00:00 | Septiplier

Everyone is born with a tattoo that shows the time you first meet your soulmate. Sometimes it can be difficult. Other times, it might just work out. | Septiplier AU. Set in the same universe as "In the Minute Before Midnight".


1. At The Stroke of Midnight | Mark

A/N: Original title, I know.

So, I wrote most of this on my phone while I was getting my hair done XD I did a speedy edit, so I may have missed a few typos here and there :P

YES I WRITE THIS STUFF. And this was the first real romance-y thing that I've ever written, so please excuse me if it sucks XD And yes, I need to make a better cover XD

Well, thanks for reading :D




Mark excused himself from the party, eyeing the balcony - he needed some time to himself. He exited the ballroom, gratefully breathed in the cool summer breeze, running a hand through his thick, raven hair. He leant on the balcony railing, relishing in the few minutes away from the party that he would get before someone came and collected him.
The life of a prince was hard sometimes.

Especially when your timer said 00:00 - midnight. Everyone wanted their daughter to be the special lady that met Mark at midnight, and become his soulmate. They all hid the fact that the tattoos on their wrists didn't say midnight, and either wore clothing or jewellery over it, or covered it up with powder.

"Needed some time out too, my lord?" a cool voice said from beside him. Mark looked sideways, startled, to see a man sitting on the corner of the railing, his feet dangling over the edge. His face was tilted sideways towards the prince, and Mark could just make out some baby-blue eyes. Other than that, he was covered in shadows.

Then a bell tolled, and the blue-eyed man looked up at the sky, and Mark could make out a smile on his face.

The bell tolled twelve times.


"And, you are?" Mark found himself asking.

The man chuckled, swinging his legs over the railing so that his feet were on the inside of the balcony. "Of course," he said. "I apologise." He dropped off the railing and approached Mark, stopping a few paces in front of him. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed. "My name is Sean McLoughlin, your majesty. I am here with my elder sister, who came to celebrate your sixteenth birthday."

Of course, Mark recognised the name. The McLoughlins were quite a rich family from the next village over, and they had quite a lot of land to call their own. He faintly recalled that they had five children, two daughters and three sons, the youngest of whom was a year younger than himself, and the youngest daughter was here at the party with their parents. They were hoping that Mark would accept her hand in marriage.

Her, and every other girl Mark had ever met.

The life of a prince was hard sometimes.

Mark nodded. "Please, you don't have to bow to me. Stand up."

Sean stood with a smile, and Mark studied the man. His skin was milky-white, unlike Mark's brown-toned skin. Sean's blue eyes and light brown hair also contrasted to his own dark hair and eyes, making them polar opposites in appearance. His accent had a foreign sound to it as well, and was much higher in pitch.

Was there anything about the two that was similar?

"It's midnight," Sean said suddenly, pulling Mark out of his thoughts. "I thought you would be at the party - I hate to say it, but the fact that your timer says midnight is common knowledge by now."

Mark looked away, out at the garden. "I know. I'm sick of it, which is why I came out here. I lost track of time anyway."
"I see. My sister will be disappointed."

"Please tell her that I apologise."

"I shall." Sean smiled, and went back over to the railing and hoisted himself up onto it. "I can understand why you're tired of it, though. Midnight is a special time."

"I suppose," Mark said absently, leaning on the railing next to him. He was preoccupied in worrying that Sean would fall.

As if reading his thoughts, Sean grinned and said, "I'm not going to fall, y'know. I've been climbing trees for as long as I can remember, so I've got good balance. I'll be fine."

Mark nodded and looked out at the garden again. Suddenly, a thought struck him and he looked sideways at the boy on the rail. "Why are you out here, then?" he asked.

Sean sighed. "I hate parties," he said after a moment of silence. "I truly, honestly, hate parties. I mean, I like talking to people and I get along with people easy enough, but I hate parties. It's hard to explain." He bit his lip, as if unsure why he told Mark this much. He swung his legs over the railing again, so that he was facing out.

"No, I get it," Mark replied. And he did. "Honestly, I've been around parties and balls my whole life, so I'm used to them, and I don't mind them. But tonight, it's as if everyone was avoiding me until midnight. So I left."

"Too late now," Sean joked.

"Thank god," Mark returned, grinning himself.

They remained in a comfortable silence for a few moments as they enjoyed the breeze.

"Y'know," Sean broke the silence. "About the party thing..." he trailed off, biting his lip again.

Mark tilted his head to the side a little, and turned sideways so that he was facing the boy. "What about it?"

Sean hesitated, before looking down at Mark. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but you're the first person I've told that. Nobody else seemed to care."

Mark hoisted himself up onto the railing, so that he was at eye level with him. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.
Sean sighed. "My parents are always busy," he said. "I've got four older siblings, we got a shit ton o' land to look after, and they never really had much time for me anyway. I was always forced to go to parties. My timer's late at night, too," he admitted. "Which is probably why I hate them so much. My four older siblings are so perfect, they do everything they're asked to do, and then there's me." He sighed again, and looked down. "And I still don't know why I'm telling you all this."

Mark smiled. There were butterflies dancing in his stomach. He couldn't quite place it, but his heart warmed towards this boy. "It's okay," he said. "I'll always listen."

Sean smiled almost sadly. "Thank you."

Mark's heart squeezed at the sight of Sean's smile, and he wanted to cheer him up somehow. "Hey," he said softly, and Sean looked up at him inquiringly. "Seeing as you hate parties so much, want me to show you something?"

Sean grinned again. "Sure."

So Mark hopped off the railing and walked over to the side of the railing, climbing over it.

"Where are you going?" Sean asked hesitantly.

Mark grinned. "Who was the one not worried about falling?" And then he dropped.

But he safely dropped onto a stone that he knew was underneath him, and looked up to sew Sean looking over the rail, worry clear on his face. He grinned.

Sean shook his head when he Aw that Mark was safe, a smile tugging at his lips. "Bastard," Mark heard him murmur. "What's down there?"

Mark held up his hand. "Do you trust me?" he asked. Sean smiled then, and nodded. He climbed over the railing himself, and took Mark's hand as he dropped.

Mark grinned. "Good," he said, and tugged at the boy's hand. "Come on," he said, and Sean followed as Mark took off at a run.

They ran through the garden, Mark's favourite place - it had been since he was a child and he had to get away from everyone. At this time of night, it was beautiful.

Soon enough, Mark slowed to a walk as they reached the centre of the garden, a bench under a Willow tree. Sean, who still held onto Mark's hand, looked around in wonder. "There ain't anything like this back home," he admitted.
Mark smiled. As they peacefully continued their walk to the Willow tree, he felt Sean's fingers interlock with his - their hands seemed to fit together so perfectly, and Mark's face began heating up when he realised this. A thought struck him.

"Mark," he said, and Sean looked over at him. "Mark Fischbach. I figured I should probably introduce myself properly."

Sean smiled. "Sean McLoughlin," he replied. "But I prefer Jack."

"It's nice to meet you, Jack."

"Same to you, Mark."

Jack said Mark's name slightly differently to most others. He liked it.

They reached the willow tree and they stopped. Mark looked up at the tree branches dancing in the breeze, and Jack looked all around them, eyes filled with wonder. Mark found himself entranced by the sparkle in his eyes, by the way he seemed so innocent.

Jack noticed him staring, and turned so they were facing each other. Mark noticed that even though Jack was younger than him, they were the same height. Mark felt like he could go swimming in Jack's eyes, as blue as the ocean.

"Can I tell you something else?" Jack asked quietly, hesitantly.

Mark nodded slightly. "Of course."

Jack smiled, and stepped in, so they were mere centimetres apart. "My tattoo says midnight, too," Jack whispered, and bridged the gap between them, gently pressing his lips to Mark's own.

It was just a slight touch, but Mark felt fireworks going off in his heart and stomach, and he had never felt happier.
Jack pulled away after a few seconds and looked at Mark, his eyes filled with worry and doubt. Mark nodded to show that it was okay, and pressed their lips together again. Jack's hand came up to cup his cheek, returning the kiss, full of love, and never letting go of their entwined hands. Mark's free hand came to rest on the other's waist, pulling him as close as possible and gripping into the younger man's shirt.

As the kiss slowly became more heated, Jack's fingers began to run through Mark's hair. Their lips moved in sync, and fitted together like it was meant to be.

Mark smiled against the kiss and they pulled gently apart, slightly breathless.

"Midnight is a special time," Jack repeated his earlier statement, touching their foreheads together. Mark hummed his agreement, and held up his tattooed wrist for Jack to see, pulling his hand out of Jack's grip. Jack took his wrist in his own gentle hands, and ran his fingers over the jet black ink. He then tugged up his own sleeve and showed Mark his tattoo. It was identical, in time, colour and cursive.

They both smiled, and Mark took this opportunity to caress Jack's cheek. "I guess we're both romantics, then," he murmured.

"I guess so," Jack agreed, and then grinned that cheeky grin of his. "My sister will be disappointed."

Mark grinned to match Jack, and his hand dropped to go around the other's waist. Jack responded by wrapping his arms around the holder's neck. They were so close that Mark could feel the best radiating off of Jack.

"Well," he said. "I'm not sorry anymore."

Jack chuckled and pulled Mark in for another kiss.

They stayed like that for a while, with the willow still slow dancing happily above them, leaves falling around them and littering the grass.

For that little while, everything was perfect, and nothing could ruin that moment.

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