femslash drabble commentfic meme

[saiditallbefore]

Thanks for joining me in this femslash drabble meme!

Rules:

• A drabble is defined as strictly 100 words. This can vary slightly on different word processors, so use your best judgment. Double drabbles (200 words exactly) and triple drabbles (300 words exactly) are allowed, as are drabble sequences (a related series of single, double or triple drabbles).


• All prompts and drabbles must be about a sexual or romantic relationship between two or more women. Any f/f(/f+) pairing from any fandom is welcome.


• Genderbent characters/pairings are allowed, as long as they are genderbent to be f/f.


• RPF is allowed, so long as all requested characters are 18+ and are notable in their own right.


• Please link all fills in the fills thread. Multiple and self-fills are welcome. If you are cross-posting from ao3, no additional warnings are necessary. If you are posting directly in the comments, please include any necessary content warnings.


• The meme is open for prompts and fills through April 30th.

Example prompts:

• Greta/Carson (A League of Their Own TV), say you'll see me again / even if it's just in your wildest dreams


• Andy/OFC (The Old Guard), across enemy lines


• River Song (Doctor Who)/Chelli Lona Aphra (Star Wars), ancient history


• F!Lan/Nynaeve, devotion

Comments

[sheenianni]

Any, Any, Reunion

Kaycee/Grimora, Inscryption

[hebethen]

"Hello, Kaycee." A candle standing at vigil. The clank of ancient chains unclasped.

And as if the name were an invocation, there you are, yourself, suddenly-and-always, sundered from the ghost you wrote into the game.

"Hello, Grimora."

(Your voice, lonely in the stillness, feels like it should scrape and croak. It doesn't. It's your voice, as it ever was, light and crisp-voweled and slightly nasal even to your own ears.)

"Welcome back, my dear." The tolling of a midnight bell. "Come, come... it's been too long since we've had you!" A crypt-door creaking open.

You approach, shivering. The Kaycee-character's wisps of burial shroud offer little protection against the chill. "Are we really still here? Have you found another way -- or this is the afterlife somehow?" A laugh explodes from you, abrupt as a sneeze. "God, if it is!"

"No, dear, I'm afraid it's bad news all around." Bone dice clattering. "We must start over. Would you help us again?"

"Of course," you say automatically. This close, her presence is paradoxical, at once death's inevitable inertia and the gently alluring promise of peaceful rest.

Cool, papery fingers slip under your chin. Rustling pages. "Then, please, accept my blessing."

Overwhelmed, you close your eyes rather than meet the white-hot glow of hers, and submit to her wordless guidance until you're kneeling on the rough-grained tiles. Her lips press against your forehead, inking their imprint in shining black.

"Rise," Grimora says, tender. You aren't cold anymore.

You rise. On impulse, you pull her hand toward yourself and press your own lips to it.

You could meet her gaze now, if you wanted, protected by her blessing. You don't; you know she could read you like a book if you did.

You sneak a glance from beneath your lashes, and suspect she already has.