Tumgik
#octavian blackthorn
herondaleminds · 7 months
Text
Octavian means The Eighth. But there are only seven Blackthorn siblings. Do you know what that means? Andrew and Eleanor Blackthorn have considered Emma as one of theirs
204 notes · View notes
gabs2023 · 10 months
Text
When you’re rereading City if Heavenly Fire and spend the whole last 3 chapters crying because everything is unfair and the Blackthorns should be able to stay together and Jonathan Morgenstern should’ve had a chance in life and fucking Simon Lewis is selfless idiot👍😬😢😢
36 notes · View notes
Text
A Typical Blackthorn Family Reunion: A Summary
Some Probably New Clave Member: “Consul, we’ve caught some really strange Shadowhunter's doing something incredibly illegal.”
Alec: “Then they’ll face justice accordingly. Who are the offenders?”
Some Probably New Clave Member: “Six Blackthorns, a Carstairs, a Herondale - or possibly a Rook it was a bit confusing - a Wrayburn, a Penhallow, and three Rosales’; although they claim they’re all ‘honorary Blackthorns’? Also, we didn’t arrest them cause they’re not Shadowhunter’s, but these three Fae guys are here too, and yelling about ‘injustice’?”
Alec: “...I mean, you’ve heard of the Blackthorn family’s motto about laws, right? Who’re we to mess with their traditions?”
Some Probably New Clave Member: “But half of them aren’t even Blackthorns-”
Alec: “They’re honorary ones; weren’t you listening?”
99 notes · View notes
lilycallowayx23 · 1 year
Text
today I will mourn the loss of not having a tsc triology for older Octavian blackthorn
85 notes · View notes
blackthornv · 7 months
Text
TWP: my arthurian headcanon - Interlude
Ok, i meant to do part 3 and then the interlude but the interlude goes better near pt.2 so...
Warnings: 1) You better show some respect for my boy Tavvy. 2) He is just a sweet little baby. 3) All Blackthorn Siblings will plot your death if you disrespect him.
I know, i know, he won't be a major character in The Wicked Powers BUT HE IS A MAJOR CHARACTER IN MY HEART SO BE SILENT WHILE I RANT.
Octavian Blackthorn, seventh of the Seven Blackthorn Siblings: my lovely Lancelot of the Lake. Lancelot is commonly known as Guinevere's affair, the bright knight with a pristine record until he fell for his Queen. He had a strong connection with the Holy Grail but ultimately failed in achieving his full glory due to his earthly sins.
In part 1 i used the Black Book of the Dead as an allegory for the Holy Grail, and compared Ash to Galahad because they were the only ones to survive its powers - and become and elevated being after that connection. In LM, Octavian was targeted to be the final sacrifice the prophecy required. However, he is deprived from that (horrible) faith by his family - his own earthly connection, here, storge instead of eros.
But my main argument is this: as a young child, Lancelot is left orphaned and the Lady of the Lake takes him as her pupil and raises him in her own domain. Her influence it's the first to shape his character.
When we first meet the Blackthorns, Octavian and Drusilla are not there. Emma, Julian, Mark, Livvy and Ty are in the same room (Helen has already been introduced and is abroad) when Sebastian invades the Institute: this is the day Andrew Blackthorn dies. Emma runs to find Dru and Tavvy when she realizes what is happening and this is how we are introduced to them: Drusilla is 8 years old and is trying to maintain hold of a heavy sword to protect her baby brother from harm, doing her best to keep her composure for the sake of a scared 2 year old Tavvy, even though at the time she hadn't started her training yet.
Now the Blackthorns are officially war orphans. Octavian and Drusilla are the very last of the Blackthorn family, oftentimes in the company of each other. When Tavvy is taken by Malcom in LM, Dru is the one with him (until she was convinced to leave); when the twins leave to their own adventures, Dru is the one tasked to take care of him; in the majority of the last book Octavian's actions and behaviors are influenced by Drusilla's own actions and behaviors.
At last, i'll leave you with the part that broke my heart (and Dru's):
“No!” Tavvy wailed as Dru pushed him toward Maryse and the red front door of the Graymark house. “No, ’Silla, I want to go with you! NO! ” he shrieked, the word tearing her heart as she let go of him and backed away.”
15 notes · View notes
hopestrope · 10 months
Text
Thank you @kaitcreates for this idea!
Also, I wanted to specify "other than Livvy" because on a previous poll it was mostly agreed that she will go back to being dead. And since she already died once it wouldn't really count.
27 notes · View notes
kitheronthorn · 1 year
Text
ty and tavvy look like father and son
Tumblr media
54 notes · View notes
vixs48 · 1 year
Text
guys where are the fanfics about julian being a dad to his siblings??? i need this!!
22 notes · View notes
drusilla-carstairs · 2 months
Text
Round 1B
Tumblr media Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
lifeofbrybooks · 1 year
Text
changes — no merit
Tavvy Blackthorn, Julian Blackthorn, Emma Carstairs, and just Blackthorn family chaos word count: 5,023 read on Ao3
Visiting Blackthorn Hall so close to Emma's due date probably wasn't the best decision for an easily panicked 15-year-old Tavvy. AKA that baby blackstairs fic I've been holding onto for months.
changes
“What are you doing?!” Tavvy screamed in horror as he watched Emma dip a Goldfish Cracker into a jar of peanut butter and pop it into her mouth. “I didn’t bring those for you to desecrate!”
“Octavian,” Julian exhaled from his position at the stove. A towel was thrown over his shoulder, a well-worn apron tied around his faded purple hoodie as he sipped at the mug in his hand. He was making pancakes at Tavvy’s request. The smell of sweet vanilla mixing with bitter coffee and the crackle of an ancient radio on the windowsill was enough to overwhelm him with foggy memories of sleepy mornings watching Julian go through the same routine back home. 
This wasn’t home though. Far from it. This was Blackthorn Hall’s kitchen with its dull beige walls, muted blue cabinets, rain-pattered windows and Emma defiling his favorite snack right before his very eyes.
“What? You’re just gonna sit there and let her commit crimes against humanity in your own home? Control your wife, Jules!”
“It’s our home,” Julian smiled over at Emma, and Tavvy almost lost his appetite. Almost. “Em can do whatever she pleases.” He pointed the spatula at her and added with narrowed eyebrows, “Within reason.”
“I’m growing a little Shadowhunter,” she defended through a laugh and a spoonful of peanut butter that muddled her syllables. She gently patted her protruding belly. What month was she on again? Eight? Nine? She looked like a balloon ready to pop. However, Tavvy valued his life juuuuuuust enough to keep that thought to himself.
Instead he asked, “What does that have to do with you being disgusting?”
“Tavvy,” Julian warned, looking cautiously over his shoulder. “They’re cravings. They’re -”
“I don’t need you to mansplain cravings to me. I’m not four.” 
“Mansplain?”
Tavvy let his head fall against the counter with a heavy thunk followed by a heavier sigh. How was his brother so damn smart yet so fucking dumb at the same time? Emma giggled and pulled up a stool beside him. 
“Try it, Tavs.” She held a Jif-covered Goldfish out to him, and he buried his head in the crook of his elbow to hide from the abomination. She cooed at him, “Come on, Big T! Give it a shot.”
“I was nice enough to smuggle you snacks, and this is what I get?” He mumbled to the countertop. “Tortured?”
“I’ll cry.”
“You wouldn’t.” He peaked up at her with one eye.
“She would,” Julian smirked and flipped a pancake.
“So you’ve swapped knives for tears? You’ve gone soft Emma.”
“Oh no,” she slid a dagger from a sheath under her loose ruffled dress and dropped it on the table with a labored breath. “I still have my knives. Tears first and knives second. Cortana if things go south.”
“The Emma I once knew would do Cortana first,” he joked, lifting his head when he heard the crunch of his threat being eliminated. Emma was watching him with eyes that were a little misty. Mushy and soft. Like sand after a rain shower. She was actually going to cry.
But another look crossed her face that told more. A distant gaze said she wasn’t seeing him the way he was now, but maybe a different version of him. A smaller version. Quieter. Softer. Easier. 
The vanilla must be getting to her, too.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing away from the counter. He scooted his stool closer to lean his head on her shoulder, trying to avoid her long hair tickling his nose, as he used affection to bridge the gap between them. She leaned into him, too, holding her outgrown stomach with one hand and using the other to smoosh his face against hers. 
“You’re extra cute when you’re scared,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek with a loud, wet smacking sound.
“Gross!” Tavvy wiped at his face with his sleeve as Julian set heaping plates in front of them. 
He was about to ask for powdered sugar when his brother brought over a sifter. “I didn’t forget,” Jules said with a quiet smile. 
“Thanks,” he answered softly, picking up a fork and ignoring the catch in his throat. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.” He snapped around to catch Emma crushing crackers on top of her syrup-soaked pancake stack. She didn’t even like syrup! But she didn’t seem bothered … or ashamed … as she shoved a big bite into her mouth with a smile.
“Better than pickles,” Julian let a laugh slip out as he set the pan in the sink and took off his apron. “I’ll never recover from the pickles.”
Tavvy couldn’t stop his face from contorting at all the possibilities. He had to ask, “Did it involve peanut butter?”
“Worse,” Jules said, settling on a stool in front of them. “Nutella.”
Tavvy’s fork clattered to the counter. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“Me too,” Julian mouthed, his hand blocking Emma’s view. 
“I’m feeling very judged right now,” She stabbed a fork in their direction and narrowed her eyes. “This is a judgment-free zone.”
“I didn’t see a sign anywhere.”
“Punk.” Emma tossed a Goldfish at him, and Tavvy leaned his head back to catch it in his mouth before casually returning to his pancakes. 
Something about the laughs that followed, Jules’ low and throaty and Em’s high and airy, made Tavvy smile. It felt familiar. Like drinking hot chocolate from a thermos on the beach on a chilly day. 
Maybe this trip to Chiswick wouldn’t be as hellish as he thought.
...
Tavvy couldn’t sleep. 
Probably because it wasn’t even dinner time back home, and it was somehow one in the morning here. Emma and Jules were sound asleep. He was left alone in his own head. A bad place to be. With horrendous consequences.
He sat cross-legged on his bed with the quilted blue comforter and stack of Pokémon plushies from a different time. The view of the Pacific Ocean from the L.A. Institute’s studio was painted on one wall and a window that looked out over Blackthorn Hall’s gloomy courtyard sat on the other. He watched as the moon trickled light through the front gate, illuminating the sharp briars that wound their way up the metal posts like creeping shadows.
Tavvy sighed and tossed the book he was reading onto the floor. He texted Ana:
You up?
It’s literally like 5:30. ofc I’m awake loser.
Well you’re an old lady now so I thought maybe you had an earlier bedtime
You’re lucky you’re on a different continent or I’d Nancy Carrigan your knees
You watch one documentary and suddenly you’re a figure skating expert 🙄 … also if you break my kneecaps your knees will also suffer. Parabatai bond and all that
I’ll take the pain to teach you a lesson.
If I punch myself in the face rn will you feel it?
Go ahead and try 👀 but FaceTime me first. I wanna see
Tavvy thought for a second. He obviously wasn’t going to punch himself, but he wanted to see if he could do something, anything, to let Ana know he was there. A hollowness sat idly in his chest since he left L.A. It was the first time they'd been apart since their parabatai ceremony, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of something being missing. It was like one of his ribs was gone, or even a lung. He just couldn’t breathe as deeply without her next to him. It scared him to think she felt it too. Or maybe she didn’t, and he was a big baby.
He pinched his arm.
Did you just pinch yourself????
OMG DID IT WORK?!
No idiot. I figured you’d try something stupid and got lucky. … But I do miss you. I feel it. Eat some Jaffa Cakes for me to fill the void.
Pretty sure that’s not how the parabatai bond works
Eat them anyway. Heading to Dallas with mom. Ttyl Tavs. try to sleep 💙
Never 💜 yeehaw
Tavvy dropped his phone next to the book and fell back onto the bed, letting his head hang off the side so he could stare up at the ceiling. There was no way he’d be getting any sleep. 
Finally, he gave up pretending he would. He flipped himself out of bed and pulled a hoodie from the duffel he didn’t bother unpacking and his stele off the dresser. He quickly drew a soundless rune on his lower forearm, snaking the stroke around the parabatai Mark on his wrist, and padded down the hallway.
He found the ballroom fast. You couldn’t really miss it with its grand oak doors that opened up to an oval room with a crystal chandelier and French windows that led to stone balconies. 
Tavvy drew another soundless rune on the door and entered quietly. His socks slid on the polished hardwood, reminding him why he never wore them to begin with. He ripped them off his feet as he settled in front of the mural on the far wall.
He studied it. Julian’s soft brush strokes and hard lines. The texture to the acrylic. The elegance in every detail. The realism of the faces and torn wallpaper. The way the jagged canes and stems wound between them were harsh but were lessened by the beautiful roses that fell around each portrait.
Tavvy scooted closer. Enough to run his hand over the paint. He could feel the passion his brother poured into the piece. It hurt.
His fingers lingered over his parents. It was odd to see them, to know their names but not know them. 
All his life he was told he looked like Julian. 
But he had his mother’s nose. His father’s eye shape. His mom’s lips. His dad’s face.
He was pieces of these people he never really met. He would never meet. 
It was like a family secret being kept from him. His siblings knew these people. They loved them. He wanted to. He couldn’t find it in him to.
“Mom would’ve thought you were so funny,” a voice echoed across the ballroom followed by silent footsteps. Julian sat down beside Tavvy and continued, “Dad was usually a tough sell, but mom … mom was always laughing.”
Tavvy didn’t know how to respond. There was something wound tight in his chest that made it impossible to speak. Instead he listened with his fingers still tracing the outline of his mom’s nose. His nose.
“She used to tell Mark knock-knock jokes all the time when he got mad,” Julian laughed. There was a pinch in his voice, but a spark in his eyes as he trailed on, eyes moving over each face with a new curiosity, “Really stupid ones, too. The worst. Mark never laughed, but sometimes he’d smile and it was like mom won the lottery. It felt like she lived to make us laugh, to smile. She was good at it. She would whisper in Helen’s ear jokes I couldn’t hear, and it made me so mad that I didn’t know what they were laughing at. She would make faces at Livvy and animal sounds with Ty and tug on Dru’s pig tails then pretend it wasn’t her. … She tickled your toes until you smiled for the first time.”
“What did she do for you?” Tavvy interrupted. His hand fell from the wall to his lap as he stared at his brother, who still stared up at his own work.
After a few moments he answered, “Everything. She poked my sides to scare me and smeared paint on my face and told silly jokes, but most importantly she taught me that I wanted to make the people I love smile and feel safe.”
“And dad?”
“He made us strong. Smart,” Julian said slowly. He ran his fingers through his hair and rolled his sweater sleeves up to his elbows as he searched for the right words. “He taught us to protect each other, to defend ourselves. To stand up for what we believed was right. Dad was tough, but he loved mom and all of us so much. That’s something they had in common. Love and family over everything.”
“So that’s where you get it. It’s hereditary.”
“I think we all got it.”
“Speak for yourself. I’d let werewolves eat you if it meant saving myself.” Tavvy leaned back on his elbows, forgetting the mural and staring at the crown molding.
“And I’d still follow you into a werewolf den.”
Tavvy rolled his eyes, “What are you doing up anyway?”
“I was just checking the nursery,” Julian turned red, “making sure everything’s in place. But then I saw the ballroom door open and figured either you were in here succumbing to jet lag or Rupert came back to drop off a baby present.”
Tavvy groaned but a smile played across his lips against his will. Julian’s face lit up like he won the lottery. 
“Do you want to paint something on one of the other walls?” Julian asked, trying to downplay the excitement rising in his voice. “Any room in the house. You can even paint over the one in your room, if you want. We’ll make it happen.”
“What if I just paint dicks all over the walls?”
Jules shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Where did you even learn that?”
“Mark,” Tavvy joked and watched his brother’s jaw drop just a touch. “Nah, it was the internet. Or Kit. I can’t remember which. They’re sort of the same thing anyway.”
“My offer changes then; any room except the nursery.”
“Jules?”
Julian was already on his feet and halfway across the ballroom before Tavvy could turn around. Emma was leaning against the doorway in her nightgown. Tavvy couldn’t remember ever seeing her look scared. And she looked worse than if she was staring down an army of mantids as she focused all her attention on Julian’s swift footsteps. Her frantic, worried eyes locked on him until he was holding her up by the elbows with an intense desperation that made Tavvy want to look away.
“I think my water broke.” He heard Emma whisper to Jules, who went a bit white before nodding his head.
“This is happening.”
Emma laughed and then gritted her teeth, “Oh yeah, this is indeed happening, Julian.” 
Julian grabbed her face and kissed her forehead gently and then her lips hard, which was the final nail in Tavvy’s coffin. He looked back at the mural, ignoring the string of questions and whispers from the couple behind him. 
“Tavs,” Julian tapped his shoulder. “I need your help.”
Tavvy stared up a bit dumbfounded, the familiar panic building in his throat. “I don’t know how to deliver a baby, Jules. Diana didn't teach us that yet!”
His brother smiled but it didn’t stop him from running his shaking hands through his curls over and over. “No, no, nothing like that,” he said and laid out the next steps meticulously. “I’m going to get Em comfortable and send a message to the Silent Brothers and Jem. Can you call Magnus? Then grab a couple towels from the linen closet and meet me at our bedroom. … Please, Octavian.”
“You know Magnus and I don’t vibe,” Tavvy started, but stopped when he saw Julian chewing on the side of his thumb. “But I guess I can put our differences aside for this.”
Julian pulled Tavvy in for a hug, crushing him against his chest fiercely. “Thank you,” he breathed and jogged his way out of sight. 
Tavvy pulled out his phone and dialed, not even letting Magnus say ‘hello’ when he accepted the call. “Hey, big guy, it's showtime.”
“Did you set up explosives in the loft?” A few glass bottles clinked and a heavy book was shut hard. “Do we need to evacuate?”
“No, Emma gushed. It’s baby time.”
“Please never say that again, Octavian. Especially not to Emma. Tell Julian I’ll be there soon.” The warlock ended the call, but not before Tavvy heard a long exhale of relief.
Satisfied with a job well done, he shoved his phone in his sweatpants pocket and turned into the hallway to find the linen closet.
Is this why Julian liked a plan? You could lose yourself in the steps? Forget about the chaos in your gut that made your stomach roll and focus on the task at hand? Maybe he could get used to this. 
He pulled down a stack of towels and closed the door with his hip. He awkwardly knocked on the doorframe of Emma and Julian’s room.
“Room service!”
Julian met him and slid the stack from his arms. He kept glancing back at the conjoined bathroom. 
“Is she okay?” Tavvy squeaked. 
“Yeah, she just insisted on curling her hair,��� Julian chuckled through a heavy sigh and the knot unraveled itself in Tavvy’s stomach. “And doing her eyeliner. Which I might have been volunteered to do for her.”
“Good,” he breathed out hard. “Magnus said he’ll be here shortly.”
“That’s good, thank you.” Another glance back. “Can you help me clean up?”
“I’m sorry but I’m not cleaning up any of Emma’s baby juices. I did not sign up for that. YOU signed up for that. Not me. This was not in the contract when I agreed to visit. No sir. Nope. No way.”
“Fine,” Julian caved. “But can you text the family group chat and let them know for me? They can come here, but it will probably be a while. … Or you can always go home, if you want, Tavs. I’m not holding you hostage or anything if you’re freaked out or don’t want to be involved. I get this is probably weird for you.”
Tavvy felt a bit guilty that he was freaked out. But he felt worse that Jules thought he wouldn’t want to be here. “What? Why would I bail!?” He smiled through the nerves. “I want to stay. I can help or just be here in case I’m useful for anything.”
Julian grabbed Tavvy’s arm and squeezed it before pulling him in for another death-grip hug that nearly shattered his shoulders. “Thank you, Tavs. I’ll find you, if we need anything.”
“Relax, bro,” Tavvy laughed into his brother’s sweatshirt. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Jules or himself. Probably both.
.
“He’s literally cheating, Dru!” Tavvy stabbed an accusatory finger at Ash, who simply raised an eyebrow up at him and smiled wickedly. 
“How do you know, Octavian?” Ash asked, batting his fair eyelashes slowly. He leaned forward, adjusting the crown of thorns and red roses woven into his white hair. It looked kind of stupid with his acid-washed black t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans. Some goth e-boy wannabe shit. Tavvy was about to tell him that when Dru tossed her cards face down on the floor.
“We are literally playing Go Fish, Tavs! How is Ash cheating?”
“I asked if he had any Queens, and he said go fish! But I know he has at least one queen!”
Ash’s smile widened. He gestured toward Dru with an elegant hand, “You’re right, I do have one Queen.” He winked. Dru smirked through a blush.
Tavvy threw his cards down, as well. “Cut the bullshit, Oak. You picked up a Queen your last turn. I saw it!”
“So you’re the one cheating,” Dru stated, folding her arms over her chest. 
“No! He lifted the card really high when he picked it up, and I can’t just not see things! I have eyes!”
“Cheater.”
“We are not terrorizing Tavvy!” Helen yelled over the quiet whispers of the room. The Blackthorns had converged onto Chiswick and staked claim to Blackthorn Hall’s ballroom. Helen and Aline rested in velvet chairs by the door along with Cristina and Tessa against the wall. Mark perched on a windowsill, watching the gardens outside as Ty excitedly pointed out the different plants and animals from the view.
Kieran came in last, but was quickly overtaken by a squealing Ellie, who grabbed his King’s robes and refused to let go until he picked her up. She was asleep in his arms now. A fist stuck in his deep blue hair and the other stretched out, almost reaching for Kit beside them. Mina half-hid behind Kit’s back, examining the room and all the people closely and carefully with watchful eyes while asking where her dad was when a stop in conversation allowed her.
It’s been hours. So many Tavvy lost count — including the two he passed with a nap that he claimed he didn’t need or want.
When Julian said a while, Tavvy thought three or four hours tops. How hard was it to push that thing out of there? Couldn’t Magnus and Jem just magic it out? 
They had already played several rounds of Uno, a sad attempt at Monopoly that ended in Kit accidentally tipping the board, multiple games of Super Smash Bros until getting destroyed by Ty every time got old, and now Go Fish, which was ruined by Ash being a stupid cheater. 
“Somebody tell Emma to hurry things up. I’m bored and hungry.”
“Do you volunteer?” Dru asked with a laugh. 
Tavvy picked up the deck of cards. “New game, 52-card pick up.” He fanned them out with his thumb and let them fall into Dru’s lap.
“What the fuck, Octavian?!”
“DRU!” It was Aline this time. Her eyes gave as much of a warning as her voice. “There’s little kids here.”
Tavvy smirked at Dru. He felt a little guilty though when Mina whispered something in Kit’s ear that made his face turn firetruck red. “I know, Min Min. Dru likes bad words; it’s not very nice.”
Dru harrumphed. “Don’t act all innocent over there. Somebody taught me those words.”
“Yeah, Emma did,” Ty appeared beside Kit and leaned down to fix the bow in Mina’s hair. She abandoned her brother and attached herself to Ty as the rest of the room laughed and broke out into separate conversations. 
There was a buzz in the air. A nervous energy. But it wasn’t bad or uncomfortable. It was exciting. Warm. Cozy almost. Like Christmas morning.
“Blackthorns and Blackthorn adjacents,” a voice boomed. The room quieted as all eyes turned to Magnus in the doorway. “Your ranks have been strengthened by one stubbornly fierce little lady.” He waved his hand and the ballroom filled with little pink bubbles. “It’s a girl.”
.
“Why did they ask for me first? Shouldn’t Helen go?” Tavvy asked as he and Magnus walked down the hall to where Emma and Julian were waiting. He was in the middle of devouring several wontons at once when Magnus snuck up saying Jules had wanted to see him.
“Don’t ask me,” Magnus sighed. “I stopped wondering how you Blackthorns think centuries ago.”
“Am I your least favorite Blackthorn?” He wondered out loud. That made Magnus chuckle. 
“Far from it, Octavian.”
“So where am I ranked on your tier list?”
“I’ve survived this long by not picking favorites among you Shadowhunters.”
“But you married Alec. That’s sort of like picking a favorite.”
“You just dropped a rank.”
“Fuck me.”
“Another one for language,” Magnus mused. “I’d quit while you’re ahead. You’re getting into awfully dangerous territory.”
They stopped outside the room Julian had converted into a make-shift infirmary years ago. “I didn’t need you to walk me here,” Tavvy said, not entering the room. 
“No, but you needed somebody to talk to on the way,” Magnus smiled, laying a hand on Tavvy’s back and pushing him toward the door gently. “And to make sure you actually opened the door.”
Tavvy’s hand lingered on the knob. He took the deepest breath in and exhaled like a dragon through his nose before opening it quietly. When he turned around, Magnus was gone. 
“Hey.” Tavvy’s voice was tiny as he stepped into the room. It wasn’t all white and sterile like the Institute’s infirmary. Afternoon sun warmed the room with trickles of golden light that danced across the yellow-painted walls and made the little ivory daisies on the trim dance. It felt more like the kitchen back home — bright and cozy.
Julian sat on the edge of a large bed in the center of the room. His worn flannel was unbuttoned and a bundle of white blankets rested against his bare chest. He and Emma both looked up when Tavvy entered. Julian smiled wide, making the dark rings under his eyes disappear for the moment.
Emma just looked tired. Like really tired. But she smiled at him too, which made him want to tell her not to put in the effort.
“So, uh, I heard there’s a baby in here,” Tavvy said awkwardly. His sneaker scuffed against the floor.
Emma snorted, “Wrong room.”
That softened him up. He took another step. Then another. And another. Until he was just a few more away from the bed. Even though he still felt uncomfortable, like he shouldn’t be interrupting. 
“Do you want to hold her?” Julian asked. His voice was hushed. Its usual edge melted away to something soft and warm. 
Tavvy thought about it for a moment. He refused to hold Ellie for months. Too scared to drop her and unwilling to accept this small thing had taken his place as the baby of the Blackthorns. A role he didn’t necessarily want but also didn’t want to give up.
He was equally terrified this time around, but there was some tiny voice in his head that screamed at him not to make the same mistake. It sounded a bit like Ana. 
Ellie had gotten so big so quickly. She just keeps getting bigger every day. Yet he didn’t really know just how small she used to be.
“If you’ll let me,” Tavvy murmured. That made Julian smile wider, and he and Emma shared a soft look that Tavvy couldn’t quite comprehend. 
“Wash your hands first and sit down,” Jules nodded toward a little sink along the far counter and then a rocking chair in the corner. Tavvy followed the orders, swallowing hard when he finally sat down and watched his brother leave the bed to carry the bundle across the floor. It seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. Not it, she. She fit perfectly. 
“Make sure you support her head,” Julian settled his daughter into Tavvy’s open arms and slid his little brother’s hand into the right position. 
She was so small but also so long. So light but so heavy. Her eyes were closed, puffy cheeks and a pushed-in nose both red and blotchy, a mitten-covered fist nearly shoved in her tiny opened mouth and just a few blonde curls on her head. 
For a moment, he remembered the way Julian had held him. Even when he was far too old to be held. The memories were just hazy static images now. Julian’s head tilted back against the studio’s wall and fingers wrapped in t-shirts and tears that fell into paint as Tavvy cried. But those arms were always tight around him. Always holding on until the wave of sadness had passed and sometimes long after. How heavy had he felt to his older brother back then? 
He could feel Emma and Julian watching him closely with curious eyes. Jules’ hands were still a bit outstretched, waiting. Tavvy tried to breathe.
“She kind of looks like an alien,” he said finally, but he couldn’t look away. “A cute alien. But definitely an alien.”
“I’m offended,” Emma laughed. “But fair. All babies kind of look like aliens. You definitely looked like an alien.”
“Also a cute alien,” Julian added.
“Does this alien have a name, or are we calling her Baby BC forever?”
“Cordelia,” Jules looked back again, this time with one of his rare dopey grins. “For Emma’s mom.”
“You didn’t want to continue the tradition and name her Theodora or some shit? Perhaps Octavia?”
“Our daughter is literally hours old and you already swore in front of her,” Julian said, raising an eyebrow, but there was still a tenderness to the scolding that probably had to do with the soft happy haze that filled the room.
“I’m sorry, Coco,” Tavvy booped his new niece’s nose gently, which made her blink and scrunch her face up all cute. He was afraid she’d cry, but she just stared up at him, blue-green eyes on blue-green eyes, both full of wonder. 
Blackthorn genes were indeed strong as hell. Though apparently babies do magic tricks and change their eye color. They’d have to put up a fight against the Carstairs. 
Julian kneeled down beside the chair. He reached out a hand to run his thumb slowly and carefully across Cordelia’s cheek. She yawned and leaned her face into the touch. He seemed mesmerized by it, not taking his eyes off her as he said with a breathy laugh, “Though dad’s tradition will carry on. Her middle name is Helen. Cordelia Helen.” 
“Cordelia Helen,” Tavvy repeated. It felt like bees were let loose in his stomach, but the stings didn’t hurt. They made him feel tingly and warm. “Helen’s gonna freak. Freak like in a good way. The best way. … Also we can call her Coco Helen. Like Coco Melon. Ellie will love it.”
“Take our daughter away from him,” Emma scowled playfully. “Swearing I can handle, but bad puns? Unforgivable.”
“You’re one to talk,” Julian countered, and Em stuck her tongue out. 
“Hey, Jules?” Tavvy asked when the banter fell away into comfortable silence. His brother looked up, and he continued before he lost the nerve, “Why me? Why ask for me first and not Helen? Or Mark? Or literally anyone else? Why … Why me?”
Julian moved his hand from Cordelia’s face to brush the sweep of curls out of Tavvy’s eyes with the same careful touch. He was clearly thinking. Maybe trying to remember why himself. Maybe he made a mistake. Maybe Jules did ask for Helen, and Magnus played some sick joke on him.
“You’re the first person we thought of, Octavian.”
.
I'm cleaning out my Google Drive and have decided to start posting all the fics lingering in the docs graveyard. This one seemed like the most complete to start with.
32 notes · View notes
lesbocrocker · 1 year
Text
23 notes · View notes
Text
i am so pissed that diana wrayburn was forced to be a backround character and the whole point of her being there was to show how the clave was not kind to trans people.
diana is cc’s only trans character. not only that, but she is a black trans woman. and she was forced to be not much more than a background character.
we could have watched diana and gwynn figure out their relationship. we could have seen emma giving diana relationship advice. the catrina and diana friendship. diana watching movies with dru. diana taking tavvy to play at the park. diana who wished she could have helped julian feel less alone. diana taking care of the blackthorns. dru accidentally calling her ‘mom’. diana fighting the clave on the blackthorn’s behalf.
instead, diana was used in a few scenes to prove that there was trans representation and to show how hard it is for trans people.
we know how hard it is to be trans, but we are so much more than those who hate us
113 notes · View notes
cortanas-wielder · 2 years
Text
Some amazing newsletter art!!
Tumblr media
84 notes · View notes
Text
Kraig’s Reitrement Party - BONUS Episode 4
They say all roads lead to Rome, but it turns out all roads actually lead to Julian — specifically the Julian Pain Grave™ 🪦
Ais (@allineedisabook-18) officially joins the party, teaming up with Bry and Jules to deliver their top sobbing moments for each of the present-day Blackthorn siblings.
This episode is truly all tears as we dive deep into the physical manifestation of their collective Dark War trauma, the lengths they're willing to go for love and family, the roles they've taken and lost as they've shifted, and crying. Just crying. Over everything.
Bring a bottle of water for this one! You'll need to rehydrate 🥲
We had so much fun crying with Ais over the Blackthorn sibs! Let us know what your top Blackthorn SoBHing moments from across TSC are (just in case we have any tears left) or if you have any thoughts, theories or corrections based on ours! If there’s any topics you’d like us to cover or an idea you have for a future bonus episode, send it our way too🥳 this party is getting bigger and wilder
Note: This episode was recorded on Aug. 20. Which means we did not experience the Livvy letter at this point 😭
16 notes · View notes
4uru · 1 month
Text
I am officially a TDA swap AU convert. And these are my appearance hcs
"The Unchosen Mirrors"
Helen Penhallow Blackthorn & Mark Anthony Blackthorn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"The Prodigal Son"
Julian Atticus Blackthorn
Tumblr media
"The Fair Maiden" and "The Reaper"
Olivia Blackthorn & Tiberius Nero Balackthorn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"The Witch" and "The Bird"
Drusilla Balackthorn & Octavian Blackthorn
Tumblr media Tumblr media
@chaosandtwo @thevagabondexpress
36 notes · View notes
achaiapelides · 1 year
Text
Next Generation of Shadowhunters (my idea)
Theresa Gray Herondale (*1861) + James Carstairs (*1861)
= Christopher Jonathan Herondale (*1997, adopted in 2012)
= Wilhelmina Yiqiang Carstairs (*2012)
= Sophie Carstairs (*2016)
= Charlotte Carstairs (*2019)
Alexander Gideon (*1989) + Magnus Lightwood-Bane (*???)
= Rafael Santiago Lightwood-Bane (*2007, adopted in 2012)
= Max Michael Lightwood-Bane (*2009, adopted in 2009)
Isabelle Sophia Lightwood (*1990) + Simon Lovelace (*1990)
= George Lovelace (*2017)
= Leia Lightwood (*2018)
= Bobby Lightwood (*2019)
Clarissa Adele Fairchild (*1991) + Jace Herondale (*1990)
= Celine Amatis Herondale (*2018)
= Stephen Lucian Herondale (*2020)
Aline Penhallow (*1990) + Helen Blackthorn (*1990)
= Nerissa Penhallow-Blackthorn* (*2013, adopted in 2015)
Cristina Rosales (*1994) + Mark Blackthorn (*1992) + Kieran of Unseelie (*1994)
= Rosalia Blackthorn (*2017)
= Aaron Rosales (*2017)
Emma Cordelia Carstairs (*1995) + Julian Atticus Blackthorn (*1995)
= Elanor Carstairs (*2020)
= Cordelia Carstairs (*2022)
Livia Blackthorn (1997-2012)
Christopher Jonathan Herondale (*1997) + Tiberius Nero Blackthorn (*1997)
= Livia Rose Blackthorn* (*2018, adopted in 2018)
Drusilla Blackthorn (*1999) + Ash Morgenstern (*1999/2008)
= Magnolia Morgenstern (*2017)
= Andrew Morgenstern (*2019)
= Stephanie Morgenstern (*2019)
Octavian Blackthorn (*2005)
Happy December 11th, everyone!
26 notes · View notes