magic star dust


Reunion microfic set right now? 

Tagging @lepus-arcticus for her autumn fetish; @today-in-fic and @fictober

Pumpkin light and the snap of leaves underfoot. She gripped his hand, fingers entwined, as they followed their breath and the moonlight. Magical swirls of stars dusted the sky, their undulating patterns reminding him of her curves and furls. How did he get so romantic? He’d been dead on the inside for years. Almost dead for weeks. She’d breathed life back into him.

            Now, smoky air filled his lungs and she leaned into him, pressing her cool form to his warmth. They still fitted together, still knew where each edge and groove slotted. She’d shown him that yesterday, when she lay down with him in the amber light of dusk and loved him once again. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her sounds and faces, her fingertips and eyelashes fluttering. His skin remembered though, and his heart. And when she curled up next to him to sleep, his memory spilled out to fill his veins with love.

           “They’re baking potatoes, Mulder.”

           The earthy smell grew stronger as they approached. They ordered and she remained silent, tucked into him. Heart on heart, he mused.

           Yellow butter and shredded cheese melted onto flesh, bright green chives and black pepper. The colours melded. They held the potatoes up to their faces for the heat and the aroma. She ate slowly and he watched her.

           “What are we doing here, Scully?”

           She folded her plastic fork into the napkin and looked around. The plume of her breath shone in the streetlight. When she turned to face him again, there was a wistfulness across her face, in the slant of her head, in the squeeze of her fingers on his arm.

           “Living, Mulder.”

One of my pet peeves about the Prequel Trilogy is the idea that Anakin Skywalker was a “virgin birth.”

Look, I know people like to sling around the term “immaculate conception."  This is wrong wrong wrong.  I’m Catholic; this is part of my catechism okay?  TL;DR - to be an immaculate conception is to be born without Original Sin (which is basically Adam and Eve eating the Forbidden Fruit, passing this Sin on to all generations of humankind) and that goes into a whole lotta complicated theology that we don’t have time to get into but basically – Immaculate Conception is NOT a Virgin Birth.   And unless we somehow have Catholic Jedi in the GFFA, this whole concept isn’t gonna make sense.

But I digress.

Seriously, how the hell did this work?  Did Shmi just wake up with a case of morning sickness, realize she’d skipped periods but knew she’d never had sex with another man?  (I shudder to think at the fridge horror here, considering her slave status).  Magic midi-chlorians suddenly gave her a baby?  Add water and stir?

Personally, I think it would have made a hella lot more sense if Shmi Skywalker’s husband/lover had been an ex-Sith Lord. 

Maybe he was actually trained at the same time Palpatine was, and Palpatine tried to kill him because of the ‘Rule of Two’ tradition.  And maybe, somewhere along the way, Darth Skywalker realizes that the Dark Side is ultimately weak, because it is rooted in greed and fear and selfishness and anger and hate. 

And maybe he realizes that to use the Force is to achieve a balance in oneself - to be able to wield this kind of power to destroy but also to create.  To be able to deal with death, but also to save lives.  To understand that love isn’t a weakness - it is strength. 

So yeah, maybe he falls in love with a Shmi who was still free and hopeful and they flee to make a life of their own, on their own rules.  But tragedy strikes while Shmi is pregnant with their son and ex-Darth Skywalker is killed and Shmi can only tell her son stories about his father and hopes, one day, to tell him the truth about his past. 

But the Jedi come and Shmi holds her silence and her secrets and she lets them take her son, for the sake of his future and is sadly disappointed when the great Jedi don’t bother to return for a boy’s mother, to free a slave woman.  She’d thought, perhaps, the Jedi were better than that - her husband had spoken, half mockingly, half admiringly - of the "goodness” of these Light Side Force Users.

Shmi can survive, though and she builds a life of her own and finds love again with Cliegg Lars and waits and waits and waits for her Anakin to return, so she can tell him the truth about his father.  The things that the Jedi cannot know, could never teach him. 

Except Shmi is taken by the Tusken Raiders and there is not enough time, and it’s counted out in gasps and whispers and last words of love. 

Shmi dies with her story untold.

—  Stupid Midichlorians, A Blanket Fort Headcanon

Girls who like girls are so beautiful and magical and made of star dust and glitter and I’m so so proud of all girls who have recently realised that they’re lesbians and all girls who have been Gay™️ As Hell from birth also – I love you all with every single fibre in my body and you deserve the entire world and nothing less