#izzy ‘i sliced a mans shirt open for no reason other than to be a showoff’ hands????

[who-the-fuck-knows-blog]

how long was izzy waiting in the captain’s cabin for stede to show up just to give him his little dramatic ‘i told you so’ speech? izzy knew this would happen, he warned stede. and stede didn’t listen. i love how izzy places himself in the most drama queen areas when he’s got a point to make.

[slashscowboyboots]

England’s Dreaming: The Clash (Part 2)

Part 1

I’m going to be posting a little more regularly, I hope to have a Christmas fic up sometime in the near future.  Thank you for all the likes and reblogs

Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket​ @no-stone-no-bone​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll​ @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands​ @smokeandmirrorz​ @sodalitefully​​ @roger-taylors-car​​  @harley-m-rose​ @whisperess33​ @shawolat​ @80snikki as always, if you wish to be tagged let me know

Warnings: near-fatal horniness and very deep disappointment.  And no one likes doughy balls

“You're awful quiet,” Duff murmured.

It had been quite an interesting morning.  Izzy had shown up fifteen minutes before his shift started, wearing a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a patch with “Izzy” embroidered over his right pec and quietly asked if he could wear that on the job.  White circles swam in front of your eyes until he cleared his throat and repeated the question.

“Sure, it’s fine,” you mumbled, then put your hand over your mouth to cover a moan as you watched him lift your cakes, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of his white stomach, contrasting vividly with his low-riding black jeans, then walk out the door.

“Relax, Y/N,” Duff said, grinning like a madman.  “He'll treat your babies right.  He’s got a gentle touch.”

Since drinking before 8 am was bad form, especially on the job, you opted to close yourself in the pantry, stuffing a dish towel in your mouth while you screamed. 

Finally getting your heart rate down to normal, you began your day.  Without Izzy’s presence, the shop seemed especially empty, and you used your time making icing and scones and mentally berating yourself.

If a man eyed a woman like that, you’d call him a pig.  It’s rude to just openly stare at someone, even if they are so blatantly attractive.

You don’t have a chance with him anyway, with your preppy little sweaters and pearls.  If he wasn’t your employee, he’d never even notice someone like you.

Oh yeah, did you forget that you’re his boss?  And as professional as he seems, a workplace romance is not in the cards, even if Hell froze solid and he thought you were hot.

“Yoo hoo,” Duff said, waving a hand in front of your eyes.  “He’ll be fine.  I know the other guys left a lot to be desired, but Izzy takes his work seriously.  The only reason I didn’t recommend him first is because he was already working at the flower shop.”

You looked up at him, then pursed your lips and nodded.  Best to let him think it was worry and not terminal lust for your newest employee that was running on a continuous loop in your brain.

“And if I know Izz, and I like to think I do, he’ll throw himself into his work.  He’s single, he’s got no constraints on his time, besides playing guitar and riding his bike.  Which doesn’t run anyway.”

“He’s single?” you yelped, then the front door dinged open and the devil himself strode in the kitchen.

“Hey, I’m back,” he smiled.  “Any more deliveries?”

“Well,” and your throat went dry, “you have to deliver a cake to the Martins’ birthday party at 1 o’clock.  Nothing till then.”

“What can I do?”

“Uh, there’s dishes in the sink,” you peeped, pointing to them.

“Here, Izz, catch,” Duff said, and tossed him an apron.  You were relieved it wasn’t your pink eyelet one, then Izzy shook it out and tied it on.  “LOVE MY BUNS” was emblazoned on the front of it, and Duff threw you a wily grin.

Izzy squared his shoulders.  “Y’all better love ‘em,” he deadpanned, snapping on a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

You tried not to stare at them, then concentrated on dropping food coloring in some batter.  The tie dyed cupcakes you sold were selling out faster than you could make them, but Duff had an aversion to making them for some reason, so you had to create them.  And what better way to keep your mind off Izzy’s spectacular buns?

That was easier said than done.  You noticed Izzy’d finished his dishes, then felt him before you even looked up.  He was peering into your mixing bowl, his nose nearly touching it.  “What are you making?”

You jerked your head up, and his face wasn’t six inches away, his soft lips slightly parted.  “These-these are tie dyed cupcakes.”

“Can I help you with them?”

“Uh, sure.”  You squeezed the last of the food coloring in, then dropped the liners in the muffin pan, instructing him how to fill them three-quarters full, then he slid them in the oven.  

“Thank you, Izzy.  Um, do you want to help Duff make cookies?”

Duff jerked his head.  “Can you get me the flour over there?”

Izzy grabbed it, and because he was wearing short black boots and not slip-resistant work shoes, slid on the slick floor, very nearly dropping it.  He must’ve clenched the open bag in his hands, because a big poof of it exploded right in his face. 

“Shit,” he gasped, blowing it out of his mouth.

Duff slapped the table, howling at him, and you were trying very hard not to laugh.

Izzy stuck his tongue out, coughing, and he looked so embarrassed you wanted to hug him.  “Uh, yeah, I’ll be heading upstairs now.  By the time I get cleaned up, it’ll be time to make my delivery.”  He barked out a laugh.  “I hope this doesn’t make paste when it hits water, or I’ll have dough balls.  And nobody likes doughy balls.”

Duff had been grinning since Izzy went upstairs.  “I think he likes it here.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he laughed.  Izzy never laughs.”  He crossed his arms over his black safety-pinned t-shirt.  “I told you he’d be a good fit.  Hey, can I take my lunch now?  I feel the need for…..pizza.”

“Sure,” you said, and on went the pimp coat.  Even though he worked in a bakery, Duff had an overwhelming love for the pizza shop next door, and you swore he was working on duplicating their dough on his early shifts, unseen by you.

It was heavenly pizza, and you regretted not asking him to bring you back a slice, then the door chimed open and a stunning brunette woman with huge dark eyes walked in.

“Hi,” she said in a sultry voice, “is Izzy here?”

You shook your head, taking in her heavy eye makeup and micro skirt.  She was tiny, although she was wearing a sky-high pair of stilettos.  “He’s-he’s out.  I can tell him you stopped by.”

“Sure.  I’m Barbie.”  Her red lips turned up in a smirk.  “Aren’t you just precious?  I love your little rubber boots.”

“Th-thank you,” you said, hoping the floor would swallow you up.  Of course, this was the kind of woman Izzy would pursue, someone sexy, not a Shy Di wannabe. What worked to catch the attention of a stodgy middle-aged prince was very unlikely to work on an edgy guy like Izzy.  You knew that.

And standing in front of you was living proof.

“So, anyway, tell him I came by.  And here,” she threw a denim jacket on a table, “he left this in my car.  Bye, little rubber boots.”

[moonlight-breeze-44]

YES, I was waiting for you to rb the sensory prompts!! Number 25, please!

Hi! First of all, MY GOD, I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I’m a bit terrible. BUT. I really hope you like this. I...might have ran away with this fic. Your original prompt comes up in like, a paragraph. So this probably isn’t what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyways!

(Again, sorry.)

#25 = calloused palm

~ ~ ~

Let Me In

Read on AO3

Magnus approached the training room with caution. The last thing he wanted to do was spook Alec into getting defensive or, worse, running.

As he approached the room, the telltale thwack of arrows splitting targets filled the air, and Magnus winced. Isabelle had called ahead of time to tell him what was happening. She had sounded tearful on the phone as she admitted that she couldn’t reach him, couldn’t help him. Magnus could hear the guilt lining her voice when she confessed that she couldn’t stop her brother from hurting himself.

It was the same type of guilt that Magnus often felt.

Magnus hesitated in the doorway to the training room, unsure of how to proceed. No matter how many times he found Alexander in the midst of hurting himself, he would never quite know exactly what to say or do to help him.

Magnus rapped lightly on the wall and made a low sound in the back of his throat to announce his presence. Alec whirled around, still clutching his bow, his eyes wide and filled to the brim with an emotion that Magnus couldn’t identify.

“Magnus,” he heaved, breathing hard from the exertion. “What are you doing here?”

“Your sister called me,” Magnus replied, cautiously taking another step inside. “She was worried about you.”

Alec squared his shoulders and set his jaw in a straight line. “She overreacts. I’m fine.”

“Are you?” Magnus raised a challenging eyebrow and swept his hand to indicate the numerous targets littering the walls of the training room, all with at least four arrows jammed into the bull’s-eye.

“Yes,” Alec replied tersely, and Magnus pressed his lips together. Accusations and anger would get him nowhere.

“Alexander,” Magnus began, but Alec cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

“Mags, seriously, I’m fine,” Alec said. “I just want to finish training, okay? I’ll be home soon for dinner.”

Magnus bit his lip and wondered what to do. Sometimes, when Alec made these visits to the training room without his archer’s gloves, he needed comfort, a gentle touch and a warm hand to remind him that he wasn’t the things his mind claimed him to be. Other times, though, he needed to fight. He needed to let his anger out, and it was up to Magnus to figure out a way for him to do so that didn’t involve pain.

But when Alec shut him out like this, refused to acknowledge his concern, it was difficult to tell which it was.

Magnus watched from a distance as Alec took aim and loosed another arrow, this one hitting a target on the left side of the room dead-center. He was shaking, but Magnus couldn’t tell if that was from anger or exertion. Sweat stained his dark grey t-shirt, and his ebony hair was messy, as though he had run his fingers through it multiple times. Magnus knew he did that when he was upset or overwhelmed.

His husband’s hands were calloused and rough, years’ worth of scars and weapons handling apparent the second they touched his own that first time so many years ago. Magnus had never minded. This was a symbol of who Alec was, a Shadowhunter, a warrior, always willing to defend and serve and protect. Magnus loved running his fingers over the little indentations in Alec’s skin, pointing out scars and asking him to tell the story of them. While most of them were, of course, the result of battle wounds, Alec did have the occasional funny story of Jace being clumsy or himself taking a misstep in training, and Magnus enjoyed hearing them more than Alec would ever know.

It was one day only a few months into their relationship when Magnus noticed the thin, silvery scars. They were tiny, barely there in comparison to the others, but there were far too many of them for Magnus to placate himself with false truths about them being accidental.

He didn’t want to confront Alec about them, at first; he was the last person in the world who would make someone else relive past pain. But when Magnus noticed the little scars multiplying with time, he knew he had to say something. Alec was hurting himself, and Magnus couldn’t just let it happen.

Predictably, when he’d brought it up, Alec had immediately shut down, clenching his hands into fists and taking that stance he always took with his parents: the stance of a soldier - eyes up, feet planted firmly on the ground, hands twisted together behind his back.

Alec had never taken that stance with Magnus before.

With gentle words and reassuring touches, Magnus had managed to get Alec to relax enough to talk about it, and he learned that Alec had been without his archer’s gloves for years. It wasn’t exactly a surprise to him, but it still hurt to hear. He was glad when Alec had reassured him that he was doing better, much better, than before he met Magnus. It kindled some fire inside of Magnus to know that he was part of the reason his Shadowhunter’s relationship with pain was slowly growing into what it should have been in the first place.

After that first time, when Magnus had reassured Alec that he thought no less of him and just wanted to help, things were a bit easier for the couple when the problem next arose. Words flowed easier, and there were significantly fewer barriers between them.

It didn’t mean things were perfect.

Even after years of being married to Alec, Magnus was still figuring out everything there was to know about him. Usually, it was a good thing; it was like opening a familiar book that was suddenly brushed with a few new words for him to experience. It was learning, and Magnus was nothing if not a seeker of knowledge.

But this knowledge, the knowledge of Alec’s habit and the way he controlled his own emotions with pain he didn’t deserve, left Magnus feeling hollow and empty inside.

Magnus stepped closer and placed a hand on Alec’s trembling arm. He tensed under the touch, his back going rigid and his hands tightening on his bow. Up close, Magnus could see the true extent of the damage - Alec’s palms were bruised from clutching his bow too tightly, and the fingers of his left hand were sliced and bloody from the bow string.

Magnus didn’t want to think about how long Alec had to have been at it for it to be this bad.

Alec kept his gaze firmly locked on the targets above him, refusing to meet Magnus’s eyes. Magnus squeezed harder, a bit more firm in his grip, and Alec sagged beneath him. It made tears well up in Magnus’s eyes to know that he had to cause Alec pain, at least a small amount, to get him to stop causing himself pain.

“What happened, darling?” Magnus asked, gentling his grip and stroking up and down Alec’s arm with his free hand.

“Nothing happened,” Alec mumbled.

Magnus made a sound of disbelief and began to rub soothing circles into the back of Alec’s hand, the part that wasn’t cut up and decorated garishly in browns and yellows. Slowly, he inched the bow out of Alec’s hands, relief crashing over him in waves when the other man didn’t protest.

“It’s stupid,” Alec said in a low voice, turning away from Magnus. Magnus caught his arm and pulled him close, not letting him go too far.

“It is not,” he promised. “Nothing that upsets you will ever be stupid, Alexander.”

Alec sighed and didn’t say anything. Magnus waited patiently, drawing little figure-eights on the back of Alec’s hand.

“It’s just…” Alec trailed off, biting his lip. Magnus gave his hand a soft squeeze, encouraging him to continue. “It’s just that, now that Clary has her memories back and everything, I, I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? T-This can’t stay. This, this happiness, this security, this peace, it can’t stay. Something is going to happen, isn’t it? Something always does.”

Alec stared at a blank spot on the wall and pressed his lips together. Magnus could tell that he wanted to say more, so he refrained from uttering the words that burned at the back of his throat.

“I can’t just be content with a life where everything is fine,” Alec said, laughing bitterly. “And I know that sounds like I want things to go wrong, but it’s just, it’s just that everything always has. When I was younger, I was miserable. Then I met you.” He turned to give Magnus a shadow of a smile, and Magnus moved closer to him with a soft brush of his hand. “And things weren’t so bad, then. But everything with Valentine and the Circle, my parents and Jace & Izzy & Clary, it was still happening, and even if I wasn’t miserable anymore, nothing slowed down. Life was still, was still hectic and something was always happening and it never stopped.”

Alec paused to take a breath, and Magnus saw a glassy tint to his eyes that made his heart clench with sympathy. “And now, everything is fine and calm and nothing is happening.” He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I just keep feeling like, if I let my guard down, that’s when the next thing that’s going to go wrong, will.”

“And you want to be able to stop it before it does,” Magnus finished for him. “So your siblings and loved ones can enjoy the slice of a normal life they’ve been given.”

Alec chewed his lip and didn’t answer, but Magnus could tell he had hit it right on the mark.

Magnus sighed and pulled Alec closer to him, stroking a hand through his hair and pressing a light kiss to his temple. “Things are always going to happen that will take you by surprise, Alexander,” Magnus said softly. “I’m centuries old and I’m still surprised by something every day. It’s a fact of life. It’s unavoidable.”

“I know,” Alec mumbled, “but Jace and Izzy have been through so much. Clary and Simon, too. They all have. They don’t deserve to carry the weight of whatever the next bad thing is.”

“And you do?” Magnus asked quietly. Alec looked away, and Magnus knew he had his answer.

Magnus hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. He wouldn’t be able to convince Alec that he didn’t deserve to be unhappy any more than his siblings & friends did right now, but he couldn’t just let the statement go unaddressed.

“My love, look at me.” Magnus urged Alec with a gentle press of his hand to the other’s cheek. Reluctantly, Alec obeyed, bright cerulean meeting unglamoured gold. “How have we gotten through everything else this world has decided to throw at us?”

“By...winning?” Alec said, raising an eyebrow at Magnus. Magnus chuckled and placed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek.

“Sure, we won,” Magnus conceded, “but how did we win?”

Realisation dawned on Alec and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Together,” he said numbly. “We won together.”

“Precisely.”

Alec sighed and turned to bury his face in Magnus’s shoulder. Magnus smiled sadly and wrapped his arms around his Shadowhunter.

“You don’t have to carry all of the weight,” he whispered into Alec’s ear. “Let us help you. Let me help you.”

Alec exhaled shakily and gave him a slow nod. Magnus squeezed his husband tighter and pressed a kiss to his matted black hair, a silent ‘thank you’. Alec dropped a kiss of his own to Magnus’s shoulder blade - ‘you’re welcome’.

“Can we go home?” Alec asked, his voice muffled by the fabric of Magnus’s shirt. Magnus felt tears well up in his eyes. It didn’t seem like much, but for Alec, it was phenomenal. He was asking for what he wanted, what he needed. He was asking for help.

Magnus was more than willing to provide.

“Of course,” Magnus said, gathering Alec in his arms. He gave a short flick of his fingers to open a portal and guided them through.

The second they were in the loft, the tension in Alec’s shoulders disappeared and he sagged against Magnus. Magnus felt wetness on his shirt, and his heart broke for his husband. How long had he been keeping this bottled up inside of him?

“Come on, love,” Magnus said, and gently prodded Alec to sit down on the couch. Alec gave a long, shaky sigh and curled against Magnus’s side.

“Next time you need to be held, just tell me,” Magnus requested. He shifted just enough so he could wrap his arms around his husband, and Alec eagerly leaned into the embrace.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Shh, don’t be sorry,” Magnus said, smoothing Alec’s hair back from his forehead. “I know these things are not black and white. Sometimes there isn’t a right answer.” He drew back and cupped Alec’s cheek in his palm, his heart constricting when the Shadowhunter leaned into the touch like he hadn’t been touched so kindly in years. “I know you are trying, darling. I know you talk to me more than you used to, more than you used to talk to anyone. I appreciate that.” He pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s forehead. “I just don’t want to see you hurting yourself, my love.”

More tears rained down onto Magnus’s shirt, and he held Alec close and cooed to him quietly. “Shh, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s okay, darling. I promise.”

Alec shook his head fiercely. “Told you I’d tell you when things got too bad,” he cried. “Let you down. Failed.”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Magnus said, pushing himself back just enough to meet Alec’s watery blue eyes. “You did not fail, nor did you let me down. It’s okay, Alexander. I promise you. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Alec closed his eyes, allowing the tears he had been fighting all day to slip down his cheeks freely. Magnus soothed him with gentle touches and kind, soft words. He knew his Shadowhunter didn’t get nearly enough of them.

Hearing Alec sob with abandon made his own tears spill over, but there was a large, warm part of his heart that reminded him that this was good, this was Alec letting go, this was progress. This was Alec letting Magnus in, letting him help. And he couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

I really hope you like this, even if it’s different than what you were expecting! 

Thank you for the prompt!

send me sensory prompts

[carmenlire]

"When I look at you, I see my world and that scares the sh*t out of me." for Malec ohohoh

Ahhhh this was so much fun!! Thank you!!

read on ao3

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Goddamnit. God damn him. He was a fucking assassin. A killer for hire. He carried a tattoo for every man he’d ever killed and he had more offshore accounts than most people had dollar bills. He was very rich and very skilled and now here he was protecting his target against another threat.

The Institute was going to kill him and then kill him.

Alec ducks a swing from one of the men, adjusts his grip on his knife before slicing through the man’s shirt, hitting skin underneath in a shallow cut. It does nothing more than piss them both off and Alec’s well aware that the only way to win is to live.

He takes a deep breath, bellows out, “Run,” and watches in relief as he sees Magnus take off from his peripheral.

If he makes it out of this, they’ll talk. If he doesn’t, at least he made it so that Magnus would live another day, so that he wouldn’t have to see Alec get eviscerated by his own blade.

In the fight for his life– for both their lives– Alec knows he’s pathetically and tragically distracted.

He thinks about the past three months. Magnus was a rival, a fellow assassin who’d get any job done as long as the check cleared and the men were guilty. The first weeks had been a comedy of errors. They’d danced around each other, lost in the game between them, both determined to win this duel of wits.

But something had changed. First Magnus had earned his respect, and then Alec had started noticing things about him. The way the light hit his eyes and turned them golden. The way he carried his signature weapon, a nine millimeter pistol, with ease and elegance. There’d been barbed jokes and leading questions.

Each day that Alec let Magnus live was another day that his team back at headquarters grew more confused, increasingly antsy.

But Alec just couldn’t do it. For fuck’s sake, they’d shared a hotel room two weeks ago and murder had been the last thing on his mind. No, Alec and Magnus hadn’t traded veiled threats. There’d been no wariness, no questioning. They hadn’t slept all night but it hadn’t been a precaution– they’d been far too preoccupied to wonder whether the other man would stab them in the back before morning.

Which brings Alec to now.

The life of an assassin is doomed. It’s a fact of life and something that Alec’s long since accepted.

Things are different now, though.

Foolishly, Alec had been planning to walk away from it all. Take his offshore bank accounts, grab Magnus’s hand, and run away from the only life he’d ever known.

How unfortunate that the bad guys never act according to plan.

Alec groans as the henchman lands a lucky hit that’s quickly followed by an expert stab to his thigh. As his leg collapses underneath him, Alec hears a single gunshot.

He’s in too much pain to wonder where it came from, though. He knows there’s no hope for him and that his idealized future is going up in smoke as his consciousness wavers.

He’s laying on the ground when he feels gentle hands on his face.

“Alexander, darling, stay with me. Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to leave me.”

Groggy, Alec slurs, “I thought you left. You were supposed to leave. Run, Magnus.”

“Hush, Alec. You’re safe. Aldertree’s goon is dead and it’s just you and me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alec only hears every third word and he’s growing more disoriented by the minute. “You ran away. You left me. You’re supposed to be gone. I need you safe.”

Alec’s eyes are closed so that he doesn’t see Magnus’s lips tremble. He’s so far gone– the man had hit an artery and he was bleeding out– that he doesn’t feel Magnus’s shaking fingers ghosting along his cheek.

“When I look at you, I see my world and that scares the shit out of me. I learned a long time ago that friends were a liability and anything more was pure stupidity.”

He brushes Alec’s hair back, almost collapsing as he hears the ambulance’s sirens a few miles away. “But you’ve changed me, darling. You’ve opened my eyes. I’ve known since that first night. I’d slipped into the courtyard behind you and you didn’t hear me. I could’ve killed you then. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t understand but I left you out there, in the rain and the cold and I disappeared. And we kept running into each other and every time you smiled and every time you let me leave unscathed, my world grew a little warmer.

“You can’t die on me, Alexander. I decided a few days ago to take you and run as fast as I can as far as I can. I can’t go back to a world that’s black and white and a million shades of gray. Not when I know how extraordinary you look in color.”

A smile ghosts on Alec’s lips. Magnus leans down and chases it, terrified when Alec, always warm and verging on hot, is ice cold.

He tries to stop the bleeding but there’s just so much and Magnus is perilously close to growing hysterical. It was absurd how much things could change in just a few short months but he wouldn’t change any of it. He wouldn’t change goddamn thing as long as at the end of the line, Alec and him were standing together, whole and well.

Alec goes limp just as the ambulance pulls up in the abandoned parking lot.

They work on Alec as Magnus clings to his hand, all the while shooting poisonous looks at the dead man lying just feet away.

Magnus follows Alec into the ambulance. It’s a long night and he has to explain everything a dozen times– to police officers, claiming to be federal agents, and to Alec’s family. They’re surprised, scandalized when they realize it’s Magnus Bane calling them but they rush to the hospital all the same.

When they reach the waiting room and see Magnus sitting in a hard plastic chair, dazed and covered in their brother’s blood, the puzzle completes itself. They remember Alec’s furtive looks and the tension that hadn’t left his shoulders in months.

They see the reason for the sudden light in Alec’s eyes and know that Magnus is on their side.

When the doctor walks in and informs them that Alec is conscious and out of the woods, Magnus sways where he’s standing. He doesn’t even look at Jace or Izzy as he follows the doctor to Alec’s room.

When he crosses the threshold, he breathes for the first time in hours as he sees his love awake and alert.

“Alexander,” Magnus murmurs, gently pushing his hair off his forehead. In the next minute, he’s leaning down until their noses brush. “I love you,” he breathes.

Alec looks a little groggy but his grin is a million watts as he replies, “I love you, too.”

They share a kiss and when Magnus pulls back, Alec hums. He looks up, expression just a hint mischievous. “I seem to remember someone saying that I looked like their world.”

Magnus laughs and ignores the edge of tears in it. “Who would have thought that two rival killers for hire would fall for each other?”

Alec’s quiet for a minute as he looks at Magnus, serious. “I’ve known since the first time I saw you that something was different.”

Magnus smiles softly and kisses Alec again. They’re interrupted by a loud harrumph and pull back to see Alec’s family at the door.

What follows are three days of intense planning. Jace and Izzy scheme along with them and keep The Institute out of their hair and out of their lives. For good.

Magnus and Alec solidify their feelings, sharing intense discussions and heated debates.

Alec’s released from the hospital seventy-two hours later.

He’s never heard from again and no one can pin down the man who never left his side. When questioned, Jace and Isabelle claim ignorance. They’re eventually cleared and it’s only months later that both are honorably discharged from their organization.

They lead a civilian life, living half a world away and forming their own families.

By a stroke of luck and sheer coincidence, they choose the same city as Magnus and Alec.

Magnus’s world grows unimaginably rich and fuller than he could’ve dreamed. When their kids ask how they meet years later, both Alec and Magnus share small smiles and just explain that they were business rivals, remaining tight lipped on the details.

Everyone lives happily ever after.