#their society is matriarchal with the men being like SUPER low on the social hierarchy

[sapphism-and-cyanide]

Also like I wanna post an excerpt from Where Parallels Cross, which was like... Supposed to be a short story and then it became 28 pages long lol so oof. But I kind of like this scene, and it's my blog, so I'm posting it and no one can tell me no. It's the section where Layla more or less "becomes" Inky, with Ethan trying and failing to be the glue in their family.

It’s Monsoon season. Years have gone by. Layla has assumed the position of ascending prinseka, and a foreign outlander is kept in her quarters. She arrived one night without a trace of a ship or a wreckage, and the two have been quiet about the logistics. Everyone suspects Layla and the foreigner know what truly transpired, but none dare to press.

Besides, that Nyx girl speaks in a way that makes many shiver, and only the young scholars of Phorgraza seem to wish to speak to her longer than a few brief moments. Her arrival did bring the gift of more advanced technology, however, and the girl’s contributions have been without compare.

Ethan’s only complaint is that no one can see the signs like he can.

A girl with some insane blessing of knowledge no one else seems to hold, and the attachment his sister has to her. He might have found it cute if he didn’t fear the worst.

This Nyx girl can make anything out of nothing. She can give Layla exactly what she’s been wishing for - a last and final escape route.

And it’s during one particularly bad storm that Ethan begins that trek to the Gronaanchy, just as he had countless times before. The climb is less tiring now, and as he gets ready to stand on the platform, he freezes.

Every Darcell since the dawn of time has been blessed by some celestial gift that allows them elemental prowess beyond what is deemed the norm. Even Ethan, flawed and human, discovered his attunement to the emotional flow of humans and the steady pulse of nature. Where the two abilities meet is where his fingerprint lies. Branches and trunks turn for him, and the roots beneath his feet spring at his command.

Layla’s twin discovered power in frost and night, condensing the two into a choking, misty poison that blots out both light and lives alike. Terrifying, to be sure. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when those abilities were finally harnessed.

But Layla still hadn’t found her power. Not until now, it seemed.

The platform was blinding. Pure, searing light encompassed Ethan’s little sister in a solid orb, all while flickering embers sparked and danced in the twisting, serrated breeze. A tropical storm, Ethan would know the signs from anywhere.

“Inky!” Ethan yelled, his voice barely audible amongst the winds. “We need to go home! It’s not safe up here!”

The orb wavered, and finally broke away to reveal Layla, shivering and gasping. When she turned to face him, her normally cool, grey eyes snarled and flashed with something a little less mortal.

Lightning. Red lightning, coiling and grasping from her eyes. Flames erupted from her left foot, and more of the scorching light sprang from her right.

And just as Ethan has about to yell to her to come with him, lightning struck.

The boom caused panic down below, and all at once, Ethan’s awareness was ripped from his body. The light, the sound… It was bellowing. Roaring. Rolling with turmoil and fueled by anger.

When he was able to return to his own mind, he went to reach out to Layla, and then choked when she screamed.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

And he didn’t. When he finally, finally could see her, he faltered.

The lightning didn’t just strike. The lightning struck Inky.

Despite the sudden onslaught of vicious, ripping rain, flames continued to roar from Inky’s hair and limbs. And the lightning from the strike… It flowed through her and coursed along her skin. Ethan could see it - every red coil shook and growled, the speed picking up as Inky proceeded to step away. The already charred platform groaned, but Inky paid it no mind.

Afterall, she wasn’t the one who didn’t have wings.

“Ethan, go home! You can’t help me! Just fucking go home!”

“I-Inky, I-”

“Go home!” Inky roared, the Vlucht queen in her rising up higher than he’s ever seen before.

And, for once, he let her be. He left, his own wounds torn and bleeding while Inky screeched. Another boom followed after he was far enough away, and as the elders and even Elizea and Valora rushed to the tree, Inky released the lightning within her.

Ethan heard it, of course, but soaking wet and empty in his own equally empty house, the strength could not phase him. Not when he was once again ripped from his body by the wounds he exhausted himself trying to fix.

The Gronaanchy, once a sacred place, died that day. Inky’s flames engulfed everything, even as the storm above raged on. Nothing could extinguish her flames. Burning plasma and angry embers engulfed the one place the two of them could drop at least some of their burdens, and they never returned to it.

Even in the future, with her wife’s tinkering, Inky and Ethan would never speak about what transpired on that day. For them, it was a blank page in their history, even as the murals and tapestries recorded the legend of the lost prinseka’s destruction for future generations.

For them, there were some things they could never understand about each other, and nothing blood could do could remedy that.