fake fic title: all these years and i can still smell the roses
all these years and i can still smell the roses [crossover fic; critical role: exandria & critical role: aramán; fearne calloway grew up in a very different part of the feywild, but by the time she gets back there, it's already gone.]
"What happened?" "The Tachonis bastards," Thimble says. Fearne's eyes well up with tears at the sound of the pixie's wings, buzzing beside her ear. They're not melodic anymore, but jagged and harsh, their beating as discordant and rough as broken glass jangled around in a box. "They did it, Fearne. They destroyed our family, our home -" "I think I'm going to burn them," Fearne says softly. She can feel the fire welling up within her veins. It doesn't always manifest that way. Mostly, it's a lovely fire, warm and sparkling and beautiful - but right now, it's white-hot and bloody, ready to feed. She hasn't been angry in a very long time. Being angry isn't fun. She thinks she might be very angry right now, and she's not sure if it's ever going to stop. "Honestly, I'm probably going to turn their bones to dust." Thimble makes a small sound that might be a laugh, or a sob, or a combination of both. She zooms in front of Fearne's face. Her needles are already drawn, their pin-point pricks sharpened to a deadly sheen. An ache of affection cuts through the burgeoning fury in Fearne's heart. It's been so long since she's seen the pixie in the flesh. Her oldest, dearest childhood friend. It's terrible that something like this had to happen to bring them back together at the Orchard. It's terrible that they'll never truly get to go back home. "You know, that sounds like my kind of plan," Thimble says. "Did I ever tell you about my friends from the Torn Banner days? You're gonna get along great."
send me a made-up fic title and I'll tell you what I'd write!
