Aurora Irae
I figured I've accidentally written them into enough other oneshots I should give Marelliana their own story. I originally planned on using OCs for this but well Arsonist!Marella was too fun to turn down.
Word count: 3.5k
TW: swearing, blood, a knife, arson, implied murder due to aforementioned arson, mention of Alden's homophobia, the whole shebang. Please tell me if I should tag anything else.
Neopronoun notes: She/they/fi Marella, ae/aer Biana, xe/xem Dex, it/its Keefe, ze/hir Maruca, fae/faer Linh, he/hine Fitz
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @ichor-on-my-hands @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @snowflakewolves @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @books-over-boys @florida-llama-46 @when-wax-wings-melt @k00laidcrush @bowlcut-boyfriends @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizznee @jamesdeangf
On Ao3 or below the cut!
Marella stumbles back into fire hideout, clutching fire shoulder. Fi replays the night’s events over and over in fire mind, trying to figure out how it could’ve gone better.
It started pretty normally, just having to deal with your average corrupt politician who got away with tax evasion. There might be some other charges, but it’s fairly routine by now.
It shouldn’t be, but it is.
But then he started packing his car sooner than expected, which is a sure sign that he’s gonna be going somewhere sometime soon. And chances are, it’ll be out of the country.
It’s not that hard to get to Mexico from San Diego, you know? Certainly easier than from, like, New York.
And then there’s the whole problem of getting innocent--at least to a certain extent--people out of the way.
But, thankfully, Emery’s wife is having an affair. Marella doesn’t have a clue who, and it really doesn’t concern fire. Fi also doesn’t have definitive proof, but it’s obvious when you’ve been borderline-stalking their house for over a week by now and she hasn’t come home before 10 p.m. once.
Yeah, some people work, but that’s kind of excessive. And this isn’t fi’s first rodeo. You learn to spot the signs.
Marella sits down on a stool, peeling fire jacket off, and grimacing the entire time.
Small shards of glass are sticking out of fire shoulder, blood dripping from the wounds.
Marella swears. Fi grabs a pair of tweezers and braces fireself before starting to pull them out one by one.
There was so much traffic this evening and for no good reason. That threw off all the calculations, and fi already had only a vague grasp of stoichi--whatever the word is. Some fancy chemistry thing.
Honestly, it was a good day if fi didn’t fall asleep in Mrs. Galvin’s class.
Marella didn’t think fi would have to time how long, in seconds, it would take for 1 molar HCl to eat through three sheets of aluminum foil so it can react with the baking soda and heat up the carbon disulfide until it starts to burn.
But here we are.
Because it took way too freaking long to get there, it was dangerously close to when Emery’s wife usually got home, and in fire hurry, fi couldn’t get out of the blast radius in time.
Exploding windows are my favorite kind, fi thinks bitterly as fi pulls the last shard out of fire arm.
As Marella is trying to get the crusty dried blood that isn’t covering a hole off, fi starts muttering about how Dex caused all of this.
Xe’s the best source for chemicals anywhere around here, and is oblivious enough to buy fire crappy excuses of why fi needs more HCl.
That or xe knows and just lets fire believe that fi is believable. Either way, this current system is working, and fi doubts that xe is going to do anything to change that. Fi’s a well-paying customer, after all.
Marella us so caught up in fire internal monologue, fi lets fire guard down. And that’s never a good idea.
The floorboards above fire head creak with a footstep, and a stream of muttered curses start flowing from fire lips.
Fi throws on fire disguise in record time, carefully shrugging fire well-worn, fireproof jacket on before looping fire smoke-filtering mask Dex didn’t know xe made for fi.
It’ll have to do fi thinks, looking at the recent lacerations all over fire jacket, as fi creeps up the stairs.
Fi pulls a familiar knife out of fire pocket, tightly gripping its handle that has molded to the shape of fire hand after all this time.
Marella watches, crouching in the shadows. With each passing the second, the voice in the back of fire head wondering if fi is just being paranoid gets louder.
Fi’s about to give up when, softly, another floorboard creaks.
Marella wants to swear. Someone is definitely here…What are you doing?
Fi sneaks out of fire hiding spot, pressing fireself into a dark corner, hoping fi isn’t too obvious. It can be difficult to hide in an old, abandoned, concrete warehouse.
Ironically, that’s exactly why fi liked it in the first place. That, and the nice basement.
Marella gets fire first look at the figure, as they step into the light.
The figure seems to have a sixth sense to know fi is there, and as they make eye contact, their fight-or-flight responses both kick in.
The figure tries to turn and run, and there’s some primitive instinct that tells Marella to chase after them, to protect fire land.
It’s only a few steps before fi catches up, pressing them against the wall to prevent further attempts to run away.
As an added precaution, fi presses fire knife against their throat.
The figure’s hoodie falls back, revealing a terrified expression on a familiar face.
It takes much too long for Marella’s mind to put the pieces together. And those pieces all add up to fire girlfriend, Biana.
Fuck. Ae can’t figure out that I am who I am. That isn’t a conversation that’ll end well. That’s the kind of conversation that’ll put aer in more danger than ae already gets aerself into on a regular basis.
“So…um…hi?” ae whispers.
With the amount of adrenaline running through Marella’s body, it’s nothing short of a miracle that fi remembers to turn on fire voice scrambler. Because Biana recognizing fire voice would be real freaking bad.
“...hi?”
“How are you doing today?” Biana asks shakily.
“...It’s been kind of a shitty day, not gonna lie. How’s your day been?”
Biana shrugs slightly. “So-so.”
An awkward silence stretches between the two of them until Biana smiles slightly and says, “I’m Biana. Nice to meet you. I’d reach for a handshake…but…you know…”
“You can call me Aurora Irae. But you probably already knew that, judging from the whole outfit,” Marella says, using fire alter ego’s name.
“Also the knife,” Biana smirks. “So, yeah, I suspected. Although the news has been calling you Aurora Ignis.”
“I know. I’ve tried to fix it. Several times. The news has decided that a serial arsonist such as myself should have the Latin word for fire in their name. But I think I know my own name. Since I was the one that picked it. So it’s irae. I-r-a-e.”
“Pronoun pun. I love.”
Marella smiles behind the mask, glad it conceals fire true expression. Fi makes a conscious decision to ask, “What?”
“Nevermind.” Biana pauses before switching to an entirely different track. “Is it related to the dies irae leitmotif at all?”
The dies irae, where the ‘dies’ part is two syllables because Latin, is a super famous bit of music--just four notes, which are a minor second, and then a minor third. With that kind of minor key influence, even without translating the entire poem, you can kind of tell that it isn’t the happiest leitmotif you’re ever going to find.
It often is used to represent death, and it’s in everything from Star Wars, to The Lion King, to the sound Elsa is hearing in like the entire, like, first half of Frozen 2 to an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Marella half-listened to.
If you want to know what it sounds like, “Making Christmas” from The Nightmare Before Christmas, is heavily drawn from the dies irae. As in the part where they say “Making Christmas” is the dies irae.
So if you ever hear some bit of music that sounds like “Making Christmas,” it could very well be an intentional use of the dies irae, and you should be looking for the death it’s foreshadowing.
If that doesn’t make it clear enough, the answer is yes. “Finally. Someone has culture. Have you played an instrument by any chance?” Marella asks, knowing full well that ae has.
“Yeah, viola for--wait, how many years? Since 4th grade. Seven-ish years. Close enough. You?”
“Like, maybe a year of clarinet. And then YouTube music theory channels that I can barely understand.” fi answers, with three years of clarinet under fire belt.
“You seem like a clarinet.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, just a vibe. You seem like you’d play clarinet.”
How the hell do you get that, Bi?
Marella pulls the knife just a hair back, away from Biana’s throat, enough to keep up appearances, but now that fi’s stopped shaking, fi doesn’t want to accidentally slit aer throat.
“Trust me, after dealing with instrument people, you start to give off a vibe. Why else would all the trumpets be arrogant arseholes?”
“Sounds fake, but okay.”
Biana laughs, and Marella’s stomach fills with familiar butterflies. “You’re not wrong. It’s like an instrumental gaydar. Wonder if it’s connected to my actual one.”
“Biana, a word of advice. Don’t tell the person with the knife know that you’re queer. What would you have done if I was homophobic?”
“Considering I don’t have a new hole in my neck, I’m pretty sure I’m okay.”
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Aw, are you worried about me?”
“Now I am!” Marella says, barely holding fireself back from revealing fire identity, because this is not okay. Fi also puts down the knife.
“Well, don’t. No reason to worry.”
There are a few obvious tells that Bi is thinking about Alden, and that is one of the most common one.
I’m so glad this mask hides any expression I might have. Because I’m ready to beat Alden’s ass and Bi doesn’t need to know that.
“Then why don’t I believe you?”
“Probably because you have to be paranoid enough to hold me at knifepoint.”
“Why did you sneak in here anyway?”
“My friends disproportionately enjoy daring me to break into places. It’s a gift and a curse. Been a while since I got caught. I honestly didn’t know you were here. Just thought it was your average abandoned warehouse.”
“Well, that’s why I picked it so that’s nice…I guess.”
Biana laughs. “You sound like my girlfriend.”
Oh, great. Forgot to disguise speech patterns. How am I supposed to remember that?
“We talked about this. I still have a knife. Don’t give me any personal details, if you can possibly help it. Because you don’t want questionably trustworthy people to be able to track you and the people you care about down.”
“I can protect myself, thanks.”
“Oh, Biana, how I wish I could believe that.”
“I’m tougher than I look.”
“You go on believing that,” Marella mutters.
“Hey, at least I don’t haven’t sent Alden Vacker a three page rant he because made some homophobic tweets…as much as I want to.”
“The news found out about that? Stars.”
“I really don’t know how they found out…it may or may not have been leaked by his daughtaer.” Biana smirks. “And they’ve decided you’re straightn’t, which just means they’re calling you gay until further notice. Because they don’t know any other terms.”
“Of course they did. But they were kind of right for once. I’m gay as hell. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t include that in your police report. I don’t need to piss off the homophobes more than I already do.”
“But pissing off the homophobes is fun…Also who said anything about a police report?"
“I’m pretty sure holding someone at knifepoint is some felony or another. And then there’s the whole arson thing but that’s whatever.”
“Um, so does breaking and entering, if I’m not mistaken. Or trespassing or whatever I’m doing here.”
“Okay, that’s fair,” Marella says, closing the pocket knife. If Bi wanted to run away, ae would have already.
“Thanks,” ae says sarcastically.
“You’re welcome,” fi replies, just as sarcastically.
“So does that mean I can…” Bi gestures towards the door.
“As long as you don’t tell anyone where I am. If you do, I will find you and slit your throat. And don’t try to find a legal loophole out of it like a politician.”
“Except for when it accidentally legalizes arson for people who don’t exclusively use binary pronouns.”
Marella stops. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, in the US’s arson laws, it explicitly uses ‘he or she’ blah blah blah I don’t really care about the rest.”
“Is that why the news is so determined to use he/him for me? Because I have done my absolute best to present as nonbinary and yet here we are.”
“May I ask what you’d like pronoun-wise for my mental dictionary then?”
“I guess they/them works. Gender is yucky.”
Biana laughs, making fi’s heart flutter. They’ve been dating for months now and it still won’t stop with that.
“That’s the most correct thing I’ve heard all week. And maybe try looking into neopronouns if the trinary doesn’t feel like it fits.”
Marella nods, saying, “I will,” knowing full well that fi’d love to use fi/fire pronouns but that just doesn’t seem feasible. Aurora Irae can’t know about neopronouns before today, because that’s much too small of a community, so it’d be too easy to find fire from there, and Marella can’t just use fi/fire while there’s a serial arsonist running around.
“Alright. Then I guess I’ll see you never.”
“Bye. Remember, you better not tell anyone about this place.”
Biana turns to leave before whipping back around again. “Wait, one more thing. You remember Alden, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“When he gets caught and then inevitably pardoned for tax evasion or something, put him on your list.”
Oh, great, Biana is trying to make an arsonist murder aer father. I knew their relationship was bad but holy fuck.
“Okay.”
“He’s a horrible, queerphobic bast--wait, you agreed?”
“Yeah, sure, why not? Small price to pay for security. Plus, he fits my business model.”
Biana smiles amusedly. “Business model?”
“Business model, modus operandi, same thing.”
Biana snorts. “I don’t think I’ve got anything else, so bye!” Ae walks backward, waving, and Marella spends the entire time worrying that ae’s gonna trip on something and hurt aerself, but ae somehow avoids all of the rubble that Marella likes to think of as interior decor.
It’s what makes aer so good at being in places ae shouldn’t be.
Fi waves halfheartedly, making sure Biana gets off fire property before sighing and climbing back downstairs.
As the adrenaline fades, the nerves in fire shoulder that fi’d been ignoring throw a fit, and peeling fire jacket off is more painful than earlier, with even more semi-dried blood fusing fire to fire jacket.
Fi finishes patching fireself up as best as fi can before beginning to pack up fire meager belongings that get left here unattended.
Yes, Marella trusts Biana, but that doesn’t mean Aurora Irae can.
And if ae doesn’t hold up aer end of the bargain, there’s no telling how severe the fallout will be.
It’s morning before fi knows it. Marella sighs as fi watches the sunrise, already mapping a mental route to the nearest coffeeshop.
It’s a jumble of emotions as Marella throws fire signature accelerant, designed to burn bright yellow with just a dusting of sodium--fi didn’t get to use it last night because of outside factors--and it wipes away any trace that fi’d ever been here.
There’s plenty of other abandoned buildings out there, fi tells fireself as fi watches the flames consume fire warehouse.
Marella is almost in a trance until reality comes back to slap fire in the face, and fi takes off running towards fire high school, with not nearly enough time to be on time to fire first class.
Don’t you people know that I have to go real estate shopping later today? I don’t have time for this much homework, Marella thinks bitterly, joining her friends in the hallway, who have already started joking about nothing, per usual.
But, it’s nice to have this normal high school experience sometimes, especially after last night.
“Bi, do you think you can maybe help me?” Keefe asks, causing Biana to sigh heavily.
“What’s your idea this time?"
It shrugs. “Just a little something for Principal Alina. I need you to break into her office for me.”
Biana, just like everyone else here, knows that this isn’t the whole story, but has given up fighting a long time ago. “Text me the details. I don’t have enough energy to argue.”
“You sleep alright?” Marella asks.
Ae yawns, and Marella notices the dark circles under aer eyes. “Yeah. I just had more homework than I thought.”
Liar. You didn’t have any homework. You told me yourself. I should be proud that you’re willing to lie for Aurora Irae.
Did you lose sleep thinking about them? As your girlfriend, that’s disappointing but understandable.
Maruca blows hir nose for the several hundredth time today. “I’ve probably just infected aer. You might be next.” Hir parents are convinced it’s just allergies. But we've collectively decided it’s one heck of a head cold. Antihistamines aren’t helping.
“Is that a threat?” Stina asks, smirking.
“Do you want it to be?” Ze looks at her, raising an eyebrow.
The others just collectively ignore the fact that they’ve been queerplatonically flirting for months now and yet, somehow, they’re still ignorant of what’s going on between them. So everybody willfully ignores it.
It’s not like you can tell either of them what they’re too oblivious to see.
Linh saves everyone, asking, “Wait, Bi, didn’t we send you off on a mission last night?”
Before ae can respond, Fitz joins the group, interrupting, “Yes, you did. And that warehouse was targeted by Aurora Ignis this morning. You should be lucky you weren’t in there. It’s all over the local news.”
“Damn,” Keefe mutters, not-so-discreetly watching its best friend’s ass as he walks away. It’s anyone’s guess where its statement applies.
“Anything interesting happen while you were there?” Marella asks, choosing to ignore Keefe. If you can’t tell, there’s kind of a trend here.
Biana swallows hard, and Marella sees a fine line on aer throat from last night’s events.
Worse case scenario, it’ll blend right into the car crash scars covering aer entire left side from a few years ago.
“Nope,” ae answers, voice shaking only slightly. If anyone notices it, they don’t point it out.
“Aw, that’s disappointing.” Keefe says. “Fitzy could use a prompt for hine creative writing class.”
Linh looks at it. “We’re in the middle of our poetry unit.”
“Hey, I don’t know how that works. Eddie Poe could probably figure it out.”
Fae shudders. “That’s because Poe is a motherfucking genius.”
“What would Bangs Boy think about your language, young laedy?"
“Tam is your boyfriend and swears like a sailor. Don’t even try that with me.”
“Uh, we’re on a break right now, and the fact that you don’t know that…my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.”
“I’m already a disappointment to my parents, do you think I care?”
Fae had to go there, didn’t fae?
“And so is everyone here. That doesn’t make you special,” Keefe argues.
Stina interjects, “No, I’m not.”
“Shut up,” Keefe growls, not as angry at it wants to seem like it is.
“Have fun with that. See ya later, bitches,” Stina says, turning away to her next class.
Keefe gets dropped off for its math class that it’s going to inevitably skip one way or another, and then Maruca and Linh get dropped off at their required US history class.
Nobody except for Fitzy wants to take that. And even that’s debatable some days, so you know it’s bad.
All that’s left is Marella and Biana, holding hands as they walk down to the science halls.
“You’re sure nothing happened yesterday, love?” Marella asks.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. No reason to worry.”
That just makes me worry more, you know that, right?
“Wow. So convincing.” Marella replies, piling the sarcasm on thick.
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”
Marella squeezes aer hand. “I’m always here if you need me. Maybe not in the physical plane and I might miraculously be away from my phone for a millisecond, but, you know, metaphorically.”
Biana just barely smiles, complex emotions that words can’t quite describe etched into every line.
“I’ll see you after class? ‘Cause you can’t get rid of me this easily.”
Marella’s hand slips from Biana’s grasp as she heads into her AP Chem class she regrets taking every single day.
Stars, I’m a horrible person. Ae feels like shit. Because of me and me alone.
But you had to make sure Aurora Irae’s secret was safe.
I guess. But there really isn’t much left to tell anymore.
You don’t know what could end up being your downfall. Your secrets will be safe as long as nobody knows anything.
That’s a really damn lonely way to live. But it’s not like I’ve got any better solutions.
