“Can't kriffing believe he sent a Naboo to kriffing Tatooine,” Owen says, too loud, but—they're in the middle of the wilderness. There's no one who’s going to hear him except the Force, and if it does hear him, he hopes it turns around and beats some light-bedamned sense into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s skull. In his lap, fully entranced by the corner of the blanket Owen has him bundled in, Luke coos, beams, and flips his tail. The fancy, flowing, colorful fins slap Owen’s thigh, and he sighs, tugs the bottom of the wrap down to hide as much as he can.

“Sergeant, are you hurt, too? No? Are you sure?” A pause. “Fine, sit down and take his hand,” the medic orders. Every medic has his own strategies to care for his brothers. These are medic Boil's.

Depa takes one step into the council chambers and stops dead, clapping a hand over her mouth.

Twenty is probably too young to die, even for a shinobi, but if anyone can kill Sakura with sheer attractiveness, it's Kori.

Eight (short) Hanukkah fics featuring the Bats

Izuku is de-aged and Dadzawa acts as if it's perfectly normal.