#din x omera
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if disney makes din and bo katan a couple in the end i will be so pissed, like i love bo katan but WHERE’S MY GIRL OMERA???? 😪 💔
#the mandolarian#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin#din djarin x reader#the mandalorion spoilers#bo katan x reader#star wars x reader#din djarin x omera#din x omera#omera
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#cobb vanth#the mandalorian#dincobb#din djarin#star wars#marshalorian#mandalorian#fanfiction#funny memes#created my meme#dinluke#caradin#dinbo#bo katan kryze#luke skywalker#cara dune#omera#din x omera
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I need the last season of mando to open with a helmet less din doing laundry and a cgi grogu streaking across the room while he talks to omera on hollo with food on the stove or her and winta came to visit
#star wars#the mandalorian#din djarin#daddy din#mando and grogu#groguthechild#groguito#din and grogu#din x omera#mando x omera#din djarin x omera#omera#baby grogu#grogu#grogu djarin#din grogu
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Pls why is the antisocial titanium trash bucket father shippable with every mother fucking character in the mandalorian someone explain
#din djarin#the mandalorian#dinluke#bobadin#bobadinluke#caradin#dinsoka#dincobb#dinfeld#din x omera#pls why are there so many#reblog with whatever I missed#im screaming#v post
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you ever think how in S1E7 when Mando went back to Sorgan to get Cara for the mission on Nevarro, Omera probably saw the Razor Crest flying by and for a moment thought that maybe Mando had changed his mind and was coming back to stay with her
because i do and it drives me crazy every day 🙃
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Pinterest is my go to go app and I have a whole board dedicated to Star Wars!
Scrolling down along I started seeing mood board aesthetics and it got me inspired to do three of my favourite highly underrated star wars character, Omera ✨
This one's my personal fav!
Then we have one that's based on her look with her hair and her wellies
This one however is more centered on the side of her that is briefly shown and teased. The rebel strong side, which is why I need her backstory. I'll make loads more of these if/ when we get her backstory.
I love Omera incredibly. She's a regular girl on a peaceful planet doing her daily thing but she also knows how to defend herself and fight for her people. He personality is down to earth and humble even when she knows how to shoot and probably has a meaningful maybe tragic past she still is kind to others. Especially Din - she doesn't judge him at all nor taunt him. She full on accepts him and his choices without a doubt. Her vibe, her energy suits Din Djarin's so much. They're practically soulmates.
I really really hope David Filoni and John Favreau decide to bring her back to show us her backstory and show that they can be together. Besides love is all about sacrifices and comprises too 💖
#omera#mandomera#din x omera#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x omera#star wars#bring omera back 2023#bring omera back 2k23#bring her backkk I've been asking for ages 😭😭#they're literally soulmates#her mood board would match Din's hence being soulmates
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appulse
Omera rises with the sun.
from @rogueninja's post "i haven’t watched the mando finale but all i’m saying is if din is gonna retire somewhere with grogu it should be on sorgan with omera"
#star wars#the mandalorian#mandomera#din x omera#omera x din#omera#din djarin#***#***f#I DID IT IT'S HERE LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO#rogueninja#dinluke#<- ky if u track another tag feel free to lmk<3 hope u guys like it ^^
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"To The Letter"
Type: One-shot
Pairing: Din Djarin x Omera
Rating: General Audiences
Summary:
“The community’s grateful,” Omera told the Mandalorian one afternoon by the ponds. Indeed, the little Sorgan village is thankful for their newfound peace. Beforehand, Omera thinks that sending a heartfelt thank-you note to the silver-clad warrior is an excellent idea. Or isn’t it?
(Written for Mandomera Week 2022, second prompt: “Secrets”)
read it here or on AO3 (with author's notes)
To The Letter
“Dear Mandalorian,” Omera started speaking into one of her old, pocket-sized datapads where she logged in her thoughts.
Until recently, all her mini datapad logs contained holiday recipes, loom weaving techniques, and instructions of handy repairs around the humble hut which she and Winta shared.
Omera released a breathy, quivering laugh. She shook out the dream-fog that plagued her head.
“Delete salutation,” Omera instructed the log. Dear Mandalorian had disappeared into a clean slate.
“To the Mandalorian,” Omera recited into the data-log device, starting anew. “T-to…”
Omera sighed. Her mind had suddenly gone blank, right from when she had erased the entire “dear”-ness towards the letter’s recipient. A bubble of frustration began to brew within her.
She cleared her throat, composed herself, and took a deep breath. Her warm voice was the solitary reverberation in the hut. She had time for herself to do this, while Winta was at school, while the Mandalorian and Cara Dune did shifts at patrol rounds, and while a village matriarch took her turn in looking after the little green child.
It’s been two standard months since Cara, the Mandalorian, and his small son were greeted by the perimeter of their farm and welcomed with open arms. Bless them—he and Cara had been very sincere in their attempts to help and uplift the village, if not for their acute pragmatism which came as a shock sometimes. They had once suggested that the villagers relocate elsewhere, as their beloved krill farm was doomed should it suffer a Klatooinian attack aided by their AT-ST assault machine.
Omera couldn’t believe it at first, when the Mandalorian had formed a viable solution. He’d suggested with a casual air that the village can be taught how to fight, if they were willing to take up arms and train for days on end. An attempt of such a scale hadn’t befallen their village in decades—they were peaceful folk who only wished to do good business through their exceptional spotchka, which was their main means of livelihood for generations.
The Mandalorian kept true to his word with a gravity that reflected the honor in which he had been raised. Not only had he lent his undivided attention to make sure everyone was as capable a shot as they could compared to Omera’s surprising expertise, he had lent his own weapons—dozens of hands touching the sacred objects of his religion, leaving a dozen more fingerprints upon the shiny metals from a variety of his personal munitions.
Omera watched the way he talked, the way he moved, even the way he stood in tranquil stillness. He was precise, reserved, unpatronizing… genuine.
His desire to help was real. He had already taken the downpayment for Cara’s own payroll, leaving nothing for himself and his child, save for food and lodging. Omera’s heart had sunken then, realizing that he had only wished for a place to lie low and think, and care for his child without the perils of the hunt and being hunted in turn—no more, and no less.
In his confidence over being able to restore the village to its post-raids state, his only valued transaction was a momentary home in exchange for his time, his blood, his sweat, his skill in the fight.
Now, in this noon hour, Omera remained stuck with her message to the Mandalorian. Cara’s had been easy; the other woman took neither flattery nor hyperbole, which Omera appreciated. She had found a friend in Cara. However, when it came to the Mandalorian…
Omera wasn’t one to curse, but this time, an ungainly swear word escaped her lips as frustration reached its peak.
“Fine,” Omera whispered to herself, relenting. “Dear Mandalorian…”
“Dearest Mandalorian and baby…”
“To our dearest Mandalorian and baby…”
“Our dearest… my dearest…”
Omera groaned, almost defeated but not quite. When she first came across the idea of a thank-you note, she thought that it was a lovely idea. She’d brought it up to Winta, and her little girl agreed with it whole-heartedly. When Omera had permitted Winta to go ahead with her own thank-yous into the log, the child went about it with an innocent ease of one unsullied by the humiliation of inadvertently saying the wrong things.
With a tinge of good-natured envy, Omera watched and heard her child utter her own sweet words of gratitude. A child’s sincerity flowed from their heart quickly downstream, unhampered.
Then came Omera’s turn. As days passed by, dictation into the log became increasingly difficult.
She couldn’t find the words to sort her feelings; or perhaps, she couldn’t decide on her feelings to sort out the words.
Omera was… conflicted.
“Dearest Mandalorian…”
She remembered the way he trudged around the perimeter, unbothered like the sturdiest tree in the forest. He emanated a quiet confidence which needed no heralding or ostentation. It was ever-present like the air Sorgan breathed or the waters upon the river that shimmered under the sun, since the beginning of time. It was a confidence which inspired trust.
It was a confidence which inspired…
“Dearest Mandalorian…” Omera begun once more, for the umpteenth time.
Love.
The Mandalorian was inspiring love…
Omera felt discomfort and a muted horror over the epiphany, which she herself had acted as a barrier against. However, actively fighting it was affecting her clarity of mind and the serenity in her soul. If she resisted any further, she’d perceive herself a false person, unworthy of truth as she herself could not extend it.
The truth, Omera decided, didn’t need to be paraded out in the open. If she could only be true to herself, that would be enough. All she needed to do was let all her thoughts out, starting with “Dearest Mandalorian” and all the words she wished she could tell him but couldn’t—shouldn’t. At this moment in time, it was still a very complicated thing, like a stove top too burning to the touch.
If Omera could just let all those words out for him and yet treat all this as if no one listened, she’d find equilibrium again. The Mandalorian didn’t have to know.
“To my dearest Mandalorian…
You are a force of nature, a blessing, a gift, a sign from our gods to guard our home.
When you walk around the circle of ponds, it’s as if you weave a spell of protection around it.
You keep all of us safe. You make us feel safe. We know we are safe because you made it so. You are a jewel.
And I love you for it.
I love you.”
A long silence followed as Omera felt the tears fall, as soon as she had uttered the last three words. The data-log noted it down like a faithful, automatic scribe.
She began to feel a tremendous burden slowly lift from deep within her, but she couldn’t face herself over this tenacious, hidden confession just yet. When her many inner storms had settled, maybe she can go out in the open again and pretend she had never said those words…
Her mouth tried to utter something more. She wanted to dictate to the log… “delete last message,” but a huge part of her refused to. It was like taking her words back, her sincerity back. It would once again be a lie.
Wiping the tears, forcing out a long exhale of trapped emotions, she let her shoulders droop. She calmed the beating of her heart. It was hammering powerfully enough to knock the oxygen out of her brain, and she held her ground.
“I’ll be okay,” Omera promised herself.
Letting the draft of her secret letter to marinate in the log for a day or two, Omera stepped out of the hut to enjoy the vestiges of daylight. She had been at the log for hours. She needed to stretch her legs and check on her dearest Mandalorian and his sweet child while she’s at it.
***
“Winta!”
Omera flitted around the hut like a caged bird all morning, flipping mats and pillows and folded laundry, tossing small household items here and there in clear search of something. “Winta, my love—have… have you seen my data-log?”
Winta was chewing porridge at the kitchen table. Her mouth was full when she replied, adding to Omera’s vexation. “Nnho, Mhama.” The little girl swallowed her food. “Mama—was that the same log with my thank-you letter in it?”
Omera wrung her hands, entangled her fingers over her braids as the plaits slowly came undone. “Y-yes. Yes. I’ve sent the log with your note to the Mandalorian. I don’t think I’ve sent mine—“ the young widow stopped short, catching her breath.
She wouldn’t be caught telling her own daughter a lie.
Omera hadn’t been in her best mood ever since the Mandalorian, the baby, and Cara had departed the village at the same time. She and Winta had adjusted their expectations over the whole messy affair of the Mandalorian needing to be on the run again for the safety of his son. Her heart had ached so preposterously, that when she had been packing gifts for the baby which the Mandalorian took with him, she also had not been paying close attention to her actions.
She had wanted to get over the pain of seeing father and son off, not knowing that she may have done so a little too hurriedly.
“Oh… Oh no. Maker…” Omera felt crushed as she collapsed on a wooden chair in their modest living room. Her chest heaved visibly and she seemed faint, enough for Winta to squeak and fetch her mother a tankard of water.
“Mama,” volunteered Winta at last, as Omera drank her fill, her eyes bloodshot and tired. “Mama… maybe you’ve packed it along with the baby’s gifts! It’s the tiny rectangle thing with a flap, right? I think I saw it tucked in the baby’s blanket…
Omera sat up, very attentive. Her eyes were wide as she stuttered at her daughter. “Y-yes, that one. It’s… it’s a tiny rectangle with a flap.”
Her body turned to jelly. Her bones turned to ice.
She buried her face in her hands.
Winta was prodding at her mother. “Was your letter in there, Mama?”
Omera nodded, keeping her face shrouded in her palms, unspeaking.
Winta scooted closer to her mother. “Then why d’ya look so worried, Mama? Did you say something in the log by mistake which you weren’t able to fix?”
Omera let out a small sob; she sat still for long moments before finding the courage to peek out of her shell.
She thought for an answer, unwittingly holding Winta close. The child, confused, simply embraced her mother back, her dark head resting under Omera’s chin.
The young widow was learning the hard way that secrets—in one way or another—were not meant to remain so forever. Omera kissed the top of Winta’s head, resigned to her fate.
“No, my darling,” said Omera softly. “There are no mistakes.”
If Winta suddenly sported an even more baffled expression, Omera took no heed, as she felt her heart burst and she kissed her daughter’s soft crown once more.
***
The child patted his little three-fingered hands over the pocket-sized datapad with a flap on it. He wondered what that uncomfortable shape was digging into his side from among the blankets, and out of natural, immediate curiosity, the baby fished it out.
He uttered a pleasant trill which sent the Mandalorian’s visor facing towards him in the passenger’s seat. The man had been focused on the ship’s controls before then, as the Razor Crest whistled like a bolt through hyperspace.
The Mandalorian paused, intent over the object which the baby had found interest in.
“Whatcha got there, kid?” the Mandalorian inquired of the baby with ever-growing fondness. “More presents?"
The baby giggled and trilled, the magnetic pull of his huge eyes keeping the Mandalorian’s attention glued to his son.
A tiny, airy chuckle seeped through the warrior’s vocoder. “They’ve been spoiling you rotten, kid. I’ve never seen a womp rat get spoiled like you my whole life…”
The baby seemed to have other plans as his little clawed fingers played with the flap, and as soon as he pried it open, Winta’s cheerful voice filled the cockpit.
“To the dearest sweetest baby there ever was and his dad…”
The child’s ears flapped inwards and his face scrunched in delight. Winta’s thank-you message played on as the Mandalorian continued to fail at holding in a fit of tremulous laughter. That ecstatic sound was brief but tangible. The child loved his father’s laugh. He made that face again, and the Mandalorian chuckled again.
“…many many many hugs and kisses, and all the yummy frogs in the galaxy for you and all the oatcakes for your dad because you helped our village pres.. prosp… um—prosper again. That’s a big word we learned in school yesterday!”
Winta’s log-note soon came to a close, also translated in glowing little aurebesh letters as the little girl spoke her exuberant words. The child clapped, patted the little data-log once, as if to send a gesture of affection to Winta from afar.
The Mandalorian exuded one of his rare, wistful sighs (they were usually sighs of resignation).
“That was very nice of Winta, kid. I’m sure you’d love to keep that log to tide you over while we hop around the galaxy for a little while…”
“To my dearest Mandalorian…” began a new message.
The child looked so amused when the Mandalorian’s head whipped back to the direction of the data-log, quicker than a finger snap or a flash of lightning. The man sat there on the pilot’s chair, unmoving.
The Mandalorian had become paralyzed for an instant, his helmet tipping subtly, small movements missed if one should blink.
Then, the Mandalorian decided that hearing Omera’s voice again was a luxury he was unwilling to indulge in at the moment. He was unprepared. He swallowed hard, his breaths grew shallow, and he had sprung from his seat to carefully kneel in front of the child.
“…you keep all of us safe…” continued the young widow’s log-note, but the cockpit had grown abruptly silent when the Mandalorian had gotten hold of the device and snapped it shut.
The child cooed at his father inquisitively. He made cajoling noises of affection when the Mandalorian remained still, so still.
Then his shoulders heaved in the wake of a tremendously strained sigh.
“I’ll be okay, kid,” said the Mandalorian at last. As an afterthought, he patted the closed log firmly with a gloved hand.
“I know you’ll think me weird, kid,” added the man, his voice scratched with emotion. “But… I’d rather keep this a secret for a while longer…”
There was no judgment in the baby’s babbled response. The child reached out, and with surprising tenderness, laid a tiny clawed hand on top of his father’s helm.
“We’ll be okay,” the Mandalorian repeated, and the baby agreed.
****
#mandomeraweek2022#din x omera#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfics#my works#my fic#din djarin#omera#sorgan#the mandalorian season 1#more bittersweetness#the-kittylorian mandomera week fics
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for the prompt list, how about #16 for the Star Wars characters of your choice? 🪐✨
#16 -- our life was one block wide
this is definitely a very abstract interpretation of the prompt and also one of the more incoherent au concepts ive run with but here u go <3 <3
"But I'd say your best bet will be homeschooling," Qui-Gon Jin is saying. "I had to switch myself, back when the kids were school age. It is a commitment, but a worthy one."
His long biker style ponytail is offset by the very lumpy and quite frankly ugly knit sweater he wears, and the thick plastic rims of his glasses. His kitchen door, which he had to duck a little to step through, stands open to let in the pale fall air and also to enhance the acoustics of the relative chaos running through the rest of his house. It seems to be full of people -- not too hard to guess who, given the line up of lopsided family photos lining the wall next to the ancient rain poncho and the three mismatched cars in the driveway -- which is … unexpected. When Din met Bo Katan's old college friend at the most recent political rally she’d dragged (read: blackmailed) him into attending, he had opened up out of desperation; even Bo Katan’s referrals were worth following up on when he had no other options. Except all Ahsoka Tano said, sipping the juice box she’d pilfered from the drinks table while Paz droned on about clan solidarity at the podium, was, You know, I think you’d do really well to talk to my dad.
And now here he is. Drinking apple tea out of definitely-homemade clay mugs and discussing educational philosophy with a total stranger, who looks like someone spliced Sons of Anarchy with like, an English teacher (Cara has been making him catch up on modern media). At least Greef and Cara were okay to babysit Grogu for the hour; otherwise Din wouldn’t know what to do at all.
Ahsoka’s foster father is still talking, it seems.
“Now, granted, it can be overwhelming. You could always try an alternative Montessori type institution – my eldest Obi-Wan’s working in that these days, though I can’t say I completely hold with their methods. But a boy with his ability and constitution, he might do fine in that sort of environment.”
“He’s just,” Din tries to come up with the words, “I don’t want him to feel like -- out of place.” Omera said nonverbal at six wasn’t unheard of, especially given none of them knew, really, what had happened before Din found him, but –
“Always tricky at that age,” Qui-Gon agrees wisely. He takes a long sip from his cooling cup while a loud thundering of footsteps sounds on the staircase just outside the kitchen door and one of the voices that had been going on in the background becomes more clearly audible, saying,
“Well, I wouldn’t have lost it if you didn’t leave all your old things in my room!”
“You own a literal apartment with your literal wife and children, Anakin!” calls back a second voice, in cheerful, overloud tones. This voice, at least, Din recognizes, “And I can use your old room for storage if I want to, Qui-Gon said so –”
“Please tell Snips to use Obi-Wan’s room for storage next time!” calls the first voice, matching that same easy cheerfulness and somewhat more directly aimed at the kitchen.
Amidst all this a teenaged girl with too much hair wanders in, picks up and bites into one of the leftover apples on the counter beside the stove, then says, proclaimative,
“Dad lost his screwdriver again.”
Qui-Gon gives Din a complicatedly fond look, like, Kids.
Din sweats. Grogu is a kid, his kid, but increasingly he is realizing that he has no idea what that means – the depth and implications of a child in his care. He probably wouldn’t even be here if not for the sheer dumb luck of his lovely widowed neighbour and Greef and Cara from the bar, and now homeschooling – Din never finished high school! He’s diplomaless! It doesn’t matter what Boba Fett says about corrupt institutions in the quiet moments between running security during happy hour, he can’t leave Grogu without opportunities in this economy –
“Hey,” says the girl, interrupting Din's mental doom spiral. “Wait a second. You’re the guy! From the afterschool program.”
“The – the afterschool program?” Din manages.
“Yeah, my brother Luke volunteers there. By Temple road? You were there last week to pick your kid up and he wanted to keep playing with the blocks.” She grins, a combination of cleverness and genuine care in her round cheeked face. “The adorable Dumbo ears, right?”
“He –” Din clears his throat. “Yes. My neighbour says he’ll grow into them.”
“I saw him run over to you at pickup time,” says the girl. “It was so sweet. You should’ve seen him, Grandpa, this guy’s a natural.”
“Leia’s an excellent judge of character,” says Ahsoka’s sudden voice, in time with her braided head poking into the kitchen. “You should listen to her. But later, because she’s late for soccer practice.”
“We’re late for soccer practice,” Leia says, though allows herself to be led out of the room, not before catching a second piece of fruit in her hands, this one tossed gracefully across the room by Qui-Gon himself. “Dad’s our coach. You’re assistant coach. The whole extracurricular is an enterprise in nepotism …”
The front door slams distantly behind them.
“I,” Din says, and then just sits there, for a moment, in total silence. He does remember the other day, at the after school program. He remembers the huge grin on Grogu’s face and the warm sticky feel of his cheek and his little fingers tangled in Din’s scarf, which was slightly singed because Greef had just introduced flaming cocktails to the menu and only total idiots drink flaming cocktails in the mid afternoon. He takes a deep breath and tries again. It never hurt anyone to try, Omera keeps reminding him, on the off days they have these weirdly deep chats when they take the garbage out at the same time. “Maybe – maybe if you had some of your … curriculum materials. To share.”
Qui-Gon looks immensely pleased. “That I do, Mr. Din Djarin. I’ll just go fetch them from upstairs. I’m sure your boy will take to them in no time.”
#just realized I made the critical error of not making it ABUNDANTLY clear that shmi is happy healthy and alive in this verse#for the record she is#i have no idea what this is or if its even remotely in character#im having feelings abt the disaster lineage#but also ... din my beloved#star wars#qui gon jin#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#din djarin#din x grogu#the mandalorian#anakin x ahsoka#din x omera#star wars the clone wars#star wars prequels#leia organa#luke skywalker#taylor swift prompt meme#anidala#my writing
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mandomera week day 5: vacation - (featuring completely fake space instagram™)
When Omera asked if they could go on vacation, Din immediately agreed without question. They would take two weeks- two long, wonderful weeks- to visit a few quiet planets with natural beauty as their peak selling points.
After a week of casual hikes through rich green forests, soft orange sunsets against violet skies, and warm ocean water on bare toes, Winta insisted upon putting a camera on them both. Amidst the tidal wave of laughter that came when Din uttered, “What do you want me to do?” (“Just smile, silly!”) the girl snapped a few blurry action shots.
At the end of the trip, Omera treasured Winta’s pictures from their family vacation the most.
#mandomera#mandomeraweek2022#din x omera#the mandalorian#look listen: I wanted to do a manip but I wanted it to be Cool lol#fyi din's space instagram has exactly two (2) photos on it and they're both of grogu with no description#he only logs in so he can like omera's pictures and has grogu as his pfp#also inexplicably has a lot of followers#accidentally goes live once too but viewers only get a good 10 seconds of him asking for help with the darn thing#my edit#my writing#(technically lol)#don't come at me for them not wearing any armor lol they're ON VACATION!!
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i will never forget how the mandalorian fandom treated omera in 2019 & 2020, saying that she tried to take mando's helmet off by force when he gave her consent to touch it 😭
i hope to see her this season or the next season to come, she only appeared in one episode and was never mentioned again, not even sorgan 💔
for sure there is more to explore between their relationship and i hope we get more content about them 🛐
the gifs are not mine, credit to the creators! (i love how mando makes his body a shield ❤️🩹)
#din djarin#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian#din djarin x omera#the mandalorian x reader#star wars#star wars x reader#din djarin x oc#the mandalorian x original character#din x omera#omera#sorgan
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"Anything for our children"
Just two parents defending their children. Because it's a dangerous galaxy out there...
I know, I KNOW, Omera doesn't even look like her, but I tried 🤪
A big thanks to @the-kittylorian for the idea of Omera's rifle!
#mando x omera#the mandalorian fanart#star wars fanart#star wars#mandomera#din omera#din x omera#my art
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Mando headcannon
Griff pushes mando to contact Omera and we see them talking over hallo . She gives him advice on parenting
The visit omera or she comes and visit them
Grogu gets a data pad that he uses to communicate with.
Grogu gets more armour
Some of the The rumors  about a planet of dark forces using yoda species is true
Mando takes his helmet off
We see mayfield again
Mando gets a better ship and the n1 is the weekend ride
Zeb meets mando and works with him
We see Kallus and the kids they have a play date with din grogu
We see Ashoka
#star wars#the mandalorian#din djarin#daddy din#mando and grogu#kalluzeb#star wars ashoka#omera#din x omera#groguthechild#din grogu#mando#mandos4 headcannon#mandomera#mando x omera#grogu#din and grogu#grogu djarin#kallus#zeb orrelios#headcanon
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Welcome!
Before 2022 comes to a close, and with The Mandalorian Season 3 around the corner, let’s raise our spotchka glass to Din and Omera and enjoy a quiet evening by the ponds of Sorgan, listening to Grogu’s favorite one-eyed frogs’ croaking in the distance.
The celebration will take place from Monday, November 28th to Sunday, December 4th, and you are all invited.
Join us for Mandomera Week and share your art, fics, gifsets, etc. with us.
There will be daily prompts (to be posted soon!) and a specific tag here and on ao3 to share your creations.
Feel free to share and reblog this post to spread the Mandomera love! We also have a Discord channel open to anyone - send us an ask for a link if you want to talk all things Mandomera!
Stay tuned, and in the meantime, don’t forget to mark your calendars.
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Round 1 - Bracket #8
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I couldn't resist 🤣😍😚
#cobb vanth#the mandalorian#dincobb#star wars#din djarin#fanfiction#mandalorian#marshalorian#marshmando#pedro pascal#timothy olyphant#dinluke#din x omera#humor#creation gif#gif
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