Burn and Replant (Incest, Fluttershy sister)


                                            >The cinders climbed into the sky, but all she could do was watch. The others from the building sat or stood beside her, watching it go up in flames.

                                            >She had saved Angel, a bag and a photo of her and her two brothers that they had taken at Zephyr's graduation.

                                            >The rest of it was gone. Angel curled up in her lap, shivering in the late summer night air. She couldn't even take a mental inventory of all she had lost, not in her current state.

                                            >For the last 2 hours, her apartment building had been burning. The flames were finally starting to die down, but all that remained of her once cheap apartment was a burnt carcass, twisted and still smouldering.

                                            >A car slammed on the brakes at the end of the street, the two fire engines allowing it to move no further. Fluttershy forced herself to look away from what had been her house for the last year and noticed two figures stepping out of the car, one of them running down the street towards her while the other locked up.

                                            >And at last, her brother came into view.


                                            >You had been awakened by a frantic, panicked call from your mother. Fluttershy, your baby sister, had called her, explaining in an apparently dead tone that her place had been set ablaze. Immediately, you and Gilda piled into your car and rushed through busy Manehatten traffic to get to her place.

                                            >You saw her sitting down on the curb, looking towards you with a nearly blank stare.

                                            >Quickly, you reached her.

                                            >You weren't quite sure what to say. Fluttershy may not have been as well off as you, but she had worked hard to live in Manehatten, following her passion. She loved her little place in Snooflyn. Sure, it looked like a tiny abandoned asbestos factory, but it had been her abandoned asbestos factory of an apartment.

                                            >Rather than say anything at all, you sat beside her quietly and turned to face the flames with her.

                                            >For a number of minutes, it felt as if it was just the two of you staring into the smouldering ruins.

                                            >But no silence lasts forever. You scratched at your missing eye, then spoke.

                                            "This probably goes unsaid, but I've got a spare room at my place. I can put you up for the night."

                                            >Flutters nodded.

                                            >"Thanks."

                                            >You chewed on nothing.

                                            "For more than just the night. As long as you need, Flutters."

                                            >"Thank you."

                                            >You turned, noticing the little awful ball of fur in her lap, shivering.

                                            >Your right eye, the one that was not there, burned.

                                            "One pet."

                                            >"I know."

                                            >You nodded, knowing that she, of all people, understood.

                                            "How long do you want to stay?"

                                            >Flutters blinked, sitting there quietly for a few seconds before answering.

                                            >"Couple more minutes. I... Not sure I'll sleep tonight."

                                            "Reasonable."

                                            >Eventually, Gilda joined you, sitting on the opposite side of your body from Flutters.

                                            >"So, what happened?" She asked bluntly.

                                            >"Hello, Gilda," Flutters said quietly. "Don't know yet. Started three floors below my place. Probably electrical. They'll find out later."

                                            >"Did you have insurance on your shit?"

                                            >You turned to witheringly glare at your girlfriend. Gilda held up her hands in surrender.

                                            >"Can't remember." Flutters admitted.

                                            "This is a conversation for later. For now, we should start making our way back."

                                            >You stood up and helped your sister to her feet. You refused to take Angel from her, wanting as little to do with her awful animals as possible, but you let her lean on you as the three of you walked back to your car.

                                            "Want me to pick anything up on the way back? I've got tea, coffee and food back at my place, but if you want a pillow or a blanket or something, I can try and find somewhere open."

                                            >"Thanks, but no. I just..."

                                            >She trailed off. Couldn't blame her.

                                            >The three of you piled into your car, Gilda wordlessly taking the rear seats while Flutters sat up front with you. Typically, Gilda would kick up a mighty fuss if she couldn't drive, never mind sit shotgun. But, clearly, this wasn't the time.

                                            >The drive back was in total silence. None of you could find anything to say. A billion conversation starters flashed across your sleep-addled mind, but they were either so mundane as to be complete drivel or too much to force your sister to comment on.

                                            >You parked in the underground garage beneath your building, and the three of you clambered into the elevator.

                                            >Flutters had been to your place about twice before in the last three years that the both of you had been living in Manehatten, never for more than a weekend. This time, you had no idea how long she'd be here for.

                                            >Once the doors opened on the 16th floor, the three of you stumbled in silence to the doorway, the first rays of dawn peaking across the horizon and starting to blanket the city in their cold light. The city never sleeps, all the lights keeping her alive in the dark, but it always seemed to become... Stiller, deader, at dawn.

                                            "Alright, here we are," you said eventually, opening the door.

                                            >Your place was not bad. You certainly paid enough rent to make sure of that. A large foyer immediately moved onto a large combination living and dining room, and the kitchen squirrelled off to the side. Some of Gilda's art lined the halls, adding vibrant colours to an otherwise sterile place.

                                            >Flutter's pink hair stood out from the white walls and light brown floors.

                                            >Gilda stretched her toned arms out and yawned.

                                            >"Right, I've gotta wake up tomorrow, so I'mma head back to bed. You two have fun."

                                            >If Flutters was annoyed at Gilda's casual attitude, she didn't show it; instead, she held up Angel and showed the rabbit around like it was an actual person. She moved into the living room and fell into the leather couch while Gilda walked back into the bedroom, taking off her top before she even passed the threshold and throwing herself into your bed.

                                            >You closed the door to your room behind her, then turned to face Fluttershy.

                                            >You sat next to her, content to be in silence once more.

                                            >"Angel won't cause trouble, Anon."

                                            >Your mouth twitched, itching at your missing eye.

                                            "I know. One pet only, Flutters. I won't have my place overwhelmed with animals."

                                            >You glanced at the mirror in your living room, and a single true green eye, the other dull, stared back.

                                            >"How long can I stay here?"

                                            >You scratched your chin, looking away from your own reflection.

                                            "Dash stayed here for four months before she got her own place. I don't need another lodger to pay rent. But we'll likely get sick of each other's company after that amount of time."

                                            >She frowned.

                                            "That wasn't... It's not you. I just mean that we're quite different people, and I'm sure we'll start to chaff against one another if we're around each other too long."

                                            >"We lived together for 14 years."

                                            "A long time ago. You can stay here as long as you need, Flutters. You're not Zephyr; You'll find somewhere to live. Until then, this place is your home."

                                            >She smiled softly.

                                            >"Is Gilda going to mind?"

                                            "I put up with Rainbow Dash for four months, Flutters. I know she's your friend too, but God Damn. In comparison, you're an... Well."

                                            "If she has a problem with you, I have a problem with her. I doubt it will come to that, though."

                                            >"I knew Gilda in Cloudsdale High."

                                            "I know. She's... Better than she was as a Teenager. I promise."

                                            >Gilda had indeed been in the same year as your sister, something Gilda delighted in teasing you about. Back then, you didn't like Gilda either, being a bratty bully.

                                            >The intervening years hadn't made her any less of a brat or, honestly, less of a bully, but she had become a lot nicer. The two of you had met at a terrible party a mutual friend of yours had tried to have on a boat in the Horsan River, and before it had started to sink into that polluted cesspool the two of you had started to weirdly reminisce and hit it off.

                                            >After the two of you swam back to shore, you decided to start dating.

                                            >That had been nearly 3 years ago.

                                            "Get some sleep if you can, Flutters. I have to be in work soon, but I promise you, after that, we'll go out."

                                            >"And check up on the shelter?"

                                            >The idea of willingly going to an animal shelter sends a shiver down your spine. You cannot help but itch at your right eye.

                                            "We'll see," you lie.

                                            >You kiss her on the forehead, then walk back into the room with Gilda, already lying atop the bed naked, though clearly not ready to sleep.

                                            >You rip off your shirt and throw it at the window, followed quickly by your sweatpants and boxers, and fall beside her. You try to close your eyes, even as Gilda turns over to face you, resting her head against her hand.

                                            >"Been a while since I've seen Fluttershy."

                                            "Suppose it might be. I offered if you wanted to come round mine for Christmas."

                                            >"And make all that racket in your mum's house? Pretty fucking risky. 'Sides, even badasses like me have to see their own family for the holidays. But yeah, Flutters."

                                            "I just want to sleep before work."

                                            >"Just saying, damn. Can't believe I called her a skinny bitch as a kid."

                                            "You should probably apologise to her before too long. And don't call my sister fat."

                                            >"Fat? Hardly. The only thing fat on her is her tits."

                                            "Really don't want to discuss my sister's tits with you, Gilda. Not before work."

                                            >"Oh, so when I start calling you big bro, it's a-ok to say my tits are great,", She said, cupping one of them for good measure. I forced myself to keep my eyes closed.

                                            "I have to get some sleep," I whispered again.

                                            >"-But if it's some other sister..."

                                            "You're not my real sister, Gilda. Despite what we might... Anyway, less of that. Dash walking in on our little "plays" was embarrassing enough at the time. I'll probably have to throw myself out of the window if my sister sees us doing that. Or you pretending to be my student, or me pretending to be a cop. Or you pretending to be a cop. Or both of us pretending to be cops, but I'm a..."

                                            >"Yeah, they can get pretty elaborate. Have you ever considered acting?"

                                            "We're not recording them, Gilda. We talked about this."

                                            >She chuckled to herself, gently slapping you on the arm, and you couldn't help but follow in her wake.

                                            >"Are we still on for Friday, at least?"

                                            >You sighed but nodded.

                                            "Can't turn back the rental. We'll have to find a way to get Flutters out of the apartment without hurting her or letting her know why."

                                            >"We could just tell her."

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Pretty sure Flutters doesn't even know what sex is, outside her fucking pets, well, fucking. No, ignorance is bliss."

                                            >Gilda chuckled and scoffed simultaneously, a skill she had long picked up in her professional capacity as a bitch.

                                            >"It would be just easier to tell her."

                                            "What? Oh, hey, Fluttershy, could you be out of the apartment on Friday night? My girlfriend and I rented a pirate costume and a full-flowing dress and corset, and we wanted to try to make the apartment a pirate ship. Could you find someplace else to be? How about the burning wreckage of your apartment?"

                                            >"It's always everything or nothing with you, isn't it, Anon?"

                                            "I need to sleep."

                                            >"I'll come up with something. Got an exhibit I'm supposed to make an appearance at tomorrow night, but I'll talk to her."

                                            >You smiled, snuggling into the bed further, Gilda gently wrapping her bare arm over your chest and snuggling into you in return. You reached for the small of her back and started to draw lazy circles with your finger on her skin.

                                            "Am I supposed to be there?"

                                            >"Nope. You hated Cubist Squares work last time, and I think he knew you did."

                                            "Ah. Yeah, better you than me. I'll take Flutters out for dinner or something after work."

                                            >"Mmm. Tell me more about your other little sister, big bro," Gilda moaned, putting on her best sultry yet innocent voice, something you had once ignorantly thought was an impossible combination. You reacted as you always did whenever she put that on, but you really did want to get some sleep. "Oooo, taking her out for dinner. A girl might think there are certain expectations that come with a man treating her so well."

                                            "You're so lucky that sword I'm renting is plastic, I swear."

                                            >"Ooo, now there's a possibility for next week. I, the lady of the lake, offer the sword of the king, but only if the dashing knight performs for her. Dripping wet..."

                                            "Add it to the list. I'm going to start snoring now, and eventually, I'll fall asleep."

                                            >You started to force yourself to snore, but sure enough, by the time you started to feel as if they might've become genuine, your alarm blared into life.

                                            "Fuck."


                                            -


                                            >Your suit jacket hung over your shoulder, the sleeves on your pressed shirt rolled up, and your right eye itched while you stepped through the front door of your apartment.

                                            >It had been a long day. The defendants, in this case, had attempted to drown you in paperwork during discovery, and this insurance company had sent you nearly every single bit of paper they had and still hadn't sent you a single email from their archives.

                                            >So, you had been on the phone with the judge all fucking day and then were forced to search through the paperwork "just in case".

                                            >By the time you managed to survive Manehatten traffic and nearly fell into your apartment, it was 8:20.

                                            >A note sat on the coathangers, but you already knew what it was going to say just by seeing it was written in Gilda's scruffy scrawl.

                                            "Sorry, I'm late, Flutters!" You shouted, hanging up your suit jacket on the hanger, tapping the letter for luck.

                                            >"Anon?" Fluttershy asked, walking into the foyer. It looked as if she hadn't changed today, and she still cradled that evil rabbit in her arms. Dark bags hung under her eyes, ringed with red. She had been crying.

                                            >In a moment, your own stress fell away in pity. As bad as your day was, at least your apartment didn't burn down. Your sister didn't need to see you angry.

                                            >You squinted your right eye for a bit, shifting the glass inside, then smiled at her.

                                            "It's too late to book anywhere expensive for the night, but I thought you and I might want to get dinner? It's been a while since we've eaten together."

                                            >"... I've not got anything nice to wear."

                                            >That... Was a good point. She was wearing the same clothes that she wore this morning, and even a gentle, distant sniff could pick up the ash clinging to them.

                                            "Gilda might have something in your size. She's a bit taller than you, but she'll have shorts or something you can wear. I'll dress down, too."

                                            >Flutters seemed, unsurprisingly, shy to poke around in your girlfriend's wardrobe and likely afraid of wearing her bully's clothes. Once bully, but that stuck with people.

                                            "Trust me, she won't mind."

                                            >She held Angel closer to her chest, forcing you to look at the thing. She asked the question silently.

                                            "He can survive one night here. Just put him in something; I don't want him chewing on my cables."

                                            >After a bit more coaxing, Flutters agreed, quickly whipping up a rabbit hunch out of an old TV you hadn't thrown out yet, a turned-over coffee table and resting them against a wall.

                                            >While she did that, you moved into your bedroom and took your shirt and trousers off, searching through your own wardrobe for something sufficiently casual to wear.

                                            >A tattered old band shirt from a band you think were all in jail now and a pair of faded jeans with a few more than fashionable holes would do. You carried them into your en-suite while Flutters gingerly entered your room and searched through Gilda's wardrobe.

                                            "Don't mind anything... Not clothes you see in there."

                                            >Despite your active sex lives, neither you nor Gilda were big on toys anyway. Costumes, makeup, elaborate pre-written scripts you and Gilda worked on over lunch or during the weekend, sure. You cared about your craft. But not toys. And whatever Gilda might have that you didn't know about, she certainly didn't leave them in her closet.

                                            >You washed up quickly, not going through the whole kerfuffle of showering or doing anything more than a basin wash. You did, however, quickly take out your glass eye and give it a clean, just in case. It was certainly itchy today.

                                            >You walked out, still shirtless, to see Fluttershy holding up two different t-shirts, neither of which really suited her. A tiny grey number that on Gilda barely reached her naval, and on Fluttershy probably wouldn't get past... Her chest.

                                            >And the other, a very angry torn t-shirt covered in paint stains with the words "Not for Parties" scrawled on it in spray paint.

                                            "Probably neither of them."

                                            >Fluttershy jumped, turned around to see you, and then immediately turned back around again, noticing you were shirtless.

                                            >"A little warning would be... Um."

                                            >You pulled your shirt over your arms.

                                            "Sorry. She's got a nice baby blue t-shirt her dad bought her last year that she has literally never worn somewhere in there."

                                            >"Thanks."

                                            >You let her have the room to change and instead texted Gilda.

                                            "In case you're home earlier than me, out to grub with FS. Anthin want?"

                                            >You patiently waited for your sister to wash and change, waiting so long that Gilda managed to reply.

                                            >"Slice o pizza. Dont want burger. pic of flutters."

                                            >You smiled and pocketed the phone just as your sister stepped out.

                                            >The wash seemed to have done her face some good, at least starting to cover the worst of the swelling. She smelled nice; admittedly, she had used your cologne rather than Gilda's deodorant, but honestly, the smell of Pine seemed to suit her.

                                            >Her clothes, less so. Gilda was a well-built woman with powerful thighs. Flutters were a bit more... Well, she had a bit more give. She wasn't fat, but her legs weren't as hard as Gilda's, and that showed as her shorts seemed to press into her soft, pale skin ever so slightly. Her top, sure enough, was a bit skinny for her. You could make out her bra, for one.

                                            >And your sister seemed to know it, unable to make eye contact with you and seeming to be trying her best to shrink into her clothes. Which, well, they were already too small.

                                            >You smiled at her and walked towards the coat rack once more, gently bringing over one of Gilda's many leather jackets.

                                            "It's not too hot out there. You'll be fine wearing this."

                                            >She held the jacket as if it was an alien artefact, and frankly, it was going to be interesting to see your Sister wear one. It certainly wasn't "her look".~

                                            >After she finished struggling emotionally with putting on the jacket, the two of you walked out of the apartment.


                                            -


                                            >It was a full hour later before the two of you found somewhere to eat. A little outdoor bar and grill in downtown Manehatten.

                                            >You took your seats, waiting for your orders to arrive.

                                            "Honestly, never been here before."

                                            >"They do good veggie burgers. I don't know about... What you eat."

                                            "Guess I'll find out," you said with a lazy smile. Flutters didn't mean anything by it; as far as you could tell, she never would begrudge anyone for eating meat.

                                            >You scratched your eye.

                                            "This weekend, you and I will go clothes shopping. Get things in your size. And I'll even let you buy a hutch for Angel."

                                            >"Thank you. I... I won't have much..."

                                            "It's fine. I covered Zephyr's expenses while he was just starting in Las Pegasus as a hairdresser; I can pay for a few outfits."

                                            >You scratched at your eye again, unable to hide your frustration at the pain.

                                            >"Are you alright?"

                                            "Glass eye's been itchy recently. Going to have to replace it soon, I think."

                                            >Fluttershy did as she always did whenever reminded of your eye and shrank a little.

                                            >"I'm sorry," She said by default. She didn't mean for asking.

                                            "It's fine. I got a scratch on it on a trip to Hong Kong a couple of months back, and I was going to have to get a new one anyway."

                                            >"I meant..."

                                            >She couldn't continue.

                                            >Not immediately, anyway.

                                            >"Can I ask you something about it?"

                                            >You squint your right eye, hoping that might alleviate the pain. To no effect.

                                            "Shoot."

                                            >"Does it hurt?"

                                            >You searched through the memories you had of Flutters, and you don't think she ever asked that. Obviously, when you lost the eye, she was apoplectic and apoplectic about it, but in the years since?

                                            "Outside the itching, and if I stretch the old scars around it too much... A bit. The glass is sort of uncomfortable, at least a bit. Nothing too much, though."

                                            >"Why do you wear it?"

                                            >The question surprised you again. But, if it took her mind off the fire, you were more than happy to answer her.

                                            "An empty socket unnerves people. And I don't like to see it either."

                                            >"H-have you ever thought about an eye patch?"

                                            "You might remember I wore one the last year of high school. But when I was at Yale, they were a bit more... Image-obsessed. So, to keep them calm, I settled for the glass."

                                            >"So it's to please other people?"

                                            "I mean... As I said, I don't like looking at the weird, gross flesh there either, or having weird half-closed eyes all the time. Glass eye means clients aren't constantly looking at it. And I..."

                                            > You shook your head.

                                            "Considered getting an eyepatch instead, but I'm not ready to open my own pirate firm yet."

                                            >Your sister managed to crack a soft, small smile, but her concern was obvious on her face.

                                            >You reached across the table, palm up.

                                            "Flutters. It's been ten years. I didn't hold you responsible then, and I don't hold you responsible now. Hell, this thing probably got me into Yale anyway."

                                            >Your sister winced at your words but gently placed her hand into your own.

                                            >"I know. That's not my worry."

                                            "Oh?"

                                            >"I," she swallows. "I don't think you should hurt yourself because of what the rest of the world thinks."

                                            >You chew on nothing.

                                            "Well... I mean, I also don't like... I also don't like looking at myself in the mirror. With the missing eye, I mean. It's pretty gross."

                                            >Her sky-blue eyes met your green.

                                            >"But it's you. You're a good-looking man. With or without a fake eye. I don't think Gilda would love you any less if you took it out. And you shouldn't either."

                                            >You gritted your teeth, but you couldn't turn away her logic. Well, not with any of your own.

                                            >You nodded and turned away from her, placing your thumb on your iris and gently popping the glass eye out of the socket, placing it in a little case in your pocket and turning to face her again.

                                            >You could feel the empty socket, the skin flap not entirely covering the hole. You were intensely aware of the scars crossing the missing eye and the air on the inside. But it didn't hurt.

                                            > Flutter's expression actually softened; she smiled more, even while a few other customers turned to stare.

                                            >But they faded into the background, and for a moment, you could see only her.

                                            "Sorry, it must look pretty gross," You said sheepishly.

                                            >"I remember why you lost it, Anon. It looks good to me."

                                            >You smiled.

                                            >Taking her into your apartment was not the first time you had "saved" your sister. Of course not; she was your little sister. That was what big brothers were for.

                                            >But the time you both remembered and would remember for the rest of your lives happened ten years ago.

                                            >You were 17, she was about 14. She had wanted to go camping on her own, mum and dad disagreed. So they sent you with her.

                                            >It was fun at first. Flutters was becoming a lanky, thin, awkward teenage girl by then, as opposed to a lanky, thin, awkward child, but she still liked her big brother even as she revolted against her parents.

                                            >Well, "revolting" for Fluttershy consisted of occasionally daring to ask why she had to do the things they told her to do or maybe reading a bit more before coming down for dinner.

                                            >Considering you were shooting air guns round Mac's or sneaking out to smoke in the creek, you much preferred that Fluttershy didn't take after you.

                                            >But she kept her childhood love of the wilds and the woods, and so you were brought along.

                                            >But that night, rather than the squirrels, deers and birds she oft seemed to tame with a look alone, a coyote had wandered into the woods. A bit far from its desert home, admittedly, but with a hungry glare and a bloodstained maw, it was clearly having its fill of whatever it could find in the woods.

                                            >And, for one terrible moment, that might've been your sister.

                                            >You had leapt in the way, standing in front of it and trying to scare it off, but the thing clearly wasn't afraid of you and lunged for your throat.

                                            >A scuffle ensued. You had your face scratched by its claws and got bitten in the arm.

                                            >You had taken a rock Fluttershy had handed you and bashed its brains in.

                                            >Turns out, that "scratch" on your face was your adrenaline talking, and instead, you had been mauled pretty bad.

                                            >By the time Flutters had helped you get to the hospital 6 hours later, half of your face was hanging off the bone, and your right eye was dripping out of your socket. The surgeons managed to save your face after a whole bunch of surgeries.

                                            >Your eye? That was gone.

                                            >Anon One-Eye returned to school a month afterwards- Flutters a little later.

                                            >You blink and return to the present, smiling at your sister before slowly taking your hand out from under hers.

                                            >Still, you can't help but shift in your seat ever so slightly as to hide your missing eye.

                                            >You ate in relative, yet comfortable, silence. Little surprise there, Flutters was never one for conversation.

                                            >But you studied her as she ate. Carefully chewing, gently biting at her veggie burger. She did her best to hide her hunger, but there were those fleeting, unguarded moments.

                                            >Watching her eat, you realised you couldn't just kick her out of the apartment. Not for a while, at least.

                                            >She needed you, for a bit. New clothes, getting back on her feet.

                                            >And watching her flinch at anyone's gaze, even while most of it was on you and the missing part of your face, she needed... Confidence.

                                            >Fluttershy really had been the perfect name for her, accursed ever to be so.

                                            "Flutters. I know I said this earlier. But you can stay with me for as long as you need. I know getting a place in Manehatten is expensive, especially on an animal control salary. So, I can..."

                                            > You trail off when her eyes meet yours.

                                            >"Thanks," She whispers.

                                            "There is, however, just one thing."

                                            >"Oh?"

                                            "Gilda and I are going to be... Busy on Friday night after work. I know you're not a nightlife kind of girl, but I... I would like it if you were out of the house for a few hours. Just between nine and midnight."

                                            >She furrowed her brow, her pink hair flowing ever so slightly in the gentle wind.

                                            >"Why?"

                                            >You couldn't exactly tell her you and Gilda had an elaborate sex play to keep.

                                            "Gilda and I are... Having a date night in the apartment."

                                            >"Oh," she said, embarrassed. For one dread moment, you worried she had actually worked out what you really meant. "I would've thought you'd do those things at a restaurant."

                                            >Only if you wanted to be thrown in jail for public indecency.

                                            "Gilda and I sometimes enjoy just being home. But I'm sure that you don't want to see Gilda and I making doe eyes at one another and talking about our week."

                                            >"I... I mean, that sounds less scary than being on my own in Manehatten on a Friday night."

                                            >Oof.

                                            "Sorry. But I really don't think you'll want to be around."

                                            >"What if I just stay in the guest room all night with Angel? I'll even put on headphones, in case you too... You know."

                                            >You raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

                                            >"Talk about marriage."

                                            >You bark out laughing. Gilda certainly was never going to get married, and you couldn't fucking blame her. Besides, as a lawyer, you've seen enough terrible marriages to realise Gilda probably had the right idea.

                                            "I swear that won't be the topic of discussion."

                                            >Well, it wasn't going to be. You were going to be playing the rapacious pirate Captain Anonymous Carcaspia, stealing a governor's daughter as a hostage to get a payday, till she and you realise your bubbling passion. It was going to be this whole thing, but Marriage certainly wasn't going to be discussed.

                                            >"But I can stay in my room. I won't make a sound or anything. I'll even bring Angel inside my room."

                                            >You considered it, at least for a second. But no, you really wanted to reduce any chance of Flutters walking in on Governess Gilda von-Harstein sucking some pirate Captain's dick at swordpoint.

                                            "We'd both be more comfortable if you were out of the apartment. Only till midnight."

                                            >Flutters seemed hurt by the request but nodded.

                                            "Rainbow Dash is living in Manehatten at the moment; you could always see her."

                                            >"I suppose..."

                                            >You wiped your mouth and hands clean of grease.

                                            "Sorry. But I can take you shopping on Saturday. Or, if you are okay with it, Gilda can take you tomorrow. I'll be at work, but I think Gilda has the morning off."

                                            >Fluttershy smiled.

                                            >"I might take her up on that."

                                            > You smirked.

                                            "She'll certainly get a kick out of that. And might be glad to get her own clothes back."

                                            >Fluttershy looked down at the ever so slightly too-tight shirt she wore and blushed, pulling the leather jacket tighter over her chest.

                                            >"But you're busy till the weekend?"

                                            "Till Friday night, then I've got a date night with Gilda. Though I could do this again with you."

                                            >"... I'd like that."

                                            >You smiled.

                                            "Perhaps less about my eye next time."

                                            >"Sorry," She whispered bashfully.

                                            >You smiled, glancing around the restaurant. Eyes fell upon yours, and while Flutters was busy finishing up her burger and fries, you popped your glass one back into the empty socket, squinting to roll it back into place.

                                            "Right, I'll pay up, then we'll head back."


                                            -


                                            >Friday came, at long last. It was a hell of a work, but you were ready to relax. Not that you really could; an appointment with your girlfriend was one you couldn't abandon.

                                            >You walked into your place, closing the door behind you, two costumes in black bags in hand.

                                            >Through the hallway, you could see Gilda stand up from the couch.

                                            >"Got them?"

                                            "Yep. The shop was pretty clear they were to be hand-washed, so we'll each wash our own after we're done."

                                            >"God damn. Alright, don't mess mine too bad. No ripping it either."

                                            "I'll be as gentle as I can while still in character. You remember the script?"

                                            >"What am I, a virgin? Yeah, I remember the script."

                                            "Great. Oh, is Flutters out?"

                                            >"Fuck. I'll check."

                                            >Gilda moved towards the guest bedroom and opened the door.

                                            >You, meanwhile, are the Fluttershy of just a minute ago.

                                            >Having just put away Angel in his new hutch, you moved over to the window.

                                            >The whole city of Manehatten seemed to play out below you, splayed across the land like a bird's nest.

                                            >You liked your old place to an extent. Sure, it was bare brick, the heating only worked half the time, the landlord was weird and definitely growing weed in the basement, and the one window you had was rimmed with mould, but it was yours.

                                            >Your brother, meanwhile, owned this.

                                            >Or rented this. Even a lawyer like him couldn't afford a place in Manehatten yet. Few more years.

                                            >But it didn't quite feel like home.

                                            >Angel helped, but your brother was...

                                            >Well, you missed him when he wasn't here, and he was rarely here.

                                            >Gilda still scared you, even if you knew she shouldn't. She was nothing but nice during your shopping trip yesterday. Sure, a few jokes about the clothes you bought, about who buys "only" yellow sweaters as if you hadn't bought a few sky blue T-shirts too.

                                            >But she was tough. Muscly. Scary. Even if she hadn't once been your bully.

                                            >But those memories conflicted with the person who shared an apartment with your brother.

                                            >It was clear she loved him. That they loved each other. They'd likely never say it, but your brother didn't stay with people for years at a time. In college, every break, he'd bring home a new girl to meet the parents.

                                            >You disliked each of them.

                                            >But Gilda... She scared you, but you didn't dislike her.

                                            >For all her foul language, grit and sarcasm, and physicality, she was clearly a nicer woman than she had been as a teenager.

                                            >And she seemed to love her job, as impossible as it was to support her lifestyle.

                                            >It was a commonality you both shared. Following passions that made life difficult but worth it.

                                            >Meanwhile, Anon had gone straight for the highest paying job he could find that wasn't finance.

                                            >Apparently, both Gilda and Anon hated brokers despite both of them almost exclusively having them as customers.

                                            >Anon was practical. Always had been. Cynical, Zephyr said. He was the oddball of the family. Your parents were shy, awkward people. Zephyr was an underachiever, like Dad. You were a passionate person, like Mum. Anon? Nothing like either. Nothing like Zephyr, though both had similar enough hair. And nothing like you. He liked people. People liked him.

                                            >He commanded a room. You quietly asked permission.

                                            >You were his sister, and even you were a bit intimated by Anon sometimes. The missing eye didn't help.

                                            >The glass eye especially. Lifeless, reflective, never quite looking where he looked.

                                            >Gilda told you she didn't mind it and actually didn't know he had one when they met.

                                            >The last few nights, it was almost all you could think about. His eyes. One sharp, focused, bright and human. The other blunt, dulled and artificial.

                                            >You last saw Anon at Christmas for a few days.


                                            >He and Zephyr, despite being near opposites in personality, got on quite well. Zephyr always sort of chased Anon's approval in a way Zephyr never cared to with anyone else.

                                            >And you?

                                            >You could just remember a phone call you overheard Anon take in the bathroom. You poked your head in to listen

                                            >"How bad?"

                                            >You couldn't hear the other end.

                                            >"Oh, well, we'll both be back soon. Flutters said hi. No, I didn't tell Mum and Dad. Yes. Yes. No. No, Zephyr's doing pretty well. Yeah, I'm still giving him money, but he says he's only going to need one more payment, and then he's set. Yeah, I believe him. Gil, I've never seen him this focused on anything in his life. Well, other than Rainbow Dash. No, I didn't tell him that; I'm not going to break his heart."

                                            >You could see him standing in the mirror, his eye out, shirt off. A few scars from the incident clung to his right arm, but your brother was undeniably well-built. Zephyr was lanky and sharp and just as tall as your older brother, but Anon was... Power. Strength. That's the word.

                                            >His back tensed a little while he looked at himself in the mirror, holding his left finger beneath his eye.

                                            >"So, what's next on our list? I've been working on that script for a Star Wars thing, but I know you hate those movies."

                                            >That did confuse you. Anon wasn't a writer.

                                            >"Ohh, right. Goth? Well, I'm not exactly going to say no, of course. Nah, you're right. Something basic when we're back. Yeah, cheaper, too. I do love those black shirts and that lipstick. But what should I be?"

                                            >Anon listened and laughed at something you couldn't hear.

                                            >"Brother? Again? No, I'm not saying you have a type. I'm saying I've been playing your brother a hell of a lot."

                                            >Playing her brother?

                                            >"I didn't say I didn't like it either. It's just weird to talk about while I'm in my parents'... Oh, don't give me that, Gilda. If you actually had a brother, you'd agree it's weird. Yes. Look, I said weird, not bad... No, do not put on the pink wig. That was a one-time thing for my birthday. I know I li... I know, but it's undeniably weird."

                                            >Your brother itched at his pants, and you forced yourself to look back at his face.

                                            >"Alright, at some point we'll do that again. Though your impression of her isn't that good. Alright. Okay. Right, I think someone's waiting to use this, so I've gotta go. Yeah yeah, "like" you too. Fucking hell. See you soon."

                                            >Anon hung up, placing the phone down on the sink. He looked firmly in the mirror, and you ducked out of the doorway, just in case he saw you.


                                            >You wondered, still, what that conversation was about.

                                            >The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts, and you walked over towards your bedroom door.

                                            >"Got them?" You heard Gilda ask.

                                            >"Yep," you heard Anon say as he stepped into the apartment. "Shop was pretty clear they were to be hand-washed, so we'll each wash our own after we're done."

                                            >"God damn. Alright, don't mess mine too bad. No ripping it either."

                                            >"I'll be as gentle as I can while still in character. You remember the script?"

                                            >"What am I, a virgin? Yeah, I remember the script."

                                            >"Great. Oh, is Flutters out?"

                                            >"Fuck. I'll check."

                                            >Your eyes widened in terror as you remembered you were supposed to be out of the apartment.

                                            "Fiddlesticks," you whispered to yourself.

                                            >Hearing the door handle turn, you threw yourself beneath the bed, pulling the duvet down to hide you.

                                            >Behind you, you could feel Angel's withering stare fall upon you, but you kept your eyes forward towards the opening door.

                                            >Beneath the duvet, you could see two socks.

                                            >"Looks like she's out. Didn't hear her leave," Gilda said.

                                            >"Did she say where she was going?" Anon asked.

                                            >"Don't think so."

                                            >"Fuck. Alright, I'll call her later. You get changed in our room. I'll change in hers."

                                            >Your eyes widened as a different pair of feet entered the room. You followed them as they moved around the bed to the foot of it.

                                            >You heard a belt being unbuckled and a pair of suit pants fall to the floor.

                                            >Followed quickly by a shirt and jacket. Clearly, Anon didn't care about them getting creased.

                                            >You risked moving slightly to see what he was putting on, and what you saw was certainly surprising.

                                            >Anon, in only his underwear, held up what looked like a flowing white silk shirt. He quickly pulled that on, then threw on a deep blue coat with gold buttons. It was clearly a costume of some kind.

                                            >He pulled on a pair of tight velvet pants that seemed to show even more than the underwear he was wearing beneath.

                                            >You couldn't take your eyes off him as he put on more clothes.

                                            >A pair of tall boots followed. Anon turned around to a dresser, and you saw him reach up to his face.

                                            >And place his glass eye on top.

                                            >He reached to the top of his head, moving aside his long hair, and pulled the eyepatch over it.

                                            >A pirate. Anon was dressed as a pirate?

                                            >"Showtime," Anon said to himself in the mirror.

                                            >You moved backwards as he walked over to the bed and pulled a sword up from it, sheathing it in his long belt.

                                            >You were so confused. This was date night for these two?

                                            >Once he walked out of the room, you could hear Anon and Gilda talking. For a while, you kept hidden under the bed. But curiosity drove you.

                                            >You crawled out from under the bed, crept over towards the door, and gently pushed it open.

                                            >The sight of Gilda, wearing a long flowing dress, with eyeliner dripping from her eyes, looking dishevelled, her bosom heaving, was quite the sight. She wore a tight-looking corset, her breasts almost spilling out of the top of it.

                                            >And your brother walked around her menacingly.

                                            >"If your father doesn't pay, Governess, well, I suppose you'll be aboard my ship for quite some time," Anon growled. His voice was even deeper than usual. You could feel it in your bones.

                                            >"I'm not afraid of you, pirate," Gilda said defiantly, looking up into your brother's one eye.

                                            >To your shock, Anon slapped her right in the face with the back of his hand.

                                            >Both you and Gilda gasped. Her gasp seemed to be tinged with... something. Yours was a pure surprise.

                                            >Anon leaned down in front of her, placing the point of his sword at her throat.

                                            >"You've quite the mouth on you, Governess."

                                            >Your eyes widened as, with his other hand, he pulled down his pants.

                                            >Even from behind, you could make out the outline of his bulge. Gilda's eyes widened and she couldn't help but, ever so slightly, lick her lips. Which you guessed was supposed to be out of character.

                                            >You could only watch while your brother forced himself on his girlfriend, holding the back of her head while she...

                                            >... You really shouldn't be watching. You burned even thinking of the words to describe what they were doing.

                                            >Yet you couldn't take your eyes off them.

                                            >Your older brother had been a rock in your life for so long. He was not always there, but there when you needed him, for whatever you needed for him. It was almost hard to imagine him as a sexual being sometimes.

                                            >Especially something as violent- Something as Commanding as this.

                                            >But the more you watched him, dropping the sword and holding her by the throat while she sucked his P... Penis, the more natural, innate, right it seemed.

                                            >Of course he was like this. Bubbling beneath the surface of your brother lay a beast.

                                            >Without any warning, Anon stepped back, Gilda almost following him with her mouth.

                                            >Not even pulling up his pants, Anon brought his leg up and down between Gilda's legs.

                                            >Smashing the cheap chair she was sitting on, or at least buckling its legs, he caught Gilda and hoisted her up, throwing her over his shoulder. Gilda moaned, and Anon threw her onto a nearby countertop.

                                            >With deceptive caution and grace, Anon ripped off her dress.

                                            >It appeared Gilda shaved. And her p... She was wet. She still pretended as if her arms were bound behind her back, but they clearly weren't with how much she fiddled and writhed.

                                            >You could see Gilda's face, but sadly, only the back of your brother's head as he bent down ever so slightly and spread her legs.

                                            >You couldn't quite see what Anon was doing between her legs, only that Gilda seemed to enjoy it. A lot.

                                            >It was bizarrely hypnotising to watch. Enthralling. The way her toes curled, her muffled, held-back moans and little screams. And Anon. Even through the blue pirate coat he wore, you could see his back muscles working, shifting with every errant movement.

                                            >When Gilda reached a hand down towards her... "Area", you follow her motion.

                                            >If yours is warm, you cannot imagine how hers is. When you notice her rubbing it, without even thinking, you follow after her.

                                            >For a flash, a moment, you're in her shoes. Anon, fiercely licking and gently nibbling at your... At your "Area". At first, he follows your silent commands given by a twitch of your muscles or a strangled pleading but soon moves of his own accord, knowing even better than you what you like- What you need.

                                            >In your mind's eye, you look down at his face. His long hair swept back, his mouth ever so slightly moist with your own wetness. A hunger in his eyes. He can't help himself and stands to his full height once more.

                                            >You open your eyes and see he was indeed doing that.

                                            >Gilda twists her head while Anon starts to move her legs off the countertop, and her Golden eyes settle onto yours.

                                            >They widen in shock.

                                            >For a moment, you both take in each other in while time seems to slow to a crawl.

                                            >She, her white and purple hair previously done up but now an absolute mess. She's breathing with her whole chest and seems to be shaking. It's the most vulnerable you've ever seen her.

                                            >You can't imagine what you look like to her. A deer caught in the headlights, no doubt.

                                            >Gilda's shock only seems to last for a few seconds, and you can see a smug smile grow before your brother flips her so she's on her front, leaning on the countertop, facing away from you.

                                            >Anon leans down, his mouth against her ear as he looms over her.

                                            >"Oh, you're mine from now on, Governess. Fit only as a scabbard for my cock. You'll never leave this cabin except when I parade you in front of some high society dinner. Your peers will see what I've done to you. Maybe after I'm done with you, I'll drag that snooty Maquis de Rainbow onto my ship, too."

                                            >It was ridiculous, clunky dialogue. But even you were briefly transported to the scene, you being bent over a table, a map of the Caribbean beneath your heaving bosom, and Anon leaning over you. Dread and excitement, in equal measure, keep you from trying to escape.

                                            >Gilda moaned louder than before. Almost performatively.

                                            >You swallowed.

                                            >She knew you were watching- hearing. This was for your benefit.

                                            >You closed the door. It was too much to actually see your brother p-p-pound his girlfriend.

                                            >But leaning against the door, you could certainly hear it. For another hour, the two of them grunted, roared, growled and screamed. They were a lot like the animals at the pound.

                                            >Thinking of nothing more than fulfilling some raw, chemical, animal need.

                                            >One last grunt and moan from the two of them, both sounding worn out and utterly exhausted, seemed to signal the end of things.

                                            >Silence temporarily returned to the apartment. You still sat there, your back against the door.

                                            >Anon spoke first.

                                            >"The script needed work, I know."

                                            >"Bringing up Dash was a low blow."

                                            >"She'd definitely have broken character during this."

                                            >"Too right. Hey, Anon?"

                                            >"Yeah?"

                                            >Your face paled, dreading what Gilda was going to say next. You rushed back beneath the bed, pulling the duvet down once again to hide you.

                                            >But you could still just about hear the two exhausted lovers.

                                            >"... Never mind," Gilda said.

                                            >"Alright. We should probably wash up. Do you want the en-suite?"

                                            >"Yep. Oh, don't forget to grab your work clothes from Fluttershy's room; you don't want her coming back and wondering what they are doing in there."

                                            >"Right."

                                            >You could hear them sweatily kiss one another, then start to limp off.

                                            >You tried harder to hide, scuttling back under the bed, freezing when Anon opened the door.

                                            >You could smell him the moment he entered the room.

                                            >Musky. Strong. You could almost taste his and Gilda's sweat and... Other fluids, in the air.

                                            >Anon leaned down, and for one terrible moment, you thought he might see you with his eye.

                                            >But instead, he just kicked up his clothes from off the floor and walked off.

                                            >The moment he left the room, you crawled out from under the bed.

                                            >Anon thought you had left.

                                            >You needed to pretend to be coming back.

                                            >You crawled over to the door, listening through it.

                                            >Soon enough, you could hear both showers turn on.

                                            >You stood up and crept towards the front door of the apartment, fumbling the door handle and with the spare key Anon had given you yesterday.

                                            >Quietly, you opened the door, closed it, and locked it.

                                            >You leaned against the door, panting.

                                            "Oh-" You whispered.


                                            >You are Anon.

                                            >And you and Gilda are sitting on the, quickly cleaned, couch, watching some TV show about two detectives.

                                            "So, what is it next week?"

                                            >"You're my big brother. I've been a naughty girl, and I'm trying to get you to drive me to a concert."

                                            "Eh. Really? Never really liked the transactional ones."

                                            >"Anon, you just did what was basically a rape scene, and we're talking about you banging your younger sister. And the problem you have is that I'm using sex as a bargaining chip?"

                                            >You chuckle, realising that it is a bit silly of a hang-up in context.

                                            >"But maybe you're right. Perhaps you'd prefer something more... Romantic. Intimate?"

                                            >You furrow your brow.

                                            "Between a brother and sister?"

                                            >"Oh, I know! She saw her having sex with his girlfriend, and she was jealous. She wants to lose her virginity, and the only person she can trust is her big, strong, protective brother. But she can't quite get the words out."

                                            "Elaborate. We rarely do character work like that."

                                            >"Well, obviously, I'd goth it up. Black lipstick, heavy eyeliner."

                                            "That's more like us."

                                            >"So she gingerly, awkwardly, tries to seduce her brother."

                                            "Super uncomfortable while Fluttershy is living with us, but you managed to get her out of the apartment today; it should be even easier next week."

                                            >Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Gilda grin wryly.

                                            >"Oh, no doubt."

                                            >You both returned to watching the tv, just as the detective was monologuing about the pointlessness and uselessness of life and existence, when the door started to open.

                                            >You glanced over the couch, spotting your sister entering the hallway.

                                            "Flutters! Good evening?"

                                            >Fluttershy stops dead in her tracks and slowly looks at you.

                                            >"Mmm."

                                            >Wasn't much of an answer.

                                            "Date night's over. We're watching TV if you want to join us."

                                            >Gilda turned too, smiling wolfishly at your sister.

                                            >"Yeah, Fluttershy? Want to join us?"

                                            >Blood rushed into your sister's cheeks as she nervously tapped her foot on the floor.

                                            >"Ummm."

                                            >She turned quickly into her room, slamming the door behind her.

                                            >You furrowed your brow.

                                            "Wonder what that was about."

                                            >You both turned back to the TV.

                                            >"Don't worry about it. I'll ask her later."

                                            "I mean, I probably should. I'm her brother and all."

                                            >Gilda smiled conspiratorily again.

                                            >"No. No, don't worry your pretty head about it."

                                            >She threw her arm over your shoulders, dragging you towards her.

                                            >"I'll sort this all out," She purred.