>>6070 Cheerilee is great in my book. She loves electrodynamics. That's based as hell.

>>5402 I like Sweetie Belle much better with this cutie mark. The CMCs all having nearly identical cutie marks never sat well with me.

>>16921 word

>>16921 It's an absolute shame what they have done with CMC. Sweetie should have had a singer's cutie mark, Apple Bloom something apple to emphasize the family bond and Scootaloo should have had something related to agility

>>16838 Thanks Your Majesty!

>>16838 Is Celestia a time traveler?

>>16840 No Luna is. She is pulling a prank on Celestia moving her back a day.

Happy Tuesday!

>>16896 My Tuesday has been very happy, thank you Princess Celestia!

>>5473 >Wonderbolts uniform >Panties underneath Excellent combo.

>>15060 They take "breakfast is the most important meal" very seriously. I bet the mornings with them are wonderful.

>>15127 I've always liked the idea of Celestia mentoring Twilight. I just wish we got to see an episode of Celestia doing that before Twilight was sent to Ponyville (I don't mean like when she got admitted to the school; just real legit mentoring).

Happy Summer Sun Celebration! Celestia reigns!

How heavy is a snowpone coat?

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/543593/lights-going-out New story.

>>16798 Looooooonnnnnnnggggggggg!

dead again lmao

4chan is kill so have some mares

>>16795 Here you go, more mares

what haooened to 4?

>>16796 CUUUUUTE

>>16728 I'm a fan of rum so she's the Princess for me.

>>16728 What sort of rum would she like the most?

>>16735 'Navy Rum' since it is the best for improving the morale on ships and a favorite of scruffy sailor ponies. Plus, it probably tastes good. Downside is that it is apparently expensive and rare. However, since she's a princess she can probably afford it.

>>16714 That's an amazing pic. I love it.

>>16730 hmm, it gets in more serious tone than I thought it would

>>16730 >The flickering candles sent the shadows quietly dancing about the room as if they were consumed by a happy madness. Filaments of light moved across the Countess, seemingly animating her motionless form. In the gloom, the vibrant purple of her irises emitted an unwholesome glow. Adjusting to the sudden increase in darkness, Anon squinted. The Countess lay on the sofa before him. He blinked and she was instantaneously gone from that position and was now standing near the coffee table with a smile. >Inability to understand the dark magic at work here caused beads of sweat to roll down from Anon’s brow into his eyes. He blinked again, involuntarily, from the drop of sweat. Again she vanished from her position by the table, instantaneously reappearing, as Anon opened his eyes, at the high-backed chair a pace and half from him. His heart raced, his eyes locked to hers, and he dared not speak out of terror. He observed her grin now grow wider. As she did, glints of light reflected off her now revealed fangs. >Now a slow pursuit began. Anon stepped back and the Countess forward. Step by step they moved across the room, one hunting the other. One subsumed by fear, the other brimming with dominance and power. This creeping dance continued, until Anon reached the limit of his travel. Stepping back, his leg pressed against something wooden. Placing his hand back to feel what it was, and casting a quick glance over his shoulder, he could see that it was the bed. Just as quickly, he brought his gaze back to the Countess. >The Countess smirked, licked a fang, and cocked her head to one side. Softly, in whispery tones she said, “What now, Anon? What will you do? Perhaps, perhaps, acceptance of fate is an appropriate course of action. Is it not?” Out of the corner of his eye, Anon could see the door. By the strength that shear terror induced in a man, he could surely tear it open. He grabbed the bed post closest the door, in order to propel himself as he bolted. >There was a standoff. Anon watched the Countess, and the Countess watched Anon. He tightened his grip on the post. He took a slow breath. He readied his muscles to jolt him to the door. >The Countess maintained her grin while her eyes moved slowly in the direction of the door, as if to dare Anon. “You think so?” Anon frowned with resolve. He let out a small bit of breath and caught it suddenly. Just as suddenly, and with all the agility he could muster, he turned to spring toward the door. >But there, suddenly in the path he intended to dash through, was the Countess smiling and menacing as before. Anon caught himself with the bedpost before he fell over. Standing once more, his eyes fell upon hers. He felt drawn in to those violet pools; captivated completely and lost in their poison. >”Yes, Anon. Unfortunately, it was inevitable,” said the Countess sweetly, “And now the game is coming to an end.”

>>16736 True. But, I am going to take it in a more light hearted direction later, in various places. So, it will have heart here and there, like in the initial train scene. For now, in these scenes, I wanted to try and make it something like the old black-and-white horror films: spooky, creepy, mildly scary, but without blatant violence and gore in the form of characters being torn apart or dying in horribly graphic ways. I find the latter kind of horror distasteful and lacking subtlety (it's too "on the nose" for me). I intend this story to become comfy in many ways later on, but with a few dark twists (again, noting viscerally violent or distasteful). Hopefully, the reader comes away with a sense of connection to each of the characters. That's my hope anyway. I'll probably need to do a lot of re-writing later to get to that though.

>>16742 The purple of her eyes grew in his vision until he felt it submerge his consciousness. His body relaxed of its own volition and grew lethargic; his grip on the bed post loosened against his will and his arm dropped to his side. >Under the poison of the Countess’s dark force, Anon now moved according to her will. He stepped backwards, passed the footboard and up the side of the bed, eyes still locked on the Countess’s eyes. “As I explained earlier, things know better than to disobey me, even your own body,” she cooly explained. Feeling like an observer in his own mind, Anon felt himself climb onto the bed and lay on his back. >In another moment, there was vibration in the mattress as the Countess stepped on to the bed. She stepped over and straddled Anon, looking down at him face to face. As poisoned by darkness as he consciousness was, nothing could terrify Anon more than the vision of the Countess that was now only a short space away from his face. Long razor sharp fangs dripping with saliva were paired with a devilish grin. Her pupils, once round, were now slits like a predator about to kill its victim. The hair in her coat bristled and stood on end. Most unnerving of all, strands of her mane whipped wildly in different directions as if propelled by unseen currents of black intent. He guessed her intent. Anon focused his mind, and with all his might he managed to bring his hands up to cover his neck. Lacking strength, it was accomplished with the speed of molasses. >The Countess watched with amusement and let out a wild laugh. After this, she shook her head and simply asked, “No?” Anon could only glare back at her and see how she would respond. >The Countess smirked as a cunning look twisted its way on to her face. She moved her left hind hoof between Anon’s legs and ran it up, gently and slowly, along the inside of his thigh. Raising her chin a bit as her hoof reached its destination, she pressed it firmly into Anon’s groin. “I will drink from you tonight, Anon. But there are other places I can draw from besides your neck!” The statement was made with the sharpness of a threat and Anon felt it enter his soul, through his ears as well as his groin. Mustering as much focus as before, he lowered his hands from his neck; complete capitulation. >The Countess let out a small, throaty chuckle and glanced momentarily between her legs toward his groin. “Mmmm! As exotic a creature as you are, it seems you keep your genitals in about the same place as a stallion.” Internally, Anon was horrified and desired nothing more than to escape. However, under her power his face remained blank. >Nevertheless, it seemed the Countess knew what he was thinking, for her expression grew sympathetic. “Come, come, Anon. Is it not exhilarating to be hunted,” — She licked her fangs again — “to be caught…to be consumed?” She paused before continuing. “You can enjoy this, Anon. Or, you can resist,” — She nodded her head — “Or, you can experience it in terror!” >The countess removed her hoof from Anon’s groin and replaced it along his side. Then she lowered her weight on to Anon’s chest. >”The taste varies. Savory with fear. Spicy with resistance. Sweet when willing,” she again whispered. >Seeming to feel Anon’s thoughts in response, the Countess wasted no further time. Her mouth opened and she craned her neck towards his. Anon felt the needles plunge slowly into his neck, followed by the Countess’s lips forming a seal on his skin. The blood begin to leave his body, and life force with it. After a moment, he felt his arms lifted by her dark power and brought over her withers in a tight embrace. As by a drug, his consciousness slipped into ethereal depths, the warmth of her body on his the last of his observations.

>>16752 The Castle at Night: >Anon had lost consciousness — by the Countess’s own design to spare him the additional terror — but she continued to savor his blood. Thick and resplendent with flavors and tones unknown to her, as well as the silvery coolness of bits of soul, she drank it slowly down. Drinking slowly was as much to savor it as it was to avoid drinking too much. The Countess was judicious, and desired just enough for herself while leaving Anon enough to live and recover. >As she drank, she became more satiated and relaxed. Moreover, the weight of Anon’s arms upon her, though forced there by her dark arts, and his warmth was calming. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. The serenity of the feeling tore down her guard and she let out a satisfied, “Mmmmm.” >All the previous indications of ferocity were now gone. Her coat no longer bristled. Her true-black mane fell lank and beautiful over her withers, shoulder, and forelegs. Beneath her eyelids, her pupils were again circular and normal. >Coming to the final desired gulp, the Countess cautiously pulled away, severing her connection to his life force, his thoughts, and, his feelings. Her lips were the last to leave as they sopped up remaining blood, but her tongue did the rest to clean up the remainder until blood stopped flowing from the two needle holes. >She now looked down on Anon’s face, free of terror and submerged in deep sleep. >”Now sleep well, Anon,” she said with a smile, “dream well, and awake rested.” It was as much a true sentiment as an order that carried with it the force of her dark power. >The Countess levitated Anon’s arms to the bed, stood up, and moved to the edge of the bed. Before hoping down she looked back over her withers and levitated a blanket over him. >As she traversed the room, the candle holders replenished themselves with new candles, logs in the fireplace arranged themselves before roaring to life with flames, and a pitcher of water and cup placed themselves upon the nightstand by the bed for Anon. Finally, the shutters obeyed their master by unlatching and opening to let the starlight in through the window. >Quietly as shadow, the Countess opened the door and left, closing it behind her but leaving it unlocked. >Setting out to find the trio of mares, the Countess roamed the hallways of her castle. The same opposed mirrors that had reflected Anon into infinity, reflected nothing at all as she passed in the dimness of candle and moon light. The paintings of the previous holders of her station looked down upon her from their perches with approval as she passed by. >Many thoughts now passed through her mind regarding the strange creature that had wandered fearlessly into her web. Where had he truely come from and why? Why hadn’t she come across him sooner or felt his presence in Equestria?

>>14802 >Gryphons aren't actually greedy, they just have some bizarre ingrained coping mechanism for losing the Crystal Empire Could be an interesting idea to develop.

why the writers hated other species that arent horses,this could have griffonstone but no, they thought griffons being jews was funny

Fluffy hugs!

>>15800 The writers were just stupid, it's underage troglodytes that keep pushing that juice shit. Gryphon enjoyers don't acknowledge that garbage.

This gryphon looks a bit strange.

Maud deserves to have her ponut and dock licked.

>>8664 I can agree with that.