Uhm…holy shit guys…I'm sorry. That took seven months. Jesus Christ. "OTL

I made myself finish it by the one-year anniversary, which happens to be toady. Yes, I am cutting it close, I know. Anyway, I have to thank MorbidMandy, who-about a month ago-read my fic, saw that it was and had been for months, on hiatus, and reviewed anyway. And reminded me that I'm a douche and have been leaving you people hanging for seven months now, after you were all so good to me. So, if anyone sees this in their Alerts and actually reads the end, I want you to know how much I love all of you. Like, honestly. I don't deserve any of you.


Anyway, here is the end of this fic, and I hope whoever reads it enjoys it. I love you guys lots.

"Oh God…" Magnus swung around as he heard Isabelle whisper, her face huge and white and swallowed by her dark eyes. Jace stood a step behind her, Clary hanging onto his arm with one arm, and wielding an angel blade with her other. Farther back, he could see Luke and the rest of his wolf pack with that girl, Maia, waiting at his side.

Turning back around, Magnus caught sight of Rhiannon in time to see her throw her head back and cackle, the light edging her profile with harsh clarity. With a manic grin, she opened her hand-her sword vanishing in a puff of smoke-and lay it on the armrest of her sister's throne, before sinking into the soft, velvety seat. Magnus thought the room grew noticeably dimmer.

Rhiannon cast her eyes over the bloodied court, over the faeries-Seelie and Unseelie alike-who stood frozen mid-battle, their limbs locked and gazes uncertain. "You don't kneel to your new Queen?" she asked, reaching up to rest her chin on her palm. As if they were all controlled by the same mad puppeteer, the faeries sank to their knees in unison, grotesquely gorgeous head bowing towards the ground. The Unseelie Queen smiled a poison smile. "Better." She snapped her fingers at two Seelie courtiers, and then at the headless corpse of her sister, where it lay rotting. "Now, clean up this horrid mess."

The faeries bobbed their heads and set to work right away, clearing away the body and mopping up the blood.

Magnus turned to Jace, words spitting venomous disbelief. "I can't believe you helped the Unseelie Queen overthrow the Seelie Court."

Jace quirked an eyebrow and half-smile, his weariness evident in every line of his face. He'd been through hell. "Really? I would've thought it would've been pretty easy, seeing as you just witnessed the whole thing."

Magnus scoffed and shook his head, even as Alec reached up and placed a soft hand on his collar. "Why? Why did you agree to it?" he asked, helping the Shadowhunter to sit with his head pillowed against his shoulder, his unsteady breath tickling his throat.

Jace shrugged and moved past Isabelle, Clary following along behind like a lost puppy dog. "I didn't have much choice in the matter," he said, crouching down beside his brother and shooting him a smile. "And she offered me a wish. I figured I could use it to find you two, though this all coincided so nicely that it's not even necessary. Now I can finally get that Plasma screen I've been wanting for the Institute."

Magnus furrowed his eyebrows at the blond boy, because there were no words, no gestures to express the depth of his gratitude, and so he fell back on his net of sarcasm. "I'm not sure it quite works like that, Jace. She's not a genie."

At that moment, Rhiannon clapped her dainty white hands, the sound too loud as it echoed through the cavern. "Shadowhunters. Downworlders," she addressed them, her voice too clear and strong. "I do thank you for your help in liberating the Seelie throne." She nodded at Luke and Maia, then at Isabelle and Jace. "And Jonathon, I did agree to grant you a single boon." Her smile she gave him was quite possibly the closest one to genuine that had ever graced her lips. "What is it you would like?"

Alec struggled up the stairs leading to Magnus' apartment, heavy box cradled in his arms and coughing the smell of mildew at him with every step. Chewing his lip, he wriggled the door open with his hip and walked inside, calling out as he went, "Hey, Magnus, where do you want me to put these books?"

Magnus' voice echoed from the tiny laundry room, where a brand new washer-drier pair sparkled, new out of the box and Alec's boyfriend sat on the floor with the instructions spread out in front of him, his forehead adorably crumpled. "Wherever you want them, hon," he answered without looking up. Alec dumped the box at the foot of the loveseat and walked back over, standing in the doorway.

Magnus glanced up at him and smiled, his spiked hair bound back by a sequined headband. Alec noticed that he was reading the French side of the instructions. "You wouldn't happen to know how to run a washing machine, would you?" he asked.

Smiling back down at him, Alec plucked the unopened jug of Tide and handed it to his boyfriend, who looked at it like it was a new species of spider crawling up his leg. "You pour the detergent in and set the timer. Don't tell me you've lived eight hundred years without knowing how to use a washer?"

Magnus shrugged and studied the instructions written on the back of the detergent. "When you can get by perfectly fine with magic, there's not really any need to know such mundane things." Biting down on his lip, he got to his feet and popped the lid of the washer, dumping in a generous load of soap and flicking on the machine. It answered with a snarl and a rumble as it started churning. "There," he said, grinning. "I think I got it."

The two-toned trill of the doorbell sounded through the apartment, and Alec unhitched himself from the door, walking over to the door.

"Good, because it's time to eat," he said as he opened it for the delivery boy from the Chinese place down the block. The kid-sixteen or seventeen-held out a bulging, grease-stained bag and dropped it into Alec's hands.

"Chicken lo mein, sweet and sour soup, shrimp fried rice and pork dumplings," he rattled off, counting on his fingers as he tried hard to remember. "Eighteen twenty-three."

Alec shifted the food to one hand and dug in his back pocket for his wallet, fishing out a twenty and handing it over just as Magnus came up behind him and lay both hands on his shoulders, fitting his chin into the space between his fingers and Alec's throat. "Mmm, takeout. How did you know?"

To his credit, the delivery boy took his money and tip, shot off a customary "thank you," and disappeared without a rotten word.

Alec grinned and slipped out from under Magnus' hands, dropping off the bag on the table and glancing back at his boyfriend. "Not just takeout," he said, still beaming like an idiot. "Takeout and better-than-sex cake from that bakery on Third." He pointed at a white box sitting on the kitchen counter, a hint of dark brown peeking through the cellophane top.

Magnus smirked, darting forward to pin the Shadowhunter against the edge of the table, resting his hands on either side of his waist. "Better than sex? Just sex, or really awesome sex?" he asked, his voice heavy with teasing. "Because there's a difference, and I find it hard to believe that this cake is better than really awesome sex, no matter how good it is."

Alec twirled about in the cage of his boyfriend's arms, toying with the bottom of Magnus' striped acid-green and black cardigan, slipping long fingers underneath. "Well, you'll have plenty time to compare tonight," he whispered, laying on layer after layer of innuendo.

Magnus raised one eyebrow and leaned closer. "Oh, really? Well then, maybe we should skip dinner straight away, and get started on that bit." Swallowing the last of the distance between them, he brought his lips to the soft skin just beneath Alec's jaw line, teasing it with teeth and tongue, leaving the faintest red mark.

Alec peeled him away, but his hands were gentle and his voice was trembling just a little as he said, "Mmm, dinner first, I think." Stepping back, he pulled out a chair for Magnus, offering it up with a grand sweep of one hand. "We've got the whole night, and you don't want to get hungry halfway through, do you?" He winked. He actually winked.

Grinning, Magnus shook his head in disbelief. "God, you're cute. Alright then, Mr. Chivalrous." Falling down into the open seat, Magnus couldn't hold back a little gasp as Alec bent down over the back of the chair and brushed a kiss over his temple, before moving down to steal his lips for a long, slow, wonderful moment.

When he pulled back, Magnus caught a glimpse of lovely, sparkling blue and flashing white. Breath gushed over his ear as Alec whispered, "Happy Twentieth Birthday, Magnus."

This is probably asking for way too much from you lovely people, but, if you don't hate me too much, I'd still like to hear what you think. Because, even if I'm done writing this story, I'm not done writing, and there's a good chance the Mortal Instruments fandom might rise to top dog again.

So, even if you want to tell me how much I suck, and how much you want to punch me in the ovaries, I'd like to know.

Goodbye for now. :D