#cara mara fics

[authortobenamedlater]

3, 7, 8, and 16 for whichever AU you want to talk about most.

(Grr argh starting all over after Tumblr ate my post.)

This got LONG and took most of the day to write. Splitting between MRR and MWAS because I can’t choose 😂 and they are my only active AUs right now.

AU fanfic asks

3. Did anything inspire this au?

MRR: I made a comment like “LOL Mando and Bo-Katan are gonna have to get political married next season” and Mr said “You should write that.”

MWAS: Mr would say our home life 🤣 which is true to an extent. But the whole AU itself? I can’t point to anything besides a general “Oh please can ONE PERSON in this messed-up universe find some happiness?”

7. What ships are canon in this au?

MRR: DinBo, Luke/Mara, Karga/unnamed OC wife, Han/Leia. Han/Leia won’t make any huge appearances, I don’t think. There is room for expansion down the line.

MWAS: Tom/Chyler is it for now. However, there will at some point be mention of Chyler’s brother/his wife and the ops officer who has a thing for Sarah Palmer 😜 I haven’t put too much thought into those yet.

I guess Audrey/Jim counts? Even though Jim (Tom’s dad) is dead, he gets talked about enough I’ll include this as a ship. Same for Chyler’s parents.

Oh! Edward Buck/Veronica Dare, since I mentioned them once. Maybe they’ll be back?

8. What platonic relationships are important in this au?

MRR: Luke and Mara + Din and Bo-Katan. At some point Din and Luke look at each other and sigh “redheads.”

Grogu and everyone.

Cara + Din and Bo-Katan. Cara convinces Bo to give Din a shot, not knowing it’s going to turn into a royal marriage.

Bo-Katan and Satine. Satine is dead but Bo-Katan thinks about her a lot, and feels tremendous guilt for the rift in their relationship.

Din and his parents. Have not done anything here but want to explore this in the future. I have many headcanons about the elder Djarins.

I’m sure there are others, but those are the big ones I can think of.

MWAS: Palmer + Tom and Chyler. Palmer spends most of her time making sure Chyler still has a husband at the end of the day.

Roland and everyone. The little orange bastard (affectionate or derogatory, depends on the day) sees all and hears all.

Audrey + Tom and Chyler. Chyler REALLY pushes Tom to mend his relationship with Audrey.

Grayson and family + Tom and Chyler. Chyler’s brother has a wife and kids, no names as of now.

All the Circinius survivors: Don’t know how or when but they all get together sometime.

Master Chief + Tom and Chyler: It’s not exactly a “relationship” cause, well, it’s Chief. But Chief knows about Tom and Chyler (he finds out in a fic I’ll write eventually) and knowing two of the kids he rescued on his first major deployment found some measure of peace with each other kinda blows his mind a little. It means a lot to him, and they mean a lot to him, but, as I said, it’s Chief 😂 relationships aren’t his thing unless you’re a fellow S-II or Cortana.

16. Are there any ocs in this fic?

MRR: Thus far baby Satine is the only one I’ve introduced. However, there will be others as opportunities arise.

MWAS: The only one I’ve used so far is Jim Lasky, and as we’ve established he’s dead. I’m going to have to make A LOT of OCs because we don’t meet any of the Infinity command/senior staff besides Lasky and Palmer. This is something of a daunting task if I’m being real.

[caramara3]

COMING SOON!!!

More Than Friends: a Fezco x OFC Euphoria Mini Series

***yes I know this isn't the original story, but inspiration took over and the original became nothing more than a draft.***

Summary: Fezco and Brielle "Brie" Townsend have been been friends for well over a decade now ever since she moved to East Highland when she was eight. Fez loves Brie, and Brie loves Fez, but neither one of them have the courage to ever cross those boundaries of their friendship. Until the night of McKay's party...

[caramarafics]

Update for Heart of Glass...

OK SOOOO..... i owe you guys an apology. I had every intention of posting the next chapter (hell the next two chapters) within the time frame I had originally said, about three weeks ago. But then life decided to come on in and say "HA! YOU WISH."

For those of you who do not know, I own a private home bakery that has been slowly but surely taking off, and my busiest time is always around the holiday season i.e. Thanksgiving and Christmas. Now I knew I would have maybe a few orders for Thanksgiving, nothing too crazy. Never once did I assume that I would get overwhelmed with how many dessert orders I would get (over 75 total!!) that I wouldn't have a chance to stop and eat something, have a lil pee break, let alone even open up my google docs for a second!

Your girl has been so booked and busy, just ask the bestie @royallyprincesslilly.

And Christmastime is going be no better, currently sitting at 45 orders for Christmas goodies. But I want you to know that I have not given up on the story or forgotten about it in anyway shape or form. It is still happening, it is still in formation... we are still live and in color for Heart of Glass.

Just please be patient with me as I try to balance that, my 9 to 5, and fitting in time to write. I promise you won't regret it. Thank you so much.

[darthskys]

su’cuy! my name is dre (they/he/she) i’m 18+, & i obviously love star wars

PLEASE READ THE INFORMATION BELOW IF YOU ARE PARTICULAR ABOUT THE SW CONTENT YOU EXPOSE YOURSELF TO; I AM HERE TO LIVE IN MY LITTLE BUBBLE AND I RESPECT YOURS AS WELL, SO PLEASE DO NOT COME FOR ME, THANK YOU <3<3

(please be mindful if you are a minor or uncomfortable with sexual content; i include tws for sexual content & gore posts, however these are a rare occasion!)

here are some incentives either to follow or unfollow:

i follow/post content of:

- all trilogies, live action series, stand alone films, & animated series & films

- canon & legends novels & comics (i’m just a simple reader making my way through the legendsverse)

- canon & legends videogames

- other people’s sw ocs & fic recs; keep up the good work!

ships i absolutely cannot tolerate are:

- obikin

- obiqui

- anisoka

- maulsoka

- lukeleia or hanleialuke

- any clonecest

things i (even just lowkey and rarely) ship that i am obligated to warn you about, as i’ve seen them claimed to be controversial are:

- anidala

- obimaul

- reylo

- caltrilla

- dinluke

- codywan

- kylux

- benpoe

- vostress

- ahsokatan

the rest of the the ships i post about are relatively unchallenged in every way (i also ship some poly ships, so be aware of that and do not spread hate, ty!)

opinions of mine you might want to consider (AKA don’t @ me) are:

- anakin will always be the chosen one and no one else; he restored balance in his own way, and here’s my monologue about it

- the jedi didn’t deserve what they got and the empire is never right. sometimes they’re sexy, yeah, but not right

- the clones have a right to turn to the way of the mandalore

- din’s creed is not inherently cultist and your attempts to compare it to existing religions aren’t okay

- maul is redeemable. read legends. ben solo is also redeemable, but i’m hardly invested in his character anyway. galen’s redemption was too easy. barriss offee redemption when??

- i don’t think anakin actually caused padmé’s death, but hey, i’m a delusional romantic

- talk shit about rey and i block you — the sequel trilogy failed in the way it treated its characters, not because of rey skywalker; and here’s my monologue about that

- if you blame qui-gon or obi-wan for what happened, i legitimately hate you <3 also, the jedi were shit in several aspects but they also were not, and i have another monologue here on why some of you need to ease up

- she was a terror in the mandalorian, but i still like bo-katan. on the other hand, rose tico did nothing wrong and if i see you diss her i will block you. same goes for mace windu! we love a king (but that whole jango thing was mean, sir)

- i believe ben had a bad childhood and that therefore means han and leia were not compatible, but the unrealistic hopeless romantic in me refuses to accept that, so this is why i prefer to forget ben exists sometimes :’)

- reimagining characters (such as padmé) as poc will always always always be okay and encouraged

- cara dune is separate from her horrid actress, so can we please include cara? :’(

- luke is not a twink bottom. excuse you, he is a twunk switch...smh. also no shit talking about mara! like yeah we all know there is no way luke is straight, but we don’t put down queens

rarer pairs you might like to know that i ship (that i have not previously mentioned) are:

- lukelando

- hanlando

- barrissoka

- hanboba

- bobannec

- cobbbobafennec

- dincobb

- cararmorer

- mandomera

- lukewedge

- lukebiggs

- skybridger

- finnreypoe

- reyrose

- finnrey

- finnrose

- kenobane

- obianidala

- quinobi

- rexwalker

- kalluzeb

- revastila

- thrawnto

- droid husbands

- spiritassassin

- vaderdala

- zaynejarael

- ventrobi

- obivostress

[ooops-i-arted]

Ok. How about a fic where The Mandalorian takes The Child to Luke Skywalker at the Jedi Praxeum on Yavin 4?

Alrighty here’s what I came up with.

Notes: 1. Kept timelines/characters present at the Praxeum vague because I do what I want. 2. Din got the baby into speech therapy for his language delay and he talks now.

-

The Razor Crest dropped out of hyperspace and the looming orange gas giant of Yavin immediately filled the viewscreen.  “Here we are,” said Din to the little green child in his lap.  “Yavin.”

“Abbin,” repeated the child.

“Yes, Yavin.  And we’re headed to Yavin IV.  To the Jedi… Praxeum.”  Din had never heard the word before, though the context he’d picked up from his call with Skywalker indicated it was a school of some sort.

“Pak-sum,” said the kid.

Din angled the Razor Crest towards the tiny green moon.  He’d barely heard of it, though Cara had told him all about how it was the site of the vital Battle of Yavin, where the Death Star had been destroyed by Skywalker himself.  Later, Skywalker had decided to establish his school there.  Cara didn’t know much about that, but she had been able to tell him a school for potential Jetii did exist and where to attempt contact.  Skywalker himself had answered the holo and eagerly invited him and the kid to come visit.

“Abbin!” said the kid, pointing out the viewfinder.  He tried to climb up the dashboard, but Din pulled him back into his lap.  He might be nervous about visiting the school, and Din didn’t want him to be nervous, and holding the kid always calmed him down.

The Praxeum sent him landing coordinates and he guided the ship down.  The kid squealed excitedly as they descended through the lush greenery.  “Bwee, bwee, gween!”

“Buir,” corrected Din automatically.  “And yes, it’s all green.”

“I wan fwog.”

“We can look for frogs later.”  Din had already checked the Holonet and the amphibian species on this planet were not poisonous.  “First we’re meeting Skywalker.”

The ship settled onto the ground on a duracrete pad that had been set up in a cleared area of the jungle.  Din could see the huge pyramid of the Praxeum nearby.  He was so busy looking he barely noticed that his kid had run ahead and was already sliding down the ladder and heading for the door.

“Hey!”  Din ran after in time to see the kid already raising his hand to try and move the door with the Force.  He scooped him up before he could succeed; disrupting his concentration was about the only strategy Din had left when the kid got stubborn.  “Bwee,” whined the kid.

“Hey, listen.”  Din held him so that he could see his kid’s face.  “Listen, there’s no reason to be nervous.  We’re just here to look.  If you don’t like it, just say so, and we’ll leave, okay?”

The kid scowled.  “Bwee, Abbin,” he said, pointing insistently at the door.

“Okay, okay.”  Din reached for the control panel and opened the door.

The humidity and smell of the Yavin jungle immediately hit them full force.  The kid squealed, kicking his feet, demanding, “Bwee, down!  Wan down!”

“Not yet,” said Din.  After all, the kid might still be nervous.  No need to let go of him yet.

As soon as Din stepped off the ship he saw Skywalker walking towards him, dressed in long Jedi robes; a woman with red-gold hair and the confident stance of a trained killer accompanied him.  Din tensed.  A bodyguard?

Skywalker was all smiles as he walked towards them.  “Hello!” he called.  “Did you find it all right?”

“Yes,” said Din.

“Then welcome,” said Skywalker, still beaming.  “Both of you, welcome.  We’re glad you’re here.”  He gestured to the woman.  “This is my wife, Mara.”

Mara smiled, but she was definitely getting the measure of him in case he tried anything, and Din didn’t need to know her past to know she was someone who would be a difficult opponent.

They were interrupted by a lot of shouting, and suddenly a gaggle of teens was pointing and running up to them.  “They’re here!  They’re here!” they shouted, and Din found himself and the kid surrounded by a quartet of humans and a Wookiee.

“Hi, hi,” said the kid, giggling, and the five eagerly greeted him.  Three of the humans appeared to be siblings, sharing similar features and brown hair; the other was a redhead with one arm cut off above the elbow.

“Some of my students,” said Luke, gesturing to each of them in turn.  “Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin are my sister’s children.  This is Tenel Ka, and this is Lowbacca.”

“Hello,” said the kid, demanding attention again and waving at the visitors.

“We can show him around, Uncle Luke,” said Jacen eagerly.  “Can we?”

“Bwee, I go,” pleaded the kid, but Din wasn’t convinced.  Not in new territory with people he didn’t know like this.  He didn’t want the kid to get worried over a separation.  “He stays with me.”

“They’ve just arrived.  Give them some space,” said Mara.  “Go continue your drills.  I’ll be testing you personally later.”

The students chorused agreement and ran off.  Mara watched them go.  “I’ll keep an eye on the students, keep them out of your hair.”  She leaned over and kissed Skywalker on the cheek.  “Don’t be too long, farmboy.”  She gave Din another measuring look that he didn’t respond to.  He knew a warning when he saw one.

“Mara is very protective of the students here,” said Skywalker.  “This place is very quiet, though.  We have good communications of course, and defenses, but we’re out of the way and isolated enough it’s a good place for young Force-users to train.”  He looked at the child.  “What sort of things do you do, little one?”

The big ears drooped.  “I bweak it.”

Skywalker’s brow furrowed.  “You… broke something?”

“Bwee say no bweak.”  The kid squirmed in Din’s arms.  “I bweaked it.”

“We were in a firefight.  He tried to knock the other ship out of the sky.  He almost breached the hull of my ship.”  Din didn’t like to linger on the memory.  Life as a Mandalorian was full of dangers, but nearly being sucked out into the vacuum of space because his own kid decided to use sorcery on a TIE fighter had been the moment he finally had to stop denying that the kid needed a teacher, a real teacher.  “He needs to learn to control it.  That magic he does, he doesn’t know how to really use it.  It’s just guesswork.  And I…”  Din swallowed, but forced the words out.  “I can’t teach it to him.”

Skywalker smiled.  “He sounds very strong in the Force.”  He must have sensed Din’s confusion the same way the kid could always pick up on what he was feeling, because he added, “The magic, as you called it.  It’s called the Force.”  He shrugged apologetically.  “I tried to look up the word in Mando’a, but I don’t think there is one.”

“I looked up the Jetii too,” said Din.  “I read plenty about you.”  His arms tightened around his child.  “I came to see what you’re about and what you can do.  But this is my son.  I’m not giving him up, I’m not going to let you take him, and if you try -”

Skywalker held up a hand.  “I understand,” he said seriously.  “I am not going to take your child from you.”  He sighed, folding his hands in front of him, and looked out into the jungle.  “You’re not the first I’ve talked to about this,” he said quietly.  “When the Emperor destroyed the Jedi, he did so from every angle.  There had always been rumors of taken children, but with Imperial propaganda, they transformed almost into common knowledge.  I can’t be sure that it never happened, but from what records I recovered, the Jedi only took children whose parents were willing.”  He looked back at Din, his gaze steady.  “I do not take children at this school without their parents’ consent, and theirs.”

The silence between them only lasted until the kid said, “Bwee, I down.”

Skywalker gave a rueful smile as he watched the squirming child.  “Truthfully, I’m not sure how much I can help you, Mandalorian,” he said.  “I’ve never had a student this young.”

“He can do so much already,” said Din.  “He needs to know how to control it, so he doesn’t hurt himself, or anyone else.”

Skywalker nodded.  “Learning to listen to the Force is always the start.  From there, control will come.  First not using it unwillingly, and then being able to let it flow through you.”

Din blinked, but admitted, “That makes no sense to me.  But maybe you can explain it to him.”

“That’s the purpose of this Praxeum.  To learn about the Force.”  Skywalker reached out for the child, playing with the tiny fingers that grasped at his hand.  “Like I said, I’ve never taught someone this young.  But I’m certain we could work on some sort of arrangement.  You’re welcome to stay here with him while he has lessons, or bring him here periodically, or let him stay for some time while you continue with your, uh, line of work.”  Skywalker patted the child’s head.  “Whatever you feel would be best for him.”

“I’m… not sure yet,” said Din.

“That’s understandable,” said Skywalker.  He gestured to the large stone pyramid ahead.  “Can I show you around?”

“Bwee, I go,” said the kid, kicking and trying to get out of Din’s arms again.

“Sure, let’s go,” said Din, and he set the kid down and followed Skywalker onto the Praxeum grounds.

[surprisegents]

star wars !!

thank you!! and please let me know if my ask got eaten btw!

the first character i ever fell in love with: luke skywalker! i had the green lightsaber growing up and everything 

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: i still like cara dune but gina car*no's political views have made that a lot more difficult

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: luke/mara jade? i do dearly love mara jade but i just want them to be best friends. wlw/mlm solidarity 

my ultimate favorite character™: god… probably luke? i have too many opinions about him for it not to be luke

prettiest character: objectively? leia. maybe obi-wan and poe. extremely subjectively? din djarin lmao

my most hated character: kyle ron

my OTP: obi-wan/happiness. st0rmpilot. han/leia

my NOTP: literally anything to do with kyle ron. the fact that there are so many ren/hux fics is one of my many villain origin stories

favorite episode: empire strikes back or mandalorian ep 15

saddest death: i haven’t seen it yet but i do know about satine :( otherwise padmé for sure

favorite season: the original trilogy/mandalorian s2

least favorite season: the sequels :/ it’s the wasted potential for me

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: this used to be boba fett but the mandalorian’s version totally won me over. hmm... i refuse to admit people like kylo so. darth maul

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: lando <3 also talon karrde from the thrawn books

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: FINN!!! and the entire rogue one crew

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: huh, i honestly don’t have an answer to this! it’s not a ship vibe i enjoy

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: obi-wan/satine. f*nnrey. maybe rebelc*ptain & spiritass*ssin

[findswoman]

@jedimordsith ’s Fall Comment Challenge, Yom Kippur Eve edition! :)

Exit Strategy by @threadsketchier (ThreadSketchier). Star Wars Extended Universe. Mara exacts a terrible promise from Luke in order to break both the Emperor’s past hold on her and C’baoth’s future one. I learned of this one from a fanfic author ask—it’s Sketchy’s shortest posted story, but packs a real wallop even so! (Note that this story is viewable only by registered users of AO3.)

Remembrances by @runrundoyourstuff (thesometimeswarrior). Gravity Falls. On the brink of his thirteenth birthday—the beginning of his life as a Jewish adult—Dipper Pines reflects on the ways past memories and half-forgotten rituals bind his family together in the present, on their own terms. A thoughtful exploration of some central Jewish themes in fic form—one of Runrun’s specialties!

Sweet Cider by the Fireside by @fontainebleau22 (Fontainebleau). Magnificent Seven (2016). A widow with an apple orchard offers Billy and Goodnight shelter and gainful work during the apple harvest season. A bittersweet tale of unexpressed, unrequited feelings in a gorgeous fall setting—and FB always does an amazing job of creating an immersive, believable period atmosphere in her stories. I learned about this one from an ask game, too—one of many reasons I enjoy those so much!

We Will Raise Warriors by @sassygirl579 (ZeldaRose579). Star Wars: The Mandalorian. The Child, with his Force abilities, is the first to notice a change in his adoptive mother, Cara, even before Din does. A sweet, fluffy family moment for a clan of... well, read to find out how many! ;)

[elventhief]

Fictober Day 19: Death

A/N:  Okay so I really wanted to write this scene since I have since changed my plans for the later fics so this is 10000000% au where Cara is the high queen of skyrim (its a long story come bug me about it in my ask box if you'd like) but i enjoyed this idea so much i figured i'd put it here!

Cara placed the Jagged Crown on her brow, the weight of it, making what was about to happen seem that much more permanent. She felt Miraak at her side.

“You do not have to do this, I know you do not want to.”

“I know your thoughts on the matter.”

“That does not mean that you have to do this.”

“He tried to kill me, if I let him live, who am I? Certainly not a queen. Not one that can lead her people anyway.”

Miraak gently grabbed her jaw to have her look at him, his eyes worried. “You have a gentle heart, dii lovaas. We all know this, no one can fault you for staying your hand.”

“It’s because I have a gentle heart they don’t take me seriously. It will break my heart, but,” she paused, stepping away from him, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. “This is something that must be done.”

She left the tent without another word, and Miraak followed.

The wind whipped at their robes, the camp silent as Cara, Miraak, and their honor guard walked through the cliffside camp.

A large crowd had gathered, some of the Jarls that had ridden south with them to fight the Thalmor, some lords and knights of the Empire.

Cara’s gaze snapped to that of her mother, her sister, and two brothers.

“Carawen, please I’m begging you, please pardon him.” Her mother implored, fighting the grip of two of the honor guards that were holding her back.

“Please, escort them out of here,” she adverted her gaze from her family. “They don’t need to see this.”

“You traitorous bitch.” Her older brother, Koredil swore, spitting on the ground at her feet.

“King Voriiel will put your head on a pike for this.” Nelaril added.

Cara stared at her brothers, sadness in her eyes. “I know you will never forgive me, but I’m sorry.”

Her sister was crying into their mother’s shoulder, but the guards took them away as she had asked.

Cara brought her gaze to the man kneeling in the center of the circle that had formed.

“Lord Falnar Direnni. You stand accused of attempted murder, and attempted assassination of the High Queen of Skyrim. How do you plead?”

The Altmer in front of her stared at her, venom in his blue-purple eyes. “I only regret that I didn’t throw you to the sea when you were a child, graxifalas hulkynd. You’ve been a disgrace since your mother birthed you.”

“Before I sentence you, father, I would speak for myself for once, not as Queen, but as your daughter.”

“You are no daughter of mine.”

Cara smiled. “You have said that all my life, but my imperfection comes from you, your bloodline. For years I thought, like a stupid child perhaps one day we could reconcile. But now I know that would never be the case.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “You are right, though. You are not my father, not really. I share your blood, but you do not share mine. Auri-El gave me my soul, Mara blessed it. I am the Last Dragonborn, I am of the Dragonblood, and that still doesn’t matter. All that matters is, I became the very thing you didn’t want me to be. And that is enough for me.”

The elf shook his head. “I pray for the day you die, even if it is not by my hand.”

Cara let out a deep breath. “Lord Falnar Direnni, I, Carawen Direnni, Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold, Stormcrown, Laat Dovahkiin, and High Queen of Skyrim, sentence you to die for your crimes against Skyrim and her people.”

“You won’t do it. You’re weak.”

“May the gods have mercy on you, father.”

“MUL QAH DIIV!”

Cara’s spectral dragon form settled over her shoulders, a blanket of black, gold and violet shimmering against her robes. Regal horns formed and fanned out from her brow, great transparent black wings settling on her back.

A realization settled over the old elf’s features as she took several steps towards him. “It wasn’t a lie, you really are-“

“Dovahkiin, geh, bormah.” Her Voice made the sky rumble.

Cara saw the fear in his eyes .“I’m sorry it has to end this way.” she murmured, no one but perhaps Miraak understanding her through the rumble of the sky.

“KRII LUN AUS!”

Her Voice rang out into the night, and Falnar slumped over into the dirt without a sound.

A/N: translations

graxifalas hulkynd- Aldmeri for 'Disgraceful Broken Child'

[who-talks-first]

About Me

{{Occasionally, I stop posting and/or responding to messages. It's nothing personal. I often get overwhelmed by socializing, even moreso since quarantine and my own self-isolation. I will eventually get back. It's also perfectly cool to message me multiple times or rant or whatever. I'm happy to be a sounding board when I have the energy to respond again. I hope everyone's doing alright.}}

{{Pinning this until I get the masterlist completed!}}

Billie, please. But if you know me as Sara, it's okay you still call me that. 💜

My main blog is @your-naked-magic-oh-dear-lord.

36, Aquarius, Rebel, Queer. If I can live through this, I can do anything.

Austin - I have Texas in my heart and soul and will always come back home.

Mostly English and Scottish. I have an ancestor who fought, died, and was buried beside Braveheart, William Wallace.

Bisexual and Nonbinary. Any pronouns are fine, I just usually get she/her.

Very vocal leftist and communist, but I try to keep that to my main blog. I want this one to focus on entertainment. It does occasionally come up topically and the themes appear in my writing.

I suffer from several different physical and mental illnesses, including Major Depression and Diabetes. For all intents and purposes, I'm disabled and often use a cane. I have been institutionalized.

I have a Australian Shepherd named Bear and a rescue cat named Toni Stark. I lost both my cat and my dog last year (2022)and I am stuck in a bad spiral of grief right now. Our household is home to over a dozen cats, two dogs, three horses, three cows, a turtle, one giant goldfish, and whatever needs rescuing on a given day.

I love food and soda. Dining out and going to the movies are my favorite activities. I also enjoy watching my friends play shows at the Live Music Capital of the World. I'm okay at the guitar and terrible at singing but guess which is the thing I love doing more than anything else. I love tattoos, porgs, Daisy Ridley, cute people, punk rock, country music, animals, Steven Universe, stuffed animals, LoZ, rubber ducks, Billie Joe Armstrong, fashion, beauty, decor, the MCU, electric guitar, MLP: FiM, sleeping, Robert Downey jr., drawing, owls, books, Hello Kitty, Brandon Flowers, cussing, magic, and writing.

I've been a SW fan since I was 10 and I've been writing since I was 15 or so. I wore out my copy of Rogue Squadron on N64. I've been a fan of Poe Dameron since "who talks first?" Even though I didn't start writing SW fanfic 'til January, 2018, I have been making up SW stories in my head since I was 12 or so. I had a Mary Sue self-insert OC and everything!

Favorite SW characters in no particular order: Rey, Ahsoka Tano, BB-8, R2-D2, D-0, The Child, Obi-wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Luke Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Jyn Erso, K-2SO, Cara Dune, Cassian Andor, Wedge Antilles, Jag Fel, Jaina Solo, Leia Organa, Mara Jade Skywalker, L3-37, Poe Dameron, Jar-Jar Binks, Lando Calrissian, Din Djarin, and Jessika Pava.

About the Blog

This is my Star Wars/Poe Dameron/Oscar Isaac fan sideblog. I mostly share others' fanfic, but I sometimes write my own stuff and share it here. I'm working on redesigning/organizing my blog, and making a masterlist.

<<More often than not, the fics I reblog are smutty. I do my best to tag them #nsfw, but I do forget. Thankfully, the authors usually indicate this at the top of the fic too. I do have minor followers and y'all are always welcome. However, I do ask that you respect the 18+ warnings on the dirty fics. I ain't your folks and I can't stop you, but I kindly request that you respect me and my blog so I don't have to make it 18+ only. That's not what I want to do; I appreciate y'all being here, and seeing young people enjoying SW like I did as a kid fills my heart with glee.>>

I genuinely try to tag spoilers when new content comes out. Admittedly, I do forget. If there's an older piece of media you're just discovering and would like me tagging spoilers for it, I would be happy to; just send me an ask!

I cannot promise this is a wank-/discourse-free blog. I'm often criticizing Disney here, but I also will go off about problems in fandom and when a particular group is specifically harmful. This is a very pro-John Boyega blog. I often rage about the destruction of our characters of color (I think the spicerunner arc is one of the worst things done to a character in the history of entertainment) and fully support John, Oscar Isaac, and Tran Loan (and all/any other actor/crewmembers of color who are mistreated). If you want the negativity tagged, you have only to ask. I generally don't shit on particular types of fans that I don't necessarily agree with, ie. Obikin shippers, and they're welcome here. I do speak out about things that make me uncomfortable, whether it be on a personal or corporate level. Besides these tough subjects, most of my posts are fun and light. Fandom is supposed to be fun and I encourage that. If you're not enjoying your fandom, you do not have to stay there! You can enjoy a piece of media without surrounding yourself with toxic fans!

My fandoms are bleeding together a bit. There's often Triple Frontier posts, particularly Pope x Reader fics, occasionally poly/multi as well. I sometimes reblog Pedro stuff and the rare Ezra fic. Don't @ me. Regrettably, at some point, I will probably be posting Dork Lito Bofades content. Believe me, I ain't happy about it.

We're anti-Reylo here, but as long as the wank gets left at the door, everyone is welcome. Just know there's a lot of memes, but I generally don't mean them in bad faith. I also ridicule Renjamin to within an inch of his life.

My tags are #Just Billie for my personal posts; #Billie's Opinion for my SW discourse; #Tainted Fanfic Writer for my SW fanfic; #Not My Fic for fanfic reblogged from others. I try to tag posts regarding specific movies and shows like this: #tpm, #aotc, #rots, #rogue one, #solo, #anh, #esb, #rotj, #tfa, #tlj, #the mandalorian*, and #tros (pre-2020 it's #ep ix speculation). I also tag #gif, #art, #sw bts, #incorrect sw, #aesthetics, #moodboards, #Space Mom, #Poe Dameron Comic, #StormPilot, #JediStormPilot, #FinnRey, #SpicePilot (my joke ship name for Poe and Zorii), #droids, #porgs, #spacecraft, character names, actor names, and common triggers. Villain names usually include their title rather than given name such as #general hux. I'm now reading a lot of Mandalorian fic, so I tag #the Mandalorian (for both the character and the show) #the child for baby Yoda; other characters follow the regular tagging conventions. For TF, I tag #santiago garcia and #frankie morales. If you would like something tagged, even if it's just a character name I don't usually tag or a certain discourse, please inbox me. No worries! *apparently, I've been misspelling "Mandalorian" wrong for 6 months because of the nickname "Mando", so it's going to take me a while to get the tag corrected, so please bear with me.

[luxcandy]

Oq mais me encanta nas fics lukemara é q a Mara sempre é representada como uma mulher q é racional sem ser petulante ou irritante. E q se ela e o Luke estão tendo uma discussão, eles sempre tentam entender o lado do outro com maturidade e sutilmente vai se tornando em reconciliação(eu considero uma escrita preguiçosa se a pessoa termina uma discussão com eles se beijando e já fodendo e tudo já está ✨ magicamente✨ bem).

Tantas vezes eu leio uma fic q só a personagem feminina entende o lado do cara e eles já começam a se pegar e se torna algo tão desconfortável.

Esse é algo q me deixa desapontada e irritada com as fics q normalizam um relacionamento tóxico q o cara vai e faz o q quiser e não vai ser novidade q ela vai perdoar. Tem escritoras que são tão habilidosas em escrever todo um universo, porém sempre criam uma personagem feminina q aceita e perdoa tudo.

Enfim, fodam-se todxs

[caramarafics]

We're getting there... 😊😊😊

[caramara3]

Be on the lookout for a special post Heart of Glass related as we welcome in the new year!!

Also I will starting up my tag list shortly for HG so if you would like to be tagged, feel free to drop me a comment below! Happy New Year!!

[caramarafics]

Reckless (Seth Rollins)

Seth Rollins x OC Maya Grey One Shot 

Warnings: just sad.

A/N: Soooo.... this has been in my drafts for awhile now and after some positive motivation from @royallyprincesslilly​ @thedeboniardevistation​ and @bigstrongblackheart​ I’ve just decided to post it. 

Hope you like it. 

AUGUST 23, 2015 11:27 PM

MANHATTAN, NY

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice came over the speaker to announce:

“You have arrived at the twenty-third floor.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, I watch as my aunt Isobel steps off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator towards me. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Come on cariña,” she whispers.

I nod my head and, with a heavy sigh and a push off the safety bar, I throw the thick strap of my Diva’s Championship over one shoulder and my gym over the other. I step off the elevator and into the waiting arms of my aunt and we begin our walk down the hall. 

Isobel puts one hand on the swell of my back while the other pulls her suitcase. My gaze fell to the floor as we walked, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern while she scanned the placards on the wall looking for our room. Every so often I could feel her eyes practically burning a hole into me before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards. 

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the Barclay Center over an hour ago I had barely said a single word. Not to her, to Roman, no one. I was catatonic and numb. 

But who could blame me? After what just happened, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in my shoes.

As we made our way down the hall, I could feel my phone consistent buzzing through the thin fabric of Roman’s hoodie he had lent me back in Brooklyn. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

Call me crazy, but it almost felt like with every step I took, my phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Step, step, step.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Normally I would have answered it by now. But instead, I choose to ignore whoever it was and kept on. 

We reached the very end of the hall and finally stopped in front of a door marked 1127. From the corner of my eye, Isobel pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slide it into the automated lock. A few short whirring, buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher me into the room. She follows right behind me, but not before grabbing the “Do Not Disturb” sign from behind the door and hooks it on the handle outside the room.

The door shuts and Isobel sees a small touchscreen wall panel placed by the door. She presses the button marked Lights and the overhead lights come on, revealing the room to us.

Placing my title belt on the dresser, I look around at what would be my new home for the next two nights. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room I’d stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard. 

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows I have ever seen in my life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol. 

The only thing that did make the room stand out from all the others, however, was the incredible view. A floor-to-ceiling window panel was centered on the main wall of the room and, because of our floor being leveled with the New York skyline, displayed a near perfect image of downtown Manhattan. There was even a clear view of the Empire State building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

Moving over towards the beds I toss my gym bag onto the one closest to the window and sit at the foot of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city I couldn’t help but think about how different my life was less than 24 hours ago. I was staying in Brooklyn with the rest of the WWE, getting ready for SummerSlam. I was in this beautiful hotel suite that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge with the love of my life, my fiancé. My bridesmaids and I had had our final fittings for our dresses, I was getting all the final details ready for my October wedding…

But that was all before a few hours ago.

Before everything had gone to complete and utter shit.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? I thought to myself. 

But before I could think of some sort of explanation, the sound of boots clanking across the hardwood floor followed by the thud of Isobel’s purse landing on top of the dresser next to my title.

“Well,” she says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and placing my chin on top, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” I manage to mumble out.

“Fine?” she snorts, “Maya, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

I hear movement from behind me and see a light flick on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Maya you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Cariña the floors are heated!!”

But I don’t move. I don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, I just sit there in silence, holding myself as I gaze out into the city and its nightlife. 

I observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while my mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape from my eyes as my subconscious began to torture me with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. My brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years of our life together.

It was desperate to find any little detail that I may have missed that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared me for what would eventually happen.

But I find nothing.

No hints, no little clues. 

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Maya don’t be alarmed, but just two months before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé half naked with another woman.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t feel the bed dip or that Isobel was now sitting right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand found its way into my hair, softly playing with it and twirling the ends around her fingers. Another arm wrapped itself around my stomach to embrace me. My body quickly relaxes and I lean into her embrace, my head resting just above her chin. The hand that was in my hair moves to join the one around my stomach and I feel Isobel’s lips plant a soft, motherly kiss at the base of my temple as she gently rocked me.

I knew just how much it pained Isobel to see me like this; a deflated, catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly and vivacious niece. I’d barely said less than two sentences to her or to anyone else since we left the Barclays, just a few grunts here and there whenever somebody asked me anything. She probably had dozens of questions she wanted to ask right now; ‘are we canceling the wedding, where are you gonna stay, who does she need to call, what I actually wanted to do now,’ things of that nature. 

But rather than bombard me with things that even I had no earthly clue how to answer, she said nothing and just held me.

Though she was my aunt and nearly seven years older than me, I often viewed her as the big sister I never had and the mother figure I had so desperately yearned for. She was my protector from bullies like Angela Ferrell in sixth grade after I had come home crying one too many times for her liking. Isobel pushed Angela face-first into the mud and threatened to shave her bald if she ever messed with me again.

When I reached the preteen stage and my body began to develop, she was the one who explained to me the so-called ‘joys’ of becoming a woman and who took me to the pharmacy to buy my first box of pads. She also, in a very detailed description, broke down the basics of sex and practically scarred me for life. 

After Bryan Anderson gave me my first kiss in fifth grade, she was the best friend that I ran to her to spill all the juicy details. And when I was a junior and my first ever boyfriend Joaquin broke my heart for some varsity cheerleader, she picked me up and helped put the pieces back together with junk food and my favorite horror movies… only after we went and egged Joaquin’s truck. 

Whether it was something as simple as helping me with my calculus homework, or something big as catching a red-eye flight from London to Houston just to watch me compete in my very last high school gymnastics invitational, there was never a moment in my life that I couldn’t rely on her to be there for me whenever I needed her the most.

And tonight, tonight was one of those moments when I definitely needed her.

We stayed like this in comfortable silence for what seemed like hours, just staring out into the night as she held me close to her. I feel her chin fall gently against my shoulder and her breath tickles at the side of my neck for a few minutes before she finally speaks.

“You feel like talking about it?” her voice just above a whisper.

I say nothing but shake my head.

Her lips press themselves gently against my cheek, hugging me a bit tighter as she does. “Ok, that’s fine. We don’t gotta talk about it tonight.” 

“But,” she pauses, “What we should do right now is get some food. Cause I don’t know about you, but I am starving.” 

Once again, I am silent. Intentionally I knew what she was trying to do. First, she would pump me with some of my favorite foods, maybe even some top shelf liquor, then after a few of the cheesiest and goriest slasher films she would happen to find on demand and I appeared to be in a neutral state, she would lay on the questions. It’s been her routine since I was 13 and about 80 percent of the time it usually worked. Sadly though, It’s unlikely that this particular problem could be easily fixed with takeout and Freddy Krueger.

She was right though. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning and just the mention of food made my stomach growl. 

“Tell you what... why don’t I order us some food, and while I do that you can take a shower and get cleaned up. ¿Suena bien?”

I thought it over for a little before eventually nodding my head in agreement.

“What do you wanna do; Chinese takeout, get a couple pizzas…?”

I look up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Can we get both?”

A small laugh escapes her mouth, and she squeezes me again. “We can absolutely do both. I’ll even throw in a couple of those brownie sundaes I saw in that menu. While you shower, I’ll call the boys and see where they are with your stuff.”

I nod once more and with one final squeeze and forehead kiss from her, I remove myself from her embrace and slide off the bed. She follows and moves towards a conveniently placed touch screen panel near the window. I watch her press a button on the panel and, in an instant, large panels start to descend over the window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding Manhattan away for the rest of the night. 

I grab my gym bag from off the bed and make my way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lock it. Just as she said earlier, this truly was an incredible bathroom. A lot nicer than some I had had before. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors there were marble countertops, super soft Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary bathrobes with matching slippers, full-size bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & to top it all off, a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and about six square wall panels placed on both the front and back walls. 

Setting the bag next to the sink I make my way over to the shower. On the outside wall was yet another touch screen panel solely for controlling the shower. I look it over for a few moments before finding an app that says ‘RAIN’ and press it. Instantly, the overhead panels come alive and water begins to rain down on the inside. I mess around with a few more buttons, adjusting the water temperature and whatnot, before finally moving away so that the water could warm up.

Back at the sink, I started to open my gym bag when I felt my phone once again start the incessant vibrating like before. But this time instead of ignoring it, I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and look at the screen.

The first thing I see is his profile picture followed by his name. It was one of my favorites of us together, taken almost a year ago at a mutual friend's Halloween party. We were dressed up as Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, complete with three ‘dragons’ perched on my shoulders. I was looking at the camera but his eyes were fixed solely on me, a smile stretched across his face as he looked.   

I watch the call stop and my home screen reappear with the notification bar.

Over a dozen missed calls and voicemails. 

With a sigh I unlock my phone and scroll through the list of missed calls, seeing one name in particular more often than others.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Renee.

Roman.

Seth.

Brie.

Nikki.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Renee.

Nikki.

Seth.

Roman.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Seth.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone onto the counter, not caring where it landed or if it had smashed. I open my gym bag and go to pull out the set of post-match clothes I always kept handy, so I could change quickly out of my sweaty gear after any of my matches. But when I went to pull them out… nothing. Only my workout clothes from earlier, an extra set of bra and panties, deodorant, and sneakers.

Shit.

I look down at my body, currently covered in the giant hoodie.

Shit, shit, shit.

My suitcase, my clothes, my laptop… all of that is currently on its way from Brooklyn. 

I forgot to pack my spare change of clothes. 

And as if things couldn’t get any better... I’m still in my ring gear from my match earlier. 

My eyes rolled to the back of my hand and my hand runs over my face, an annoyed chuckle escaping as I relish in my own stupidity. 

Great. I thought. Just great. Good job there Maya.

Not wasting any more time, I throw off the hoodie and angrily start to undress. Starting from the bottom, I unlace my wrestling boots and set them next to the toilet. I remove my sweatpants and shimmy my way out of the custom wrestling shorts Isobel had made specifically for tonight. The matching top was next to come off and once over my head I let it fall to the floor next to my shorts, leaving me in just my sports bra and underwear. 

The gear for tonight was all-white with intricate gold lines patterned along the sides, knees, and chest with four symbols faintly embroidered in white on each side; one was mine, the other Roman’s, then Dean’s, and finally… his.  

For months, he’d been throwing the idea around of switching up his ring gear and trying out new colors aside from his usual black attire. And once Isobel had sketched up a white and gold version of his gear, he was beyond ecstatic to showcase it for his Title for Title Match at SummerSlam. 

And when she had enough fabric left over from doing his gear she made a second set just for me. 

“It’s kind of like your wedding dress,” she said to me. “Just in gear form. Hey, if you want I’ll even attach a veil to your butt and it can be your train.”

I quickly shake the memory from my head and free myself of what was left of my clothing. Grabbing two of the white bath towels placed underneath the sink, I set one on the back of the toilet and hanging the other on the hook placed next to the shower. I grab a bottle of complimentary body wash I open the shower door, and finally step inside.

I stand directly underneath, letting the warm water hit my skin and cascade around me and down my body. The splashing against the tile echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out my thoughts as they continued to torture me. Every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ we had ever said played on an endless loop in my head as I tried to pinpoint the moment that everything changed.

Meeting for the first time at that college bar back in NXT. That first kiss backstage in NXT that caught us both off-guard. The night he had told me for the first time that he loved me, which was followed up by the night we first made love.    

I try to shake these thoughts from my mind, but it won’t work. No matter what I try to think about, no matter what other happy memory that doesn’t involve him, those memories are still all that play. A few stray tears push their way out but I quickly wipe them away.

No, I thought. You are not going to do this Maya. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

I reach over to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...    

And that’s when I saw it. The tan line on my finger, now completely visible on my left hand that just a few hours ago bore my beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring. 

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around in his suitcase for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come. 

Until the night of WrestleMania, just mere seconds after winning his WWE World Heavyweight Championship, he would look over to Joey Mercury and trade him his newly won title for a small black box. He would get down on one knee and take my hand in his. And then, in front of Vince McMahon and everyone else currently occupying the Guerilla, would ask me to spend the rest of my life with him. 

Now that hand was bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back to him after what had happened.

And just like that, my world came crumbling down. That false sense of reality I had created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and smacked me dead in the face.

Seth, my first love, the man I was set to marry in less than two months… had cheated on me. And I had caught him tonight. 

Three years of my life, our life together, all gone in a flash. Our plans for the future, children, traveling the world… were all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true.  

My legs carried me backward until my back hit the wall of the shower and I slid down. A wave of nausea swirls all around my empty stomach and my chest tightened like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob that left my mouth was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was just water from the showerhead. 

My body sank more and more into the ground that before I knew it I had curled myself into a ball, crying into my chest as the water turned from warm to cold. 

But I didn’t care. My head swam with half-formed regrets. My heart felt as if my blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat. 

I was emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now enveloped me in swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.  

END.   

[caramarafics]

Time for another writing session... 😁😁😁

[caramarafics]

Be on the lookout tomorrow for a little somethin somethin...

A little birthday gift from me to you 🥳🥳

[caramara3]

If anyone needs me, I’ll be jamming Jhene Aiko on a loop while working on Heart on Glass

So... please don’t need me. At least for a few hours.