• Member Since 12th Nov, 2020
  • offline last seen Jan 16th, 2023

GermanBrony_12


Hello I am Gerhaus. I am the gay man in Düsseldorf.

E

While out enjoying the “natural scenery,” Featherbangs is pummeled by a fruity rain, leaving him critically injured. Big Macintosh is riddled with guilt and sadness over his crimes. Can his regret engender a greater fate for the both them?

Chapters (3)
Comments ( 4 )

This was a cute story. I liked the way Big Mac felt duty-bound to help Featherbangs, and the relationship grew from that initial feeling. You've got an extensive vocabulary, but I think you can pull back a bit on it. Phrases like "succulent neck" and "florid fields" make the story feel overwrought at times, and a simpler description would do. It would also give you more time to focus on how Big Mac's emotions are evolving, which could use more breathing room. That said, there's a poetry to this story that I really appreciated, and it's clear that you care a lot about these ponies. Fun story overall. :heart:

For the past week this stallion had been lurking near the orchard every afternoon: same time, same place, same enamoured gaze. Big Macintosh had hoped he’d simply leave if he waited long enough and at last he could be free of distractions, but alas, he continued with his irksome ways even after seven unvarying days.

“Hey there, apple-boy! Don’t mind me, I just can’t get enough of this rustic scenery! All these apples are like a flock of cardinals swooping through the green grasses of a leafy prairie!"

really love the voice here. it’s a shitposting style i use often so it’s always great to see in prose 

Big Macintosh turned back to his work, bucking the nearest tree with all of his strength before beginning his journey to the barn. The great boughs of the apple tree quivered and surrendered their scrumptious crimson fruit. Featherbangs, still mesmerised by the “rustic scenery,” found himself assaulted by blood-red hailstones of fruit, each filled with the frustration of its harvester.

Not noticing his troublesome observer, Big Mac nearly finished his journey to the barn before he heard the hard slap of flesh on soil. Big Mac whipped his succulent neck back towards the source of the dreadful noise, allowing his soft, amber bangs to flutter to the opposite side of his face.

love the purpleness of the prose, and the description of Big Mac’s neck as “succulent” 

A stentorian pounding echoed through Ponyville; it was the fierce pounding of Big Macintosh’s hoof on the door of Dr.Horse’s office. The solemn stallion opened the door to the handsome steed, panting and sweating, barely able to explain his urgency. He pushed past the doctor and slid the precious parcel onto the bed to be examined.

the poetry! the alliteration! honestly i am really into it

He should have known that his powerful haunches would lead to a catastrophe at some point, but he was a fool. He was too careless. He deserved nothing more in this world.

augh what wonderful melodrama

“What’s your relationship to the patient?”

Big Macintosh paused, what was their relationship? Something like ‘stranger’ obviously wouldn’t pass, and even he felt that couldn’t truly describe how he felt about the pony. He glanced to the side, then back to the mare at the counter.

“Friend,” he said, looking her in the eyes.

if this is not a riff on the classic trope i am forcing such an interpretation on it because this is great

Featherbangs chuckled a bit and weakly flipped his mane.

“Eeyup,” he said, playfully imitating his sole visitor.

that you know all the elements of a good Big Mac x Featherbangs story yet choose not to write a straightforward one is both a respectable power move and a testament to the strength of the ship 

He closed the door behind him and walked out into the silent hallways of the building, a single tear rolling down his face.

perfect

“Which one’s the gift, the package or you?” he said, winking and flipping his hair.” I think I know which one I prefer.”

gottem

The baker beside him moved closer, leaning toward his face. He lifted his other hoof and brushed aside his fluffy frosted bangs, gazing into his verdant eyes. Featherbangs froze, unable to speak. The two were silent, each enraptured by the other’s eyes, flawlessly illuminated by the orange light of the setting sun.

so true bestie

Maybe it would be okay to decorate it with some flowers sometime…

chapter title drop!

The moonlight softly shone through the curtains upon a single spot: a single feather on the dusty wooden floor.

Featherbangs. How he longed to see those emerald eyes, mesmerising like no other. It was early, but he could rest no longer.

love it

He could feel his heart pounding as he grew nearer and nearer to the hospital, each step as laboured as a plough-bound ox, yet filled with a certain longing which drove him ever closer to that room.

augh love this simile. especially fun because he is also literally a horse

“Big Mac… Don’t ever leave me again. You are the air I need to breathe - the blood that keeps me alive. I can’t bear another moment without you.”

so true bestie

“Eeyup,” he said, choking back tears as he grasped the pony before him. He didn’t want to spend another night like the last. He could no longer take the cold, lonesome nights. There was somepony he needed now: Featherbangs.

He pulled away from the pony, gazing into his glistening clover-green eyes. He leaned closer, closing his eyes, and wrapped his lips around Featherbangs’.

“Stay with me..” He whispered and gently closed the door of the private ward.

and augh, what a heartwarming ending. thank you so much for it!

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