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seviida

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"Hey girl, welcome home. Your house is totally not more haunted than it was when you left and all your pets and/or relatives are still alive and well."

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really, I hope you read this and you know it’s for you.

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Sometimes it rains 💜🌱

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Wisteria

Albert Watson

1985

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by Anonymous Ink & Idea

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Howl’s Moving Castle - Fan art by Julia Tveritina

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sunday downpour

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This is what you end it with Cassandra I stg

Dru to Kit

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Emma To Bruce

Dear Bruce,

We did it! The curse is broken! Rupert is free! Long live Rupert!

In retrospect, it’s insane how much of this we tried to do by ourselves. We should have known that when we finally succeeded we would do it with a whole team present—in this case Jem, Tessa, Kit, and Magnus. (Mina assisted by raising morale and drawing all over everything with her toy stele.)

Everyone’s still here, too, and we can relax a little in a newly uncursed house. (It really is quite homey, now that it’s been cleaned up and, you know, had its demonic aura dispelled.) Everyone except Magnus, who left this afternoon in a great rush to get back to New York.

New paragraph to talk about this, actually, because I have a lot of questions that don’t have answers and I can only ask you, Bruce. So Magnus was in a hurry to get back because of a meeting Alec is holding with Luke and some other Downworlders about plans for negotiating with the Cohort. Okay, but I feel like the Cohort doesn’t have much leverage, right? The situation is way worse for them than for us. We should be able to wait them out—shouldn’t we?

I mean they have a symbolic advantage, I guess. We’re all Shadowhunters and we all miss Idris and Alicante and Lake Lyn and probably a lot of us left stuff there we can’t get back and oh right, also a lot of people lived there who have had to evacuate all over the world and want to get back. I get that. But, like…what are the Cohort even eating in there? Idris doesn’t really grow food. Are they all homesteading in there? Raising crops? Churning butter? It’s kind of hard to imagine Zara doing any of that. But you never know. I mean, there aren’t even any demons to fight in there. Which is a good reminder that Shadowhunters are definitely not meant to hole up in Idris where there’s no demons for them to fight. I feel like Raziel was pretty clear on that point.

They must be losing their minds in there. I hope they found some board games or something.

Maybe Zara has declared herself Queen for Life and she doesn’t have to farm because she just marches around threatening to kill anybody who doesn’t grow her a potato right this instant.

Or maybe we haven’t heard anything because they all ate each other in there. Or maybe they mutinied against Zara and someone else gets to threaten to kill people now.

Okay, end of pondering the Cohort. I’m in a good mood, or was before I started this entry, anyway. We’ve been hanging out with Jem and Tessa and Kit and it’s really great. We ordered in Chinese (delivery couriers are always a bit terrified to come up the driveway, but we tip them like crazy so they’ve started to know us while we’ve been here). We lit candles—for ambience instead of for dark magic, what an idea!—and ate dumplings until we were too full to move, a thing I haven’t done since Magnus and Alec’s wedding. Apparently if I am offered dumplings, I will eat them until I become a dumpling myself. To that I say: I would never reject becoming that which I love most.

Anyway. Even Kit was less broody than usual tonight! He was hanging out with Round Tom and they seemed to be getting on okay. Oh, and I almost forgot! How could I forget! The workers found a coffin buried in the garden. But there was not a horrifying dead body inside, but rather a bunch of old stuff! Using a coffin as a time capsule seemed like a weird choice to me, but Tessa and Jem made some faces and some noises that suggested there was a long-ish story there we’ll have to ask about later.

Anyway, in the coffin was A SCABBARD FOR CORTANA. I mean, right? Can you believe it? Tessa said it used to belong to Cordelia Carstairs, who was Cortana’s wielder generations ago. The scabbard needs a lot of cleaning (a lot of cleaning) but then it can be reunited with Cortana. (After all, I think it’s probably more Cortana’s possession than anyone else’s; perhaps they’ll be happy to be reunited.)

There was also a sword for Julian—what used to be a Blackthorn family sword, but this one is only a hilt, its blade is totally missing, I have no idea why. He’s talking about getting it reforged. Big shock, Round Tom knows a guy. Triangular Jerry. No, I’m kidding on the name, but Round Tom actually does know a blacksmith and he and Julian have started talking about getting that done. (Actually, what Round Tom wants to do is have a forge installed at Chiswick, which is a cool idea, but do we want another building project on top of all the others? I mean, maybe, having a forge here at the house would be pretty cool.)

Oh, you might be wondering about Rupert’s ring, since it’s not like he could take it with him, and he hasn’t come back for it in a ghost way. Magnus checked it out and said no magic any more, just an ordinary ring Tatiana must have enchanted to bind Rupert. But none of us is going to wear it, of course. So we put it on the mantelpiece in the drawing room. Where it will remain.

The Gray-Carstairs-Herondaleses are heading back to Cirenworth tomorrow. It’s been really great having them here, but you know, it will be nice to have them go and have it be just Julian and I here in the house, not feeling creepy all the time. That seems like good times for us.

#

Bruce, good times are canceled. Everything’s gone wrong. I guess I was a little too smug about how everything was going; the universe had to come and screw it up for me.

Mina is gone.

And by gone I mean kidnapped.

And by kidnapped I mean, the kidnapper left a creepy old-timey porcelain doll (with wide, dead eyes, ugh) in her place, and a note.

I had just finished writing the above stuff when I heard a horrible scream from upstairs and loud footsteps, and came out to find everyone gathered in Mina’s room staring in horror.

I immediately thought oh no, another curse, or the same curse, the curse isn’t over, and maybe you did too, but that’s not what this is. This is something else entirely. Something involving faeries. Something involving Faerie.

Tess picked up the note, read it, and handed it to Jem with a bad look on her face. Julian was already opening the window to see if anyone could be spotted outside, and I read over Jem’s shoulder:

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every shadowhunter fan to every single tsc character:

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Kit to Dru

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Emma to Jem

Dear Jem,

As promised, the newest updates on the House That Wouldn’t Stop Being Cursed. Spoiler alert: I think we’re going to need your help again. (Ask Kit if you don’t know what a “spoiler” is.)

So here’s where we are: we’ve assembled all of the items—we think—that are tied to the curse. We placed them all in the dining room together and lit some candles, but nothing happened. Julian said it was like we were trying to get the objects to have a romantic evening together. I guess it was optimistic to think things would be that simple!

During the past few weeks we’ve collected a number of books on curse-breaking. And looked up some stuff about it on the Internet, though I have to say you never know with “online” whether you’re accessing a real magic spell or something tied to some kind of game. Julian, of course, had already read the books, and noted the similarities between most of the curse-breaking spells. They all require cursed objects to be brought together, and for candles made of pure tallow to be lit. Fortunately we were able to grab tallow candles at the Shadow Market, and we arranged them in a circle around the objects. When we lit them, it did look very mysterious and magicy.

We combined several of the Latin spells in the books to try to get something workable. A sort of We call out for the curse laid upon these objects to be broken, in the name of the Angel Raziel. We tried to make ourselves sound very important, like we knew Raziel well and would be having a pint down at the pub with him once the curse breaking was over.

Now, I’m sure you’re staring in horror that we decided to do this ourselves, and you’re right, we shouldn’t have, but we were just so excited to have all the objects that we thought it was worth at least a try. After all, how wrong could it go?

Answer: very wrong! A chill, clammy wind immediately rose up inside the dining room and swirled in circles, blowing out most of the candles. I started shivering, not because it was cold (although it was suddenly very cold) but because my skin was crawling. I had a terrible sense of encroaching darkness, like my vision was beginning to fade at the edges. Julian started paging through the books fast, looking for some kind of cancellation spell.

And then, of course, the music box on the sideboard began playing by itself. And not the tune it usually plays, which is a Strauss waltz. This was some other tune, something dissonant and harsh (as harsh as the tinkly sounds of a music box can be, I suppose). And it was loud, much louder than any music box could be, like the sound was being picked up and whirled around the room.

“Nooo.” It was a harshly breathed word, and I felt a presence sweep into the room. Rupert, half-transparent and looking furious. He swept a glowing hand through the candles, snuffing out the flames. Thank the Angel, the wind died down and the chill went out of the air. And I felt like I could breathe again. Julian and I stared at each other.

“Nephilim,” Rupert breathed. It was probably the most we’ve ever heard him say, in terms of real distinct words and phrases. I don’t know if it was because he was angry, or because the curse-breaking spell had had a tiny effect. “Nephilim — do not play with magic. Tatiana played with magic. She was . . . destroyed.” He was so upset that the features of his face seemed to be rearranging themselves, his eyes widening to be huge like an anime drawing. His mouth turned down at the sides. “Not worth destroying yourselves,” he whispered. “Find another way. Or leave me prisoned.”

And with that, he disappeared — kind of flew apart in white-silver pieces, like papers blowing on the wind.

A shudder went up my spine. Rupert. I think I liked him better when he could only move things around in the dust.

Anyway, we could use your help. Maybe it’s that we need a warlock to do the right magic, but the more we look at the items we’ve collected the more we wonder if one of them is wrong. We’ve followed some sketchy clues to find them, after all. And we’ve bothered Hypatia, Magnus, and Ragnor so much that I don’t think we could bear to have one of them come and then tell us it’s the objects that are the problem.

So…would you and Tessa be willing to come visit and check out the situation? Maybe you’ll be able to tell something about the objects since you recognized some of them. And between an ex-Silent Brother and a warlock I’m sure you’d bring enough magical wisdom to work out what we should be doing. We’d love to see all four of you, in fact, if you’d like to make it a family outing. We can watch Mina for you! There will be scones! And now that the faeries have gotten rid of all the hogweed choking the gardens, they’re looking very nice. Lovely for walks, or if Kit is in a teenage brooding mood, they’re great for brooding. Did I mention the scones?

Love,

Emma