va'esse deireádh aep eigean, va'esse eigh faidh'ar

Yoinked from snickfic and muccamukk, The last five fics I wrote with song lyric titles. Cheating and doing last five crossposted rather than last five written, per usual. Everything's a Bandcamp link except the Amberian Dawn song, which is youtube.

liquid smooth. overwatch, ana/mercy. angela likes being watched. 2.3k words, rated e.
Title from Mitski's 'Liquid Smooth', for the combination of sensuality + nodding at the age gap.

of gilded silhouettes. star wars sequels, amilyn/leia. sex in an x-wing, and other fun ideas. 1k words, rated e.
Title from Ne Obliviscaris' 'Eyrie', for the way the space theme and imagery vibed with the 'neutron star' prompt.

in my hair i felt a thousand suns. jordskott, esmeralda, klara. esme learns to dance and the forest lights her way. 444w, rated t.
Title from Amberian Dawn's 'Cherish My Memory', for reasons I no longer recall since this was first posted in 2016. Probably I was connecting it to the 'fireflies' prompt.

i entitled you my favourite scar. critical role, raven queen/vesh. a young woman marries the god of death, and kills her too. 1k words, rated t.
Title from Diablo Swing Orchestra's 'Wedding March for a Bullet', for reasons of marriage (threat) and the way it's just Exactly how I picture their relationship.

memories in paraphrase. star trek: deep space 9, kimara/nerys. on the difficulties of wanting something new. 745w, rated t.
Title from The Birthday Massacre's 'Holiday', for the trying to figure out how to move forward when the past is soso heavy.

I know it says six but whomst is counting (me, actually) or more precisely whomst cares (not me, as it happens). Anyway, have the first two paragraphs of the Jordskott thing I have vague dreams of finishing before bed.

Ida does not wish she could speak, not really. The noise of the world crawls over her skin and under her bones, and she is not yet ready to join it. There is nothing she needs to add with her voice, not yet: nothing she cannot add with her art, colours blooming to life under her fingers, or her feet, marking careful trails through the green.

The world is very green, and very loud. Ida, she learned before she was ever asked to speak, is very silver and very quiet. It is a good balance, she thinks. A necessary one.

It's been four years and these girls and their lullaby still hurt me?