Damsels in Armor

by CowgirlVK

First published

Big Mac is feeling ashamed after the latest sisterhooves social. So after some unwanted teasing, he goes off to think about his actions.

(TRIGGER WARNING! This story is not Politically Correct)

Now that that childish cultural piece of business is out of the way.

Big Mac wore a dress! Granted it was so that his sister could compete. But Big Macintosh Apple had worn a dress! Now as the talk of the town, a certain stallion has a lot to think about. Fortunately for him, he has a sister who's just as stubborn as he is to talk it out with.

(Inspired but the episode, Brotherhooves Social)

Deep Thought

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It was a normal summer day. Big Macintosh Apple threw his weight into the harness as he fought the troublesome root in the garden patch.

“Afternoon, Big Mac!” Apple Bloom said, trotting home with her two friends.

“Hey Big Mac!” echoed the other two.

“Hey,” Scootaloo said, stopping Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. “So... Orchard Blossom?”

Big Mac froze, his cheeks going a deeper shade of red. “Uh...”

Sweetie looked embarrassed. “Scoots!” She tugged on the orange tomboy. “Must you?”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked, unfazed by her friend’s actions. “Why did you dress up?”

“Uh-” Big Mac stuttered, “Nope!” He unhitched himself from the plow and started yelling, “EeNOPE, nope, eenope!” as he ran across the field, leaving the fillies in the dust.

Big Mac was unsure how long he had run, only that it had been for quite a while, nor was he quite sure why. It had happened, and he had been more than willing to explain it to Apple Bloom, but to her friends-

He froze solid in the middle of one of the back orchards. “Nope!” he said out loud.

Slowly he made his way over to a large stone and sat down. He thought back over his life. He wasn’t that old, not compared to Granny anyways, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been through things.

He had two sisters, his grandmother had raised him, and, like Spike, he had almost no male friends.

Big Mac sighed. Here his sister was one of the Elements of Harmony, and he still had almost no close friends.

He looked out over the lush orchard. Small specks of red, orange, and shades of green dusted the landscape below. Above, puffy white clouds dotted the sky.

Again, he sighed. “Eenope,” he mumbled, “Nope.” Just because he grew up with mares didn’t mean he didn’t understand how stallions thought, nor did it make him any less of a stallion.

On a small branch a small damselfly landed, the sun reflecting off its skin, turning it numerous different colors. Big Mac smiled. “Hey little friend, you look the way ah feel,” he mumbled to it.

The damselfly tilted its head a little, but otherwise didn’t move.

Big Macintosh’s mind drifted back to Apple Bloom's dragonfly toy. A lone tear slipped from his giant eye and trickled down his cheek.

The truth of the matter was, that wasn’t the first time he had ever dressed up like a mare. When he had been younger and both of his sisters were into playing house, he found it very common for him to be somehow cast as the baby, or worse, mommy.

If they had been playing Dragons and Damsels, he of course would play the pitiful damsel that had to be rescued.

And the time Applejack had decided to do an opera for school, he of course played the fat lady at the end. It was how he had ended up with that costume to begin with.

He had no father, no grandfather, and his uncles all lived a great distance away. In truth, his grandmother had been the one to raise him, and he had two very strong-willed little sisters. Of course he understood the ways of the mare.

According to a book he read, and in his own life he had decided it to be true, when a colt is raised by a mare and has a bunch of sisters, he would be gentler. The opposite was true when it came to fillies—if they were around stallions a lot, then they’d be rougher.

He watched as the damselfly buzzed off and away. If wearing a dress so he could take part in the Sisterhooves Social with his sister meant he was less of a stallion, then Dash wasn’t a mare because she loved to be cool!

“Hey, Big Mac, why’d ya run off like that?”

Big Mac looked up. Trotting from a different direction came Applejack, her blond mane flying, her stetson leaning forward just slightly so the wind couldn’t rip it off her head as she ran.

Big Mac looked down. “Nutin’,” he mumbled.

Applejack paused and looked her brother over. “No, ah know ya. What happened?”

Big Macintosh refused to answer, instead, plucking a tall bahiagrass and sticking it in his mouth.

Applejack walked slowly over and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “Come on Big Mac, ya can trust me? Dern Tootin’ ah’m yer little sister.”

“Eeyup,” he mumbled.

She sat down with a plop. “Alright, what’s eatin’ at ya?”

“Nutin,” he mumbled again.

“Eenope!” Applejack fired at him, “Ah can see it when a bur gets under mah brother’s saddle. So, are ya gunna remove it, or do ah have to pry it off?”

The elder brother didn’t say anything.

“It’s about them fillies, ain’t it?” Applejack asked.

Big Mac again didn’t answer.

“Ah thought ah hit the nail on the head,” she said smugly. “So, what did they say ta ya?”

“Sisterhooves Social,” Big Mac mumbled under his breath.

“Yer gunna have ta speak up,” Applejack scolded him, “What did they say?”

“Ah ain’t Apple Bloom!”

Applejack staggered back, both eyebrows firing straight up, her hat toppling from her head. “Big Mac!”

Big Mac just stood there stunned. Slowly Applejack got back up to her hooves and dusted herself off. “Alright, what happened?”

Big Mac sighed deeply. “Nutin’,” he grumbled again.

The orange mare glared, then sent a well-aimed slap towards the stubborn stallion’s head.

Fire was in his orange eyes now. He stood and almost slapped her back, then froze. He couldn’t! In a defeated manner he lay back down.

Applejack whacked him again. This time, not half as hard as she had. “Come on!” She got right down at eye level, nose to nose, forehead to forehead. “Spill it!”

He snorted. “Fine,” he grunted, “Sisterhooves Social! Happy now?”

Applejack’s demeanor melted. “Finally,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck, “Rainbow told me about that.”

“Eeyup,” he said.

“Ya didn’t win.”

“Nope.”

Applejack sighed, “But ya sure are the talk of the town.”

Big Mac cringed.

Applejack smiled sadly. Rubbing a hoof up and down her brother’s buff shoulder, she continued. “Ah might not feel comfortable with the whole idea of my brother, a full grown stallion, in a dress, despite the fact Twi tells me it’s traditional where Zecora is from.” She shivered. “But Ah appreciate yer reasons. Ya did it not only for Apple Bloom, but for me. Just like all those other times ya let me be the hero and were willin’ ta let me rescue ya. Ah know it wasn’t normal like, but it’s the way it was when were were foals.”

Brother’s eyes met sister’s. The memories were there—all they needed was a look to come to the surface. “Eeyup.”

Applejack nodded, “So, did ya really- go Rarity?”

Big Mac blushed a deep crimson once more.

“Ah’ll take that as a yes,” Applejack stated. Standing up, she turned towards the house. “Dinner will be ready in a bit. But ah think ya need ta talk with them fillies. A stallion never runs away from his problems, only fillies do.” She winked, then trotted home.

Once more, the glened became quiet once more. Big Macintosh Apple just lay there not doing anything. No, he wasn’t a stallion in armor. He was just a simple farmer doing what he needed to keep his sisters happy and fed. If that meant being a clown about it, so be it. He dragged a house for Cheerilee and wore a dress for his sisters. Nothing, nothing in Equestria could be labeled beyond what he would, or could do after this.

After several more minutes of silence, Big Mac rose to his hooves and took off in the direction of the Cutie Mark Clubhouse.