
I feel my comprehension is just fine. I'm saying that basing your perception of anything off of the level of attention it gets is in no way an accurate representation of it's merits.
Welp, might as well do it while >>25317177 and >>25317148 along with >>25317195 discuss fictions written by popular fan writers.
"I want you to perform your best with that dear Cello. She's not a cutesy one where you just play around, her strings are rough and deserve to be played at their best. By the best, by what I've heard. And so far, you're one of the few I'll loan it to."
>"Oh, Anon, you honestly like my playing?"
"Yes, and if anything," You say, walking to your workbench as you open a drawer, shuffling through stacks of stapled paper as you hand her what seems to be a handmade book of printed papers, "Try playing Bach yourself. The Cello Suite No. 1 by Bach."
>She takes them in her hoof, opening the case back up with her free hoof as she slides it in beside the Cello, and closes it up.
>"Thank you Anon, I'll be sure to take the greatest care of this." She says, picking it up as she hangs her case on her back, taking a slow walk to the door as she left for her home.
"Such a nice mare," You say to yourself as you walk to your dark corner, and light up a small gas lamp to give yourself a nostalgic feel.
>You put a match near the liquid-drenched ribbon of fiber as it slowly starts to light and you dim down the main lights for your shop, walking up the stairs as you grab a cup of coffee.
"Tonight's gonna be a long night," You say as Octavia's damaged Cello lays upon the workbench, and you take out your plane, your saw, tape measurer, and other tools necessary for fixing up Octavia's dearly beloved.
>Within minutes, you begin noting the length of the Neck, approximate fingerboard width, types of wood, blemishes, and many other key details.
>You night is long as you remove the old, damaged neck from Octavia's Cello carefully with nothing but a mirror, light, and a small hook used to grab nails and staples for removal.
>Halfway into your night, you have already finished the neck's basic length, angle, and width.
>Your last details were in the peg holes and making the Peg Box and Scroll like her trusted Cello.
>However you desire something more than the dead silence of the night, and you walk to the cabinet located in the adjacent corner next to your lamp.
>You open it up, revealing vinyl records as you examine the sides.
"Vivaldi... Eugen... Samuel Barber..." However, you stumble across one of your favorite albums. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, and his Concerto in B Minor. "Ah!"
>Slowly placing the record on the upwards side, you drop the needle gently as you turn your gramophone up and start the spinning.
>The music fills the shop, but not too loud.
>Just loud enough for you to hear, and it wasn't that loud either.
>As your hands went to work, your exacto knife, sandpaper, shine polish, and a small hand drill same to work under your power as you began to continue remanufacturing the cello you had to finish.
>As the night had passed in what seemed to be a flash, you had already constructed the neck, and connected it to the cello with careful strategies.
>The pegbox and scroll were already finished, as your arms rest on the table, having connected them as their fine texture of wood shined in the rising sun's like.
"Finished..." With that, you slowly pick it up, putting it on a holding rack as you lean back in your shop chair, stretching, and lay your head on the wood-chip littered table as your eyes close.
>Right now, it was sleepytime.
>As your head gentle eased off, what seemed like a few hours of sleep passed in a mere few minutes to you as you awoke, hearing a knock at the door as your eyes shuttered open and you shouted in your groggy state.
>The door opens, and Octavia is there to greet you as she looks at your bench, and the bags under your eyes.
>"Oh dear, Anon, did you really spend all night on my Cello?!" She said, seeing you walk over to the recieving desk you had built yourself while your rubbed your eyes to try and wake up.
"Yeah, well, the job's done." You say as you pick her Cello off of the stand you placed it on, showing her the almost near replicated scroll, with the exception of a few more spins in the wood, as you hold it out for her.
>"Anon, this is amazing!" She said as she examined her Cello. "How did you do this?
"Loads of practice," you retort as she smiles.
>"I'll be right back," Octavia says as she turns and canters outside, only to return with the Cello case she had.
>"Here," she says, gently lifting your Cello out of her case as you walk over, holding her Cello like a child being held by it's mother.
>You place it in her case as it rests comfortable like it did back before the damage, and the strings already on there, and replaced, but you really don't remember doing them.
"Just so you know," You say with a yawn, "You may have to tune them."
"Yeah?" You answer as you rub your face,
>"Tonight, do you mind if I come by with this again? So you can tune it? I honestly want to hear you play, it's almost amazing every time you do."
"I'll give it a try," you say as you slowly place your precious Cello on the stand where you sat Octavia's, and stretch. "I require more sleep before I can process this request." You say as you then lose track of your thoughts, letting out an "aaaaaaa," before realizing you just went braindead for a second, and shake your head.
>"What was that, Anon...?" Octavia asks, trying not to giggle.
"Brain dot E X E has stopped."
>She laughs, not knowing what an E-X-E was, but it was still quite funny to her as she turned around to leave.
>"I'll see you tonight then, Anon?" Octavia says with glee.
"Yeah, if I don't become attached to my blankets," you reply before heading up the stairs. The oil lamp burnt out, and the record player had already stopped, as Octavia closed the door before leaving, and you head went to your room.
>As soon as your head hit that pillow, and your arms curled the blanket over you, you practically died in that bed, not responding to a single thing the world had.
>As the night had came upon itself, you had already cleaned up shop, your T.O.D in that bed being around noon, but your wake up time being at 6:00 P.M. You had went outside and gotten firewood to keep your shop and home warm as you sit in your work bench area. You already put the Cello away, and you were in your suit, with black coat and pants with a tie, but no vest. Your shirt was a blank white but the cuffs had small links you had kept from your very first suit.
>However, as you turned off the worklight and began to vacate, a knock came to your door.
"Come in," You say as you adjust your tie.
>"Anon!" She says as you turn to face her. She carried the Cello in her case, which rested upon her back as she stepped inside. "You look sharp. Is this for me or because you're going to be playing?"
"Playing, because I rarely ever joke about the music." You say as you take the case off of her back, and she looks at you, almost admiringly.
>"Where will you go to play?" She asks as you shrug.
"Upstairs, the main room is big enough for me, and not so crowded by utilities."
"Ah, well," she says as she shrugs and you start to walk up the stairwell, the lights bright up on the second floor.
Damn, forgot to green that last bit, and I skipped a spacing on the enter key...
>Your main room has a couch, or more or less a futon, and a reclining chair, along with a small coffee table, with a can of soda on it. There's a lamp on a corner table and you have a CRT Television with an antenna on a media bay with a game system you took with you to this new world: the SNES with Mario Kart, Super Metroid, Tetris 2, and a few others.
>"Wow, Anon. Your place is pretty clean," Octavia says as she puts her hooves on your clean and shining hardwood floors.
"I try to keep it nice," you say as you sit on your futon, scooting the coffee table away from it as you open the case and place the Cello of Octavia's in the position you had always known as the pegbox rested on your shoulder. "Ready?" You ask.
>"Indeed," She says, taking a seat on the recliner as you remove the bow from the case and gently grind a string.
>Soon, your fingers started to take a slow movement as your hand began to move that bow across those strings like a warm knife through butter
Here's the song, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wK1Ini9Aoxk
>As you take the slow and gentle largo pace, you keep in touch with the music before you stop at the final movement in the small, one-minute piece as you remove the bow and nod.
"Works," you mutter as you place the cello back in Octavia's case as she stared at you, almost like she just seen a phenomena.
>"Anon, that was really good!" She says as she widens her eyes for a second before she gasps. "By the way Anon, those ticket for the show is inside the Bow pocket!"
>You don't hesitate as you slowly reach inside the bow holder, and slowly pull out an envelope that had a fancy signature, almost like henscratch. It read, "From the Royal Concerto."
>As you opened it up, a small letter slowly dropped out onto your lap.
Gonna fag later after shopping.
>you will never cuddle octavia
>you will never quell her shivers of troubled sleep
>you will never see her scrunch her nose at your touch and relax into your arms with a soft smile
>you will never plant a soft kiss on her sleeping head as you drift into sleep with your waifu
>You will never feel her delicate hoof as it crashes against your skull as you try to play her Cello without consent.
Don't start on cello anatomy in an Octavia thread. It's a dark, dark road.
pfffftahaha. You are better off just going into fanfiction at this point, cause if the mane6 haven't got any character development since the show started, don't count on a background pony getting any. the comics don't count since they are dc/marvel tier written garbage
>mane 6 haven't gotten any character development
more times than not, they have character development, but people completely ignore it
or instead focus on something else stupid
there has been development, you just haven't looked
here's some octavia
Needs more Cello.
Needs more cute horse.
And they never returned
Anyone have the pastebin/screen cap of where octavia is depressed and wants to suidided but anon comes along and stays with her? Eventually he gets sick and dies and Octavia is old n frail. Anyone?
Here you go m8. Now onto dumb stories.
>You're not upset
>Seriously, you're not!
>That idiot stallion has no idea what he's missing, not coming home with you
>The joke's really on him, thinking you were in your thirties
>You're only twenty-two!
>What an absolute idiot
>If he couldn't realize what a catch was right in front of him, practically begging (though not really begging, you'd never stoop THAT low) to take him home, then he deserves to go home by himself
>Nope, you're not mad in the slightest
>In fact, you could laugh! Ha!
>That loser's probably going to cry himself to sleep tonight, knowing what a great mare he let slip through his hooves
>Whereas you, meanwhile, are going to have a nice, quiet Friday night
>All by yourself
>Just like last Friday
>And the Friday before that...
>And every day in between
>Not that you need other ponies to be happy, of course not! You're so happy by yourself, it really is exactly what you want!
>When you get to your apartment, you find your hooves shaking as you try to get the key into the lock
>And when you finally stumble inside, you find that your apartment has become blurry and distorted
>That's pretty weird
>Raising a hoof to your face, you find tears spilling down across your coat
>Yep, that sure is strange
>After all, why should you be crying?
>It's not like you're bitterly, utterly alone or anything...
>You drop your keys to the floor, and collapse onto the couch
>Forcing yourself to roll over, you stare up at your ceiling, biting your lip to stem your crying
>Which is a stupid thing to do, since you're not upset
>You're just stressed, that's it
>Your performance schedule's been hell lately, that's all
>It's not like you're actually SAD that none of those losers wanted to take you home
>You'll get a stallion next time!
>Tonight was just a bad night, you were off your game
>Sure, you technically haven't been laid yet, but you're so close!
>If you had actually gotten a chance to meet a decent stallion, you'd have sealed the deal for sure
>No, you're not sad
>So... why can't you stop crying?
>The effort required in dragging yourself off the couch is practically herculean
>Your hind legs don't seem to want to cooperate, and you end up flopping into your bedroom like a dying fish
>Your cello stands in the corner of the room, locked in its case, seeming to stare disapprovingly down at you
>You roll onto your back and stare up at it, using the instrument to drag yourself up to your hooves
>Might as well practice, you figure...
>It's not like you have anything better to do
Bored at work, sketched a qt donk.
I'm trying to get better at drawfagging, I'm entirely new to it.
Liking it so far, keep it up m8.
Which is a hilarious statement, considering this whole conversation is based around sexualizing a cartoon horse.
I do agree though, half this goddamn board is dedicated to weird-ass fetishes and I hate it.
>Your back pops as you drag the cello out of its case, hauling it on your withers into your livingroom
>As usual, you take your place in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the middle of your practice space, standing regally before it as you pose behind your instrument
>The majesty of your own posture takes your breath away
>How can those loser stallions not see how incomparably gorgeous you are, how splendid your gray coat is, and how poised and elegant is every little move you make?
>They're simply too stupid, you decide
>Taking a deep breath, you draw your bow across the strings, a sharp, clear sound reverberating through your room, seeming to hum through your very bones
>The sheer beauty of it captivates you, and you lock eyes with your mirror self, each of you appreciating the miracle of your parallel self's music
>Again you draw your bow, shifting to a diminished-fifth arpeggio, the low mournful tones seeming to claw at your heart
>A dirge, you decide, you'll play a dirge
>A dirge for the pathetic, mopey stallions who gave up on such a magnificent creature
>You music is the embodiment of sorrow, a single cry of despair split into twenty dozen notes that leak from your cello strings
>Your neighbors must hate you
>When the song finishes, mirror-Octavia is sweating, and you think you can see tears in her eyes
>Doubly odd, because you almost feel them in your own eyes
>Which is odd, because you're certainly nod SAD or anything
>Hell, you're not even disappointed
>How could anyone ever be disappointed, or sad, or soul-crushingly lonely, or filled with despair at the thought of dying in abject loneliness... when they're as gorgeous and as talented as you?
>Why, it's absolutely crazy
Life happens nigga - Have a musical horse
This thread is pretty good, let's keep it alive.
Also, by any chance, anyone know what an ideal temporary video hosting site would be? Working on some MLP cello stuff, and thought you lot might appreciate it.
I don't have any real content to post and the last few times I've come to bump with an image someone's beat me to it