Happy Pride Month, everyone! I’ve been putting off writing for a while, but I needed to, so I finally did! Here is a short Marelliana fanfic by yours truly, from Marella's perspective, and set when she and Biana are near the end of Level Six at Foxfire. Yes, I know they are both female, and yes, I know that some people aren’t open to or supportive of LGBTQ+, so I would like to ask that you do not read this or leave any homophobic comments if that is the case for you - however, I don’t want to have to ask people to be okay with something that should be normalized. Constructive criticism is welcome - and oh, btw, I wrote this at 11 PM, so it’s not going to be perfect, anyway, enjoy!


-Cress/MagicDaydreamer



Marella sighed, attempting and failing miserably to distract herself by igniting, snuffing out, and re-igniting (she wasn’t even sure if that was a word) freezing, feathery teal flames that always smelled a bit too much like spearmint, emitted odd rustling breaths and somehow managed to keep her centered.

However, she had a bit of a dilemma - they weren’t today. Because the reason that they usually kept her centered was leading her mind to the thing she was forever trying to distract herself from. Why couldn’t the cold, minty fire that she loved so much have been yellow instead? No, too much like Everblaze. Pale blue? Too much like the ubiquitous balefire. Lilac? It wouldn’t be much help, it was Biana’s favorite color - still, it would’ve been nice if she could choose. They had to be teal, of all colors. Had to be the color of her girlfriend’s eyes.

Princess Prettypants. The sister of Fitzroy Vacker, the intelligent, popular, powerful cute guy that half of Foxfire was in love with. That Marella had thought she liked.

That’s all Biana had been. All she was supposed to be. And now Marella wished that she hadn’t tripped into the huge ocean of jealousy that sucked her into a crush that she realized would never fade.

When they had agreed to date, it was in a friendly, more platonic way - at least for Biana. Which, of course, Marella hadn’t realized.

“My parents would take me to the matchmakers even if they knew I was dating someone!”

“Yeah, right. They’ll get so mad and disappointed that their daughter is dating a female Pyrokinetic. For goodness sake, I thought you didn’t give a darn about matchmaking. Sure, sure, it wasn’t your choice when your parents registered you. You were, what, fifteen? But it turns out you do - you’re trying to go and get a match list now?! A useless paper telling you which noble, registered men with legal abilities you’re allowed to marry and have perfect little beautiful powerful Vacker babies with. It’s obvious that you do care about your family’s reputation and that crud that the Council keeps trying to reinforce... You don’t care about me.”

“Seriously? Seriously!?” Biana spat. “What the heck, Marella, I’m allowed to have a normal life. For goodness sake, will you just stop? You’re angry that I actually have control over some of the things I do. You’re supposed to get it - all those crush cuffs you bought for my brother four years ago? All those ‘ooh, I wonder who’ll be on my list’ things back in Level Three?”

“If you care so much about it, fine! Just leave me alone to sulk here until smoke literally comes out of my ears, since I can’t go crying to my flawless family like you can.”

“Okay, then. It sounds like you’ve made up your mind,” retorted Biana. Evidently, she was making some effort to sound cool and indifferent, but she’d never been a master at masking whatever was floating around inside her head. “Why are you even still here?”

“I want to see how long you can argue with me - and it seems like you enjoy it.


And yet here she was, perched on Everglen’s gate, not even feebly attempting to wipe her mind of her girlfriend’s face or her face of the warm, wet pools of salt dripping faster than they ever had before.

“Marella?” whispered a soft, accented voice that she didn’t want to hear. Or maybe she did.

Marella flinched. She’d been getting used to hearing Biana’s disembodied voice when she couldn’t see her, but the shock of hearing the voice that’d been playing on repeat in her broken-record brain made her wish she were a Vanisher. Or a Shade. Or anything but a useless failed attempt to trigger Empathy.

Biana blinked into sight, then out again, flickering back and forth like one or Marella’s flames.

“Hey,” she said, much more gently than Marella had been expecting. “I thought you’d left.”

“And I thought you’d gone to see some strangers who wanted to tell you which other strangers you were allowed to spend time with.” Marella’s tone was casual, but her words cut through with a much harsher bite than she’d been intending.

Biana winced and wouldn’t meet Marella’s gaze.

“That’s why I didn’t,” she muttered.

“What?”

“I sort of broke down after arriving in Atlantis,” Biana admitted. “My parents weren’t with me, so I disappeared and turned around...I’m not ready. It’s just so early - we’re still in school! You won’t be in the Elite Levels with me, and I want this to last. I’m going to be surrounded by strangers. None of them mean anything. I want you to be the one.”

Both girls stared off into space and breathed in the warm blanket of silence that had settled in the air.

“You’re crying.”

“I know.”

Biana’s lips brushed her cheek, a tiny flutter that made her want a star to appear in the night sky, so she could wish that the moment would last forever.

“Biana?” Marella murmured as her girlfriend rested her head and arm on Marella’s shoulder, taking in every little thing flooding her senses - Biana’s soft, warm, breaths, the lemony scent of Biana’s chocolate curls, the azure sky that went on forever and ever…

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me that this’ll last forever in my mind?”

A small, sunny smile crept across her face.

“Of course, Mare. Only if you’ll do the same for me.”

Marella laughed at the eternally-irritating nickname. She willed her fire to treat the sky like a chalkboard.

Biana gasped at the shining purple letters, stars glittering just for the two of them.

‘I PROMISE’

“I - I - thank you…”

“Thank you, Princess Prettypants.”

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