Din Djarin/Mando/The Mandalorian: One Shots, Imagines, etc.

Living Weapon

A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST AYYY (requested by @thefearlessparrot , thank u so much btw), also PBY (Pre Baby Yoda) haha lmao also im really sorry the vibe is all wrong in this fic because i wrote one para every other day and shit so sorry about that, it was really weird and serious then funny and just not the best thing i've ever written

Warnings: lmao idek, violence i guess

Word count: 1517 words of shittiness

You stride into the cantina, instinctively casting your glance around the large room. You hate cantinas, because there are so many people and so many places for your enemies to hide. And, unfortunately you have a lot of those, since you're one of the best hunters in the Guild - and you're covered in beskar and high tech weapons. But you aren't the best, just one of the best, because, as Greef always tells you, your skill matches that of another bounty hunter, who you've never met, but have heard a great deal about.

You freeze as you see who sits stiffly opposite Greef. Another Mandalorian. His armour seems old, painted burgundy, scratched and dented, a glaring comparison with your latest addition, a shiny new thigh plate, painted black like the rest of your armour. After a month of bounty hunting with nuetral grey paint, you had realised you needed to be more menacing for bounties to see past the fact that you're a female, and black paint that seemed to suck in light very much did the job.

You tilt your head, jerking your chin at the other Mando.

'Who's this, Greef?'

'Your match. Don't you see? He's the same as you. Of course he's the one who's as good as you!'

'He's the same as me?' You echo. 'Why don't we find out?' You reach into your belt and flip your dagger in your hands, grinning at the Mandalorian opposite you from under your helmet. There's a silver flash, and he's on his feet, holding a viroblade in his hands.

'Hey!' The barkeeper yells. 'No fights!'

'Oh, come on,' Greef says, handing him some credits. 'If they damage anything, this will pay.'

The barkeeper takes a look at the credits, hesitates, then takes them. You glance at your fellow Mandalorian, and you hate to admit, but you both put away your weapons and sit down. It's like a mutual understanding between you two; neither of you want to be watched fighting like some sort of entertainment, and a sort of truce forms because you both are simply tired of Greef's antics.

'So,' you say. 'I assume you want to team us up?'

'Exactly!' Greef crows. 'My two best hunters, after this man!' He holds up a puck, and Mando takes it, switching on the blue tinged hologram of a man. You recognise him immediately; you've never seen him, but you've heard his name, and the stories with it, and besides, the scar stretching from his eye to his lip tells you enough.

'Fennec Shand's most fearsome ally?' Mando asks. 'Sion Enkows?'

Greef nods, then looks expectantly at the two of you, but neither of you notice because you're sizing each other up, your eyes narrowed under your visor as you monitor your fellow Mandalorian's movements.

'I'll take it,' he says, just as you say,

'Why not?'

-------

Your feet crunch in the snow as you step down from Mando's ship. You don't know his name; he hasn't told you, so you haven't told him yours - the two of you are just calling each other Mando. It feels strange, calling someone the nickname you normally respond to, but it fits him as much as it fits you.

'Really? He chose Hoth?' You huff. 'I thought he'd be smarter than that. Only dumb bounties choose barely inhabited planets.'

Mando shrugs. 'We don't know what Enkow's got up his sleeves. He could already know we're here.'