willisthatyou:

His mouth was soft against hers, his hands in her hair, scattering white berries across the stone steps. Tessa held fast to Will as the snow swirled around them. Through the windows of the Institute, she could hear the faint sound of the music playing in the ballroom: the pianoforte, the cello, and rising above it all, like sparks leaping toward the sky, the sweet, celebratory strains of the violin. (x)

(via linetteherondale)

willisthatyou:

“…because in the end this was never the great love story of Tessa and Will (though they have a great love) or Tessa and Jem (though they have a great love) or even Will and Jem (though they have a great love) but the love of Tessa, Will and Jem. The three of them. When Tessa and Will kiss on the stairs at the Institute, they hear the violin: that symbolized Jem. When Tessa and Jem kiss at the end, Will is very much present for both of them: it is no dishonor to his memory, but rather the greatest thing they could have done for him: the thing he would have wished for above all other things, that the two people he loved most in the world would be happy when he was gone. They are and will always be, a triad.” - Cassandra Clare (x)

Art by Cassandra Jean (x)

(via mehlurk)

willsbuttdragontattoo:

“Marry me,” he said. “Marry me, Tess. Marry me and be Tessa Herondale. Or be Tessa Gray, or be whatever you wish to call yourself, but marry me and stay with me and never leave me, for I cannot bear another day of my life to go by that does not have you in it.” The snow was swirling down around them, white and cold and perfect. The clouds above had parted, and through the gaps she could see the stars. “Jem told me what Ragnor Fell said about my father,” Will went on. “That for my father there was only ever one woman he loved, and it was her for him, or nothing. You are that for me. I love you, and I will only ever love you until I die—” “Will!” He bit his lip. His hair was thick with snow, his lashes starred with flakes. “Was that too grand a statement? Did I frighten you? You know how I am with words—” “Oh, I do.” “I recall what you said to me once,” Will went on. “That words have the power to change us. Your words have changed me, Tess; they have made me a better man than I would have been otherwise. Life is a book, and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read. I would read them together with you, as many as I can, before I die—” She put her hand against his chest, just over his heart, and felt its beat against her palm, a unique time signature that was all its own. “I only wish you would not speak of dying,” she said. “But even for that, yes, I know how you are with your words, and, Will —I love all of them. Every word you say. The silly ones, the mad ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me. I love them, and I love you.” Will began to speak, but Tessa covered his mouth with her hand. “I love your words, my Will, but hold them for a moment,” she said, and smiled into his eyes. “Think of all the words I have held inside all this time, while I did not know your intentions. When you came to me in the drawing room and told me that you loved me, it was the hardest thing I have ever done to send you away. You said you loved the words of my heart, the shape of my soul. I remember. I remember every word you said from that day to this. I will never forget them. There are so many words I wish to say to you, and so many I wish to hear you say to me. I hope we have all our lives to say them to each other.” “Then you will marry me?” Will said, looking dazed, as if he did not quite believe in his good fortune. “Yes,” she said—the last, the simplest, and most important word of all. And Will, who had words for every occasion, opened his mouth and closed it on silence, and instead reached for her to pull her against him. Her wrap fell onto the stairs, but his arms were warm around her, and his mouth hot against hers as he slanted his head down to kiss her. He tasted like snowflakes and wine, like winter and Will and London. His mouth was soft against hers, his hands in her hair, scattering white berries across the stone steps. Tessa held fast to Will as the snow swirled around them.

(Source: asscrownnoahshaw, via herondaleinstitute)

and when he was done, and he’d set the violin back in its box, Will’s eyes were closed, but Tessa’s were full of tears. Jem set down his bow, and came toward the bed, drawing back his hood, so she could see his closed eyes and his scarred face. And he had sat down beside them on the bed, and taken Will’s hand, the one that Tessa was not holding, and both Will and Tessa had heard Jem’s voice in their minds. I take your hand, brother, so that you may go in peace. Will had opened the blue eyes that had never lost their color over all the passing years, and looked at Jem and then Tessa, and smiled, and died, with Tessa’s head on his shoulder and his hand in Jem’s.

(Source: iloveyourwordsmywill, via willisthatyou)

The Herondales by Cassandra Jean

(Source: linetteherondale, via demonpox)