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unfinished Magi stuff that I don’t know what to do with

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The king of Sindria and his right-hand man were in his room, talking. “ Civilly ”.


  “I swear, Sin, I will choke you,” Ja’far grumbled. Sinbad smirked, crossing his arms over his chest confidently, a retort on his tongue already.


  “Kinky,” he chuckled slightly as he watched Ja’far spin around, light blush on his cheeks.


  “You-,” Ja’far cut himself and swiftly knocked Sinbad to the wall behind him and wrapped his hand around his throat.


  “Oh,” Sinbad uttered, closing and eye and looking at Ja’far’s hand as best he could. His body was flat against the wall and almost touching Ja’far. 


  “I told you I’d choke you, didn’t I?” Ja’far glared. He was grumpier than usual and it showed well. Sinbad held back the noise crawling up his through as best he could. Then Ja’far tightened his grip.


  “Aoh~,” Sinbad moaned, closing both of his eyes and turning his head up slightly as blush grew thick on his cheeks. He could feel Ja’far freeze beneath him.


  “Did you just… moan?” Ja’far inquired, releasing his grip slightly. He felt very confused at the purple-haired man, who’d fallen silent. Ja’far wanted an answer out of him, so he tightened his grip again.


  “Aoh~!” Sinbad moaned again, louder this time as his head fell further backwards, not quite hitting the wall yet. Ja’far retracted his hand and released Sinbad quickly. The king let his head fall forwards again so he was looking directly at Ja’far.


  “Wha-?” Ja’far blinked, his brain trying to comprehend what had just happened. Sinbad looked at Ja’far with lidded, dilated eyes, bright gold dimmed to a dull bronze with lust.


  “So? Are you going to finish what you started or what?” Sinbad whispered huskily into Ja’far’s ear. The younger shivered as the warm breath ran against his ear. Sinbad moved downwards towards Ja’far’s collarbone and nuzzled into it with his nose.


  “Tell me, Ja’far, are you?” Sinbad repeated in a growl into the crook of Ja’far’s neck. The younger man shivered again under the possessiveness in Sinbad’s voice before nodding quietly. He could feel Sinbad smiling, “Good.”


  Sinbad spun the two around, so that Ja’far was against the wall, pinned underneath the king by strong arms. Sinbad looked down with lidded eyes that quickly gained blush on Ja’far’s cheeks. The king bent down into Ja’far’s left collarbone and licked it slightly, earning a shiver from the other.


  The scent of heavy arousal filled the room. Sinbad bit down softly on Ja’far’s neck, not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to affect Ja’far slightly. He made a small noise, but it wasn’t nearly as loud as what Sinbad had made, and Sinbad wasn’t having that.


  “Like that, huh?” He asked, silently moving Ja’far’s undershirt to be able to get a better reach. Ja’far nodded silently and moved his head slightly so his king could have more room to explore. Sinbad took the hint with a smirk and was quick to roll down the sleeves on Ja’far’s over cloth.


  Ja’far held his hands to Sinbad’s chest, not knowing where else to put them and softly caressed it against the annoying layer of cloth. The taller man seemed to almost purr in contemptment, encouraging Ja’far to continue.


  Sinbad continued working gently on Ja’far’s shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as he could and hurrying to take it off. When Ja’far was freed of these clothes, Sinbad immediately got to work, already knowing what to do, while Ja’far’s knowledge was equal to zero when it came to this sort of thing.


  “You can take it off, you know,” Sinbad whispered, seeming to sense Ja’far’s slight discomfort. The younger blinked before slowly working the overclothes off of Sinbad’s muscular body. The white material slipped off easily after the knot was untied, the only thing left covering Sinbad’s body were the purple underclothes.


  Sinbad smiled contentedly, happy to be free of the layer of clothing. He moved his hands to Ja’far’s chest and slid them lightly across his abdomen before moving up to his hardened nipples. He softly rubbed them and earned himself a soft, pleasured moan from Ja’far.


  Ja’far swallowed thickly as he concentrated on Sinbad’s hands toying with his nipples carefully. Despite the obvious lust in his system, he could tell Sinbad was holding back for his sake, and not that Ja’far didn’t appreciate it, but Ja’far didn’t want to be held back on.


  “You don’t have to slow yourself, Sin,” He whispered, looking into Sinbad’s slightly surprised eyes with his own lidded lustful ones. “Go on,”


  Sinbad’s surprise turned into a smirk as his eyes locked on Ja’far. “Are you sure? You have little to no experience with this, I’ll hold back if I need too-,”


  “No! Sin, just…” Ja’far paused, suddenly self-conscious, “do as you want, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop,”


  Sinbad blinked for a moment and then nodded. Suddenly, the king's thigh was between Ja’far’s legs, right against his crotch. The younger suddenly realised just how hard he had gotten already as Sinbad rubbed against the bulge.


  “Hey, you’re pretty hard,” Sinbad said nonchalantly, before his voice went husky and deep, “want me to help you with your problem?”


  Ja’far shivered, unable to move as he suppressed sounds in his throat from the friction he was getting. Sinbad’s thigh moved a particular way, causing Ja’far to moan loudly in pleasure and flatten against the wall behind him for support. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Sinbad smiled, removing his thigh.


  The younger male bit back a whine at the loss of friction, not noticing Sinbad moving down towards his crotch. A light tug got his attention and he looked down to see Sinbad on his knees, pulling slightly at the cloth.


  Without a word, Ja’far tugged off the rest of his clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Now, without the loose clothing, the bulge in his underwear had become obvious and Sinbad was looking at it hungrily. He tugged down on the underwear and Ja’far’s erection sprung free.


  Sinbad stared at it for a moment before reaching out with his hands and lightly groping the ballsack. He ever so slowly and teasingly trailed his finger down from the balls to the shaft, not once taking his eyes off it. One he got to the tip, he rubbed his thumb over the slit already dripping with precum.


  “You seem excited~,” Sinbad commented as he wrapped his hand around Ja’far’s dick. He slowly began pumping his hand up and down, still not dropping his gaze from it. Sinbad’s actions managed to get Ja’far harder than he already was, if that was even possible.


  Sinbad’s hand released Ja’far, causing him to look at the other for a reason as to why he stopped. Sinbad’s head edged towards Ja’far’s cock, his mouth open and eyes still trained on it.


  Ja’far gasped as he was met with an unfamiliar but pleasurable sensation that shot sparks of elation up his spine. Sinbad’s mouth was wet, warm and felt like heaven to Ja’far. He released a moan louder than before; and Sinbad was only at the tip!


  Sinbad trailed his tongue along the tip, licking up some precum as a tease. He began to work Ja’far down into his mouth, slowly taking more and more in. He came across what seemed to be a sensitive spot that caused Ja’far to thrust his hips forward roughly, the tip hitting the back of Sinbad’s throat unexpectedly. 


  He gagged slightly and tears sprang into his eyes, but he continued, ignoring Ja’far’s apology and ‘are you okay?’ to work on the job before him. There were two thoughts on Sinbad’s lust clouded mind, but the main one was; ‘Ja’far’s bigger than I expected!’


  Sinbad placed his hands on Ja’far’s inner thighs and rubbed, while taking the rest of Ja’far in his mouth. His eyes screwed shut as he bobbed and Ja’far hit the back of his throat, but he refused to stop. Ja’far’s moans were getting louder and louder, and each pleasured sound sent heat straight to his own groin.


  Ja’far’s head hit the back of the wall as he tried to contain himself. Sinbad noticed this and released Ja’far from his mouth momentarily.


  “Don’t worry about being loud, the walls in my room are soundproof,” he said as Ja’far looked back at him, slight uncertainty in his eyes before he nodded in acceptance. Sinbad quickly pushed Ja’far down his throat, bobbing faster than before. The simulation caused Ja’far to again thrust into Sinbad’s mouth against his will.


  Sinbad moaned, having grown used to the sensation and finding pleasurable. He subconsciously used one arm that had fallen from Ja’far’s thigh to rub his own erection, letting out more moans than before, that went straight to Ja’far’s cock.


  “Ugh~!” Ja’far moaned, “S-Sin! I’m close!” The words just encouraged Sinbad to suck faster, determined to send Ja’far over the edge. “S-Sin! I’m gonna-,”


  Ja’far cut himself off as pure ecstasy filtered into his system, and he came into Sinbad’s mouth. Sinbad swallowed as much as he could missing a small bit which ran down the side of his mouth. He licked it up quickly after removing his mouth, feeling quite proud that he managed to swallow it all.


  Sinbad looked at Ja’far with a slightly questioning look, wondering what to do next. Ja’far looked back at Sinbad and noticed the bulge that was present at his crotch. 

Chapter Text

Sinbad awoke with a familiar headache. His heat . He’d learnt to read the signs that his body showed when that time came around to haunt him. Everyone he knew thought his secondary gender was Alpha, but they couldn’t be more wrong. The king was an Omega , something that no one would ever have expected.


‘It’s earlier than the others, I wonder why..?’ Sinbad thought to himself. He’d have to quickly organise somewhere to go so he could wait out his heat cycle, though heat suppressants would work until then. He still had some from his last one, but the amount he had wouldn’t last him long and he’d have to work quickly.


The following day, Sinbad tried to organise a time to leave, but the effects on his body from his upcoming heat made it difficult. He refused to take any heat suppressants so they would last for longer, but having yet to be mated with any Alpha, even as a 30 year old man, seemed to speed up the heat process. 


With nothing else to do, Sinbad began to build a nest with his bedsheets because he was bored - plus, the idea of a nest seemed comfortable. He yawned and stretched, looking back at his messy but inviting nest. ‘It can’t be that bad to nest every once in a while, right?’ Sinbad thought. He never really gave in to his Omegan urges to build a nest before, but he sure as hell didn’t regret it.


‘It’s so soffftttttttt~,’ Sinbad thought with a smile as he cuddled into the small and warm space. He almost gave in to the urge to purr in satisfaction, but caught himself. ‘Oh shit. My heat’s creeping up on me already? I thought I’d learnt the signs!’


Sinbad begrudgingly got out of his nest to fetch the heat pills in his drawer. It was dark, but he could easily see the white screw-on lid labeled ‘HS’, standing for heat suppressants. He took them quickly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the pills sliding down his throat. 


Satisfied, Sinbad went back to his nest and undressed, as he did every night, heat or not, before climbing back into his nest and pulling a free blanket (that he had managed to convince himself not to use in his nest) over him and snuggled deeper into the soft wall of blankets and pillows. He fell asleep instantly.

Over a series of days, people noticed Sinbad gradually becoming more moody and sensitive. He’d always stick closely to Ja’far, an Alpha who acted like a typical Beta. Sinbad would often excuse himself and go to his room, then come back looking better than before. Still, none of them pieced the pieces together.


Until Ja’far found the empty pill bottle on Sinbad’s desk one day. The ex-assassin wasn’t stupid, he knew that kind of pill bottle. It was a bottle for heat suppressants. Something clicked. How Sinbad had been acting, the unusually messy sheets always looking like a disassembled blanket fort, sticking to Ja’far like glue more and more.


Sinbad was an Omega . And he’d been taking heat suppressants. Those things were dangerous, and especially to an unmated adult! The bottle was completely empty, meaning all of them had been taken.


The door clicked open and rushed steps made their way in. Ja’far turned around and saw Sinbad standing there, slightly flushed and seeming dazed. Surprised golden eyes locked onto black for a while, neither saying a thing.


“Sinbad,” Ja’far addressed, still firmly holding the bottle in his hand. He lifted it in front of Sinbad’s face. “What are these?”


“I-uh-um-,” Sinbad stuttered, knowing he was caught. He sighed. “Heat suppressants?” He answered, looking towards Ja’far with a gilty gleam in his eyes.


“And you have them, why?”


“I-Well, um-,”


“Tell me, Sin.” Ja’far commanded in his Alpha voice. He watched as Sinbad seemed to fight himself to not bow his head at the tone.


“I’m an Omega..?” Sinbad trailed off, not really knowing what to do now that his secret was out.


“Okay, now mind telling me why your pill bottle is empty !?”


“I used half of them during my last heat! I need to get new ones because I’m out!”


“Do you know the risks of these things!? Why don’t you just mate so heats won’t take such a toll on you!?”


“Yes, I know the risks, and you know how I am with the idea of mating! You keep pestering me with it!”


“If you know the risks, why take them!?”


Sinbad fell silent. Why had he gone to heat suppressants, anyway? He couldn’t remember at all. Ja’far sighed. “How long?”




“How long until your heat?”


“Well, I don’t exactly know…?


“What do you mean, you don’t know?


“My cycle has sped up a lot in comparison to my other heats, so I’m not exactly sure when it’s gonna happen…”


“Oh my god, Sin, you fool. You still haven’t mated with any Alpha, correct?”




“And your heat process has been speeding up?”




“Then you need to mate as soon as possible! It’s going to keep speeding up until the point where you’ll be kneeling at a random Alpha’s feet to mate you, and heat suppressants will become deadly!”


“... oh,”


“Yes, ‘oh’. This is a bad situation! You need to find yourself an Alpha as soon as possible. Who else knows?”


“Just you..?”


“How am I the only one to figure this out?”


“Well, you did find an empty bottle of heat suppressants on my desk, so that might help?”


“Oh my god, Sin.”



The next day, Sinbad never left his room. He was releasing Omegan pheromones at a rapid speed and if an Alpha came in they’d immediately know that it was an Omega about to enter heat. So, there he laid, shivering at the uncomfortable warmth in his abdomen, trying to ignore the fact that someone would probably come to find him. He sincerely hoped if it was anyone, it’d be Ja’far. He was strong and kind and-



Fuck. He was in heat. 


This honestly couldn’t get any worse. What was he supposed to do!? Goddamnit, where’s the advisor when you need him? Sinbad involuntarily let out a groan of discomfort as his body was hit with another wave of uncomfortable warmth.


“Sin?” A voice erupted from behind the door. Ja’far . Sinbad felt a rush of relief. He weakly got up, even as his body shook with the heat. He walked over as quickly as he could and opened the door, letting Ja’far quickly slip through the door before closing it again.


“God, Sin, your room smells entirely of Omegan pheromones! How close is your hea- oh my god, Sin, you look terrible!” Ja’far exclaimed when he turned around. Sinbad was leaning against the wall, panting heavily. There was sweat on his forehead and dribbling down his arms and his chest were completely flushed red.


“The heat…” Sinbad whispered, closing his eyes as he tried to not give in to the urge to run up to his alpha and beg to be knotted. His head was fuzzy, and being surrounded by his own heat pheromones as a constant reminder of his current state wasn’t helping. Suddenly, calming alpha pheromones reached his nose.


“Calm down, Sin,” Ja’far said, “you're hyperventilating. That’s not a good thing to do in a heat, you should know this.”


“Right, sorry Alpha,” Sinbad mumbled, unaware of the name that had slipped from his mouth. Ja’far, however, did. He froze, uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was so heavily affected by the addressal of his second gender.


“No need to apologise, Sinbad,” Ja’far replied. Sinbad walked back over to his bed shakily and flopped down, face-first into the pillow.


“Damn heat…” he groaned. He laid on his bed with some of his clothes riding up his calves, giving the Alpha a good look at the smooth skin. Just a little more… Ja’far found himself thinking as he felt an urge to stay and mate Sinbad then and there. Had Sinbad triggered his rut?


Ja’far went to the door, planning to leave, though those plans were quickly eradicated when Sinbad’s rough, needy voice reached his ears. “Alpha~.”


The King’s advisor froze for a moment, before locking the door and turning back around to gaze at his omega. Sinbad had already begun shedding his clothes thanks to the sauna of heat a heat brings to an omega. He was sweating heavily, and his long purple hair was messy and stuck to his head. Sinbad’s face was flushed bright red and his eyes were squeezed shut.


“Alpha~,” he groaned desperately. His heat was taking a heavy toll on his body and mind, his only thought was to be mated by his Alpha.

Chapter Text

  Sinbad was flirting with another girl. Again. That’s the seventh time this week; it’s only Monday! Which… is actually better than usual… Even so, Ja’far felt a bolt of jealousy shot through him as a tick mark formed on his forehead. He whipped out the strings on his arms hidden beneath his robes and threw them towards Sinbad, successfully getting them to loop around his neck.


  Sinbad froze for a second before excusing himself and walking away from the girl. His expression was… strange, to say the least. Almost submissive, if Ja’far really looked. There was a light blush on his cheeks and he avoided eye contact as much as he could. Ja’far quietly wondered if someone was imposing his king.


  “Ja’far~,” Sinbad whined, “What am I? Your dog?” The thought of Sinbad as an overexcited puppy almost made Ja’far lose his composure because he could definitely see that, and it was bloody adorable.


  “Well, you need a leash, so maybe,” Ja’far mumbled, tugging on the strings slightly in a beckoning movement. He did not miss the slight change in Sinbad’s expression, but it was gone before he could figure out what it was.


  “Can you not have it so tight, please? It’s gonna cut my neck open at this rate~” Sinbad continued to whine. Ja’far sighed and obliged, releasing the strings enough so they hung loosely around Sinbad’s neck. “Thank you,” Sinbad thanked, letting out a small sigh of relief.


  The walked back to the reception and headed to Sinbad’s room so Ja’far could release Sinbad; he didn’t trust him not to do something stupid anywhere else at nearly midnight. The two walked into the room and Sinbad looked torn between eager and disappointed to get the strings off of his neck. He reached for them slowly with curiosity.


  Ja’far yanked the strings, quickly tightening them around Sinbad’s neck with a clear ‘no touching’. Sinbad froze mid-grab and slowly looked between the red strings and Ja’far, his golden eyes seeming to glow in the dark room. He looked like he was trying to use his eyes to say “please don’t pull on that,”.


  Out of pure curiosity (and maybe a little bit of revenge), Ja’far pulled on his strings. Hard. It drew blood, he knew it would’ve, but that’s not what caught his attention. It was the expression of pleasure and strangled moan from Sinbad that got his full attention. After a few seconds, Sinbad seemed to realise the sound he just made.


  “I- Uh- what- I can explain- wait, hell, I can’t explain- um- you see-,” Sinbad stuttered, waving his hands about as he tried to hide his tomato-red face while carefully avoiding the string, as to not pull on it again. Ja’far saw this and felt an excited curiosity course through him.


  He pulled it again, harder this time, and again, he received a deep, choked moan from Sinbad. His hands fell uselessly to his sides as he turned to Ja’far with a pleading look in his eyes, a conflict between telling Ja’far to stop or to keep going. There was a shine of submissiveness in his eyes as he watched Ja’far.


  “Ja’far…” was all Sinbad was able to utter as his pupils dilated. He looked down at the string and stared at it momentarily before pulling on it and scrunching up his face as he repressed a moan. He released it and looked back at Ja’far with a look that said, “don’t be a coward, pull it.” And so he did.


  Sinbad let out a low moan, not taking his eyes off of Ja’far even as his head rolled back and they threatened to close. The room suddenly began to fill with the heavy scent of arousal, and Ja’far couldn’t tell if it was him, Sinbad, or the both of them that were causing the overwhelming scent, but he decided he liked smelling it in Sinbad’s room.


  “A-Ah~,” Sinbad moaned, closing one eye in submission as he moved his head in a way to allow Ja’far more access to his body. “C-Could you… Gah! Ha~,” Sinbad didn’t get to finish before he was cut off by Ja’far tugging violently on his strings. “Hah~ again~,” Sinbad moaned desperately. His eyes rolled into the back of his head with pleasure as Ja’far did as told.


  “Wow, Sinbad… who knew you could be this submissive?” Ja’far asked, walking tauntingly slowly towards Sinbad, loosening the strings in doing so. Sinbad whined at the loss of the pressure around his neck that he enjoyed oh-so-much. Ja’far looked at Sinbad’s neck; it was bleeding and his wounds were deep, but he didn’t seem to care as he looked at Ja’far pleadingly.


  “Only for you, Ja’far,” Sinbad smirked, slowly going back into normal Sinbad mode, despite the fact that the scent of arousal still filled the air and Sinbad’s eyes still had a gleam of submissive lust in them. Ja’far finally reached Sinbad and reached towards the king’s neck. Said king seemed to realise what Ja’far was doing and tilted his head so the ex-assassin could have more room to examine.


  Ja’far lightly pressed his finger on the edge of the wound and trailed down to where it faded off, earning a pleasured shiver from the taller man. He wanted to get rid of the blood, though, so, he did the only thing he could think of; he lowered his head to Sinbad’s neck and sucked at the wound slowly, earning a softer but still loud moan from his king. 


  He softly licked up the blood dripping from the injury, receiving another soft chorus of moans from the larger man. Ja’far shyly used his legs to trap Sinbad between himself and the bed before pushing lightly on his chest.



Chapter Text

Sinbad noticed every time Ja'far glanced towards him, a light shine of lust in his eyes. Sinbad knew the look well; something he commonly saw on women and some men he had come across. The king of Sindria hadn’t been bothered by those stares when they came from strangers, but coming from Ja’far made Sinbad feel weird whenever he thought about it. He did not understand what it was. 


And that knowledge that he didn’t know what Ja’far was doing to him put Sinbad on edge.


So he sat there, on his bed, holding his chin in his palm and stared at the wall accusingly, as if it had done something wrong, as he tried to figure out what was wrong with him. He fell back onto his pillows with a groan of defeat. “It’s too late to be thinking~,” he whined childishly.


He blinked. “Hell~ I’m not tired in the least!” He pouted, looking at the roof. “Ugh, may as well do that paperwork.”


Sinbad sat down at the table, quill in hand and stared at the scroll, racking his brain for answers, but his mind was too occupied with Ja’far. How his deep grey eyes dilated slightly when his eyes laid upon familiar long purple hair, how graceful he moved in the long billowing robes that concealed two sharp arrows on blood red strings. The gorgeous white hair and adorable freckles-


Sinbad blinked.


Fuck. He thought to himself. What was he doing? Thinking about Ja’far like that… wait, why was he even in denial? Confusion ran in Sinbad’s mind like an untamed sea.


He blinked again. Then looked at the sheet. Then at the wall on the other side of the room. His brain stopped working, even as he tried to make sense of what was happening that he couldn’t wrap his head around.


The door creaked and light peeked through the opening, causing Sinbad to turn his head towards it. Ja’far slipped in quietly and closed the door behind him. “Hello Sin.” He greeted, inclining his head respectfully.


“Hey Ja’far, what brings you here?” Sinbad asked, quickly moving from the untouched scroll on the table to get up. Suddenly a dull throb was felt in Sinbad’s head that caused him to physically cringe at the unfamiliar sensation. Before he knew it, Ja’far was at his side, asking him what was wrong.


The smaller man’s questions fell on deaf ears as the throbbing worsened, causing the older to grit his teeth and screw his eyes shut. He could tell his body was shutting down, he didn’t know why, but it was. “Ja’far…” he moaned in pain, “bed, please…”


Ja’far seemed to understand and quickly guided the king to his bed, laying him down as best he could. He went to leave to see if there was any medicine, when a large, tanned hand grabbed onto his thin, pale forearm. “Don’t… go…” the king whined quietly, his eyes begging and his brain foggy from the crushing migraine.


Ja’far paused and looked at the kings pleading face for a moment before sighing and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Fine,” Ja’far answered. Sinbad’s face lit up in a way similar to an overexcited kid.


Two strong arms suddenly wrapped around Ja’far and pulled him towards Sinbad. The older man’s arms were secured tightly around the younger’s slim waist, not giving any chance for him to escape. “Wha-!? Sinbad! Let go of me!” Ja’far yelped in surprise.


“No,” Sinbad mumbled into Ja’far’s hair, hugging him impossibly further. Ja’far blinked before accepting his fate, knowing there was no way to escape a tired Sinbad’s clutches. The aforementioned man grumbled something that sounded somewhat possessive quietly that Ja’far couldn’t quite catch.


“What was that, Sin?” He asked, turning around to face Sinbad, only to be greeted with a loosely clothed chest which seemed to refuse to hide from Ja’far’s line of sight. The smaller man curled up into a ball, his knees to Sinbad’s thighs, his arms to his own torso, and his head resting against Sinbad’s chest.


“Mine,” Sinbad growled tiredly. Ja’far observed the way Sinbad’s chest rose and fell with every breath. Sinbad’s arms pulled Ja’far into himself, forcing the smaller man to move his hands to his chest and slide his legs back so they were straight. Ja’far’s body was flush against Sinbad’s own, yet the king seemed insistent on pulling the smaller in further, as if loosening his arms meant losing Ja’far.


“Yours?” Ja’far questioned, having finally realised what the answer was. Sinbad nodded wordlessly with a… was that a growl? That was an actual growl. King Sinbad of Sindria can growl. How on earth does that even work-?


Ja’far noticed how Sinbad’s breathing evened out, indicating he’d fallen asleep. He sighed; no one could keep Sinbad from sleep. If he was tired, he’d fall asleep. He didn’t do it often, but when it was just Ja’far and Sinbad, if he had a rough sleep the previous night, he’d fall dead asleep in the middle of one of Ja’far’s lectures, who would always have mixed feelings in the matter after dragging him back to his bed.


The sleeping man curled into Ja’far slightly, moving his head between the smaller man’s head and shoulder. Ja’far’s breathing sped up, unsure what to do as Sinbad’s warm breath spread pleasurably over his neck and shoulder blades. He shivered at the sensation and tried to turn around so he was facing away from Sinbad, but his arms were flat against the others chest and he didn’t want to wake the king already.


Ja’far sighed and accepted his fate. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body into Sinbad’s warmth with only a slight hesitation.



Sinbad was the first to wake up and opened his eyes groggily. He noticed the small ball of warmth in his chest and looked down to see familiar white hair flat against his chest. ‘Ja’far? What’s he doing here?’ Sinbad grumbled silently. Fuzzy memories of the previous night came back to him.


Oh yeah, I had a migraine after Ja’far came in... though the rest is fuzzy.’ Sinbad thought groggily, unwrapping himself from the smaller body and slipping out of the sheets, taking care not to jostle the workaholic out of what seemed to be a very comfortable sleep.


Sinbad could still feel the reminisce of the migraine and felt sick, but it was better than before. So, he got dressed, and, like he had previously, walked over to his table with lack of a better thing to do, as he wasn’t hungry for breakfast, and began to work on the scrolls.


The quiet groan went unnoticed by the king as he focused on his work as best he could as his constantly spinning mind would let him, and was a little startled when his name was called. “Sin?” Ja’far mumbled tiredly, having finally woken up.


“Mornin’ Ja’far,” Sinbad smiled, “comfortable?” He teased. Ja’far looked down and realised his clothes had slipped over his shoulder and hung loosely, revealing most of his left collarbone. The smaller man squeaked and pulled it back over his shoulder.


“What happened? My memory is clear as mud right now,” Sinbad groaned, throwing his head backwards to face the roof dramatically. Ja’far took note of the almost finished paperwork on the desk and the quill in Sinbad’s hand.


“Are you… doing your work?” Ja’far asked awedly, surprised. Sinbad lifted his head back up to look at Ja’far.


“I’m not hungry and have nothing else to do~, so I thought I may as well do the work that’s been taunting me since forever ,” Sinbad exaggerated, a smirk spread on his face.


“Who are you and what have you done with the Womanizer of the Seven Seas?” Ja’far asked, putting his hand on his hip smugly at his joke. Sinbad pouted.


“Aww, I’m not that bad!”


“Yes. Yes you are.”


Sinbad pouted further before getting up from his seat and walking over Ja’far. “You’re mean~,” he whined.


“And you’re oddly childish today,” Ja’far responded smoothly, looking away. Sinbad watched as the smaller male’s eyes reflected the light entering his room and soaked into Ja’far’s pale skin. He seemed to glow under the morning light and it was captivating. Pretty, even.


Sinbad teared his gaze away, acutely aware of the warmth climbing up his neck. He needed to be alone so he could sort his thoughts out. “You should go have breakfast, I don’t think I remember you ever entering the kitchen or dining hall for food last night.”


Ja’far looked up, seeming surprised Sinbad noticed, before getting up and quickly leaving to get some food. Sinbad quickly closed the door behind the smaller male and waited a few moments before sliding down it.


(He’s having a gay panic attack, people!)


He held his head in his hands. What was going on!? These thoughts plagued his mind and he didn’t know what to do about them! They made him feel weird in the stomach, usually described as butterflies if he recalled correctly. He felt the heat on his cheeks as he held them to his palms and groaned.


“This has never happened to me before,” he pouted.

Chapter Text

Sinbad never expected this. Nothing in a million years could’ve let him even begin to expect this. But when Sinbad saw the white flower blooming from his chest, just above his heart, he realised he should’ve seen it coming a mile away.


Hanahaki disease .


A disease that was rare, but common knowledge in Sindria, as Sinbad had seen fit to educate each and every one of his citizens about the love-induced, deadly disease. How was he to know he’d get it?


“No one can know about this,” he whispered to himself as he got ready to avoid work for the day. Fixing his headpiece one last time, he nodded to himself and left his room, only to come face-to-face with his right-hand man, Ja’far.


“No one can know about what, Sin?” Ja’far asked septically. Sinbad gulped - this is not something he had confidence in talking about, especially not right now.


“I- um-,” great start, Sinbad, greeeeeaaaat start. “Nothing?” Oh, how he hated the hesitation in his own voice, but the piercing gaze locked on him affected him more than he’d like to admit.


“You’re really bad at lying today,” Ja’far remarked, sighing. He absentmindedly fixed a piece of Sinbad’s jewellery that had been jostled out of place and was giving the smaller male OCD.


Sinbad hoped that he was keeping his blush below his neck as Ja’far’s slim fingers ghosted over the cloth of his outfit. He felt the flower embedded in his chest grow slightly, and it hurt . Thank the friggin’ gods he had been stabbed and tortured and all those other wonderful things before this, otherwise he may not have been able to play it off so well.


“And your ears are just as sharp as ever,” Sinbad grumbled to himself quietly. The corners of Ja’far’s lips kinked up slightly, indicating he was trying to suppress a grin. Or maybe a scowl, but Sinbad really hoped it was a grin. He looked much cuter like that.


“I’ll take that as a complement,” Ja’far stated, checking over the jewellery once more before looking Sinbad in the eyes once again.


“It was,” Sinbad sighed, closing his eyes, turning his head away and crossing his arms across his chest. Ja’far seemed a little surprised by the comment but quickly slipped back into ‘I’m-going-to-make-you-sign-these-scrolls-or-else’ mode.


“Anyway,” he began, “you have scrolls to sign, go read them over and sign them, you’ve been procrastinating more than usual.”


“Yes, thank you dearest,” Sinbad teased sarcastically, reluctantly taking the scrolls. He began flicking his eyes over them. There was… significantly less there than usual. “Ja’far,” he began, his voice deep and stern. There were always more scrolls than this. Ja’far either skipped out on work - highly unlikely - or he stayed up late to do it.


That would explain the light eyebags, then.


“Yes, Sin?” Ja’far replied, still unfamiliar with the king's commanding tone being directed towards him. He shrunk back slightly when he noticed Sinbad’s golden eyes alive with seriousness.


“Go. To. Sleep. Now,” the taller male commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “You stayed up late again, didn’t you?”


Ja’far opted to remain quiet. He had stayed up late to finish those scrolls, but he hadn’t thought his king would pick up on it. Though, said man was much more observant than he seemed, and it was easy to forget.


“I am taking you to your room. I know what you’re like,” Sinbad mumbled, already beckoning his advisor to follow him to Ja’far’s room. Ja’far sighed, knowing that there was absolutely no way out of this today - he could already tell the king was having one of his really stubborn days. With luck, he might actually get some work done. It was rare, but not impossible.


The two walked down the hall silently, Ja’far occasionally glancing at Sinbad’s face before looking in front of him again. The purple-haired man’s face was steeled and unexpressive, unless they walked past someone, when his face would instantly relax as he wished them a good morning before going back to its original position.


It constantly amazed Ja’far, the scale of emotions Sinbad had, and how fast he could flicker through them.

Chapter Text

Sinbad was surprised he had never gotten himself drunk enough to spill everything he hid under his smile - a lot. He’d never drink enough to get him mindlessly drunk, his secrets were secrets for a reason and he really didn’t want to crack. He still held the guilt from everything when he was young, it weighed in his chest like a rock.


One day, Sinbad started wondering why he had even begun to dream of his country, then he remembered; peace, equality, and safety for his people. He’d achieved that now, so now what? He’d always been guided by the Rukh and fate, but he no longer felt as if he had a destiny to fulfill - he’d already done that. He could watch over Alibaba and his friends, but he knew he wasn’t exactly helpful in that department.


He felt useless. There was nothing left to do, fate was on the right track and he needn’t intervene. Of course, there were still threats to Sindria, but they were usually dealt with easily by his generals. Al Taimen, though, was another issue entirely, and disappearing suddenly wouldn’t be good news for his citizens. He’d just have to lift his chin up and smile.




Keeping a smile wasn’t as easy as he thought. He laid down on his bed and began to think. There were many instances where he felt his mask slip from his features and had one of his generals ask him what’s wrong. He’d shake it off with an ‘I’m fine, your eyes must be playing tricks on you’, but he was certain they suspected something. His head continuously ached, the throb becoming more and more unbearable, when a voice entered his mind.


‘You’re stupid,’ it sneered. ‘You really think that you can keep this country going? Ha! What a joke.’


“Who the hell are you?” Sinbad asked quietly, rolling onto his side and snuggling into his pillow, making an effort to ignore the strange voice manipulating his thoughts.


‘Just the part of you that’s honest.’ It replied, ‘You’re useless and weak. You’ve sacrificed others for your own gain, using them as stepping stones to get where you are now. And yet, even your closest friends don’t know of your wicked deeds. Do they really care?’


“Of course they care,” Sinbad grumbled into his pillow.


‘But do they? They never ask how you’re doing, and they only talk to you when necessary. Tell me, are you sure they really care about you? Or are they just pretending? Tell me, Sinbad, tell me. Why are you so sure?’


Sinbad fell silent - the voice was right. Did his generals really care…?


‘What am I thinking!? Of course they do! They swore loyalty to me and have been my closest friends ever since! I never should’ve even started to doubt them!’ Sinbad thought suddenly. The strange voice fell silent for the remainder of the night.




Days passed and Sinbad forgot about the voice, passing it off as a bad dream. He continued to work (more like avoid it) and protect his country. Yet those negative words refused to stop swirling in his mind; was he really a good king? Did his citizens really trust him as much as he thought? Did his generals really care? Was he really worth those who died for his sake? 


He’d had enough of the stress.


The doubt.


The guilt.


The fear.


Life .


He didn’t want to be here.


He didn’t want to deal with everything that built up until this time.


He wanted to join his mother and father, among the Rukh.


He was useless anyway.


Who would care?


Who would cry?


Who would even give a damn ?


Sinbad couldn’t think of one name to answer his questions. So, he decided.


He’d be gone with the Rukh by dawn.




Ja’far had noticed the king’s strange behaviour lately, and it worries him. But Sinbad said he was fine. Surely Sin would confide in Ja’far if he needed to… right? Yet, Sinbad’s behaviour slowly changed, and eyebags started appearing, mostly hidden by makeup, and not once did he turn to Ja’far


He had excused himself early at dinner, which strangely consisted mainly of alcohol, and gone to the kitchen before going back to his room with a bottle of some kind. Ja’far knew that sometimes Sinbad would take sleep medication, so he shrugged it off.


But he couldn’t shake the premonition of something bad in the back of his mind.




Sinbad looked at the bottle. It wasn’t labeled - he’d scratched it off before, but he remembered it as a poison of some type. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed it - he thought it would’ve smelt terrible, but it was strangely sweet. He smiled slightly. Finally free.


He felt the second thoughts entering his mind, so he pulled the bottle up to his lips and threw his head back. He felt it slide down his throat. He noticed it was denser than water, so it was a little hard to swallow, but he managed. Sinbad screwed the lid back on and put it on his desk.


He lifted his bedsheets and hopped into his bed, feeling happier than ever.


Finally free.




Apparently, the way out wasn’t a simple one.


Sinbad woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air and sweating up a storm. He coughed violently, tears sprung to his eyes, and his stomach began to give the illusion it was tearing itself up from inside. He shot up and moved to the edge of his bed, clutching his gut. He used all of his self control to not yelp in pain from his newfound migraine.


Tears trailed down his cheeks. Everything hurt . He just wanted to have passed quietly overnight, was that really so much to ask? He fell roughly from his bed onto his knees on the floor, one hand holding him up on the floor and the other clutching his stomach. Saliva began to build in his mouth and try as he might, he couldn’t swallow it. Sinbad’s eyes widened as the sensation crept up on him and he threw up.


Sinbad, muddled and confused, fell into small sobs until he found he couldn’t breathe. ‘No’ , he thought, ‘you’ll be free, Sinbad, stop being a wimp and let it happen.’


With that thought in mind, Sinbad crawled back into bed, feeling worse than ever. He coughed again, but this time hacking up blood. Then his body calmed right down. It just… stopped. He no longer felt terrible.


On a whim, Sinbad went and grabbed the bottle, reading the back label (which he didn’t get rid of). It was a poison that worked over time. ‘ Well great. Just fucking great. Looks like I’ll be alive for a bit longer yet ,’ Sinbad thought darkly, getting a cloth to clean up his vomit before going back to sleep.




Sinbad woke up without the will to do anything, but without the will to refuse anything, either. He sighed; why couldn’t he have just passed quietly overnight? It would’ve been much preferable. His chest ached and he felt undeniably drowsy and lethargic. He could feeling his shallow breathing and his forehead was burning, and he felt like curling up into a ball right then and there.


Nevertheless, he stood up, swaying slightly for a moment before he regained his balance, and got ready, soon walking outside. The bright light that hit his face caused him to flinch away a little before he regained his composure and continued to the dining hall. Actually, he wasn’t all that hungry.


Sinbad sighed and walked back to his room, unaware of the smaller male following him.




Ja’far had noticed Sinbad acting weird during the morning. Most wouldn’t have picked it up, but thanks to his years as an assassin he noticed. The slight dilation of golden pupils, the paleness of his tanned skin, his poor coordination, the swaying. He looked like death on two legs. Still, Ja’far remained silent.


That was, until Sinbad clutched his head tightly and began falling. He had fainted.

Chapter Text

A tall man with a familiar shade of purple hair was hurried into the castle by a suspicious Ja’far and Masrur. He was treated gently, as everyone was in Sindria, as he was taken to the throne room. To Ja’far’s expectation, there was no king in sight. “Sir? You can stay here with Masrur, I’m going to get someone,” Ja’far said, walking away hastily.


The purple-haired man nodded and took in the scenery. The room was large with an oversized throne in the center of it. Ja’far left the room faster than the man had expected, but he didn’t really expect to be taken to the castle after being seen by the freckled man who’d noticed him.


Ja’far walked straight to Sinbad’s room and walked in. “Sin! We have a guest and he looks a lot like you!” He announced. Sinbad’s head snapped up at the description, which Ja’far took notice of. He stood from his desk and immediately headed to the door.


“Did he introduce himself?” Sinbad asked, resting his hand on the doorframe and glancing over his shoulder. Ja’far nodded.


“He said his name was Badr, why?” the younger man asked. Sinbad didn’t respond, but the wide excited smile that spread across his lips didn’t go unnoticed before he looked away.


“I… know him. I would like to talk to him alone if I could, Ja’far,” Sinbad said shakily, his voice a slightly higher pitch than normal. Ja’far nodded and traveled back to the throne room to collect Masrur. He entered quickly, noting the look of awe in the foreign man’s amber eyes.


“Masrur, he is going to speak with Badr alone,” Ja’far stated, ushering Masrur out of the room quickly. The two left out the door and exchanged a glance with Sinbad before continuing down the hall.


Sinbad took a breath, not quite believing what he’d heard, but then again, he never talked about his father to anyone, so how should they be able to impersonate him? After arguing with himself in his head for about five minutes, Sinbad steeled himself and walked in.


The other man locked eyes with Sinbad, and they both immediately knew the other. “Papa?” Sinbad muttered, disbelief written clearly in his wide eyes and slack jaw. 


“Sin?” The man responded in a twined tone. Sinbad’s expression brightened considerably as he started towards the man. Small tears of happiness sprung to his eyes as his feet sped up beneath him.


“Papa!” Sinbad repeated, almost throwing himself into a hug. He didn’t care how or why his dad was here, he was just happy that he wasn’t dead anymore. “I-I thought you had died in the war!”


“Died in the war? Is that what they told you?” Sinbad’s father, Badr, asked quietly as he returned his son’s hug. He felt Sinbad nod next to his head and felt anger consume them. “Those lying military bastards! They couldn’t find me so they pronounced me dead!”


“I still have your sword,” Sinbad whispered, unaware of the tears rolling down his cheeks. “It was sent home in an empty casket with a notice of your death.”


Badr pulled Sinbad off of himself to get a better look at his features, only to notice him silently crying. “Sin? Why are you crying?”


Sinbad flinched upwards slightly and brought his hand to his cheek, finally noticing the salty tears training down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away. “Sorry… I just can’t believe that… you’re alive , and it’s even harder to believe you’re right in front of me!” He hiccuped, still trying to frantically wipe away his tears.


“You should sit,” Sinbad stated suddenly. Badr’s eyes widened with surprise.


“But there’s no seats here?”


“But one,”


“That’s the kings throne!”




“Won’t he behead you?”




“Are you sure?”




“How sure?”


“Papa, I don’t think I can behead myself, I am the king,”



Chapter Text

d, annoyed at the world. He just wanted Ja’far, but he was filling in for something else in a different country so Sinbad had to do all his work alone.


He forgot about his ‘harem’ when he went to the small party that was being held, feeling less enthusiastic than usual. The girls were very concerned. While they were used to poorer treatment with other people, Sinbad was gentle every time he held them or hugged them. 


They were some of the few people that he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around, he never forced them into anything and let them have their own relationships and a few of the girls weren’t even attracted to men. Despite consistently being labelled as a harem, none of them - Sinbad or the girls - thought of themselves as that. Sinbad was naturally flirty and touchy, but that was as far as it went.


They were more Sinbad’s female friends that he could confide in for unpolitic matters.


Such as Sinbad’s crush.


Regardless of popular opinion and being said to be a god in bed, Sinbad was homosexual, and had never dominated another being. Nor had he been dominated. He, despite his age and reputation, was still virgin. Only the girls knew this, not even the generals did.


In a way, Sinbad saw his so-called ‘harem’ as the sisters he never had. He loved them strongly, but platonically. No one else seemed to realise that. 


Honestly, Sinbad wished he could just shout that he was gay to the world, but the pressure of always being told he needed a wife stopped him. Why not a husband? Or just a significant other to share the weight of royalty? Why was it always insisted that they had to be female ? He wanted to marry for love, not for appearances.


But every time he worked up the confidence it was torn down again, unintentionally, by the one he wanted to tell the most, Ja’far. So he gave up. Everyone assumed he was straight, or bisexual at best. He always turned to his non-blood sisters to confide in them, and they all supported him as much as they could. It always gave Sinbad a little more courage, and, not that many notice, but his smile would be much more relaxed the following day.


So when Sinbad seemed to forget about them - distress clearly on his face, yet only they seemed to notice - it was strange, he only ever seemed to attract attention, but he seemed to be devoid of it just as well, and they were concerned. 


“Sinbad?” One of the girls whispered to the king. She received a distracted grunt of question. “Are you okay? You look distant.”


“Hm? Oh, sorry. I’m fine, I just miss Ja’far. It’s so different without him next to me and I don’t know what to do,” Sinbad explained, swirling the wine in his glass around, glaring at it slightly. Ja’far might come home early, and he didn’t exactly want to be hung over when that happened.


“You’re absolutely smitten with him, aren’t you?” Another girl grinned softly, leaning on the back of Sinbad’s chair. The king smiled weakly, placing his glass back on the table and looking up a little, staring at the unoccupied chair beside him.


“Yeah. I guess I am.”