HI—I don't own Mortal instruments but I Do own the plot I will be using! This is just a short beginning to see if this is worth writing! Let me know!
Clary crouched atop the dirty Brooklyn rooftop, the wind pushing her ever so slightly causing her to lean out over the alley across from pandemonium. Her black books were sooty and her house keys
shone in the dim light from her witch light, her pale freckled knee cap showing slightly through the hole in her black tights, her stele was tucked into her boot. She reached to retrieve it, bracing herself
emotionally for the task at hand and pulled back her jacket sleeve, drawing an agility rune in the crook under her elbow. the jacket had belonged to Jace, it was big and bulky on her but it was a reminder
of better times, and she was possibly walking it to Armageddon and in this moment, she drew a deep breath and jumped.
She landed on the balls of her feet, a few meters behind the line for admittance to the club. Clary knew that if she was going to see them again even if from afar this would be the place to do so. Nobody
saw her fall, and no one noticed her in line. She didn't exactly stick out to these people. It wasn't them she needed to hide from. Her red hair was loose around her shoulders, cascading down her back she
knew this was risky but some part of her wanted—needed, him to see it, even just a glimpse so he would know she was alive. Clary reached the front of the line and slipped through the door with a simple
glamour, immediately bombarded by fog, lights and bad trap music. She wove through the crowd, staying on the edges and seeking higher ground, she was almost to the top step when she saw it. Golden
skin, interrupted by inky black runes, deliciously wrapped by a tight black T-shirt. Her heart was cracking as she saw the golden hair she remembered that night in Edom when she ran her fingers through
it, engulfed in heavenly fire. Her heart was in her throat when she saw him turn and whisper into the ear of the man next to him, tall, almost lanky with eyes like lake lyn. It was almost too much for Clary
to handle. She turned on her heel and wove through the crowd as quickly as she could fighting the tears and bile threatening to come crashing out of her it was then when she heard the voice she tried so
hard to forget over the longest year of her life.
"Alec—Behind you! Ravener demon? Does it have to be there's no way—A-Alec? Stop it" as the scream of the man she loved died out an arrow, true and bound in glimmering gold tore into her right bicep,
gasping Clary turned. She had been seen and not only seen, but they had also thought a shape-shifting demon was playing tricks on them. Clary remembered saying almost silently as she fell, "oh Jace
Herondale, it's a good thing mundies are blind" she felt warm hands grab her face gently, she opened her eyes to be met with the most heartbroken and angry Nephilim she had ever seen. "…Clary? Tell me
it's really you? What does this mean? Alec? We need to get her to the institute" she sighed as she succumbed, if only she had thought that Magnus would've started enchanting alec's arrows, the sleeping
potion was paralyzing but, not unwelcome, she had been running since her mothers wedding, that final night she gifted herself before she had to carry out Asmodeus wishes.