“We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.” ― Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire
SHADOWHUNTERS CHRONICLES:vibrant colours + THE LAST HOURS
“How dare you come here, Will Herondale,” she said, a savage tone to her voice. “What is left for you to destroy? You murdered my husband and my father —“Lucie made a small whimpering noise. Cordelia clutched at her cold hand, squeezing it for comfort.“That’s James.” It was Grace, dressed all in a long white nightgown with a white dressing-gown over it. White slippers covered her feet and her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. “It isn’t Mr. Herondale, Mama. It’s his son.”
Parabatai → James Herondale & Matthew Fairchild ↳ (Spoilers: Quote from the Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy below)
“We don’t … have to be parabatai,” Matthew said, his voice quiet
under the sound of the blast. “I said it to make your father take me
with you, so I could execute my new plan, but we don’t … have to. I
mean, unless you … maybe want to be.”
James had thought he wanted a friend like himself, a parabatai who was shy and quiet and would enter in on James’s feelings
about the terror of parties. Instead here was Matthew, who was the life
and soul of every party, who made dreadful hairbrush decisions, who was
unexpectedly and terribly kind. Who had tried to be his friend and kept
trying, even though James did not know what trying to be a friend
looked like. Who could see James, even when he was a shadow.
“Yes,” James said simply.
- Cassandra Clare, Tales from The Shadowhunter Academy