[F4F] Awake To Your Voice

It's over.

It's all come to this.

She knew it was inevitable. It'd always come to this. Alone, darting through the snow-coated sidewalk at dead of night without another soul in sight. The labored, heavy breaths she cast from her stinging lips blew plumes of vapor before her. Eyeing them through the flurry of snow, she somehow felt more comforted by it than anything her family had done for her.

Her chest ached, each adrenaline-fueled stride making a spike of pain lance through her. It was getting harder to breathe. Her fingers were numbing. Her reddening face blistered with pain. She'd been reckless, dashing out in little more than what she'd worn when the argument broke out; her unkempt, food-stained blue pajamas.

It'd happened so fast. It always did. One moment, she was in the kitchen heating up some ramen. Another, and her mother approached. She knew something was going to happen then. Another, and she was right. It started all over again. Her mother mentioned *her*, her sister—the shy, quiet girl made entrepreneur made CEO of a multi-billion dollar start-up within a few years.

It always started with her sister. The lecturing, the verbal bludgeoning of her wretched sister's accomplishments. How much of a failure she was in comparison. How much of a leech she'd been for dwelling in her parent's basement for all these years. She was a failure.

And they were right. She'd always accepted that fact. It was, after all, sufforcating to exist in such a massive shadow. But this time, in finally professing her failure, in screaming it to her mother and father alike, it felt final. Not just a truth, but an acceptance. A legacy.

This was her legacy.

Alone. Running through the blizzard. She couldn't see anything anymore. She didn't know where she was, or for how long she'd been running. She had no phone. No way out. As if there'd ever been one.

Except for this.

She was slowing. Her eyes were getting blurry, her heart's untrained muscles compressing far harder than they should've for a shut-in like her. She was feeling cold again. So cold. Her steps faltered, legs crumpling into the snow as she collapsed onto her knees. Her legs were screaming, but her feet had gone completely numb, just like her hands.

To think it'd come so far.

It was inevitable. She was stupid to think anything else. To have so much as even cared. The thoughts made her snow-flecked lips twitch as a quiet chuckle slipped from her lips. Through the cascading storm, woven like threads, she could've sworn she saw the outline of *her*. Her eyes darted over, bringing that hazy outline into sharp relief. She saw her. Her sister, alone. Tall. Upright, with her long, gorgeous hair and beautiful skin.

She never stood a chance. Her body was trembling, shaking uncontrollably as even her knees gave out. Her world was spinning, collapsing into into a cocoon of perfect darkness. She fell, keeling to the side as the snow seemed to weave another mirage beside her sister. Herself. Shorter, her clothes a little less composed, her back a little less straight, but proud. Proud, with her sister's hand intertwined with hers.

Just what happened? How did it get like this? How, how—her breath hitched, bloodshot eyes prickling with moisture. Why?

Who?

Her thoughts drifting like snow upon the pavement she laid upon, she didn't recognize the mirage anymore. But it hurt to see. Her watery eyes bled, weeping of a despair she barely grasped.

Her life ends here.

Cold. Broken. Alone.

"...'Sis?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello everyone! Apologies for any errors the above may have. Also, I'm very interested in taking the elder sister, but I'll happily write the younger too if you've got a compelling idea : ) Otherwise, I've already got an abstract for the elder sister and the narrative's introduction written out, but I'm obviously willing to tailor/edit both to our wishes!

Before we begin in earnest, a heads-up: I'm looking to craft an intricate, layered narrative here. We'll be touching on delicate subjects, not least of which is the essence of this prompt: incest (sisters). This will be a long-term, slow-burn story unfurling over many months, likely even years. I fully intend to develop this story as any actual book would be, with a dedicated cast of characters, stakes, trials and tribulations, trauma, drama and all.

Most importantly, the focal point of this narrative, the incest, is not going to be shrugged off or sidelined for ease. I'd like it to be one of the most critical parts of the narrative. When their feelings blossom, while they'll doubtless have their allies and friends who'll look by their forbidden love, it'll nevertheless be against the whole world—their family included.

Save by those scant few they call friends, their love will never be accepted. They'll never be forgiven.

While NSFW elements will be included, it is by no means the priority here. It’ll be 70/30 at best, favoring narrative. I’ll offer kinks on request but I genuinely do not care much about it, it’s immaterial for the purposes of the story.

With that said, let's begin with some about me!

I’m a 23 Y/O writer who’s been at this for quite some time! I live in EST timezone and am, broadly speaking, a highly engaged, active partner. I’m a tit for tat kinda gal, though; I give out what you put in. If you’re the kind that’s all biz and no talk, we’ll not click at all, sorry! I’m very much the kind to share songs, music, boards, etc. whenever I’m into an idea. You don’t have to reciprocate, but please at least be okay with it!

I am extremely forgetful. Like really. I’ve got a neurological disease that makes me very finicky. I tend to forget things while I’m doing them. So, if I don’t get back to you for a while, please don’t be afraid to ping me just to make sure! I’ll otherwise try my best to account for everything!

Also important: I’m well past my hayday of writing a morbillion paragraphs of stuff on demand. Rest assured, I’ll never one-line line you—but my priority’s writing what’s needed, not fluff for fluff’s sake. This also means I won’t expect you to be dropping 3-4 paragraphs every single post regardless of context either.

I can post every few days at least, or several times every single day depending on my engagement / muse. Does not account for occasionally necessary breaks.

Beyond this, my wants for you: please be capable of writing multiple paragraphs. You don’t always have to, as I said above, but I’m looking for a highly literate partner. Please be engaged. Please be communicative and be willing to spitball with me. I’m NOT looking to domineer the story here and write it all for you. This is a collaborative effort through and through. Please be open to planning and establishing a basic template. We don't need to chart the whole story. I don't want to! But I'd like to do some plotting, establishing a basic backstory between the sisters, etc.

Please understand that I’m a ball of ideas and visions. I’ll talk, sometimes a lot, about possibilities. They’re precisely that—just possibilities. Please don’t take my musing, ideas, or me “peering into the future” as attempting to wrest control of your character or railroading the story. I’m not. I’m just a chronic yapper and have a looooot of ideas! If you're easily overwhelmed and prefer to work with little, we probably won't click. However, I’ll be sure to communicate if I genuinely disagree with something you’re doing and make it abundantly clear that this is not me just thinking aloud.

This is a third-person story only.

Above all, understand that this is a story, and is by no means intended as a quick goon, or to devolve into excess, shallow smut. If this is your aim, please do not engage. There will also be a cast of side-characters and nuanced storytelling.

We’re writing an intricate, grounded narrative regarding a very taboo subject for two sisters who’ve got their share of traumas, struggles and flaws. Please act accordingly.

Discord Only. DMs or Messages accepted!

I’ve doubtless forgotten something, but I hope this’ll do. Thank you!