Shadowhunter Chronicles Imagines/ One-Shots | REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

julian blackthorn : centurion

Julian hated them, the Centurions. The Clave had sent them to help the Blackthorns clean up their 'mess' from dealing with Malcom Fade. The Centurions had just come in and started acting like they owned the place, demanded that the Blackthorns cooked and cleaned for them. They acted as if they suddenly ran the Los Angeles Institute.

He hated how they told his siblings what to do, treated them as if the kids were beneath them. What made it worse was that there was nothing Julian could do about it, he could talk back to them or tell them off and risk they discovering his uncles illness.

Julian also hated how they treated Emma. Emma, his best friend, seemed to be the most frequent target of the Centurion rage. Across the world she was known as 'the next Jace Herondale' or 'the best Shadowhunter of her age' so the Centurions watched her like a hawk, making sure that their spot at the Scholomance wasn't in danger.

(Y/N) stood in the kitchen, fiddling with the knobs on the sink. She furrowed her brow and swore under breath, gasping slightly as the faucet turned up so high that it sprayed her in the face. It had been a long time since (Y/N) had some dishes- chores in general if she was being honest- but she figured that she should do something to help the Blackthorns out.

She had come from the Sholomance with the other Centurions, arriving to aid the Blackthorn family in finding the body of Malcolm Fade and the Black Book. Although she knew that those she worked with had good intentions she also knew that they often had a chip on their shoulder. Working with Centurions was hard, especially ones like Zara and Jon.

Julian entered the kitchen, shocked to see the back of someone he didn't recognize with their hands in the sink watching dishes. It was an odd occurrence for anyone apart for himself to do dishes, but it was even stranger that someone he didn't know was doing dishes.

He blinked, scanning his eyes down the body of the girl. Her back was straight, and her top was covered with a tight black long sleeve- on the corner of a chair was her Centurion jacket- with a small hole built into the design just below her neck. Her pants were classic Centurion wear, black leather gear pants that had different slashes and designed across them.

(Y/N) must have heard him because she turned around, staring at him for a second before her face flushed red. "I hope you don't mind." She said, her voice lighter than any other Centurion he had met. Usually they were sharp tongued, with little if any sympathy.

Julian blinked, "Sorry." He said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, "What did you say?" Julia asked her, still stunned by her gentle demeanor.

"I said, I hope you don't mind-" (Y/N) said with a soft chuckle, turning away from him so she was facing the dishes once again. "My doing the dishes that is." She told him, continuing to clean.

Julian was still shocked. Never would he have guessed that a Centurion would be asking him if it was alright if she could clean. She didn't seem like one of them, she seemed to nice and to gentle to be one of them. Of course he was sure that she could strike like a viper when she needed to.

"Not at all." Julian said, still trying to find his words. He found himself putting his hands into the front pockets of his pain smeared jeans.

The only sound between them was running water and a sponge clashing with the mess on plates from breakfast just an hour before. Washing all of these plates by hand sucked, along with the silverware, cups and pants that food had been cooked in. Dishes lined the counter, each side of her and most of them were not clean.

Julian cleared his throat, drawing her attention for a second, "Thank you actually." He said politely, making his way next to her so he could pick up an extra sponge and assist her. "I can do these though." Julian said, not wanting to get rid of her but perhaps relieve her.