Scrambled Things

Wolf Post.

Release that Primal Rage.

Scar Post.

I drew a silly puffin

The Bat Becomes The Prey.

I want my crossover. Badly.

One day

Mara squeezed his hand so hard Luke fought a reflexive wince. She had never looked so gorgeous, but also never seemed so nervous. Sure, things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, but they should be used to that by now.

“You all right?” he whispered, focusing on her in the Force and nothing else. No easy feat, considering the huge crowd watching them.

“Why are we doing this again?”

Mara’s voice was low, but she was calming.

“Because you want everyone in the galaxy to know I’m off the market,” he grinned. “Right?”

“Right,” Mara smiled, as the ceremony began.

“I’m too cold to sleep!”

Luke cocked an exaggerated eyebrow at his son, currently buried under high-insulation blankets, atop a heated mattress.

“Csilla’s cold, Ben, but you’re not.” He stood up, ready to turn in for the night himself.

“I am,” the child insisted. “Freezing.”

Luke took a deep breath, ready to break out his “parenting voice,” when he saw the slightest tremble beneath the mountain of covers. Placing the back of his hand on Ben’s forehead, he hid his alarm. The kid was shivering. And burning with fever.

“Let’s get you to medbay,” Luke said, reaching for his comm.