Your Destiny Lies In Your Hands~
Aladdin! Toshinori Yagi x Genie! Male Reader
Request From: @midnightking24
Synopsis: (Name) has been a coveted tool for the selfish desires of men for as long as he can remember. He likes to think he's come to terms with it and made the best of his situation, but more often than not, it feels as if he's just fooling himself. He doesn't expect much from this new master of his: power, money, destruction, and the like. It's all the same in the end, as greed corrupts the soul. He doesn't expect to be proven wrong, nor does he expect Toshinori to capture his heart.
Content Warnings: Male Reader. Alternating POV's. No Use of Y/N or M/N. Minor Themes of Abuse and Exploitation (Not From Toshinori). Mentions of (Name)'s Past Masters Being Assholes. (Name)'s Creators Really Gave Him the Short End of the Stick (Slavery). (Name) is Kinda Two-Faced But He Has Good Reason To Be. Gay People Being Gay and Stupid. Brief Meta Dialogue That Comes With Genie Territory.
A/N: My first fic request! And an awesome one to boot!
Edit: I feel like I just fought God and got my ass handed to me, but somehow managed to come out victorious. Forgive me if there's some mischaracterization; I did my best to stay true to the canon personality because Toshinori Yagi/All Might is such a genuinely amazing character, and I really wanted to do him justice.
Still, this was really fun to write, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did!
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊⊱·✶·⊰₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵
One would assume that being born with phenomenal cosmic power would be the gig of a lifetime. The world was at your fingertips, literally, if you so wished it.
Unfortunately, the Powers-That-Be decided that instead of an existence spent sipping piña coladas, living it up free, and playing the cosmic version of ding-dong ditch with the celestial realm was an affront to the grand design. So, (Name), Djinn of the Dawn, became (Name), Genie of the Lamp, forced to serve the whims of the mortals daring enough—or foolish enough—to seek him out, regardless of their character.
It was supposed to teach him some presumed "humility" and "respect" for the immense power he wielded. But all he's learned since his imprisonment is that people suck harder than silly straws, and gods somehow have the worst foresight imaginable.
Clearly, they had all underestimated the extent to which mortals would go to get their way, which was to any extreme.
(Name) had admittedly been guilty of this in the past. At the beginning of his internment, he had held out hope that perhaps, one day, someone would be kind enough to release him from his captivity, and if not that, then use his power to better the world he had once gazed down upon from the heavens above.
That hope had quickly dwindled.
Each hand that he was passed to was worse than the last. Awe turned to Opportunity. Graciousness turned to Entitlement. Partnership turned to Servitude.
He was nothing more than an object, endlessly shoved back into its box the moment he wasn't serving a purpose. Tossed aside, he was berated and condemned whenever he dared to speak or act in any way that didn't align with the rigid expectations forced upon him.
Every moment, he was helpless, silent to witness as they unleashed death and suffering upon anyone they deemed deserving. He could never speak against them, could never refuse to lend them his spirit or strength lest he be taught that obedience lesson with pain. His power, his very existence, was no longer his to command; it had become a vassal for their cruelty, a chain that choked and bound him to their oppressive will.
He hated it. He hated THEM. It felt as if those feelings were the last things that were truly his own to control, so he clung to them. He clung to that pain and resentment and let it guide him, let it lead him to his escape.
(Name) allowed himself to smile as his former master's once-gleaming palace, conjured by his own hand, was burned to the ground by those he had once scorned and tormented with his wealth and power, relishing in the terror on his face as all the possessions he once held dear—now useless to him as he faced the mob of karmic retribution—were tossed into the sea, alongside his most prized possession as (Name) allowed himself to be dragged back into his lamp in a show of glimmering dust.
——————————————————————————
If he was being honest with himself, (Name) didn't mind the ten thousand years he'd spent floating through the vast ocean blue.
Admittedly, there wasn't much to do..
Sure, he could conjure things within his lamp, and the interior of his lamp basically took the form of a lavish suite, so things could be worse. Plus, he had himself for company, and he always appreciated his work and laughed at his jokes, unlike some people!
Alright, who was he kidding? He was so goddamn lonely!
It was pitiful, honestly. Humans had done nothing but use him as a means to an end, and here he was, longing for their companionship. Had he not learned anything?
Perhaps he was being too harsh, too quick to judge. Not all of them were cruel; there had been some who truly cared, who showed genuine sympathy for his plight. Some had used their three wishes selflessly. Even if they never freed him, he could feel the kindness behind their actions, the wounds they carried for others' sake. And when they finally said their goodbyes, he couldn’t find it within himself to be bitter about it.
Didn't mean he didn't complain about it, though.
Still, even if he's ever found, even if his new master ends up being as despicable as his last, (Name) hoped that he'd at least get to see the sun again. The ocean was beautiful, but after ten millennia trapped beneath the waves, it had become a restless sight.
Maybe, even if just for a second, he could pretend that freedom awaited him beyond this.
Little did he know what fate had in store.
——————————————————————————
(Name) knew something was off the moment he woke up to warmth and stagnation. The ocean was a constant wave—pun intended—of motion and even on hot days there was always a sense of coolness to be found when his lamp drifted in its depths. As such, he knew instinctively that he'd reached land.
"Well, I'll be damned..." He muttered to himself. After so many years at sea, he had almost given up hope of ever feeling the sun again, let alone washing ashore.
He attempted to expand his senses to determine his exact location, but all he could gather was that he was on a beach. Being imprisoned within an oil lamp presented several challenges, disregarding the obvious fact of being imprisoned within a goddamn oil lamp in the first place. The lamp served both as an extension of himself and as his prison, though it had its limitations when it came to perceiving his surroundings.
He was just about to give up when he felt his lamp and, in turn, himself being picked up—not just picked up, but lifted by human hands, rough fingertips gliding against the metallic handle. A flicker of hope sprang to life in his chest.
Only to be dashed as he was swiftly tossed into what he could only assume was a bag of similar wares and then thrown into the back of a cart.
Just his luck to be picked up by a scavenger and likely sold to the highest bidder…
He'd, admittedly, zoned out after that, the dread of being deprived of his autonomy and used to commit horrific acts once again overpowering his fragile happiness at the prospect of being allowed out of the lamp.
Probably not his brightest idea to dissociate from his surroundings, but at this point, his give-a-fuck levels were so low in the negatives he was certain they now rested beneath hell itself.
It was only when he found himself suddenly being jostled that he thought to refocus his attention.
"H-Hey! Stop, thief! Guards!" Some unfamiliar and ultimately forgettable voice shouted as (Name) suddenly felt his lamp being jostled and clinking against the other objects in the bag holding him hostage.
Ah. It seems like a robbery was taking place. More specifically, he was one of the things being stolen. How nostalgic.
Not a great start to his day, but it could be worse! It could ALWAYS be worse.
"Sorry!" A fresh, much younger-sounding voice called back, breathless with actual, genuine remorse.
Strange.. (Name) had never met a thief who apologized for stealing. Maybe this guy had been roughed up by the guards a few too many times.
The air was filled with shouting until it gradually thinned out, fading into distant echoes until only hollow silence prevailed. The only sounds remaining were the heavy breaths of the thief with the youthful voice, who was now clutching the satchel holding his lamp.
"Alright.. Let's see what we've got."
(Name) let out an unconscious grunt as he was suddenly plucked out of the satchel, hands—surprisingly nice hands—turning over his lamp and tracing along his engravings.
"Huh. That old merchant really was looking to sell this, huh? Doesn't look like much."
Wow. Rude. He'd like to see this unemployed bozo be in his position and try to maintain a decent-looking lamp after floating in the ocean for generations without a master.
(Name) didn't have the luxury of lingering on his offense, not when he felt those hands begin to rub at his lamp. An electrifying surge raced through his veins as that familiar sensation pulled him unrelentingly from the confines of his container.
He could do nothing but let out a sigh, resignation flooded his heart and took hold of him completely as he prepared his entrance.
"Here we go again, I guess."
——————————————————————————
Toshinori Yagi was born into hardship—an orphan, a street rat, a reluctant thief in the Sultanate of Hosu clawing his way through a world that offered him nothing but struggle. So when he felt everyone was out to get him, his feelings weren't entirely unfounded.
He didn't enjoy stealing. He didn't like breaking the law. He had always had a profound sense of right and wrong, even when it got him into more trouble than anything, and sometimes left him going to bed hungry after giving whatever food he had managed to scrounge up to the alley kids.
But he didn't have a formal education, he was weak, he didn't have any useful skills, and nobody would hire him because he was nothing more than a dirt-poor orphan, so there weren't exactly any other alternatives.
And he only ever stole what he couldn't afford… which was everything, but still! He'd never stolen anything just for the sake of stealing it; all he ever asked for in life was the necessities, and he still had to fight tooth and nail for them!
He felt nothing but guilt and disappointment gripping the bag he'd stolen from that merchant, though it didn't have any food, coins, or anything useful. Just a bunch of junk and a rusted oil lamp that looked like it had seen better days.
"This was a bust.." He murmured, sitting down on the floor of his dilapidated hovel, then turned the lamp over in his hands before pausing.
There was something written on the side of the lamp. He couldn't quite make it out, but…
Toshinori's eyes narrowed as he rubbed his hand along the side, trying to brush away the layers of grime and dust to view the etchings.
He leapt back, his heart pounding, dropping the lamp in the process as the metal seared his skin. The thing suddenly began to rattle violently with unpredictable, frantic energy.
The air inside the hovel grew thick with the scent of ozone and ancient spice as brilliant plumes of violet smoke erupted from the narrow spout of the lamp. From the swirling fog started to emerge an entity of pure light.
Toshinori stumbled backward, his knees buckling as he fell to the floor, his heart hammering against his ribs as he stared up at the entity as it began to materialize.
His breath caught in his throat.
Before him was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. His blue skin shimmered like the sky clad in gold, gems, and sheer revealing garments that made Toshinori want to turn away, if only out of respect for the being's modesty. His eyes seemed to burn like twin stars beneath a crown of shifting cosmic dust as he stared down at him.
The angel-in-question then proceeded to stretch his back with a loud, theatrical CRACK, sending a shockwave of gold sparks ricocheting off the walls.
"Whoa! Lemme tell you, ten thousand years is really hard on your back." A bubbling voice came from the being's throat. Despite his larger-than-life energy, he sounded (surprisingly) like someone you'd have a pleasant conversation with on the street.
Toshinori merely blinked in shock.
The angel (?) merely shrugged; undeterred. "Eh, tough crowd. That's fine, I laugh at my own jokes anyway."
The angel (?) then winked, a charming smile lighting up his face. With a theatrical flourish, he conjured a top hat out of thin air, tipped it, and floated down until his bare, glowing blue feet hovered inches above the stone floor.
He casually threw an arm around Toshinori's shoulders, pulling him close, like they were old friends.
"It is good to be back! Nice to meet you, pal. What's your name?"
Toshinori floundered for a moment, not just because of how surreal the situation was, but also because he was now pressed flush against this ridiculously pretty and possibly magical boy.
"U-Uh.. Toshinori. Toshinori Yagi."
"Toshinori Yagi! Quite the name. Mind if I call you, Toshi? Master Toshi! It's got quite the ring to it, doesn't it?"
Any thoughts Toshinori might've managed to muster up screeched to a sudden halt.
Hastily, he pulled himself out of the casual embrace, shaking his head. "Hold on, what do you mean by master?!"
"Oh. You don't know. That's a first. Usually people just kinda catch on intrinsically, that's all right, I can explain. I'm here to serve after all."
Toshinori rubbed his head, glancing between the lamp and the blue-skinned being currently taking up space in his hovel. " … I must be going crazy."
The aforementioned blue-skinned being seemed unsympathetic to his plight, looking more amused than anything. "Nope, you're as sane as can be! Probably. I don't know you well enough to confirm that."
"I suppose introductions ARE in order though."
"I am the long-contained, the powerful, the wise, the one, the only, not to mention outrageously handsome," He summoned a hand mirror, blew himself a kiss, and then dispelled it in a poof of shimmering dust.
"Genie of the Lamp! But you can call me, (Name), for short."
… Toshinori now knew for certain that this was hands-down the weirdest day of his life.
"Wait, wait, wait, a genie?! You're a genie. As in, an actual, you-get-three-wishes kind of genie?" He asked, awed, hope building in his voice as he stared up at the figure of legend.
(Name) smiled at him, seemingly pleased to be recognized as he floated further upward and patted Toshinori on the head in a manner that felt almost condescending. "Correct-A-Mundo! You catch on fast."
This… This changed a lot.
Toshinori, for the first time in what felt like years, felt his chest become lighter. He prayed this wasn't a dream—that this opportunity wasn't a figment of his desperate imagination. "I thought, I thought you were just a myth. Like a bedtime tale that adults tell children."
(Name) shrugged floating on his stomach as he kicked his feet in the air.
"Most people assume that. Can't blame them, if I were them I'd also think someone was lying about meeting a ridiculously charming, wish-granting sex-god." The genie grinned, striking a pose, arching his back and running a hand through his hair as he gave Toshinori a wink that had no business looking as hot as it did.
He shook his head. This wasn't the time to get excited, or to start questioning his sexuality.
(Name) either didn't notice how affected he was by his playful behavior or was nice enough not to call him out on it, as he continued to speak.
"Well, if you know the lore, then I'm sure you know the gist of how this goes. No wishing for more wishes; I can't kill anyone, I can't make anyone fall in love with you, and I can't bring anyone back from the dead. Besides that, you can wish for whatever you want." He outlined with a flourishing wave of his hand.
Toshinori stared at the floating, impossibly bright entity, then down at his calloused hands, and finally at the dirty floor.
"This.. This is a lot." He finally uttered in response, taking a moment to sit down on his threadbare bed and blanket.
"Yep! Hell of a deal though, huh?"
He floated beside him and leaned in close, his face shrinking down to miniature size to rest on Toshinori's shoulder, invading his personal space with a toothy grin. "So, what'll it be?"
Toshinori pulled his knees up to his chest, suddenly feeling terribly small beneath the gaze of what must've been one of the universe's most powerful beings.
He thought of the hostile markets, the cold nights, the cruelty of a city that didn't care if he lived or died. He thought about wishing for safety. He thought of wishing for the power to defend himself and others. But the sheer magnitude of the choice and responsibility that would come with making it paralyzed him.
"I don't know. I need some time to think about this."
(Name) stared at him, looking almost taken aback by his decision. "You.. That's different, most of my previous masters sort of just sought me out knowing what they wanted."
Toshinori huffed, hugging his knees. "Well, I'm not that kind of guy."
——————————————————————————
They sat together in silence for a while, aside from the sound of (Name)—who'd shifted back to his regular size–chewing on a piece of fruit he had conjured up, unbothered by Toshinori's current turmoil.
"Why is this so hard?" Toshinori groaned, rubbing his face as he turned to look at (Name). "What would you wish for?"
(Name) was stunned for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "Nobody's ever asked me that before.. But there's an easy answer; my freedom."
Toshinori furrowed his brow. "You're not free now…?"
(Name) let out a bellowing laugh, startling Toshinori as the former hunched over and slapped his knee.
"You'd think I choose to spend my life trapped in a hunk of brass, granting wishes for all eternity. No, pal, these shackles are here for a reason, and it isn't just because I like to be fancy."
The genie tapped on his gold cuffs on his forearms, which up until now Toshinori had assumed were just a fashion choice.
"The only way I can be free is if someone wishes me to be free, and I'm sure you can take a good guess as to why that's never happened before in the history of ever."
Toshinori felt his stomach churn at the new information. He couldn't imagine what that was like—being imprisoned for all eternity and only allowed a superficial sense of liberation whenever he was awakened to do the bidding of others.
"That's awful." The words slipped out before he could stop them.
(Name) merely shrugged in response as he looked off to the side. "When it's all you know, it's hard to long for anything else. You get used to it."
Toshinori, despite the genie's nonchalance, couldn't fully believe him. No one, no matter how much time had passed, would possibly come to terms with being enslaved for their whole life.
"I'll do it." He stated determinedly, taking (Name)'s hands in his own, as the genie's head whipped around to face him. "I have three wishes. That's more than enough. I'll set you free with my last one."
(Name) looked shocked. More than shocked, he looked flabbergasted, conflicted, and unconvinced all at once by the declaration.
"Yeah… Here's the thing about power, kid." He began, gently pulling his hands free, conjuring a miniature model of Hosu in his palm.
"It's never enough. It attracts the worst and corrupts the best, it's hard not to want more when there's more to be wanted." He continued, expanding the miniature in his palm from Hosu to Earth, and then from Earth to the solar system to emphasize his point.
Toshinori wasn't quite sure what to say, but his sense of resolve encouraged him to gently take (Name)’s hands again, softly tilting the genie's head upward so he could meet his gaze.
"Well, I'm not that kind of guy." He reiterated, this time with greater confidence and a renewed sense of purpose.
(Name) still appeared somewhat unconvinced, but there was a gentler quality in his eyes, as if he was beginning to see Toshinori in a new light. "We'll see."
Toshinori took that as a small victory.
"I mean it! I don't want money or power or any of that stuff. I just want to help people, you know?"
He released (Name)’s hands, looking down at his lap.
"It's just, it's hard because I can't do much for them. I'm just another street rat. I don't have money, power, or a title that could be of any use. The only way I could ever hope to change things is if I were…"
Suddenly, a switch flipped on in his head.
"Wait.. Can you make me into a prince?" Toshinori turned back toward (Name), his eyes glittering with such a bright sense of hope that it made the genie squint.
(Name) gave him a flat look in response, as if affronted by the fact that the other even asked such a question.
"Don't play in my face, blondie. I can do anything." He took another bite of his fruit before tossing it into the air and allowing it to dematerialize.
(Name) stood up, cracking his neck before wringing his hands in preparation. "Alright, first official wish, and for those at home, I am counting."
Toshinori chose to ignore that last bit. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, gripping the lamp as he held the brass artifact tightly in his hands.
"Okay, Genie? I wish to become a prince!" He wished, squeezing his eyes shut as he braced himself for whatever was about to happen.
(Name) allowed himself to grin wickedly, raising his hands as he floated up into the air, magic crackling in his hands.
"Hold on to your horses, big boy. I'm about to change your life."
Sparks burst from (Name)’s hands as they transformed Toshinori's tattered rags into a breathtaking royal tunic woven from shimmering silk and gleaming gold.
The ground trembled beneath his feet, the tiny shack quaking as it began to shift and breathe, ripping open to reveal a majestic marble palace rising from the earth itself. Towering minarets seemed to touch the stars while courtyard fountains were bathed in moonlight.
Mountains of glittering gold coins, chests overflowing with priceless jewels, and a regal entourage thundered onto the scene, heralding the arrival of a newly minted prince.
Toshinori was speechless as he looked down at himself, his once blistered hands now unmarred and devoid of sores, as he tugged at his new attire.
What else could he say but: "Whoa…"
"You're damn right "Whoa!" (Name) exclaimed with a burst of enthusiasm, his arms crossing over his chest as he circled Toshinori. "Now, let's see, brochacho. Toshinori Yagi is a fine name, but it doesn't really scream 'heroic prince that's come to save the common folk from themselves.'"
The genie paused, his chin resting thoughtfully in his hand, as if weighed down by a sudden significance of his decision. Then, he snapped his fingers.
"Instead, how about.. 'Prince All Might?'" He waved his hand, conjuring a mirror as he placed his hands on Toshinori's shoulders, floating behind him. "A name that will be both beloved by your people and command respect from your enemies."
Toshinori stared at his reflection. For once in his life, he felt like somebody. He was somebody—a new symbol of peace for the people of Hosu.
"Prince All Might…" He murmured, the name rolling off his tongue with a comfortable ease as he allowed himself to smile. "I like it."
——————————————————————————
At first, (Name) watched Toshinori like a hawk, waiting for the metaphorical ball to drop. Absolute power corrupts absolutely; it is the golden rule of life. One he himself had learned in the most painful manner.
As Toshinori threw himself headfirst into his new identity, saving orphans, stopping cart runaways, and dismantling corruption, (Name) braced himself.
"Any day now," he thought bitterly, watching the prince sign decree after decree aimed at lowering taxes for the poor and building public granaries. "The power will go to his head. He'll start executing his rivals. He’ll demand more and more until nothing is enough."
As the weeks bled into months, Toshinori didn't grow arrogant. If anything, he grew more exhausted, often sneaking back into his royal chambers late at night to collapse on the floor, coughing up blood in secret, mourning every citizen he couldn't save fast enough.
He didn't treat (Name) like a slave; he treated him like a friend, as if he were more than an object, inviting him to sit by the balcony to share some food and just talk. The genie had never felt so normal, as if he were a part of something greater and more genuine than the purpose that had been forced onto him.
Day by day, the walls surrounding his heart began to crumble. Then they collapsed in their entirety.
When a rogue warlord from the eastern mountains threatened to lay siege to Hosu, Toshinori didn't hesitate. He stood before (Name) with that same resoluteness that he'd come to expect from him and used his second wish: "Grant me the strength to protect my people. I want the power to stand tall so no more innocent blood is spilled."
(Name) watched him fight on the battlefield, moving like a golden god of justice, shielding fleeing citizens with his own massive body.
And in that moment, floating above the smoke and shouting, (Name) fell hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
He loved the way Toshinori laughed from within his belly. He loved the ridiculous optimism despite having only known cruelty and abandonment. He loved the colossal, stupid, beautiful heart of a street rat wearing the crown of a prince.
But fear began to take root in (Name)'s soul.
Toshinori was becoming too invested in his role.
Across the Sultanate, the name All Might was whispered with an almost religious reverence. The people didn't see the man behind the smile; they saw a symbol. The Symbol of Peace.
And as Toshinori buried himself deeper and deeper into the persona of the invincible Prince, (Name) grew terrified that the man he loved was disappearing beneath it.
"Does he even see me anymore?" (Name) wondered one night, watching Toshinori wave to a cheering crowd from behind a pillar. "When this is all over, will I just be another tool he used to build his legend? Will he ever look back at me fondly and see me as someone he could've loved?"
The final confrontation came sooner than (Name) was ready for.
Prince All Might stood victorious in the throne room, the kingdom safe, the people rejoicing outside.
(Name) materialized beside him, a nervous knot in his stomach, throwing on his usual bright, theatrical grin.
"Well, Your Royal Highness!" (Name) boomed, his voice pitched a little too high, a little too desperate. "Third and final wish left! What's it gonna be? A new palace in the clouds? A harem of gorgeous concubines? Immortality? Say the word, boss-man, and it's yours! I'm here to serve!"
Toshinori turned to look at him. The light of the torches caught the piercing blue of his eyes. There was no bluster in his face now—just a quiet, profound fondness.
He reached out and gently took (Name)'s in his own, like he'd done all those many nights ago.
"My final wish," Toshinori said softly. "I wish to set you free."
(Name) froze. The room seemed to tilt on its axis.
"You... what?" He gasped, the shackles on his wrists shattered, falling to the floor with a loud metallic thud before dissipating entirely, the chains that had once bound him disappearing as he felt the cord of obedience that once governed his existence snap like paper.
"You're free, (Name)," Toshinori smiled, that brilliant, breathtaking smile, though his eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "You don't belong to the lamp anymore. You don't belong to anyone."
Panic, hot and frantic, surged through (Name). He yanked his hands back, shaking his head.
This was all he’d ever wanted: his life back. To spend the rest of his existence following his own rules, traveling the world, reliving the life he’d only ever allowed himself to reminisce and fantasize about before his imprisonment.
So why did it hurt so much? Why was it so agonizing? The thought of leaving this place? The thought of leaving Toshinori?
"Freedom? Toshi, what are you talking about? I’m a genie! Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do?" (Name) shouted, his hands flying to his face as his voice hitched. "I don't want to leave! You think I want my freedom back after all this time we've spent together? After... after I fell in love with you?!"
The throne room fell dead silent. The crackling of the torches sounded deafening.
(Name) stood there, chest heaving, his blue skin flushing a mortified shade of magenta. He had said it. The secret he was supposed to take to the grave, spilled out in a panic of the rejection he was facing. He squeezed his eyes shut, turning away, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Forget it," (Name) muttered, his voice dropping to a broken whisper. "Just... pretend I never said anything. Enjoy your kingdom, Prince All Might. I'll just...."
He turned away as he began to dissolve into smoke, desperate to flee, to retreat back into the dark, safe, empty loneliness of his lamp—
A warm hand caught his shoulder.
(Name) gasped as he was pulled back, solid flesh meeting solidified smoke. He opened his eyes to find Toshinori standing impossibly close. The towering prince wasn't smiling his usual grand smile; he was looking at Genie with a raw vulnerability that mirrored his own.
"A true prince, a true hero," Toshinori whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "doesn't just save his people. He keeps the promises he makes to those who stood by him through it all. He keeps them close to his heart."
Before (Name) could process the words, Toshinori leaned down.
The kiss was clumsy, awkward given their mutual lack of experience, but it was warm. It tasted like roasted chestnuts and the feeling of being welcomed home.
(Name)'s breath hitched, his eyes widening before fluttering shut. His magic flared, sending a shower of harmless golden sparks raining down around them like stars.
When they finally broke apart, Toshinori rested his forehead against (Name)'s, a watery laugh slipping past his lips.
"I was so worried," Toshinori murmured, his thumb gently brushing across (Name)'s cheek. "I was so terrified that once I became this 'Symbol of Peace,' I'd just be a monster of my own making, completely alone. I thought... I thought a street rat wearing a false crown could never deserve someone as magnificent as you."
(Name) stared at him, the last of his eons-old cynicism melting away into nothingness. He reached up, cupping Toshinori's cheek, a trembling smile stretching across his face.
All this time... He'd thought himself the one undeserving of Toshinori, only for the man to confess to harboring that same painful assumption.
"You're an idiot, Toshinori Yagi," (Name) whispered, his voice trembling with a love so intense it made his chest ache. "The biggest, most noble idiot in the history of ever."
"Maybe so," Toshinori replied, his blue eyes shining with absolute devotion. "But I'm your idiot. If you'll have me."
(Name) just laughed and pulled him in for another kiss.
The brass lamp rolled harmlessly across the marble floor, forgotten and empty at last.
The Genie of the Lamp had finally found his freedom and his home.
