Shadowhunter Chronicles Imagines/ One-Shots | REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

mark blackthorn : save a little face

"Downworlders can't be trusted."

"The Clave is stupid if they believe that the Accords will stop Downworlders from betraying them."

"They've proven they can't be trusted, the Seelie Queen proved that, Faeries are the worst of them all."

That was the bullshit that (Y/N) had been listening to for the past couple of weeks. Every night at dinner, every morning at breakfast - thank the Angel that the Centurions were our during lunch time.

Currently (Y/N) was sitting that the dining table, full of Centurions and the Blackthorn kids, with her hand clenched tightly around her fork. Her whole body was stiff as she listened to the racist prayers of the guests.

Besides her was Mark, the eldest Blackthorn and the half-faerie half-Shadowhunter, her boyfriend. His hand was settled on her knee under the table, his hand shaking as his are with his dominant hand. Mark hated the Centurions being here, he hated having to hear them talk about him and his people that way, but mostly he hated not being able to talk back to them.

She knew he hated them, she could see the fear and hatred in his eyes as he listened carefully to their treacherous plans for putting all Downworlders on a registry.

Zara Dearborn was the worst, some of them were at least shy about their racist agenda, where as she was very vocal about it. It seemed that every time she would speak of the Faerie Folk she would glare straight at Mark. It made (Y/N)'s anger burn bright with every second.

"The Cold Peace is useless, the Faeries have proven that they can't stand by anything." Zara spewed, her high pitched voice ringing through the room. "Just because they can't lie doesn't mean they are honest." She continued hatefully, her eyes locked with Marks across the table.

(Y/N) glanced at her boyfriend, feeling his body still next to her as Zara stared at him. If looks could kill she was sure that Mark would be dead, but what had Mark ever done to her? Mark averted his eyes, anxiously looking down at where his hand rested on (Y/N)'s knee. He calmed momentarily, but soon clammed back up when he came back to reality.

"Not in the mood to defend yourself Faerie?" Zara hissed at him, calmly eating her food from the opposite side of the table.

Mark looked like he was going to be sick, like someone have driven a sword right through his torso. However he didn't dare to speak up, not wanting to infuriate Zara any further.

(Y/N) however did not care as much, she hated seeing the pain reflect in Marks eyes. So much so that she opened her mouth, "How dare you." She hissed. This drew the attention of everyone in the room, including those who had been staring down at their food and pretending they didn't hear Zara.

Zara looked appalled, as if she couldn't believe that someone was speaking to her, "Excuse you?" She asked, trying to give (Y/N) a chance to back down.

"Actually, excuse you." (Y/N) said, setting her fork down and lacing her fingers with Marks for strength. "How dare you come into this home and speak like you do. I can not believe that you have the audacity to address Mark, you are in his home and you are to remember that." She said carefully, keeping her composure despite wanting nothing more than to smack the smug look right off of Zara's face.

Everyone was shocked, usually  (Y/N) kept her mouth shut and bit her tongue but it seemed that Zara had finally crossed the line. Mark stared at the girl next to him, he knew that the way Zara spoke enraged her but he never dreamed that she would do this. Truth be told he had never been more proud to call her his girlfriend.

"I think it would suit you well to remember that we are here to clean up your mess." Zara said, clenching her hands so tight that her knuckles were white.

(Y/N) scuffed, rolling her eyes. "You know, My mother came from a softer generation, one where you get a grip and bite your lip just to save a little face." She answered sweetly, keeping her composure before her smile dropped. "But unfortunately I do not believe that is the correct way to deal with racists." (Y/N) hissed, drooping Marks hand and shoving her chair away from the table. She threw her napkin down on the table as she realized that there was nothing else to say to Zara, there was no talking sense into her.

Mark watched her storm from the room, as she exited he quickly followed her. He didn't care that every Centurion in the room was staring at him, or probably hated him more than before, all he cared about was making sure (Y/N) knew how much that meant to him.

(Y/N) slammed the door to her room shut behind her, not realizing that Mark had been trailing behind her. He reopened the door carefully, watching her whirl around to look at her, then closed the door softly behind him. She smiled at him softly, not sure if he was upset with her or not. Surely he would be, Mark didn't need her to defend him, if he wanted to say something to Zara and the Centurions he would have.

"Are you alright?" Mark asked, moving to her nightstand to grab the glass of water she had sitting. He handed it to her swiftly.

(Y/N) sighed, "You aren't mad?" She asked, scrunching her face.

Mark shook his head, how could she think he was upset with her after that? "I could not be angry with you after such a display." It was Faerie wording, something that (Y/N) had only recently come to understand. She loved the way Mark spoke, it was elegant.

She downed the contents of the glass he had handed her, then set it back down on her nightstand. (Y/N) ran her hands across her face in distress, her hands still shaking with either anger, anxiety or both.

"I couldn't let her sit there and speak to you like that." (Y/N) said with her mouth tight, lips soon pressed into a fine line. Her hands clenched tight, open and close, open and close. "I've been holding it all in for weeks and I just couldn't-"

Mark leaped to her, his hands losing themselves on her waist. His lips pushed against hers, she gasped into his mouth before clasping her hands to the nap of his neck. Mark shivered as her fingers brushed against the hair on the back of his neck. His fingers dug into her hips, him trying to pull her closer to him. Both of them stumbled, (Y/N) letting Mark dominate her, and onto her bed they fell. Their lips pulled apart, letting out gasps of surprise.

(Y/N) laughed, fingers lost in Marks blonde locks and his face buried in her neck. His chest shook against hers, his weight pushing down on her. (Y/N) could feel his heartbeat against hers, she then decided she always wanted to be this close to him. That no matter what anyone said or did that could tear him from her.

~~~~~~~
A/N
Word Count: 1234

I've really been in a Mark mood, by the Angel I love him so much