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

Galadriel/Míriel, Rings of Power future fic

[ladybrooke]

(Warning for referenced past character death)

The world is remade, and Galadriel finds Miriel again, on the beaches of Alqualondë. In the distance is the space where Númenor once was and now is again, and farther than that are the shores where once they fought together.

“Your father gave me this when I told him of our past meetings,” Míriel says as she turns, holding a cloak in her hands. Galadriel’s emblem is embroidered on the edges, in soft threads and even stitches. It is Finarfin’s work, gifting gentleness out of destruction every chance he gets.

Finarfin once tried to teach Galadriel that, but only Míriel’s death had made the lessons stick.

“Softness was new to me in death,” Míriel says at last, still turning the fabric around in her hands. “None could afford it in the Númenor I was born to.”

“My father gifted it to my brothers and I at every chance, but we turned from it.” But Miriel knows enough of the past already, so Galadriel instead runs her fingers over the cloak. “Will you take it?”

Míriel smiles again, as she did in the memories Galadriel clung to desperately, and takes her old cloak off. “If you will take what is mine.”