Magi Oneshots

Masrur || Save This Slave ||

//SIDE NOTE: I fuckin understand Masrur has fuckin kids and shit, not everyone has to remind me, so please, for my sanity, don't put in the comments: aHEM ACTUALLY he--

I FUCKIN UNDERSTAND THAT. I've gotten comments like that about Hinahoho as well.

WHAT DO YOU WANT? THIS IS A ONESHOT BOOK. THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE NOT REAL. DON'T ACT LIKE I'M DESTROYING THE SERIES BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO MAKE SOME PEOPLE HAPPY BY LETTING THEM LOVE THEIR FAVORITE CHARACTER IN A STORY. 

I'm sorry, but I'm really fed up with some people, and today's been a sucky day so far. //

"King Sinbad?" a guard asked meekly, interrupting a small conversation between the king, Ja'far, and Masrur. The three turned to look at the man who was pale and uncomfortable. "There's . . . whoever sent . . . they called what they sent a gift." The guard closed his eyes and shook his head. 

"Is everything alright?" Sinbad asked, raising an eyebrow. "A gift? What is it?" he asked. 

"A girl," the guard returned, gulping and shaking his head again. Ja'far's eyes widened and he looked to Sinbad and Masrur who quickly turned agitated and angry looking. "They sent a slave, my king."

"Bring her in here," Sinbad demanded. Quickly, the guard turned and ran out, and he came back with another guard who was gently escorting a young woman with a blank look on her face. The sounds of metal clanking echoed in the room as the chains she wore were dragged across the floor. The guards were torn whether they should take off her chains or not. Maybe it was a trap, and she was merely acting, but she looked so broken to be an actress. "Take off her chains," Sinbad said, tone dark and angry. 

The guards nodded and quickly began to try and find a weak spot to break the metal, but they stopped when Masrur walked between them and began breaking her chains with his hands. The girl looked terrified as he reached up to her neck to break the collar around her, but Masrur's face softened and he muttered something to her. The girl nodded slightly and closed her eyes, still trembling, but Masrur broke the collar from her neck and picked her up in his arms. 

The girl felt around her neck and tears welled in her eyes as Masrur walked to Sinbad and helped her stay standing. "What is your name?" Sinbad asked kindly, voice gentle and caring. 

"(Y/N)," the woman answered weakly. She looked around at them and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'm so tired," she whispered, voice shaking. 

"Let her rest," Sinbad said, nodding to Masrur. Sinbad looked back to (Y/N) and said, "(Y/N), you are not a slave in my country. I myself and several of my friends," he motioned to Masrur, "have known what it is like to be a slave. You are safe now. Masrur, take her to a vacant room."

~  ~  ~

Masrur took her to a cozy and warm room and helped (Y/N) onto a bed. She hadn't felt a mattress under her body in so, so, so long she felt like crying again, but no tears came. She was exhausted to the point of falling over, but Masrur kept her up with his big and strong hands. (Y/N) closed her eyes for a few moments and opened them back up, and she saw Masrur with a small bowl and a cloth. Confused, (Y/N) squinted. How had he gotten that stuff so quickly.

"You fell asleep sitting up," Masrur said in his deep voice, practically reading her mind. He took one of her hands gentle in his hand as he knelt by the bed, and he bushed the wet cloth over the sores on her wrists. Whatever was on the damp cloth was cold and refreshing, but it made (Y/N) shiver. "How long?" Masrur asked after several minutes of silence. 

"Fifteen years," (Y/N) returned, knowing what he was asking. Masrur nodded and stood up. (Y/N) felt his gaze on her was blank and cold, but she wasn't uncomfortable; just tired. Extremely tired.