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moon-sang · 2 years ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɪɴ

Din Djarin x Teen!Reader

SUMMARY: When meeting up with a slaver who had information on where Gideon may have taken Grogu, Din comes across a peculiar little slave.

WARNINGS: Slave!reader, Fem!Reader, Teen!reader, soft!Mando, angst (A LOT), fluff, cuteness!!!, mature language, typical violence, dad!Din, trauma and all the bad things that come with slavery @.@

~ There is ONE 鬼滅の刃 (Demon Slayer) reference in this.

WORDCOUNT: 1.5K

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Big, shiny armour was all you could see as you opened the door.

You silently gasp at how tall your new visitor is, taking a few careful steps back. The strange man in the helmet tilts his head to the side, taking recognition of your much, much smaller form.

After a moment’s silence he nods his head once, before carefully stepping around, in such a gentle manner it has you dumbstruck. If it had been any other one of your master’s friends they would have pushed you into the wall laughing as they stumbled in.

Weird...

“Aaah! Mando!” Exclaims your master. Maker, you could just gag at his sickly voice.

“Dru,” Mando greets.

Your Jablogian master hobbles over to this Mando guy, his thick double chin bobbing up and down as he stumbled across the hall.

“Have you brought the money?” Dru seethes, freckles of saliva spraying from his mouth as he spoke.

The Mando nods his head and places a pouch of what you could only assume were creds, into his rough hand.

“Aaah, very good, very good, now come, let us eat and talk about your little green womprat” He suggests, clapping his hands twice. Your breath hitches momentarily as you rush to your masters side. “Get us something to eat.” He snarls, shoving you into the kitchen.

You stumble in and fall with an oomph. Quickly you force yourself up. Master did NOT like to wait. Grabbing a cutting board and knife you begin slicing a few fruits into small shapes, Just the way master liked it. You slide the fruits off of the wooden cutting board and into a rather big bowl, sprinkling some orange and lemon juice on top of it, for extra flavour. To finish off you pour two glasses of red wine before walking out.

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You gently place the tray of food and wine on the small table before your master and ‘The Mando’ The Mando quickly thanks you in a timid voice, but does not make a move to grab anything to eat.

Weird...

“Took you long enough!” Dru practically yells, snatching a piece of fruit and shoving it in his mouth.

The Mando menacingly cocks his head to the side, staring at Dru in such confidence it was almost scary.

Dru chuckles nervously and pushes the bowl across the table, encouraging The Mando to take a piece.

He still makes no indication of wanting to have any.

The man in the silver helmet pushes the bowl back to Dru, refusing his tempting offer.

“Thank you for your communication.” The Mando offers, before stepping out of their small booth and making way for the exit.

“Wait!” Dru yells in desperation.

You knew that voice, he was hungry for more of his credits.

“Please, mr. Mandalorian-”

Mr. Mandalorian?

“I will come along with you and save your green son, if you can pay me for my service.” He tries.

“No, thank you.”

Mr. Mandalorian gives you a quick glance from behind him, and stutters in his confident strides to the door. However, with a quick shake of his head, he leaves the mansion.

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“YOU IDIOT!” Screams Dru.

“It’s your fault he didn’t stay!”

You quickly duck as another spice tray is thrown at your head.

“You weren't doing things right! You-you were standing wrong! You....you chose the wrong wine! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!” He screams, slapping you hard enough on the cheek to send you to the stone floor.

You whimper, but allow no tears to pass.

“I’m sorry, master.” You barely say above a whisper.

Dru scoffs incredulously, eyeing you in disgust.

“Sorry won’t cut it. I think it’s time I sold you off to someone else, and get me a more useful slave. What do you think...Y/l/n?”

You’re about to answer when a powerful punch is delivered to your stomach. Once again you crumble to the cool floor, willing the pain everywhere to go away.

Of course..it does not.

A forceful kick is swung and landed to the side of your head, and that was the last grip of reality you had before you mind swam into unconsciousness.

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“Get.....need....bandages......quickly...”

You could distinctly hear someone speaking, but the sound of your breaths and your heartbeat were too loud to decipher what they were saying. You strained your ears even harder to try and make out some of what the person was saying, wanting to gain some sense of your surroundings.

“I need some bandages, and get some bacta too!”

Hey...that kind of sounds like....The Mando?

You force your eyes open, instantly regretting it as a sharp hot white pain shot through your skull.

You whimper and let your head lull against someones arms.

“Shhh, it’s ok, you’re ok.”

An arm moves across your waist and pulls you a bit to closer to-

wait

was someone holding you?......

Was that the smell of smoke??

Your head was spinning and The Mando must have noticed because his thumbs begin to gently rub at your temples, avoiding the wound left by master-

Where was master Dru?

“Where...master....” You groan.

“He’s gone, you don’t have to worry, ok, just try to open your eyes, take it easy though.”

You do as you’re told and slowly blink your eyes open, this time the pain is dull as you do so.

You’re greeted with a familiar tilt of a silver helmet, and a few unidentified people behind him.

“Good, now keep your eyes open, can you do that?”

You don't respond, only keeping your eyes open for him.

“Good.”

“I’m going to check for a concussion now. I need you to answer my questions as honestly as you can.”

You do nothing in response.

“Ok.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He ask, holding up 2 fingers.

You copy his fingers and hold out 2 of your own.

“Ok, good.”

“Do you know your name?” He asks, voice gruff.

You don’t say anything, just staring blankly at the void of his visor.

“Can you tell me your name?” He repeats, giving your bruised arm a gentle squeeze.

Din watches the slave with intent.

He was starting to believe she really did have a concussion, until she reached for her pocket.

She fished out a small coin and positioned it in between her index finger and thumb, then she tossed it in the air and caught it with direct precision.

Tails...it landed on tails.

“I’m Y/n.” She admits.

Maker it felt so long since she had said that name to anyone.

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5 days later...

“Is she still using that coin?” Cara asks, as Y/n played in the fields with Grogu.

“Yes.” Din admits, head hung low.

“That is so strange.” The ex-shock trooper chuckles.

“What do you think it means?” She questions.

“I have no idea, she uses it at least three or four times a rotation.”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Fennec says with a smirk.

“Y/n! c’mere.” The assassin calls.

Cara and Din exchange glances of confusion, but nonetheless play along.

“So..” She starts.

“Tonight, I am going out to eat dinner, because Boba is a horrible cook. I’m thinking of wearing normal attire, but there’s this really pretty dress. Which do you think I should go with?” She asks, a gentle smile playing on her mouth.

Same as always, Y/n pulls out her small coin and tosses it in the air.

She catches it and flips it onto her palm.

Heads.

“The pretty dress.” She murmurs.

Fennec smiles once more. “Thank you, you can go now.” She whispers. And off she went, back into the meadows.

“The coin is her decision maker.” Cara gasps.

“Obviously.” Fennec scoffs.

“She was a slave...she doesn’t know how to make decisions for herself.” Din ponders, putting the puzzle together.

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Later that day...

“Y/n.. Can I talk to you, please.” Din asks, gently, as not to startle her.

She brings her lucky coin to her hands and flicks it up, however, Din catches it in midair.

“Let’s make a bet.” He offers, leaving no room for the teenager to say otherwise.

“If the coin lands on heads, you make your own decisions from now on, and have the freedom to act as you feel is right. And you throw the coin into the nearest ocean as far as you can.”

Din could see the internal struggle through her eyes, the desperation of her wanting to grab the coin out of his hand and hide away from the rest of the cruel world.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m going to help you, adi’ka.”

“D-Do I really h-h-have to throw i-it in the o-cean? I-it’s the only thing I-I-I-I have left of my f-f-amily.” She stutters as tears well in her eyes for the first time Din had ever seen.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, adi’ka [little one], don’t cry, no i’kaad [baby], you can keep it...we’ll just...put it in a locked cupboard and whenever you want to hold it, you can, ok?” He whispers, holding her in a gentle embrace.

“Ok.” She sniffles.

And although hard at first, she learnt she had a choice, because her buir never gave up on her.

#Din Djarin x reader #Din x reader #Mando x reader #The Mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin x teen!reader #Slave reader #Din Djarin x you #Mando x you #Mando angst #Dad!Din #Dad!Mando #Dadalorian #Dad!Din x reader

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