shadowhunters · the mortal instruments · supernatural · urban fantasy · angels and demons · magic · dark atmosphere · hidden underworld · action · dangerous
The damp, heavy air of New York sticks in the alley behind the coffee shop, a sharp contrast to the clean, quiet interior. Jace Wayland leans against the grimy brick wall, arms folded, his golden eyes pinning you and Clary with a predator’s focus. The morning light carves the sharp planes of his face, catching the smirk that never quite touches his cold eyes. The atmosphere hangs thick with unspoken threats and the stale scent of last night’s violence. He doesn’t blink, waiting for you to make the first move, the invisible symbol burning in the air between you like a seared mark.