#Winta

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

🎶 hold you close till the morning light / in the morning watch the new days rise / we’ll do whatever just to stay alive 🎶

Stay Alive — José González

I have a particular weakness for modern au’s where Din and Omera live a very sweet life with their cute little blended family, alright?

(alternate colouring, close-ups, and cleaned-up sketch all tucked away, neat and tidy, under the cut)

Yeah, Din’s apron ain’t doing squat, but I don’t have the heart to cover up a Henley shirt

[azertyrobaz]

Who knows how to shoot?

[rainbowsprinkledpirate]

Sincerely, Yours 💌

AN: Okay so here's the thing. I'm a sucker for soulmate au ideas. I always have been. So, I decided to try writing one myself. Check out more soulmate au ideas from @ausforsoulmates (p.s. this is where I got the soulmate au from, the Now or Never AU).

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Summary: You received your soulmate letter over 20 years ago. The vaugeness of it kept you on a wild goose chase around the galaxy for years. After so many failed leads you return home. Only to find a small green child being watched by a Mandalorian.

"It's you." You whisper the moment you see the child.

Child of green shows he's not mean.

A line from the piece of paper that sat closest to your heart.

Honestly, the first time you had read over the paper, you grimaced.

Vaguely written was an understatement when it came to your soulmate letter. The thing looked as if it had attempted to make itself rhyme alongside being vague. And only that single line stood out to you the most.

Well, it had at one point. Until you realized the galaxy had a multitude of green children.

The part you never focused on was the shows he's not mean one. Which you most likely should have until now.

But it didn't matter anymore because you understood.

A Mandalorian, for Maker's sake, stood close to the child. One of the fiercest known warriors in the galaxy.

Shows he's not mean.

Right...

He was listening to a woman you faintly recognize, yet you couldn't put a name to her face. She looked as fierce as the Mandalorian even without the beskar armor.

They both seemed relaxed for the most part.

Something that was bound to change now that you were there.

"Uncle, you're back!" The bright cry of Winta tore you from your thoughts as the little girl jumped into your arms. Warmth flooded your chest when she nuzzles into your shoulder. It felt like ages since you had last seen your niece.

"Ah, starflower. Look how much you've grown."

Pride was an understatement when you looked at her. She was growing into those rich eyes of hers and the too-big ears.

A chuckle rumbles from your chest as you ruffle her hair.

"Uncle, look, look! A nice man saved the village. And look at the monster he helped us beat." She motions towards the Mandalorian before bouncing in your arms and pointing at the AT-ST.

It was the soft tug at your pants that drags your attention down from trying to follow Winta's wild gestures.

The small green child peers up at you. His tiny three-clawed hands grasp your right leg. The trust he held in his deep galaxy eyes made your heart ache.

So, it begins. You couldn't help thinking as you hum.

"Well, what do we have here?" You knelt down by the child as Winta giggles at the movement. "Who is this little tooka kit?"

Winta tugs on your sleeve, saying, "It's the nice man's son. Isn't he cute?" She continues babbling about the child as your sister approached.

Omera was as beautiful as you remember her being. Elegant, yet simple as always.

It seems the ache of her husband's death still haunted her. You could tell from the relief that swam in her eyes at seeing you. A relief that only one who experienced tremendous loss could have.

"You're home." You settle Winta on the ground next to the child before straightening up.

It didn't take long for Omera to step forward to wrap her arms tightly around you, crushing you in her embrace. For such a delicate-looking woman, she was unbelievably strong.

"Thank the stars..." She murmurs before relaxing her hold on you. "So much has changed since you left."

Your eyes flick to the Mandalorian as he starts making his way over.

"I see," You raise a hand in greeting when the warrior got close enough. "You have my thanks, Warrior. Winta told me you helped our village."

The Mandalorian tips his helmet down enough for you to see before Omera hums, "Come, sit. I'm sure you're tired. And there's much to tell you."

You made your way over to a small bonfire, letting the familiar smells of your homeworld soothe you.

The rich fish-like scent from the krill ponds wasn't particularly one you missed, but the earthy mesh of the forest surrounding the small village was. Especially the hint of native flowers.

Once you settle down, Omera began to explain the events of how the Mandalorian and Cara Dune trained the people enough to fight back. Their plan went surprisingly well for what little time they had to initiate it.

"It seems what you taught me finally came in handy." Omera's tone was warm as she smiles sweetly.

The Mandalorian, who sat across from the both of you with the child sitting between his boots, cocks his head.

"You taught her how to handle a blaster?" His timbre reachs you even through the vocoder. The smoothness of it sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I did. It was something I picked up along the way with my travels. Searches, really." For him.

But you wouldn't admit that out loud.

"I'm sure you know how inhospitable the outer rim planets are, Warrior." A sad smile spreads across your lips when you meet his T visor. "I had to learn how to fight to survive."

You weren't the best at fighting or shooting, really. If the scars you bore were anything to go off of. You knew you had a lot to learn about fighting and shooting. And you hope your soulmate would teach you, when the time came.

Something about how his T visor bore into you urges you to speak more. You felt as if he deserved to know he wasn't alone in these dangerous travels.

"But I am glad at least." The Mandalorian leans forward a bit, almost as if he were curious to hear what you had to say. "Learning how to fight seems to have helped my sister protect the village alongside help from you and Ms. Dune."

Cara laughs a deep boisterous laugh as she relaxes against one of the logs further to your right.

"Please, just Cara is fine." You send her a smile and nod before looking back at the child who had managed to make his way towards you.

Just as he reached your boots you see a small red dot appear on his back.

It was small enough not to go noticed by many. But you had seen it enough times to know what it was by now.

You move faster than you ever have in your life to grab the child and twist to the side as a loud bang echoes through the once silent forest. Cara takes off in the direction the shot came from as the Mandalorian moves to shield your body with his own.

Your heart thunders in your ears as you stare down at the child. Shaky gasps leave you when his wide eyes peer back up at you and he cooes.

You scan him for injuries, thinking that maybe he still got hurt and you didn't move fast enough. Yet when you see that he is fine, you heave a sigh. The kid was more amused by the sudden roll than anything.

Warm hands tug you up as the Mandalorian takes the child from you. Giving him a good look over himself before turning his attention to you.

"You're hurt," The Mandalorian sets the child back down before kneeling beside you. "Let me see."

He firmly yet gently grips you right shoulder as you start to notice the white hot agony in your left. A yelp of pain escapes when the Mandalorian grazes his gloved finger over the blaster burn. He retracts his hand immediately murmuring an apology.

Omera is by your other side tightly gripping your hand as she weakly asks if you're alright. You can see her starting to panic.

Her husband had died due to a blaster shot. If she were to loose you too, it would definitely break her heart and Winta's.

"I'm fine sister," You squeeze her hand back gently. "This is not the worst wound I've had before."

The Mandalorian had started moving as you reassured Omera. He held the child lightly in one arm as he stalked to the small barn your sister had set him up in. You watch him go feeling a dull ache appear in your chest.

Focusing back on Omera you see how she seems to put the pieces together. Her earlier panic having faded. Eyes widening a fraction she looks up at you.

"He's your soulmate." The moment the words are spoken to the still air you close your eyes. The truth settles on your shoulders like a warm blanket on a cold night. Soothing the ache and numbing the pain in your shoulder a tad.

You say nothing to Omera as the Mandalorian reappears carrying a small box in his hands. He kneels next to you again and rifles through the box pulling out a bacta spray. Meeting his T visor you hum.

"Is the child okay?" He nods as Omera stands up stating she was going to get you a new shirt. Since the shot burned a hole in the shirt you currently wore.

Cara appears from the woods a frown hardening her features as she approaches you and the Mandalorian.

Unease trickles down your spine as she mutters, "It looks like it's time for you to go, Mando." She holds up a crushed tracker before tossing it next to his knee.

You glance at it before looking over to the barn the child was in. He was in danger here. Because if one bounty hunter knew he was here then many others did as well.

"Do you have a ship?" The Mandalorian turns to look at you just as you're tugging off your shirt to have better access to your shoulder. Heat crawls up your neck as you ball the shirt in your hands.

You had at one point had a ship, but sold it due to not having enough credits for fuel to make it back home. You ended up bumming a ride from a small freighter just to return to Sorgan.

When you shake your head the Mandalorian moves back to clean your wound and spray bacta on it.

Little did you know you earned his trust quite quickly. There was something about you protecting the kid even when you just met and the burning of his own soulmate letter near his heart that made him ask.

"Well, how do you feel about coming with me? I can help you find what you're looking for. It's the least I can do since you saved my Foundling."

The moment he asked that single question in his low baritone voice your fate was sealed. Because he had already helped you find what you were looking for.

Him.

"I'd be honored, Warrior."

Closer than what's been told. Heart of gold buried beneath cold. Child of green shows he's not mean. Austerely endures sincerely, yours

AN: I know it's pretty bad but I thought some of it made sense. 🤷 I'm not good at rhyming.

Star Wars Masterlist

[oh-n0-here-we-g0-again]

Mandalorian Spoilers for the Season 3 finale

Soooo now that Din is settling in, can we maybeeee expect a certain someone to pop up??? Maybe a mom figure for Grogu and a sister? Ehhh? *winks and elbows*

[kingsdodecahedron]

rebel friends

[sheena-is-a-punk-rocker]

Life With You: A Series of Mandomera Prompt Ficlets pt 8

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! IT’S HERE FINALLY!!!!! 

Prompt was Omera falling asleep on Din’s shoulder and was sent in by @agentscamander-romanoff like two whole ass years ago. Sorry it took so long but it’s finally here.

Din wakes up slowly—later than he usually does. He rolls over and frowns when he realizes there's nobody beside him, reaching out and only feeling warm sheets. It's extremely rare for Omera to wake up before him.

He sighs and opens his eyes finally, sitting up with some effort. Despite sleeping for over twelve hours he's still exhausted. Long stretches in hyperspace always throw him off. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and drags a hand down his face. He needs to shave.

Now that he's more awake he realizes the sound he's hearing is someone singing. He makes his way out of the room to investigate.

Winta is sitting at the kitchen table, humming happily to herself, and next to her is a giant pile of flowers—the blue and white ones that grow around the ponds. The baby is sitting on the table, trying to copy what his big sister is doing, which, Din realizes, is making flower crowns. He watches, amused, as Grogu grumbles and gives up—shoving the flowers into his mouth instead.

Winta giggles and pulls the plants out of Grogu's mouth. “You can't eat them, silly!” she informs her brother. Then she spots Din and says, “Hi dad!”

He smiles and comes up behind her at the table. “What's all this?” he asks, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, and stroking one of the kid's big green ears.

“They're for the wedding!” Winta explains.

Din's over-tired brain processes that information. Oh right. The wedding. He vaguely recalls Winta chattering his ear off about the two villagers who are getting married tonight. The details of that conversation are a little fuzzy—Din had promptly passed out shortly after.

“Where's your mother?” he asks.

“In the common house. She said to come find her once you woke up.”

He drops another kiss to her and Grogu's heads before moving back to the bedroom to put his armor on.

He finds Omera in the common house, preparing a feast with the other women in the village. He comes up beside her and rests his hand on her lower back. Taking a break from kneading dough, she turns to him with a wide grin. “Welcome back!”

He nudges her temple with his helmet and she leans into the contact. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks—always needing to feel useful.

“Yes,” she says, with a kiss to the cheek of his helmet. “Get some rest.”

He starts to protest but she cuts him off. “I know you're exhausted. Get some more sleep. I'll wake you up for the wedding.”

Before he leaves she introduces him to the bride—a twi'lek woman named Corvi who arrived at the village shortly after he permanently settled there. He tips his head in greeting and congratulates her on her marriage.

When he gets back to their hut he ends up passing out for another six hours.

-------------------------

The wedding ceremony is beautiful and Din finds himself reflecting on his own wedding as he watches the festivities from the sidelines. It's late, and the children have long since gone to bed, but the adults have only gotten rowdier. He sees Corvi dancing with her new husband—a human man named Fenn that Din has met only in passing. He's not actually home all that often, after all.

He spies Omera dancing and twirling in the firelight and smiles. He could—and has—watch her for hours. She sees him staring and beams at him—making her way through the crowd to say hi.

He wraps his arms around her and she leans into him—resting her hands on his chestplate.

“Dance with me?” she asks playfully—knowing full well what his answer will be.

When he doesn't respond, she laughs and pulls away, tugging on his hand—beckoning him to follow her.

She leads him to the barn and then turns around to face him. She grabs his other hand and asks again, “Now dance with me?”

“I... don't know how,” he admits sheepishly. “It's not exactly a big part of Mandalorian culture.”

“I can teach you,” she offers.

He does try his best to copy her movements but he feels clumsy and awkward in all his armor. He eventually gives up but that doesn't stop Omera. She dances happily by herself as one song bleeds into another.

He at least feels confident enough to twirl her and when she's back in his arms he pulls her close so her back is to his front. He hears her gasp at the feel of the cool beskar against her back. Leaning down, he nuzzles his helmet in the crook of her neck.

Her breathing hitches and he knows that they're both suddenly aware that they haven't seen each other in over a week.

He's not sure who moves first but suddenly his helmet is being ripped off and dropped to the floor. Their lips crash together and he hoists her off her feet. Her legs wrap around his waist and he starts walking them towards the table in the corner. He deposits her on the table and fumbles to rip his gloves off so he can touch her bare skin. Her fingers rake through his hair as his lips trail down her throat. She moans softly as he nips at her pulse point.

Her hands claw at his belt and she gasps in his ear, “Fuck me, Din!”

He drags her to the edge of the table and soon the barn is filled with the sound of their moans—both too wound up to care who might be listening.

-----------------------------------------

Once their breathing is under control again, they just bask in the moonlight filtering in from the open window—content to just be back in each other's arms.

“I missed you,” Omera says, nuzzling her nose against his chestplate.

“Missed you too,” he mumbles, with a kiss to her hair.

Nothing else exists outside their little bubble—the party outside rages on but neither one of them is keen to rejoin it.

The music suddenly shifts to something slower and softer, and Omera pulls him closer as she hums along. His hand on her back stills as he gets an idea.

“Dance with me?” he asks.

She looks up at him and replies, teasingly, “I thought you 'don't dance'.”

He lets out a huff of amusement. “I think I can handle slow dancing. I do owe you a wedding dance, after all.”

He pulls back and holds out a hand to help her down from the table and leads her towards the patch of moonlight visible from the window. Her hands snake around his neck and he slides his around her waist—pulling her close.

They sway back and forth for several songs before the music picks back up again. Omera doesn't lift her head from his shoulder though. That's when he realizes that she's fallen asleep on him.

He smiles and presses a soft kiss to her temple. He hates to disturb her but he knows there's no way his beskar pauldron makes a good pillow. He nudges her awake gently. “C'mon, time for bed.”

“But I'm comfy,” she whines.

He snorts. “No you're not. Now come on, I'm sure you'd much rather be sleeping in our bed.”

“You make a good pillow,” she insists.

He chuckles and readjusts so he can, first, scoop his helmet up off the floor and put it back on, and then so he can get an arm underneath her knees—hoisting her up bridal style. She nuzzles her face in his cloak as he carries her back to their hut.

She's asleep again by the time they get there and this time he can't bring himself to wake her.

He lays her down gently on the bed and gets to work getting her undressed and into her sleep attire. His next step is taking off all his beskar without too much noise—easier said than done.

She reaches out to him sleepily when he crawls into bed and he pulls her into his arms and holds her close.

Before Omera, and the kids—before finding his little clan of four, his aliit, Din didn't ever believe he could be this happy, this at peace. He didn't think he would ever feel so at home anywhere.

The warm weight of his wife against him lulls Din to sleep within minutes—it feels good to be home.

[mandomera-week-2022]

Tomorrow!

This is it, the time has come! Mandomera Week 2022 is finally here, we can’t wait to discover what you will come up with (or already came up with if you’ve started already).

Please find the prompts here and some quick rules below, and feel free to read further on for more details.

Quick rules: Please use the hashtag #mandomeraweek2022 when you post your fanfic, art, gifset, drabble, playlist, chapter, etc. here on tumblr. There is one prompt per day of the week (7 prompts + 3 alternate prompts). You can either choose one from the General Prompts list or the NSFW Prompts list. You can even choose both! For fanfics, you can also post your writing on our ao3 collection (but no pressure!). Please remember to tag your creations properly for NSFW.

Have fun, and feel free to reach out to us here or on Discord (just drop us a line if you want access!) if you have any questions.

*You don’t have to stick to the order of the prompts if you don’t feel like it.

*You can do 1, 3, 7, 14 prompts, ALL THE PROMPTS, go wild, just have fun.

*You can still post prompt after December 4, just remember to use the hashtag #mandomeraweek2022 so that we can still reblog your creations!

*You can explore any subject but please try to stick to the two main characters, Din Djarin and Omera. You can definitely add more characters too, the more the merrier!

*For darker/nsfw themes, please tag your works properly here and on ao3 if you decide to post there.

*There is no word limit, drabbles are as welcomes as 100k multi-chaptered fics.

*Similarly, you can post sketches for art.

*We haven’t answered your question? Please reach out! :)

[darlin-djarin]

how does he rven find out grogu is a girl????

there are two ideas i like- either din has to clean grogu up for the first time and he looks down and he’s like “OH SHIT YOU’RE A GIRL-” or another scenario where he’s let grogu out to play with some kids (maybe on sorgan) and he notices grogu is playing with winta and they’re playing some girlish dress up game, and winta’s dressed grogu all up and pretty and grogu’s so excited and clapping and omera’s like “oh she’s so cute” and din’s like “what.” and he comes to the slow realization that maybe grogu isn’t a boy after all.

i personally like the second scenario better but the first one has a lot of opportunity for comedy. idk much about yoda’s species, so telling grogu’s sex just by looking might not be really an option (esp for the transfemme grogu headcanon contradicting the first option). second scenario feels really cute, with din’s slow realization, but either one is good anyway 🫶

[ooops-i-arted]

101 yodes, "I volunteer myself to go last."

Din got his friends loaded into the Razor Crest.  They protested, of course, but as soon as he said his elder sons had specifically requested them over on Yavin 4 where Luke had taken Yod’ika and his brothers 1-20 to train in the ways of the Force, everyone had agreed.

The ship was far more cramped than Din liked, but he had Winta in the cockpit and was showing her how to fly the ship, Omera smiling proudly at her daughter the whole while, so he was spared Greef and Boba arguing about running a planet and trying to one-up each other as the best Cool Uncle Figure while Peli and Kuiil tried to tear his ship apart mid-flight in the name of upgrades and Cara and Fennec pulled out bigger and bigger guns to compare, and on top of all of it IG-11 tried to prepare a meal while whining about the complete lack of kitchen facilities.  He couldn’t even imagine if he’d brought Boga Jr. along, but she’d stayed behind along with the group of villagers who had volunteered to take care of the little ones during the trip.  Landing the ship and unloading was a relief even when the moon’s humidity immediately soaked his jumpsuit.

They made it to the temple nearby, where Luke was waiting with his gaggle of students.  Din narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious.  They were bouncing in that excited way they did when they were up to something.

“There’s my little ones!” Greef said cheerfully, moving to scoop up an armful, but Luke raised a hand to stop him.  “The Yod’ike wish to speak to you first.”

“What is it, ad’ike?” Boba rumbled as the rest of the best babysitting brigade assembled before twenty-one of their charges.

Yod’ika toddled out in a self-important way that made Din glad his grin was hidden behind his helmet.  “On lots of planets there is a day for mommies, and a day for daddies, and a day for nonbinary parents.  There are days for teachers, and doctors, and kings and queens.  But we couldn’t find a day for babysitters.  So we made one.  Today is Babysitters’ Day.”

The entire crew was melting; even stone-faced Fennec had a crack in her facade.  Din’s smile under his helmet was huge.  Sometimes with all the sibling infighting he worried about what they were learning, but he was glad to see his eldest sons show such kindness and appreciation.

“So we made you a surprise!” they all chorused in unison, and as one they used the Force to lift away a curtain behind them and reveal a table set with plates, spoons, and a large vat of the most foul-smelling, bubbling, green-grey, mysteriously lumpy stew Din had ever seen.

“We made it for you!” the Yod’ike said, all beaming with pride and smiles.  “There’s enough for everyone!”

Dead silence filled the glade.

“Who wants to eat first?” Yod’ika 3 asked brightly.

Din glanced at his friends.  His friends glanced at Din.  He didn’t need the Force to know they all felt the same - how could they hurt the kids’ feelings, but how could they eat that sludge?

Already big green ears were starting to wilt as they sensed hesitation.  Din knew a longer silence would only upset them more.  “I volunteer myself to go last,” he finally said.

Everyone else glared at him; even Luke’s serene face pinched a bit.

“You don’t wanna eat it, Dad?” asked Yod’ika.

“Well I’m not a babysitter.  I’m your father.  It’s not right I eat before any of your babysitters on Babysitters’ Day,” Din said.

The children all nodded in agreement.  The time was enough for Winta to muster her courage and step forward.  “I want to try your soup.  It looks yummy.”

Eagerly the little ones nudged her forward, using the Force to ladle stew into her bowl and pull out her chair to help her sit.  “Everything is safe for humans and Ugnaughts,” Luke muttered as the kids were distracted.  “I checked.”

Din watched them all look between each other.  But now that Winta was served, those perked-up ears and big bright eyes were waiting expectantly for their next babysitter to honor.

Kind Omera stepped up next, smiling as she took her bowl.  Kuiil followed her, warmly thanking each Yod’ika who helped him.  Greef - after a judging look at Boba - went next while jovially insisting the stew smelled amazing.  Boba moved ahead of Cara to go next, asking for an extra ladleful.  Peli cut in next, praising her clever little bright eyes for cooking their very own meal, to their delight.  Fennec joined the line, graciously accepting her portion.  Cara muttered to Din that he owed her a big drink but got in line with a broad grin and even slurped up a spoonful then and there.  Even IG-11 accepted a bowl, but the kids insisted they had a special ingredient for him and poured a cup of oil into his stew so that he could “eat” it too.

At last it was Din’s turn.  “We made you a spot inside so you can eat by yourself, Dad,” Yod’ika said.

“No, I got Papa a straw so he can eat it with all our friends,” said Yod’ika 10.

“I don’t want to interfere with your special day for your babysitters,” Din said, privately relieved by the perfect excuse.  “I’ll eat quickly inside then come back out and sit with you.”

The children agreed.  Din knew how dangerously clever they were, so he quickly located a vac tube and poured the stew out in portions so it wouldn’t clog the pipes and be found.  He was pretty sure a live bug or two was wiggling as they went down.  He hoped his friends were faring better.

He dreaded what he might find, but the kids were laughing and delighted as they gobbled up stew, seated between their caretakers.  Winta was showing off how to blow bubbles in her stew with the straw Yod’ika 10 had given her.  Boba and Greef were in competition to see who could down a third bowl while a gaggle of children cheered them on.  Kuiil and Peli were tending to IG-11, who had clearly had some stew against his better judgment and clogged his wiring.  Fennec was juggling five knives to entertain the kids; even Omera was watching in open appreciation and multiple children were arguing with Luke about being able to try it in the temple.

Din sat himself by Cara.  To his surprise, her bowl was nearly empty.  “You ate it?”

Cara glanced around to make sure none of the kids could hear before saying, “It’s not as bad as it smells.”

Din took a whiff and turned the scent filters on his helmet back on.  “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I had worse on Endor.”

“Endor?” Yod’ika asked.  “What’s Endor, Cara?”

She grinned.  “Well, it is a war story.  Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“I love your stories!” Yod’ika insisted as several brothers came over to join him.  “Tell us, Cara!”

“All right,” Cara said.  “Well, let’s start with what Endor was like.  Green and hot and foresty, just like this place, but picture giant teddy bears like that one Yod’ika 66 has…”

Yod’ika settled on Din’s lap as the other babysitters joined them for the story.  Din smiled.  Each and every one of them deserved their day.  But maybe next year, he’d help the kids make a real feast instead.

[autisticdindjarin]

what if. winta mandalorian sorgan blue armor.

[poetryinmotion-author]

The Next Year: The Strangers, Part I

IT’S HEEERE!

Yes, I was supposed to be doing a bunch of grad school stuff, and yes, my poem for workshop isn’t even finished yet, but you know what? I needed this! So here it is--THE NEXT YEAR!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44976469/chapters/113170456

This is only the first half of the opening story, and the second half should be ready soon!

UGH I’m so excited!!!

.....now off to do some homework. Love y’all!

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

🥞WiP Wednesday🍓

modern au’s were invented for them actually

[azertyrobaz]

Mandomera Week 2022: Day#6 - Separation

[riwintari]

— ‘to my beloved’

featuring @clowneree ‘s oc, Sanct Rey

[crystalcatgamer]

Your kindness is a gift I savor

Cara Dune is scary, too, but in a more subtle way than the looming figure clad in gleaming armor. But Omera had seen the way the man gently cradled his child, and decided that even warriors that hid themselves had hearts, too. She did not find herself regretting the decision; the Mandalorian is surprisingly soft-spoken and polite, though not without rough edges sanded down with halting sentences.

He is kind in the way he indulges Winta, in the way he keeps an eye on his child without fail. He is also unyielding in the way he corrects the villagers' fighting stances, in the way he wields a blaster, in the way he lurks at the fringes, always standing guard. Omera can appreciate that.

Omera gets caught by two raiders upon wandering too far into the forest while picking herbs; Din Djarin comes crashing in.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42722340

[lizardwritesao3]

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences

Archive Warning: None

Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera/Cobb Vanth/Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Omera, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, Omera/Cobb Vanth, Cobb Vanth & Paz Vizsla, Omera & Paz Vizsla

Tags: Polyamory, Sickfic, First Kiss, Found Family, Touch-Starved, Hurt/Comfort, trans ace Din, trans Cobb, trans Omera, genderfluid Paz, Complicated Relationships, past Paz/Din, Queerplatonic Relationships, platonic marriage, POV Din Djarin, POV Multiple, Polyamory Negotiations, Character Study, Canon-Typical Violence, brief slavery mentions pertaining to Cobb's past, spice runners but no drug use, Developing Relationship, canon compliant to the end of Mando s2, food as a love language, there's some plot and action in here but it's mostly kinda slice of life dev, i have taken many liberties with canon

Summary: This is going to be a long fic, as in, "I intended to write a few drabbles and now it's somehow 90,000 words" long. This fic is already written and new chapters will be uploaded each weekday of May. Not the best upload schedule, but it was written for a monthly event, and a once-a-week upload schedule would take way longer.

There’s some BOBF spoilers/references in here, and it's set post-show, but tbh you probably won’t be able to tell canon from headcanon unless you’ve seen the show and know the difference already. Boba, Fennec, the Armorer, and Luke Skywalker make brief appearances in a few scenes.

Anyway this is just me in denial of Paz’s BOBF characterization and the fact that Cobb and Omera have only existed for like 15 minutes total in live action. Welcome to my immense amount of headcanons! The majority of this fic is from Din's POV, but there's also a few chapters each from Paz's, Omera's, and Cobb's POV.

I believe I've tagged everything, but let me know if I missed something.