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Literature
Pleasant Surprises
“Markimoo?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s this?”
Hearing his long term boyfriend calling him from his bedroom, Mark could only hope that this wasn’t yet another prank. The pair had been at war recently, with the last prank having Jack screeching as blood red water poured out of the shower nozzle.
Mark had wanted to pull a full on Carrie, but he didn’t have enough fake blood to fill a bucket, so he settled for the red dye in the shower head instead.
Smiling to himself at the thought, Mark cautiously made his way over to their bedroom, where Jack had called from. With a suspicious look on his face, he crept into the room and held his hands out in front of him in case the Irishman threw something at him.
What he didn’t expect, was for Jack to be holding a ring box. The exact one that held the engagement ring he was planning to give to Jack on his birthday.
That was in two weeks.
He’d managed to waste an entire day just picking it out, no
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Literature
I Waited For You All My Life - Dark + Jack
He’s exhausted.
As he drags himself through the streets, thoughts flurry through his head without a care in the world. His cold, calm and collected stance and one track mind falter and he stumbles repeatedly.
He’s late. By this point, he’s late by a couple years but it’s the right time of day. The right hour, the right minute, the right second and he can only hope that maybe a fracture of his promise isn’t broken. With dark skies above him, threatening to rain any minute, he trundles on towards the house he’s tried so hard to stay away from.
He hopes for just a splinter, a tiny bit of hope that when he knocks on that door he won’t be shouted out or turned away. Of course, he knows he deserves it but he heavily doubts that he has the energy for such disappointment.
So he hopes.
With a feeble fist, he knocks on the door that he knew well a long time ago. The number is still wonky and the letter box still rusts on the bottom, but the person
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Literature
Rules Are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with you) 4
“...Jack…?” Someone called, although their voice was distant, like it was in another realm altogether. He shrugged it off, opting to stay in his floaty state. Where everything was okay, where everything was perfect.
“JACK! For fuck’s sake...” The same voice shouted, ripping him from his sweet dreamland as his covers were stripped from him and a cold draft hit him like a brick.
“Nooo...  m’tired…” He whined, vaguely aware of how scratchy his voice was. He groped around the bed, searching desperately for his lost warmth.
“Jack, we have to get to Umbridge’s office. She’s gonna flip if we don’t,” The voice was quiet, deep.
That woke him up.
“Aw crap!” he yelled, springing up in the bed in an instant.
Suddenly, the room seemed to flood with silence. Jack had sat bolt upright, not realising that Mark had been hovering just above him, probably about to drag him out of bed manually
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 21 9
Literature
Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with You) 3
Chapter 2
This was it. He was going to do it. No more waiting.
It was perfect, really. They were in class with Umbridge, so he couldn’t exactly freak out or run away. Jack bit his lip sheepishly; it was actually sort of a dick move. Mark would be forced to sit next to him for the rest of the period, regardless of how he reacted.
But what other option was there? At least it meant he had a chance to explain himself fully.
Jack let out a quiet sigh, fiddling with the seam of his robes. It was now or never.
He squeezed his eyes shut tight and breathed in. He could do this. It was only Mark.
“Hey Mark uh, listen,” Jack whispered, silently begging that Umbridge wouldn’t hear him. Generally, Jack didn’t abide by Umbridge’s rules but honestly, today was the one day he didn’t want to piss her off.
Too late.
“Mr McLoughlin! What do you think you’re doing talking in my class again?!”
“Nothing Professor, sorry,”
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 26 9
Literature
Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm With You) 2
Chapter One
He never dreamed it would be like this.
Falling for someone was something Jack had always thought would feel obvious, like a fire burning through his heart with every glimpse. Perhaps a choir of angels would come down and sing him a song, or something.
Definitely not a stabbing pain of oh shit, that would knock the wind right out of him as Mark rambled nervously about something or other.
“Jack? You’re spacing out on me, man,” Mark laughed, slugging him in the shoulder.
“Hm? Oh, sorry, Mark,” Jack rubbed his arm where he’d been hit, motioning for Mark to continue.
“Well, as I was saying, maybe you could clear out of the dorm for a few hours tonight…?” Mark coughed jokingly, as if this wasn’t a normal conversation the two of them had almost weekly.
Oh.
There it was again. That feeling.
“I thought we were going to Hogsmeade tonight? I asked you like, what, last week?” Jack said,
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 24 9
Literature
Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with You)
Prologue
It was too loud.
Trains rushed past, one after the other, each louder than the next. Each bursting wind was going straight to his increasing headache. It sounded too much like home. People were bustling around every corner, the morning rush hour causing everyone to push past each other aimlessly. His father was escorting him through the waves of bodies.
Jack clung to his father’s shirt, desperately trying not to get whisked away. Another train passed, and he closed his eyes.
All Jack knew was that he had to get to platform 9 ¾ and keep hold of his almost golden ticket, his only way out of the constant rumbling household he was forced to call home. His father’s iron grip on his right shoulder reminded him of what he could return home to, and the thought of hearing his parents arguing caused him to scrunch his eyes shut as he was guided through the crowds.
Clutching his ticket, he remembered the fear of his father asking him to come to the living room as
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JELIX by writeasoph JELIX :iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 20 6 Septiplier wallpaper by writeasoph Septiplier wallpaper :iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 30 6
Literature
Is your heart really that cold? - Danti
"Stop, right there," 
With a smug grin plastered onto his face, the man stopped in his tracks before turning around before jokingly putting his hands on his hips.
"Oh hello Dark! Wasn't expecting you around so soon! How have you been? Healing well?" the man poked, irritating Dark even further with a subconscious rub at his side. Hearing Anti hiss quietly behind him, he turned back to the bold man.
"Healing wonderfully thank you. Now, if you don't mind I'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to steal from me," Dark said, his eyes boring into the man. The trio were stood in a dilapidated warehouse where Dark found solace in storing some of his more valuable possessions, including the one that had caused him and Anti to become the whatever they were now. The one that was in the man's hands right now.
"Oh really?" the man replied, acting disappointed. "Well that's a shame, since I feel no need to. And who's the new boy? Green hair doesn't really seem your type, Darkie," the man mocked
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 31 2
Literature
Say You Love Me - Septiplier
I’m going to miss you.
It’s a thought that hits Mark hard, the thought that Jack could easily vanish in a few weeks. The transition from high school to college was going to be strange and they both knew it, especially with the fact that the “maybe more than friends” were planning on going to different places. More often than not, Jack seemed to have a habit of becoming unreachable when out of school, excuses covering his behaviour whenever questioned. Mark couldn’t help but worry that as soon as this term ended, the boy would simply disappear forever.
So, as they’re waiting in a cool corridor hiding from the intense summer heat as they wait for their exams, he finds himself staring at Jack leaning against the wall, as if trying to memorise the boy stood in front of him that’s always confused his heart a little. Their relationship had never been simple, with miscommunication and family problems getting in the way (not even regarding the c
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 27 27
Literature
Attention - Septiplier
Descending down the staircase, a ridiculously sparkly green shirt catches Mark’s attention. His eyes darting like arrows, he moves his head to accommodate the view. Instantly, he’s hit with recognition. 
Suddenly, no one else around him matters. Pale skin draws him in and he feels himself rising from his chair, lured towards the figure who now wears a smirk as if it was some kind of cheeky pair of underwear. It’s a matter of seconds before Mark stands in front of him, with the loud music and flashing lights of the club blocking everything else out.
 
It’s Sean McLoughlin.
 
“I thought the shirt might be too much. What do you think?” he asks and Mark almost chokes on his breath as the memory of this man’s voice is rejuvenated like a pen refilled with ink. His accent is fading from his new LA life, but it’s still hidden there underneath. Mark can’t help but find himself missing it.
 
“I think it’s fine.
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PAX Panel ANTI 2017 - Phone Wallpaper by writeasoph PAX Panel ANTI 2017 - Phone Wallpaper :iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 75 6 DARKIPLIER by writeasoph DARKIPLIER :iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 115 23
Literature
Covert - Septiplier
5 little kiddies, stood in a row
Paint their wrists, so it won’t show
Keep them under, hidden from all
Or one by one, you’ll watch them fall
It’s almost quiet the first time it happens, the only sound being cutlery hitting and scraping empty bowls at the dinner table. No one looks up, simply concentrating on the lack of food and their stomachs still complaining. So when Aoife’s wrist begins to itch again, she writes it off, making sure to ask her mother for some soother after dinner. It’s only when it starts to burn when she drops her spoon out of shock with the metal clashing against the harsh table, shattering the silence in an instant.
“Aoife? What is it now? It can’t be hurting that much…” her mother says carelessly.
Not finding the voice to reply, she clenches her hand into a fist before banging it forcefully into the table, making her siblings jump almost collaboratively. She grips her wrist with he
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Baking Markiplier by writeasoph Baking Markiplier :iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 44 7
Literature
Gullible - Septiplier
Jack rushed on board the bus and sighed in relief when he saw a free seat. It was a miracle he even caught the bus, especially since the youngest of his 4 siblings was hellbent on staying in bed. Seeing that the bus was packed, he sat down hurriedly in the last free seat, not really caring who resided beside him.
After putting down his bag and making himself comfortable, he turned to his left to reveal who his seatmate was. Sat next to him was the one and only Mark Fischbach. Upon realising this, Jack felt stomach lurch. Hesitantly, he pivoted his body back towards the front, face tinted red to match his pale complexion. “Of all the people on this earth…” Jack thought, devastated.
Mark paid no mind to the internal crisis the man beside him was currently having, his nose buried into his phone. Though he was vaguely aware of a new body pressed against his elbow, Tumblr was more interesting.
Meanwhile, Jack tried to compose himself without making it too obvious to the al
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:iconwriteasoph:writeasoph 62 36

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writeasoph
The Angst Queen
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
I write a dead ship because it makes me happy and I don't offend anyone doing it.
*CURRENTLY SHOULD BE ON HIATUS BUT I WRITE THINGS RANDOMLY*
I'm obsessed with the holy trinity.
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Activity


“Markimoo?”


“Yeah?”


“What’s this?”



Hearing his long term boyfriend calling him from his bedroom, Mark could only hope that this wasn’t yet another prank. The pair had been at war recently, with the last prank having Jack screeching as blood red water poured out of the shower nozzle.


Mark had wanted to pull a full on Carrie, but he didn’t have enough fake blood to fill a bucket, so he settled for the red dye in the shower head instead.


Smiling to himself at the thought, Mark cautiously made his way over to their bedroom, where Jack had called from. With a suspicious look on his face, he crept into the room and held his hands out in front of him in case the Irishman threw something at him.


What he didn’t expect, was for Jack to be holding a ring box. The exact one that held the engagement ring he was planning to give to Jack on his birthday.


That was in two weeks.


He’d managed to waste an entire day just picking it out, not to mention having to battle Jack into assuming he was definitely somewhere else.


“I’m just getting some more t-shirts,”

“I’m just buying you that mug I smashed last week,”

“I’m buying cake ingredients?”


In the end, he’d chosen a simple silver band with a small diagonal stripe of diamonds across the top of it.


And Jack was holding the very thing that he wasn’t supposed to know existed yet.


Upon seeing it in his lover’s hands, all he could do was gawk. He had been planning this for weeks, with a small birthday party at Felix and Marzia’s, and then right at the very end, he was going to get down on one knee.


Too late for that now.


In staring at the green velvet box, he knew he had been caught red handed.


“...Uhm.... I don’t know, I’ve never seen it before,” Mark answered, putting on a doubtful face in the hope that maybe he could get away with it.


“Mark Fischbach you know better than to fucking lie to me. You know exactly what this is,” Jack replied, his face unbelieving and slightly awed. He could tell from the quality of the box and Mark’s slightly comical face that this was definitely an engagement ring.


“Were you going to propose to me?” Jack asked, his voice toned down into an almost whisper. At that moment, Mark could barely read Jack’s reaction. Was he happy? Was he...sad? Did he not want this yet?


Unsure of what to do, Mark nodded his head slowly, whilst fumbling with his fingers as a distraction. Sighing, he started “You see, I uh really really love you, you know. We’ve just been so happy and comfortable recently and I can’t see the rest of my life without you and you really weren’t supposed to find that yet and I completely understand if you don’t want this yet and I’msosorryifI’vemessedeverythingupand-”.


Shaking his head with a grin on his face, Jack stepped forward and dropping the box to the bed, took Mark’s anxious face in both hands and kissed him. In the comfort of the action, Mark sighed in relief. He was pretty sure that this meant he hadn’t screwed everything up.


Pulling back, Jack put his hand on Mark’s chest and looked up to him.


“You’re such a goober. You’re acting as if I would be mad that the one love of my life would want to marry me,” he laughed, shaking his head slightly.


“Look, knowing you, you’ve probably got some big do plan and everything that I’ve totally screwed over. Honestly, I just wanted to see if it was what I thought it was without opening it because I haven’t yet, just so you know,” Jack said, pushing the small box into Mark’s hand.


“This means everything to me, Mark. I know you’re not proposing now, but just know that on whatever day you choose, you don’t have to worry about me saying no,” he smiled and gave him a small peck on the cheek.


“Now, who’s up for cake, because I’m fucking starving!” Jack said, rushing out of the room.


Chuckling to himself, Mark stared at the box in his hand and opened it just to check that the ring was still in there. With a sparkle of light hitting him from the inside, he closed the box. Heading towards their bedside, he replaced it back into it’s hiding spot, even if it didn’t really need to be hidden anymore.


Besides, the underwear drawer probably wasn’t the best hiding place anyway.


Pleasant Surprises
Thanks to xAbsinthexx for uploading for me!

This short one came to me randomly today and for once i just stopped everything and wrote it and i think it turned out okay??

I think you guys deserve something happy, since I like only write depressing shit lol

Love you guys!

Soph xx
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and i exceeded my tumblr post limit
In case some of you aren't on tumblr, Anti is coming back today. Check Jack's instagram story.
i hate that feeling of knowing you want to write something and then just staring at a blank document and just becoming so intimidated since you don't know how to start that in the end you never do
i am ded for anti and dark killed meh 

He’s exhausted.


As he drags himself through the streets, thoughts flurry through his head without a care in the world. His cold, calm and collected stance and one track mind falter and he stumbles repeatedly.


He’s late. By this point, he’s late by a couple years but it’s the right time of day. The right hour, the right minute, the right second and he can only hope that maybe a fracture of his promise isn’t broken. With dark skies above him, threatening to rain any minute, he trundles on towards the house he’s tried so hard to stay away from.


He hopes for just a splinter, a tiny bit of hope that when he knocks on that door he won’t be shouted out or turned away. Of course, he knows he deserves it but he heavily doubts that he has the energy for such disappointment.


So he hopes.


With a feeble fist, he knocks on the door that he knew well a long time ago. The number is still wonky and the letter box still rusts on the bottom, but the person who opens the door is different.


Instead of bright blue eyes, chocolate meets cold and menacing cobalt. Innocent grey hair has been brightened an unnatural green. Piercings and tattoos litter his body and his emotions are mixed. Dark becomes awed by what appears to be a new similarity but lost at how someone he used to care for has disappeared.


He doesn’t recognise who stands in front of him.


“Who is it?” a voice in the background asks, something Dark hadn’t accounted for. Back in the day it had just been him and the boy. He supposed a replacement was a normal coping device.


It could easily be gotten rid of, that is if the any of the boy he knew was left in the man stood in front of him.


Meanwhile, the man staring at him never breaks eye contact. His face shows pure anger with a hint of disbelief but answers the voice behind him by opening the door a little wider. Dark is shown a man sat in a chair and with bleached blonde hair and by his expression he doesn’t recognise Dark.


Has he really been gone that long?


“Speak up Jack for fuck’s sake,” the man says, heaving himself out of the chair to come towards the door.


After what feels like decades of staring, ‘Jack’ turns to the man and Dark can only guess that he gives him some kind of telling look as the man stops in his tracks, eyes darting back and forth from Jack and Dark.


“If you are who Jack thinks you are, you’ve made a big mistake coming here. Seán isn’t here anymore, so I heavily suggest you leave,” the man says, his stance shifting from lazy to prepared.


So now he recognises him.


“Really? It’s so strange. I’d recognise those blue eyes anywhere,”


At that, Jack starts to shake his head with a denying smile plastered on his face. The boy he knew never had this anger, this pure passion for anything remotely like this. His hands never used to tremble as they curled into fists, either.


“No you don’t, Dark,” he says, and Dark can’t help but feel relieved at the familiar accent. It’s faded, but it’s still there. Through gritted teeth he continues, “You don’t get to walk straight back into my life like that, no way,”.


Dark knows that he deserves all this. Disappearing and faking your death isn’t something people take lightly. However, he still doesn’t expect Jack to sock him as he takes just one step forward.


The blow is a trained one, Dark can feel that from the perfect amount of damage it does. He recovers fairly easily and by looking over he can see that Jack does too.


It seems that the person in front of him has transformed from something needing protection, to a worthy opponent.


That’s something Dark wasn’t expecting.


“Okay, so you can pack a punch now,” Dark says, trying to even out his short breaths. “I’ll admit I did deserve that one,” he says.


“Deserve it?” Jack mocks and Dark can’t help but cower slightly at his voice. He’s weak and tired and this kind of fight wasn’t something he was expecting. It seems like the man from before can sense Jack’s anger and he tries to approach him to calm him down.


“You deserve so much more than what I just gave you. You deserve torture-”


“Jack-”


“-and being burned and poisoned-”


Jack-”


“-and whipped and starved-”


At that, the man behind him grabs his arm but Jack only wrestles it free before standing still and catching his breath. The sight is petrifying and Dark can only see shards of what he left behind.


It pains him to see how one job has ruined what used to be his.


“I know that this probably means nothing to you now and the last thing I want is to make you more angry, but I am truly sorry for what happened to you. I tried my best to get you out so many times-”


“Get me out? You tried to get me out? You were the one that put me in there!” Jack shouts and the man holds him back from hitting Dark again.


“Is that what they told you?” Dark asks and he feels his face drop further than he thought it could.


“Of course it is, because it’s the truth! I saw-”


“I was set up. A colleague of mine betrayed me and switched the hostages and I didn’t know it was you until-”


“Until I was bound up and in the chamber I guess? Locked up and left for dead?” Jack cuts off sarcastically, shaking his head.


“I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Guess that they knew that as well. Or at least he did,” Dark mutters to himself.


“Okay. Then, why are you here? After all this time, just when I’m about to forget all about this, you come back. Why?” Jack asks, and Dark’s head starts to ache from the earlier blow.


“I came back here because I promised Seán that I would come back for him. Obviously, he isn’t here anymore. I apologise for bothering you,” Dark answers. After that, the room subtly fills with silence, almost like smoke, and with nothing left to say Dark straightens up.


“Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” he says bitterly, “If Seán does ever reappear, please let me know,”


Turning his back to the men, he begins to wander away. He really hadn’t prepared for this outcome and now all he wanted was some rest. His head was reeling and the experience had drained him even more than he had thought it would.


He didn’t feel like himself.


“Why should I believe you didn’t do it? This whole time I’ve blamed you for everything,” Jack wonders out loud, and the query stops Dark in his tracks.


“I don’t know how involved you are in crime anymore, but if you’re completely mad and you still deal with those crooks, you might have heard of an ‘Anti’. He used you against me. If I hadn’t disappeared, you’d be dead,” Dark answers, before continuing on his path.


“Stop,” Jack says, and for the first time in the evening Dark hears the boy he left behind so long ago. The word has no imperative tone and yet it has some kind of power over him, a fire inside of him desperate to see the darling he lost so abruptly. Dark feels himself stop and turn to face him.


“I want to hear more...so I can believe you,” Jack says, and Dark can see Jack’s form nudged slightly by the still unknown man. It’s obviously a push of warning and Dark watches silently as Jack turns to reassure him. With one last stern look, the man steps aside and Jack gestures for Dark to return inside.


Anything for you,”


I Waited For You All My Life - Dark + Jack
This is something I wrote when I was a bit ill but apparently it's good?? Here you go, a little break from Hogwarts xD

Thanks to adorabloodthirstykitty and my bf for helping with opinions and titles <3

Love you guys so much!!

S x
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I have something written but its badddddd
I doubt there'll be a new chapter this week guys. We're both really busy

Sorry xx
Collateral damage—is that all you are, just bones grown old around a broken heart?
Is there a reason why you can’t heal?
Hate everything that he made you feel, but I still love you.

Collateral damage, is that all this was? Were these 10 years worth all that we lost?
And all the the shit that you dragged me through, I dragged you through.
We’ll never fix what we broken in two, but I still love you.



(hey looks its the old soph posting angsty af lyrics)

“...Jack…?” Someone called, although their voice was distant, like it was in another realm altogether. He shrugged it off, opting to stay in his floaty state. Where everything was okay, where everything was perfect.


“JACK! For fuck’s sake...” The same voice shouted, ripping him from his sweet dreamland as his covers were stripped from him and a cold draft hit him like a brick.


“Nooo...  m’tired…” He whined, vaguely aware of how scratchy his voice was. He groped around the bed, searching desperately for his lost warmth.


“Jack, we have to get to Umbridge’s office. She’s gonna flip if we don’t,” The voice was quiet, deep.


That woke him up.


“Aw crap!” he yelled, springing up in the bed in an instant.


Suddenly, the room seemed to flood with silence. Jack had sat bolt upright, not realising that Mark had been hovering just above him, probably about to drag him out of bed manually. He had just managed to stop inches before colliding with his face.


...Oh God, he’s so close to me. What do I do?


Jack stared at him, trying not to blink. He wanted to look into Mark’s dark brown eyes forever. They were beautiful. He was beautiful.


What if I just… kissed him? What would he do?


Jack found his temperature start to rise, small beads of sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He was also pretty sure his face was red, he just hoped Mark didn’t notice. He swallowed some of the excess saliva that had accumulated under his tongue.


I want to… I want to kiss him so badly, but… I-I can’t…


I can’t put him in that witch’s path.


“...Jesus Christ Jack,” Mark chuckled, pulling back slightly after a second of hesitation… as to not be so close. “Note to self: if you wanna wake Jackaboy up, threaten him with Umbridge,” he finished, and Jack swore that his cheeks were a little pinker than they were five seconds ago.


As if. Wishful thinking.


“C’mon, we have to go,” Mark mumbled, holding out his arm to haul Jack out of bed.


Jack hesitated, but eventually accepted, reminding himself that the feeling of Mark’s soft palm was not something he could get too attached to, but oh did he savour it.


The hallways were dark. If they weren’t going out to see Umbridge, she herself would have probably already swept the both of them up for breaking curfew, landing them at least two weeks detention each.


But without Umbridge breathing down their necks, the quietness of the castle was almost peaceful. It had an aura of magic to it. Not the kind of bullshit magic Trelawney taught, but the kind of magic that convinced Jack to believe this whole wizarding thing was real in the first place. It was astonishing.


Jack glanced over at Mark, and saw that he was smiling, his eyes locked on the Irishman.  When he saw that he was caught, he quickly turned away, opting instead to scan the castle portraits.


He couldn’t help the goofy smile that slowly bloomed across his face at the sight, matching what used to be Mark’s.


“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mark asked in a hushed tone, trying not to disturb the air around them.


“Yeah, it is,” Jack breathed, studying the way Mark moved when he walked. His arms swung slightly with each step, making his robes sway back and forth. His footsteps echoed softly against the tile, stepping in sync with Jack’s rapid heartbeat. He wasn’t talking about the castle anymore. He gulped, his cheeks rosy.


They walked for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the gentle breeze rustling the bushes outside. Suddenly, Mark stopped.


Jack stopped too, turning around to check on him, “Is somethin’ wrong?” he asked, taking a few steps toward his friend.


Mark eyed the floor, seeming to be searching for the right words. “It's just… I was thinking about earlier,” he mentioned, shuffling his feet sheepishly.


Jack’s heart dropped when he remembered his promise. “Right. Shit…” he whispered, running a hand through his hair nervously.


“I’m sorry, I just want to help,” Mark cried, turning towards him. “I wish that you’d let me,” he mumbled, his hand moving to Jack’s shoulder. “Please?”


Jack didn’t know what to do. It went against every moral he had to be lying to Mark like this. Mark was his friend, and Jack had always told him everything, but this wasn’t like that time he cried in the bathroom for an entire day when he found out his parents were getting divorced, this was him sharing a heartfelt confession to the person that comforted him that day when he was bawling his eyes out, whilst simultaneously shooing away anyone who came in.


“I-I’m just worried about what Umbridge is going to get out of me,” Jack spat, the half truth almost itching at his skin.


It’s not lying


“She always manages to find something… I can go in that room feelin’ innocent and convinced she won’t find anything, but there’s always something I know that I’ve forgotten or - I don’t know. I just hate the guilt I always feel afterwards. And... I-I... have a feeling today is going to be wors’ than usual…Oh no…” Jack’s voice faded out into a breathy whisper, the realisation hitting him like a pound of bricks.


She’s… She’s going to find out..!


“Jack?” Mark asked, nudging his side. Jack seemed to have frozen in place.


“Hm? Oh, sorry, I just remembered somethin’. I still have a couple of puking pastilles in my room,” he said, the breathiness still in his voice. If he was completely honest with himself, he felt like he was going to faint. Jack took a few shaky steps, feeling as if he were being walked to his own execution.


“Haha, nice,” Mark said, a low rumble resonating in his throat. Jack felt a little relieved, glad to have fooled Mark. It still made him feel bad, though, because he’d just lied again.


Fuck, this has to be a new record for “how many times one person can lie to their best friend in one day and them not flip their shit”


“Well, come on then. Don’t want dreary Umbridge to whip our asses for being late do we?” Mark chuckled. Jack couldn’t help but smile, as he always did when Mark laughed, it was like some kind of spell.


At long last, the two were standing in front of Umbridge’s office. It was decorated a sickly shade of magenta, like a fuzzy pink kitten puked and its hurl was used to paint the door. It hurt Jack’s eyes, actually.


With a deep breath in, Jack raised his arm to knock on the door. He surprised himself with how much his hand was shaking.


You can do this. Maybe she won’t even ask about that.


Mark placed a reassuring hand on the low of Jack’s back, patting gently. If only he knew how much that little gesture had actually helped. Jack visibly relaxed under him.


The knock echoed throughout the room, causing all of the paintings to cover their ears in annoyance. One even yelled at them to ‘keep it down!’, to which Mark had whispered a hushed apology.


After what felt like an eternity, a bubbly voice could be heard from the inside, “Come in, my dear children!”


The sugary sweet voice sickened both of them.


Entering the room, the boys saw as Umbridge put her precious china tea cup down and walked towards the two chairs she had set to the side of the room. Standing by them, she seemed almost proud of them as if they had allowed her to rat out every last rule-breaker in the whole school.


Jack just hoped that he wouldn’t be found among them.


“Right boys, who’s first?” she asked, looking for them to push the punishment on to each other, no one willing to sacrifice their pride first.


That’s why she was surprised when Mark stepped up first, sitting in the chair with only a slight glance at Jack, “I’ll go first, get it out of the way,”  Mark muttered sullenly, shifting in his seat.


“Mark, no. You don’t have to do this,” Jack put his hand on Mark's shoulder, adding some pressure as if to ease him off the chair. Mark shook his head.


“No,” he choked out, “no it’s okay. We both have to do it, I might as well get it over with,” he smiled reassuringly, sitting up straight. He locked eyes with Umbridge and nodded stiffly, “I’m ready.”


Umbridge clearly wasn’t expecting the two to fight over being first, and she looked between them suspiciously, almost uneasily. “Alright, Mr Fischbach… “ she said, the irritating singsong leaving her voice. Jack shivered, knowing when that happened, it was never good.


“Now, where is the damn thing,” she muttered, peering at her desk and moving to look through her drawers. She seemed to leave just enough time for Jack to give Mark a good luck look and a reassuring nod before she returned.


“Got it!”


Jack instantly recognised the clear potion in her hand to be Veritaserum: “Verita” meaning truth in Latin. They were taught that 3 drops was enough for any crazed villain to spill their most secretive desires (an idea which seemed to please Professor Snape greatly). Umbridge was clearly feeling arrogant holding it, her crazed smile intent on making Jack feel vulnerable.


It'll be okay. This'll be over soon.


“Would you like it in a cup of tea?” She asked kindly, her manipulative mask returning. Jack could see Mark gulp, not falling for her act. He quickly shook his head.


“N-No thanks… I don’t really like tea,” he whispered, losing eye contact.


Umbridge pouted, her pink lips pursing together, “What a shame… Oh well, no harm done!” she finished, pouring a few drops of the Veritaserum into a teaspoon. It had a kitten on the end of it, because of course it did. “Drink up!”.


Mark took the spoon with trembling hands, slowly inching it towards his opened mouth. He hesitated when the metal touched his lips. Jack could feel his heart shatter when he saw tears form around Mark’s dark brown eyes.


“Now, now, dear, don’t test me. Drink it.” Umbridge said, warning him. Jack glared at her from the other side of the small pink office. He was sure Umbridge noticed, but she didn’t say anything.


Mark quickly squeezed his eyes shut and stuck the spoon in his mouth, emptying it of its contents. He gagged, as if it tasted horrible, but Jack knew that it had no taste.


That didn’t stop him from almost getting sick the first seven times he took it, though.


Mark choked a few times, his hand covering his mouth to keep it all in. Jack winced with each sound he made, the pit of guilt in his stomach deepening. He didn't know what to do anymore.


At long last, Mark gave a full bodied shiver, a signal that he had successfully ingested the potion. The tears ran down his face freely, and Jack wasn’t sure if it was from the choking or if he was actually crying. He opted to go with the former, finally taking a seat. Jack couldn’t stand up anymore, his knees were shaking too badly to support his weight.


“Good, you managed to keep it down. Unlike your first time, Mr Fischbach,” she said, annoyance lacing her voice. Mark shuddered, his head hanging in defeat. Umbridge grinned wickedly, rising from her chair to circle him.


“Now just to make sure we’re on the right track, what’s your name?” she took slow, threatening steps around the dark-haired man, her smile almost widening at his shallow breaths.


“..M-Mark Edward Fischbach, Professor…” he said in a low voice. Jack’s jaw hung open, his whole body trembling now. Mark didn't even sound like himself.


Jack wanted to cry. He wanted to cry, he wanted to curse, he wanted to run over and kiss Mark all over and tell him it would be okay, but his body wouldn't move. All he could do was watch.


“Good. Now tell me, Mr Fischbach, how old will you be as of this year?” Umbridge asked, resting her weight on Mark’s chair.


“I’ll be eighteen in June, Professor.” he mumbled again, a glaze over his eyes. Jack could feel his heart rate increase, fear starting to cloud his mind.


“Good, good. Are you comfortable, Mr Fischbach?” She asked, sneaking a glance at Jack, who by now had a look of pure terror on his face.


Mark’s eyes squeezed together painfully, this was the first question he had any urge to lie with. His shoulders tensed up for a second, before he relaxed again. “No, Professor.”


Umbridge clicked her tongue, “Pity, I tried so hard to make sure you were comfortable. Are you ungrateful, child?” she asked gingerly, running a finger down Mark’s cheekbone, leaving a small red mark.


Jack found himself unable to sit still, his mind and heart urging him to get Umbridge away from Mark. He started to shiver uncontrollably and his feet wouldn’t stop tapping.


Umbridge turned her head, glaring daggers. “Is there a problem, Mr McLoughlin?” Umbridge said, her voice a menacing whisper.


You’re hurting him.


Jack shook his head fast though, “N-No, c-continue,” he cursed himself for stuttering, but his lip wouldn’t stop quivering long enough for him to form a coherent sentence. Biting it, he managed to regain some sense of reality, reminding himself that he wouldn’t be able to tell even a simple lie like that in ten minutes.


Slowly, Umbridge shifted her gaze back to Mark, tracing her finger down the scratch on Mark’s cheek lovingly. “My dear boy, I’ll ask again, are you ungrateful?”


“No, Professor, I am not ungrateful,” Mark breathed, monotoned.


Umbridge blinked a few times, obviously wondering if the Veritaserum was still working. She shrugged it off, “Right. Then, have you recently lied to anyone in a position of authority?”

She said, opting to sit back down in her chair. It seemed like she was bored of Mark already.


Jack grit his teeth.


Mark sucked in a rushed breath, his muscles tensing once again, trying to resist the serum. It looked like he was in agony, his hands twitching from the effort. “Yes!” he blurt out, almost desperately. Instantly, he relaxed, beads of sweat soaking the front of his hair, his lungs greedily inhaling oxygen.


Umbridge nodded, satisfied. “Who? And when?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.


“I-I don't usually, I-I try not to, I mean-” Mark stammered, scratching at his neck.


“Just answer me, you foolish boy,” Umbridge spat, losing her composure for a split second. However with a small cough, her practised smile returned.


Mark and Jack both flinched when she raised her voice, “I-It was Professor McGonagall, today, I-I lied and said Jack was ill… and I lied to Professor Trelawney today, I said I had to use the bathroom and I skipped class,” he gasped, hunching over slightly. The power of the serum was exhausting, especially when the participant was unwilling.


Tutting to herself, Umbridge continued to write notes on a piece of nearby parchment. “Alright. Now, do you know anyone who has broken any of the rules?”


Mark whipped a hand over his mouth, his entire body shaking. An ear-splitting cry was stripped from his throat as Jack watched on in horror. Of course, it had to be that day when Jack had skipped class and walked out, accidentally dragging Mark in on everything. He was the one who did this, and he knew Mark didn't want to rat him out.


“I-It’s okay, Mark! You can tell her! I won't be upset!” Jack cried out, attempting to stand up. It didn’t work, and he collapsed back on the chair almost instantly. The room had become dark and depressing, it’s atmosphere choking him into submission.


With Jack’s permission, Mark could breathe again, “J-Jack ran out of Divination today, he told me he was just stressed out. A-And on the way here he told me he still has some puking pastilles in his room,” he finished, fighting for air and grasping at his chest for dear life, “A-And Fred and George are the ones who put the fireworks in your kettle…” he added, almost absentmindedly.


Umbridge glared at Jack, who buried his head in his robes to avoid her gaze, and she scribbled a few more notes down, mouthing the Weasley twins names as she did so. “Yes, okay. How about you, Mr Fischbach? Have you broken any rules?”


Mark went silent for a moment, but it didn't look like he was hurting, he just looked confused. Like he’d forgotten something. “I.... skipped class once at the beginning of the year to go down to Hogsmeade. I wanted to go with Jack, but he didn't come.” Mark looked sullen, emotionless. His eyes were tired, lacking the cheerfulness they had - Christ, had they only been here ten minutes? It felt like an eternity,


Jack sunk down in his seat, his heartbeat sounding in his ears. Knowing that his own interrogation was right after this next question, he found himself holding his breath.


“Right then, that should be all for today, Mr Fischbach. Is there anything else you would like to say?”


“N-No, Professor,” Mark sighed, picking himself off the chair. He wobbled in place for a second, struggling to regain his balance, but eventually planted both of his feet on the ground.


“Alright, then. You may take a seat.” Umbridge said, gesturing to the seat Jack was sitting in.


“Woah woah, hold on, H-He’s staying?” Jack stuttered, looking between Umbridge and Mark with wide eyes. He tried to ignore Mark’s piercing gaze directed towards him, and the frown that was so firmly settled upon his face.


“Why shouldn’t he?” Umbridge asked, a suspicious look on her tilted face.


“Yeah Jack, why shouldn’t I?” Mark muttered, the Veritaserum obviously still in effect. He had little control over what came out of his mouth.


“I-I… uhm… you…” Jack blinked a few times, trying to keep his voice steady. By now, he was on his feet taking a few hesitant steps towards the interrogation chair.


Mark’s face contorted, and he sighed, “Save it, Jack. You’ve been like this all day. I don’t want to hear it anymore...” He sat down in Jack’s empty seat, head in his hands.


Panicking, Jack saw Umbridge’s face light up at the thought of another question to ask Mark and hurriedly threw himself into Mark’s chair before she had the chance. Mark didn't take notice to Jack’s actions, he was furiously rubbing the tears off his face with the end of his sleeve.


Umbridge eyed Jack, coughing “Alright then, Mr. McLoughlin, are you ready to begin?” she asked, although it wasn’t a question. Jack knew that much. His shoulders relaxed some, relieved that Mark wasn’t in the picture anymore. He’d already put Mark through enough as it is.


“No,” Jack grumbled, wiping at his eyes. He was crying again for fucks sake. Slowly, he felt his body curl in on itself. Shaking, he accepted his fate. Almost.


Mark was going to find out, and he couldn’t do anything about it.


Jack felt so many emotions at once, he thought he would pass out. He bit his lip harshly, almost breaking the skin, hoping the pain would bring him back to reality. It didn’t.


“So let’s begin, then. I expect you’ll have it in a teaspoon, as per usual?” Umbridge asked, ignorant, or rather, seeming ignorant to Jack’s state. She was already preparing the bright pink metal.


“Well, seeing you have it ready,” Jack muttered, taking the spoon from her. It already had the odorless, clear substance it. He gulped.


Before he could think about it too much, Jack stuck the spoon in his mouth, swallowing the contents. It settled, heavy in his abdomen.  His throat tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Jack coughed, choking on the air that had followed the potion. After a few seconds though, he shivered, a queasy feeling blooming in his stomach. At least he didn’t gag this time.


They sat in silence for a few seconds, Jack catching his breath, before Umbridge spoke up. “Well boy, surely you know the routine by now. What’s your name?”


Jack opened and closed his eyes slowly, his mind already cloudy from the potion. It didn’t dull the panic set into his chest, though.


“Jack McLoughlin,” he said, his voice strained. His knee bounced with anxiety.


“That’s not your name. I need your real name, dear,” Umbridge stated, waiting. She impatiently tapped her foot on the carpeted floor


Fuckin’ bitch.


“Seán McLoughlin,” Jack replied, wincing at the sound of his name. He fidgeted with the bands on his arms.


“Very good, Mr McLoughlin. Thank you for your cooperation. Now, how old will you be as of this year?”


“I turned 17 this past February,” Jack said, the Veritaserum ripping words from his vocal cords that would have been otherwise impossible to emit from the state of pure terror he was in.


“Right right, you and Mr Fischbach are in your final year,” Umbridge mentioned absentmindedly, and Mark looked up when he heard his name, his eyes settling on the tearful green-haired boy. Jack held back a sob, he’d rather be shot than have anyone see him like this. Let alone Mark.


“Are you comfortable, Mr McLoughlin?” Umbridge asked softly, leaning forwards slightly to stare daggers into Jack.


Jack felt his chest clench, his knee bouncing faster. At this point, he found that he had some kind of resistance over the serum, like he was used to the effects. Jack knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to fling a string of curses in her direction, but he found that he stopped himself before he could. Not without a head splitting ache going through his left temple, though.


“It feels like I’ve been kicked in the arse with a steel-toed boot,” Jack said through his gritted teeth. It was… more or less the truth, minus some of the foul things the Veritaserum wanted to add that would have surely landed him with a full month’s detention, easily. He learned that the hard way the first time he was interrogated, earning him two weeks in the madhouse he called ‘Umbridge’s office’.


Okay, so maybe “It feels like I’ve been fucked up the ass five hours too long,” was a bit of a stretch, even under the Veritaserum.


Alright, so perhaps it wasn’t entirely the Veritaserum.


Let’s just say Jack never made that mistake again.


It did make Mark cry with laughter, though. So it was worth it, in some sense.


Goddammit, Mark.


With a hurried glance to his left, Jack saw that Mark was slowly coming back to his senses, his face turned solemn and plain.


God, I’m so sorry.


Umbridge sighed, “Good enough. Now boy, have you recently lied to someone of high authority?” the Professor asked expectantly.


Well there was that time last week when you told Professor Sprout you-


“I… I don’t remember,” he said, biting the inside of his cheek and testing the waters on how much he could actually manipulate the Veritaserum. Jack’s hands shook with vigor, his body punishing him for lying.


I can do this. I-I don’t have to tell her anything...


“Really?” she said, her voice monotone and laced with sarcasm. It quickly became apparent that she didn’t believe him. Jack knew that a test question would come next, having obviously lied.


“What is your opinion of me as a teacher?”


Shit... That’s a new one.


Jack knew that he had to let go for this question, but also that it was a double edged sword. Too honest a reply and she would punish him for his rudeness, too kind of an answer and she would know of his newfound resistance.


“I think that you should definitely improve on your teaching methods,” Jack stated simply, the Veritaserum keeping the tremble out of his voice. It still offered him discipline for the half truth though, and he nearly doubled over from the pressure suddenly filling his lungs.


It became too much too quickly, and his voice came out rushed and hoarse, “like perhaps allowing your students to actually use magic?” he finished, coughing into an arm. His eyes widened at the outburst.


Shit, shit shit! Why isn’t it working now?


Umbridge seemed satisfied with that answer, and she grinned maliciously, “Well, the Ministry and I have our reasons…” she paced around the small room, suddenly deep in thought.


Jack could feel the panic start to stir in his abdomen again, if he couldn’t lie when… that question came around… Mark was going to hate him, at least for telling him like this.


He could feel Mark’s eyes locked on the side of his head, watching, waiting. For what, only Mark would ever know.


Jack could feel bile burn the back of his throat.


Umbridge snapped out of her trance quickly, clearing her throat, “Ahem, well, we must continue then... Do you know anyone who has broken any rules?”


Jack felt a pang in his chest, several candidates forming in his mind. He shook his head forcefully, willing his body not to shout out names.


Seamus, Cho, Lavender, Katie…


All of them pushed painfully to the back of his head, all except one.


Me. I broke the rules.


Jack tried to hold back, he tried until he was wheezing, grasping onto his chest in desperation. It hurt like hell, it felt like his entire body was burning from the inside out. He had to hold back, he had to. He couldn’t lose Mark.


But as black patches started to cloud his vision, it looked like he was fighting a losing battle.


“...I broke the rules.” Jack gasped quietly, the pain deteriorating to a dull ache, but the pure dread that resided in every fiber of his body left his head spinning.


Umbridge pursed her lips together after witnessing Jack’s obvious struggle, “...Perhaps you need a little more, hm? Maybe that will get the truth out of you,” Umbridge said, already refilling the spoon.


Jack shook his head weakly, “No, no please…” he muttered incoherently, having lost any shred of dignity he had left.


“Oh come on now, don’t be like that,” Umbridge replied carelessly, muttering an incantation. The spoon slowly levitated towards Jack.


“Please… Professor… Please don’t, I’m begging you, please don’t... “ Jack whimpered, burying his face in his hands.


“Mr McLoughlin, this will be much easier if you would just cooperate,” Umbridge said, her teeth clenched. Jack felt the pull of magic attempt to raise his head.


“He said enough,” Mark growled suddenly, his voice low and dangerous. Jack winced, having only heard this a few times in his life. He braced himself, Mark was angry.


“You’re not in a position to be threatening me, Mr Fischbach, so I will kindly give you this chance to apologise and allow us to continue,” Umbridge replied, a certain bite in her voice that made Mark grimace.


“Fuck you,” Mark spat, standing up to tower over her. He wasn’t very tall, but even his 176 cm (5’10) figure was taller than Umbridge’s plump form. She glared at him viciously.


“M-Mark please don't,” Jack whispered, his tear-filled blue eyes looking up to meet Mark’s rage.


“Don't what, Jack? You don't have to take this bullshit! It's illegal, for fuck’s sake! This is abuse!” Mark shouted, gesturing to Umbridge, who by now was shaking with fury.


“I’ll have you know Mr Fischbach, I am a member of the Ministry-” Umbridge stated calmly. Well, as calm as she could given the matter.


“You didn’t have to put up with it then and I’m not letting you put up with it now!” Mark cried out, pleading with Jack to just fight back for once in his life.


“I-I…”


“And as for you, I don’t give a shit!” Mark roared, getting in Umbridge’s face, “I'd bet if the Ministry knew what bullshit you were up to, you’d be fired faster than you could say ‘my methods are validated’!” he finished, breathing heavily.


“This is your last chance Mr Fischbach, sit back down and apologise and no action will be taken against you. If you fail to do this, you will be as good as expelled. Shame, too. I’d hate for purebloods like you to not receive a full education,” Umbridge warned, pointing firmly to the seat beside him.


“Mark…” Jack whispered, shaking.


“What, Jack? What now?” Mark asked, almost in a whimper. It was clear that he was hurt by Jack’s actions throughout the day and it was starting to really show.


Jack inhaled a breath, “You put up with this,” he said carefully, breaking eye contact.


“I… what?” Mark mumbled, looking at Jack as if he had ten heads.


“You… never get upset when it's just you involved... W-Why are you always defending me? I-I’m not a child, Mark… I-I’m not that weak little boy you met at the station,” Jack finished, his breathing suddenly faster. It was one of the many things he’d admired about Mark, how adamant he always was when it came to Jack getting treated fairly, but if he got expelled defending Jack…Jack would never forgive himself.


Especially after the confession Jack was sure he was about to make. Mark would come to regret his decision, too.


“I…” Mark seemed taken aback, and if possible, looked more hurt than he did when Jack wanted him out of the room.


Jack wanted to laugh bitterly. His stupid crush had ruined his friendship and Mark didn't even know yet.


Mark sat back down, muttering a quick apology and looking sullenly at the floor.


Jack’s heart absolutely shattered in his chest, but deep down he knew it was for the best.


“I accept your apology, just make sure that it never happens again Mr Fischbach,” Umbridge warned, ecstatic that she’d won.


“Right,” Mark mumbled, his stoic expression still locked on his feet.


“Now that we got that in order… your Veritaserum Mr McLoughlin. Two more spoonfuls,” she said, and Jack didn’t argue anymore. There was no point. Umbridge stalked forward gracefully, manually shoving the spoon down Jack’s throat.


Jack gagged that time, and he was still recovering when the second spoon was forcefully administered.


The second dose of Veritaserum did not want to stay down, his entire body was fighting for it to come back up.


Jack gagged, and coughed, and sputtered, anything to get it out of his system.


Until he felt pressure in his throat, and then he was choking. Choking on nothing, choking on air.


Choking on whatever Umbridge was doing to him.


“Don’t you dare throw up, boy!” She barked, her wand pointed at Jack.


Jack gasped for the air he couldn’t get, drool stringing from his lips. He vaguely heard Mark shouting something at Umbridge, but the ringing in his ears blocked his words.


He gave a shiver, his stomach finally accepting the foul serum.


All at once, it was over. Jack could breathe again, and he greedily sucked in as much air as his body would allow. He blinked away stars from his vision, his eyes finally focusing.


Mark was stuck to the chair with a binding charm, thrashing violently, shouting strings of curses in every direction.


“There. Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Umbridge asked sweetly, lowering her wand.


Jack continued to breathe heavily, but the Veritaserum pulled words from him anyway, “Yeah, it kind of was,” he said airily, hands coming up to wipe the sweat drenching his hairline.


Umbridge absolutely beamed, glad to have finally tired Jack out. “Now, I will only ask you this once, Mr Mcloughlin. What rule have you broken that you are so intent on hiding from not just the Ministry, but also from Mr Fischbach here?” she questioned, a shit-eating grin plastered on her plump pink cheeks.


Mark looked up, his eyes tired and still worried, his anger disapparating. Jack found himself longingly glancing towards him.


Please don’t hate me for what I’m about to do.


“It’s okay, Jack,” Mark said, reading his look perfectly. “I don’t care what you’ve done or anything like that. The Veritaserum must be hurting you, I can see it is. Just say it. Don’t hide anything for my sake,” he said sincerely.


I’m not hiding it for your sake, I’m hiding it for mine.


Attempting to blink away tears, Jack sucked in a shallow breath. Opening his eyes, he let the Veritaserum pull him into a trance, allowing all fight to drain out of him.



“I’m… I’m in love with Mark,” Jack said, almost robotically. It was void of any emotion he would have given under literally any other circumstance.



It was an amazing feeling, though. Relief clouding his mind and making him so high on giddiness, he felt like fainting. It didn’t last long when he saw Mark’s gobsmacked face, forcefully hurling him back into reality.


He’d just confessed. In front of Umbridge. In front of Mark.

It was over.


“B-But you… you’re s-straight…?” Mark asked, his voice fearful and quiet. He’d stopped thrashing a while ago, but he never went completely still. Not until now.


Jack could have died, his entire world disintegrating. Night after night of imagining how he might confess, he never would have guessed Mark would say that.


The Veritaserum still did the talking, Jack having lost all energy a while ago. “No, Mark. I’m gay. Did you really think I broke up with Cho because ‘she was too clingy’? We’d barely hung out,” he finished weakly, astonished at his own words. That was not what he wanted to say.


But if he said it, then surely it had to be the truth?


Mark opened his mouth, but nothing came out, the tense atmosphere acting like a void.  He continued to look desperately at Jack, as if waiting for him to come out with a joke like he always did.


Not this time.


“Ah, yes. Young love. Between best friends too. How sickening,”


Jack truly did feel sick. What was going to happen to him now?


“And I assume it's one sided, since Mr Fischbach made no such...confession,” she said with her head held high, twisting the knife in Jack’s heart. Jack raised his left hand to his chest, almost to make sure it was purely metaphorical.


“Well Mr McLoughlin, I'm sure you’ll be pleased to know that it unfortunately isn't exactly illegal to be homosexual in itself, so you can carry on with whatever activities you like to think about. However, just know that they must stay in your imagination and go no place else. The ban is on acts, I unfortunately cannot control who you choose to be attracted to, or what disgusting images you conjure up in that head of yours,” Umbridge spat.


Jack blinked slowly, unsure whether to feel relieved, attacked, or still hurt by Mark’s actions.


Can one body feel all those emotions at once?


“So Mr McLoughlin. What are you going to do, and what are you not going to do?”


“...I’m going to keep my ‘fantasies inside my head’…” Jack whispered, the thought of Mark being completely out of reach indefinitely.


But what did it matter? Mark didn’t love him back.


He never will.


“And?” Umbridge pushed, gesturing in a ‘continue’ motion.


“And I won’t court Mark,” Jack finished, wiping at his eyes. There were no tears, he’d cried himself out.


“Right you won’t,” Umbridge stated, releasing Mark’s binding charm. He stayed in his chair, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.


“I’m feeling generous this evening, Mr McLoughlin,” Umbridge beamed, “you don’t have to stay for your detention. Have a nice night,” she said, clearly proud of the uncomfortable mess that she had made.


Jack didn't want to move. He hated this room, hated the walls, the decor, the woman who owned it, but leaving this room meant dealing with the consequences.


Leaving this room meant that this was all real.


Feeling a hand on his arm, he jerked away from it, his trance broken. Looking up he saw it was Mark, trying to help him up, now hurt at receiving the impulsive action.


Jack didn’t reach for him again, he didn’t bother trying to recover. Slowly, he stood and dragged himself out the room, feeling the self pity and loathing pour into him as if from a tap.


This morning had felt euphoric, a chance with someone he trusted and loved. Now he felt dead, like everything he loved or could love had been taken away from him. Everything felt spoiled, ruined like wine on a silk white dress.


Jack walked out ahead, not bothering to look back for the man he knew was following him. All he wanted was to bury himself in his bed and never come out again.


“Jack?” He heard. He couldn't decide whether Mark’s voice was the only thing he wanted to hear right now, or the one thing he never wanted to hear again.


“Jack, please,” Mark pleaded, chasing after him as Jack willed himself to walk faster and faster. Eventually Mark managed to place a hand on his shoulder, turning him around and stopping him in his tracks.


“What do you want Mark? After all that, what could you possibly want? You've clearly made it obvious how you feel,” Jack spat, his desire for solitude taking over.


“Look, I know that that was real hard on you. I understand, okay? But do you want to just, forget about this? I mean we can just pretend that this never happened and go back to normal, she doesn't have to mess everything up. This can be easy on the both of us-”


“Easy?! Really Mark? Do you know how long I’ve felt this way about you? I can’t just ‘drop it’ in a day, because believe me, I’ve tried!” Jack shouted, his voice turning from angry to upset. With the outburst, everything seemed to overwhelm him and looking up, he felt tears swimming in his eyes. Wiping them away, his face crumpled and he felt himself slowly fall apart.


“Boys? What are you doing out at this time of night?”


Surprised, the boys turned to their left to find Professor McGonagall approaching them with a stern look on her face. However, it only took one glance at Jack’s tear stained cheeks for it to fade, her advance softening.


“Seán? Whatever is the matter, dear boy?”


Jack’s chest squeezed, the Professor’s tone reminding him of his mother who has been long since forgotten in the household he currently belonged to.


“Another Veritaserum appointment,” Mark said cryptically, shuffling his feet.


Another one?” McGonagall breathed, shocked at how often the poor boy had been taken in.


At that, Jack had had enough. Despite being able to trust Professor McGonagall with his life, he couldn't face her, not after that. Ignoring Mark’s and the Professor’s concerned calls, he found himself running away to the Gryffindor's bed chambers.


Full of shame and tears still rolling down his cheeks, the boy buried himself in his bed, not bothering with his crumpled uniform.


After today, it should have been impossible to fall asleep, but Jack never slept more soundly, the remains of the Veritaserum lulling him away.


The next morning, he had about three seconds of peace, before he remembered who he was. At that point, he found himself wishing that he had never woken up.


Rules Are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with you) 4
hi guys

this chapter is longer than most of my fics i think xDD
have fun, this chapter was basically the idea of this whole fic. we kept having to add some chapters in front of it though so that it made sense 

hope you enjoy it! we worked really hard on this bit so faves are always appreciated!!

love you guys
soph

co author: xAbsinthexx 
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RAMTBB(WIWY) will be posted later today

Sorry for the delay!
Ẽ̸̢̺̝͎̘̰̇̍̀̕͠͝n̴̡̨̮͍̹̯̪̙̻̻͓̲͔̭̊̒͒̃͂̅̌͂̂̚͝j̷͙̬͈̼͓̓͐́́̇͂̅̄́̑͘̚͠o̷̡̯͖̱̦̩̟̯̭̞͓͓̠̦̓y̸̦͎̦̘͔̮̏̐̉ͅ.̷̨̩̲̠̪͈̰̱͉͎̪͈͖͍͒̾̊̍̽̓
Chapter 2

This was it. He was going to do it. No more waiting.

It was perfect, really. They were in class with Umbridge, so he couldn’t exactly freak out or run away. Jack bit his lip sheepishly; it was actually sort of a dick move. Mark would be forced to sit next to him for the rest of the period, regardless of how he reacted.

But what other option was there? At least it meant he had a chance to explain himself fully.

Jack let out a quiet sigh, fiddling with the seam of his robes. It was now or never.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and breathed in. He could do this. It was only Mark.

“Hey Mark uh, listen,” Jack whispered, silently begging that Umbridge wouldn’t hear him. Generally, Jack didn’t abide by Umbridge’s rules but honestly, today was the one day he didn’t want to piss her off.

Too late.

“Mr McLoughlin! What do you think you’re doing talking in my class again?!”

“Nothing Professor, sorry,” he said, avoiding eye contact. After a few hushed whispers at how polite Jack had been and that he was probably up to something, Umbridge managed to resume her normal spiel, which Jack paid no more mind to than usual.

“Good. Now as I was saying the Ministry has introduced a new legislation,” she said, eyeing up Jack at the back. Usually, when she looked at him like that, Jack would chuckle at the unsatisfied frown on her face, but today it was a smile. He would never admit it, but it did unnerve him slightly.

Once her gaze had left to someone else, Jack felt Mark nudge him slightly, a sign that he was still listening. Gulping, Jack prepared to say what had been plaguing him over the past couple of months. He could almost imagine the relief he would feel as he finally got it off his chest. He opened his mouth to say it, feeling the words form on his tongue.

“Mark… I-”

“From now on at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there will be no kind of homosexual activity in the vicinity. As I’m sure you all know, your previous Headmaster was amongst these...people, and the last thing I want as your new Headmistress is for any of you to follow his footsteps on the road to disaster. I only want the best for you, lovely children. So, as expected, anyone found engaging in these disgusting activities will be… punished.” She finished, annunciating every syllable of her final word. She looked around the class, letting the new air settle in the room. Finally, she took an exaggerated breath in, “Now! With that out of the way, let’s begin, shall we? Turn to page 394.”

Anything Jack was about to say died in his throat, and he froze with his gaze stuck on Mark. His mouth was slowly opening and closing, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. Everything around him was silent, drowned out by the ringing in his ears. The flutter of nervous excitement in his gut was now replaced with a sick feeling, almost causing him to gag.

It didn’t take long for Mark to notice Jack’s strange behaviour, his eyebrow raising in concern for the green-haired boy. When Jack didn’t respond, he gave him a small nudge. “Jack? Are you alright?” He asked in the quietest tone he could muster, his eyes darting nervously to the front of the room, keeping an eye on Umbridge.

Jack blinked a few times, trying to retain his composure, “Yeah, yeah ‘course I'm all right, Mark, why wouldn’t I be?” he said, keeping a false steadiness in his tone that left a foul taste in his mouth. He hated lying to Mark.

“Well, what were you gonna say then?” Mark asked, worried about his friend.

Jack’s shoulders stiffened, “W-Well, I-I was… I was wonderin’ what you were havin’ for dinner?” he stuttered out nervously, eyes wandering to the floor to make himself seem smaller.

“Everyone has the same thing, Jack?” Mark said, with a puzzled look on his face. Jack mentally slapped himself, his cheeks turning a bright red in contrast to his pale complexion.

“Haha...yeh, I’m only jokin’,” Jack chuckled nervously, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. It left angry red welts.

“Mr McLoughlin and Mr Fischbach, what on earth could you two be talking about that’s more important than my lesson? Would you care to share with the class?” Umbridge said, suddenly appearing in front of the two boys, making them jump.

“Lunch, Professor,” Mark said, daring to look the witch in the eye. He never was one to back down from a challenge, especially one from Umbridge.

Sighing heavily in disgust, she plastered on another sickly sweet smile before batting her eyelashes towards Jack.

“Mr McLoughlin, thank you for reminding me that your Veritaserum appointment is tonight. I’m sure you won’t forget,” she said, sending shivers down Jack’s spine, adding to the heaviness already in his chest. Veritaserum was one hell of a potion, and no one enjoyed the vulnerability you felt after spilling your deepest secrets. He slid down further into his seat, blinking away tears. When he realised he was about to cry, Jack was beside himself with anger. He wasn’t like this! But something about the new regulation made him feel minuscule; it made him feel weak.

The whole class turned around to the sound of Mark’s chair squeaking against the floor, only to see him hunched over the table in aggravation.

“That’s hardly fair; Jack got picked just a week ago!” Mark argued, gesturing wildly. Jack couldn’t help but give him a weak smile of admiration, just while he wasn’t looking.

“Mr Fischbach, I suggest you be quiet. Unless you want to join him, of course!” Umbridge said sternly, a nasty grin painting her face.

“This is bullshit...” Jack muttered under his breath, hunching over his crossed arms.

“Right. After school detention for Mr McLoughlin for your foul language and a joint Veritaserum appointment for the both of you. I’m sure that it’ll be much more fun with two,” she giggled. Jack resisted the urge to flip her off.

Ever since Dolores Umbridge had been hired to take over Dumbledore, the school had been stricter than ever, with new rules and boundaries. That even included a weekly Veritaserum ‘raffle’, which meant that a few students were ‘randomly’ selected each week for interrogation over broken rules and guidelines. Since the beginning of the year, Jack was selected nine times, and Mark had been selected once. It was a bullshit system, and Jack knew it. Umbridge had hated his guts since he’d "accidentally" set her skirt on fire in back in September.

Disgusted, Mark sank back into his seat. Umbridge was always like that, but Jack still didn’t get why Mark managed to get so worked up about it every time. He’d given up with the madwoman a while ago.

Funny, that. Mark never got upset when he was the only one in trouble.

Jack coughed, shoving that thought as deep down as he possibly could. He did not need to think about that now, or anytime, really.

Mark was off limits, at least in that regard.

I'd rather get rejected than this bullshit.
Jack thought bitterly, repressing a laugh.

Why was this the only rule he didn’t dare break? Was he afraid of Mark getting hurt?

Glancing over to Mark, he found that he was. Who knows what kind of illegal or painful conversion therapy she had up her sleeve. Knowing Umbridge, if she even figured out that the feelings were one-sided, she would punish Mark anyway.

But were they one-sided? He’d never gotten a chance to tell him… What if…?

Jack shook his head furiously, sneaking a glance at the brown haired man working halfheartedly. He put his head in his hands. Why couldn’t he be normal?

What has he gotten himself into?

Looking over to Mark again, Jack couldn’t help but feel guilty at his friend’s melancholy expression. If he had just stood up for himself like he usually did, Mark wouldn’t even be involved, never mind having a Veritaserum appointment tonight.

Hoping to make him feel a little less useless, Jack found himself nudging Mark and giving him a gentle smile.

Thank you.

At that, Mark seemed a little more contented and a little less on edge. Thankfully, Umbridge ignored the pair for the rest of the lesson, and soon they were free to go.

Stepping out of the classroom admittedly felt like a breath of relief for both of them, and after a reassuring grin at each other, the pair made their way to the astronomy tower. There was nothing better than spending an hour talking over Professor Trelawney and her crazy tea leaf or star techniques.

Although, as the boys settled down at their usual table, Jack still couldn’t get Umbridge’s stupid rule out his head.

Her prejudice against Dumbledore had always been apparent, and now that he was ‘out of the way’ she had free reign over the whole school.

Jack had always chosen to break the rules. It gave him a kick to watch Umbridge grit her teeth at his green hair, or gawk at him for arriving at classes late. But he couldn’t control that he was gay, he couldn’t control the fact that he felt almost no attraction to the opposite sex. He couldn’t control that Umbridge not only hated his guts but who he was in general. He wasn’t breaking a rule, his entire being was. And it killed him inside that it wasn’t his choice.

“...It really is bullshit,” Mark murmured, stopping Jack’s train of thought.

“What is?” Jack asked, having been distracted.

“The gay ban! Since when did she have authority over who people are, or who people date? It’s ridiculous,” Mark said, pouting. It was as if he read Jack’s mind.

Jack almost choked, this was the last thing he wanted to have a conversation about, especially with Mark. He tried to scrunch up his face in frustration, hoping to mask the blush fighting his way on his cheeks. “Y-Yeah, it really is. I can't believe it,” Jack finished, mouth open at just how fucking pathetic that statement was. He might as well have just yelled to the entire class ‘Hey, I'm gay, and I don't want to be talking about this!’

Apparently, Mark wasn’t as oblivious to things as Jack previously thought, because his face switched from annoyed to concern in an instant, his arms dropping to his sides. Jack mentally facepalmed. Great. Now he was suspicious.

“Jack…? Are you sure you're alright?” Mark whispered, as if not to upset him.

Jack perked up instantly, a broad smile plastered on his face. “Yeah, I'm great! Just thinkin’ ‘bout stuff,” Jack said, a little too loud for even Professor Trelawney’s liking.

“Seán, is something the matter?” Professor Trelawney said, glancing up from her ‘all powerful crystal ball’ to stare in Jack’s direction.

Jack frowned, his eyebrows knitting together at his real name. “Nothing’s wrong, Professor,” he grumbled, not looking her in the eye.

“I sense you're not truthful, Seán.” She said in that voice that sounded like she’d inhaled way too much air.

Jack huffed, squirming in his seat, “Can yeh please stop callin’ me that?” he hissed, dissatisfied that no matter how many times he actually told her that he hated his real name, she would not cease.

“None of that now, Seán, now if you please, I was just demonstrating how to use your third eye to gaze into your crystal ball. Perhaps you’d like to volunteer?”

Jack’s eyes widened before his face scrunched into another frown. He did not want to get up there with her now. He barely wanted to get up before, not that he had been paying much attention.

“Come now Seán,” she said, gesturing to her crystal ball, its shine pulsating strangely.

Rolling his eyes and avoiding Mark’s concerned gaze, he stood up slowly and made his way towards the professor’s centre table. Timidly, he sat down in the chair next to her. He hated being singled out like this.

“Just.. get it over with…” He sighed, avoiding the penetrating stare from his classmates.

The Professor quickly went to work, muttering incantations and waving her hands all magical-like. Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes at how ridiculous she was being.

This whole class is ridiculous.


But as the time went on, Jack felt himself grow anxious. What would the ball show about him? If anything at all?

Suddenly he felt very invaded, like Professor Trelawney was in his personal space, and he wanted her out.

The Professor clicked her tongue, “Seán, darling, you need to relax. You’re building a psychological barrier.”

Jack felt his temper rise, but he quickly calmed himself. He did not need to be known as ‘the boy who flipped his shit over a fortune’.

He sighed, willing to shoulders to relax. It didn’t stop his knee from bouncing, though.

Trelawney is a fake, Trelawney is a fake.

The thought calmed him; everyone knew Trelawney wasn’t playing with a full deck of cards. Hell, if she weren't in Hogwarts, she'd probably be down in St. Mungo’s being medicated every other hour.

“Ahh, yes. I see it now,” she murmured, all prophet-like “you're having some issues at home…”

Jack almost burst out laughing with relief, he was right. Trelawney was a total fraud.

Somewhat at least.

“Wait… no… You have some inner turmoil.” Trelawney corrected, now that Jack’s defences were down, she could see clearer.

Jack froze, and with his laugh toning down to a nervous chuckle his eyes snaked down to Trelawney’s. He slowly shook his head at her.

“Pretty recent, too... “ she continued, paying no mind to him.

“Professor, don’t…” he mouthed at her, trying to stop her from saying any more.

“My world, dear boy, did something happen today?” Trelawney looked at him, still unaware of his actions.

“Professor-” his eyes drifted over to Mark, and Jack could almost hear the gears turning in his head, desperately trying to figure out what Jack was hiding from him. One more wrong word and it would be over.

“You seem to be questioning your entire being, Seán, are you sure that you're alrigh-” she didn't get a chance to finish, because Jack was on his feet, furious at being ignored for so long and nearly knocking over the whole table.

“That's enough,” he growled through gritted teeth, his shoulders tensed.

He glanced around the class, soaking in their fearful looks. This was not the outgoing, careless and laid back Jack everyone knew. Sure, Jack had shouted at teachers before and usually ended up with a detention, but it had always been for a joke, or because he had been in a bad mood. It had never been to protect himself like this.

Seeing the shock around the room, he instantly felt his anger melt away. Especially when he looked at Mark, who looked like someone just kicked his puppy. Then came the whispers, the guesses and rumours at what could be the cause of this like hissing snakes waiting for a bite. The entire day he had been trying to tell Mark there was nothing wrong, yet in the front of the whole class, he had just proved there must be. He had been unable to keep his cool and laugh it off, and this he found, was the price.

“I-I’m sorry... “ Jack stuttered out, his hands covering his face. Without thinking, Jack turned his back on the Professor and sprinted out the door. The class had overwhelmed him, and it wasn’t long before he felt his eyes tearing up for the second time that day.

For fuck’s sake.

Wandering without much thought, Jack found himself amble into Gryffindor’s bedchambers and collapsed into his bed. The entire day was just so... exhausting, and he’d had enough. He sighed into his pillow, finally relaxing. There was nobody around to condemn him here.

The warm, comforting blankets eventually drew him in, and he teetered on the edge of sleep for what felt like an eternity, the adrenaline no longer flooding through his veins.

At least before Mark burst in.

“Jack? Are you in here?” He called, his worried eyes scanning the beds. He let out a sigh of relief when they landed on a green floof of hair in his neighbouring bed.

“Hmmm?” Jack slowly lifted his head to see who the intruder was, head heavy with the idea of sleep.

“Oh, I'ss you,” he mumbled, allowing his face to flop back into the pillow with defeat. “...please go away,” he spoke into the squishy object, his voice muffling around it.

Either Mark didn't hear him, or he chose to ignore his weak plea, because the next thing he knew, Mark was sat beside him, with a hand brushing away his messy hair. It revealed bright blue eyes, which by now were swollen and red.

“...Jack? You’ve been crying?” Mark asked, his voice filled with concern. “You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong, man; you’ve been acting weird even before Umbridge landed you with that detention,”

Jack streaked a hand over his eyes, his fingers now damp. “What does it fuckin’ look like, Mark? Didn’t yeh hear me when I asked ya to piss off?” he spat, sneaking further into the covers. He chose to ignore the second question, not daring to even address it.

At that, Jack felt the bed rise slightly as Mark stood up. Mark’s absence of any reply told him that he might have gone a bit too far.

“Look, m’sorry. I’m not in the mood an’ Trelawney pushed me too far. I’ll tell you what’s wrong, but… but not now. I just can’t. I need to think fer a bit; I’m not goin’ to class,” Jack mumbled, hoping Mark wouldn’t be offended.

“It’s okay, we all go through shit sometimes. I’ll leave you be, sorry for... being a bit pushy. I’ll tell Professor McGonagall you’re ill, she’ll understand,” Mark said. Jack had always admired how patient Mark was with him, even when he was a little shit. He always just seemed to understand.

With a couple more sniffs, Jack pulled the covers over his head and listened to Mark’s soft footsteps as he walked towards the door.

“Thanks, Mark,” Jack mumbled, his voice small, like a child’s. It was pathetic. He was pathetic.

Jack closed his eyes, feeling the familiar pull of sleep draw him in as a predator draws in its prey. He wanted to fight against it, but he soon found that he had no fight left in him. With nothing left to do, he let himself drift off.

I'm going afk and won't be back til Thursday

:(


Chapter One


He never dreamed it would be like this.

Falling for someone was something Jack had always thought would feel obvious, like a fire burning through his heart with every glimpse. Perhaps a choir of angels would come down and sing him a song, or something.

Definitely not a stabbing pain of oh shit, that would knock the wind right out of him as Mark rambled nervously about something or other.

“Jack? You’re spacing out on me, man,” Mark laughed, slugging him in the shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, sorry, Mark,” Jack rubbed his arm where he’d been hit, motioning for Mark to continue.

“Well, as I was saying, maybe you could clear out of the dorm for a few hours tonight…?” Mark coughed jokingly, as if this wasn’t a normal conversation the two of them had almost weekly.


Oh.


There it was again. That feeling.


“I thought we were going to Hogsmeade tonight? I asked you like, what, last week?” Jack said, his exasperation clear on his face.

Mark sucked in a breath, “Oh, right. I-I forgot, Sorry, classes are hell and I’ve just found it hard keeping up,” he chuckled nervously.

But you can keep up with 10 different girls every month?


Jack’s eyes widened at the thought, what was he doing?

“I-I thought the reason we were going out in the first place was to chill out anyway?” Jack said, his feigned annoyance already disapparating into disappointment as the words seem to sit in the saturated room. By the awkward silence that followed it, he might as well have complained to himself.

“I can cancel if you’d like, you know, it’s not that important,” Mark offered, rubbing his shoulder.

“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine,” Jack assured, giving a forced smile in his direction, attempting to ignore the pangs of jealousy in his stomach.

“I’m sorry Jack, really. I promise we’ll go tomorrow or sometime this weekend, how does that sound?”


Jack felt his face grow hot, and he squirmed uncomfortably, “Y-Yeah, okay…” he whispered, fiddling with his tie, “...Who is she?” he muttered after a few seconds, the unsaid ‘this time?’ resting in the air between them. Jack had to resist the urge to chew his lip.


Why Mark of all people?


Mark flinched, possibly at the implication of him whoring around the school, but he didn’t address it. “It’s uhm, it’s Cho,” he said sheepishly, eyes darting away from Jack, with the face of a guilty man.

Jack puffed out his cheeks, any lingering ‘feelings’ attached to Cho were long gone by now, but it still didn’t feel right.

The girl he’d given up for Mark in his lovestruck confusion was going to be the next one fucking him.


Fantastic.


“Yeah, okay,” Jack croaked, nodding his head slowly. The beginning of a dull ache started pulsing through his temples.


Fuck.


Jack needed to get out, before his head exploded.


“Thanks Jack, I knew you’d understand,” Mark ruffled his hair playfully, seemingly pleased with the lack of confrontation about Cho.

Jack stood, blood sounding in his ears. “I’d best be off, then,” he said as cheerily as he could.


What have I done? 


“Wha-? You don’t have to go right now-” Mark interrupted, mirroring Jack’s standing position. Jack shook his head.

“Nah. I’ll let you get everything set up,” Jack pushed, the room starting to spin. He attempted to snake his way to the door, neglecting the conversation. Mark stopped him, a hand pulling him back.


He can’t see me like this.


“Um, Jack?” Mark asked, spinning him around slightly too fast. Trying to keep his balance, he heard, “You know, you never really did tell me why you guys broke up…”

Jack knew what that question was, it’s one he’s asked himself countless times during those restless nights. He also knew what the answer was, but he didn’t think either of them were ready to hear it out loud.


How did this happen?


“I don’t know man. I guess she was just a bit clingy or something,”

Jack hated lying, and knew that it was bad. He knew that most of the time the stupid lies like that caught up in the long run, but he couldn’t help it. Jack was barely sure how he felt himself, and at this point, it would be impossible to tell someone else. Let alone Mark.


Why didn’t I realise this sooner?


For now, it would have to be just a mere thought during those haunting late hours.

Mark relaxed some, a grin breaking out on his face. “What would you know about clingy, Jackaboy? You’ve only ever dated Cho,” he said, giving Jack a playful shove that had almost knocked him over.

Jack released a puff of air, clinging onto Mark’s robes to keep him upright. “Watch it!” he grumbled, the sudden movement sending another wave of pain across his forehead.

“Fuck, sorry Jack,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around the Irishman to help him stay upright.


I could have stopped it.


“It’s alright - jeez, aren’t you meant to be the clumsy one?” Jack said, a strained laugh caught in his throat. He released a breathy sigh at the contact, he’d always felt safe in Mark’s arms.


I’m too far gone now, though, aren’t I?


“I gotta go, Mark, I don’t want to be keeping you,” Jack said, brushing off Mark’s hold.

The disappointment on Mark’s face was clear, although he tried to hide it. “Are you sure about this, Jack? I’d already promised you something, I’m sure Cho would understand,” Mark offered, dramatically falling backwards on the bed. Jack could feel the heat rising in his cheeks when Mark’s shirt rode up some, exposing his navel. He quickly scolded himself, biting the inside of his cheek.

“...Nah, don’t worry about me, you doof. Have fun tonight,” Jack winked, just for good measure, and finally left the room.

“If you’re going to Hogsmeade, go get yourself a girlfriend! I can’t be the one having all the fun!” Mark called after Jack, just as the door was magically closed behind him.


Just as Jack collapsed to the floor, sobbing as silently as he could.


He was hopelessly in love with Mark, and it was impossible to deny it any longer.


Sleepless nights turned into drawn out days, and the dreary days soon became wearisome months. Whether it was Mark’s suspicion over Jack’s lack of an interest in day-to-day activities, or trying desperately with his teenage brain to not to imagine what Mark would look like naked, it had been a physical reincarnation of an inferno.


Eventually, Jack had enough. Too much sleep was lost, and Mark was starting to worry about his health. He had to tell him.


Even if it ruined everything.


Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm With You) 2
Sorry for any errors, I'm super busy today!

Here's another chapter, you guys' support for this fic is the best!

Love you guys

S xx
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Second part should be up here in about 2 hours?
I think that Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with You) will be updated every Wednesday, but that might change.

Prologue


It was too loud.

Trains rushed past, one after the other, each louder than the next. Each bursting wind was going straight to his increasing headache. It sounded too much like home. People were bustling around every corner, the morning rush hour causing everyone to push past each other aimlessly. His father was escorting him through the waves of bodies.

Jack clung to his father’s shirt, desperately trying not to get whisked away. Another train passed, and he closed his eyes.

All Jack knew was that he had to get to platform 9 ¾ and keep hold of his almost golden ticket, his only way out of the constant rumbling household he was forced to call home. His father’s iron grip on his right shoulder reminded him of what he could return home to, and the thought of hearing his parents arguing caused him to scrunch his eyes shut as he was guided through the crowds.

Clutching his ticket, he remembered the fear of his father asking him to come to the living room as someone wanted to talk to him. He didn’t recognise the frail looking woman in the lounge, but his mother beamed at her as if she was an angel. The gaze had helped him relax as the old lady told him of magic, wizards and witches. Of course, at first he hadn’t believed a word, but with a silvery image of a cat bouncing around the room, he soon became enthralled by the concept.

Unfortunately, just like everything Jack tried to do, his father had shut it down instantly. That argument had been one of the worst, with Jack hearing shattering glass from his room early in the morning. It took hours of reassurances from his siblings before he’d left his sheets that day.

In the end, his mother won out.

Though Jack was pretty sure his father only agreed because it would be one less mouth to feed.

“I should have let your mother take you,” his father grumbled, quiet enough that nobody but him would hear. Jack trembled, crumpling the piece of paper buried in his hands.

Jack’s biggest fear was that none of this was real or it was just some kind of scam. Jack had never been so excited for something before and the fact that maybe there was no such thing as Hogwarts or… or magic…

It was too much. It had to be real; it had to be. His mum had told him so.

“That lying, useless, cunt that you call your mother has no idea what she’s talking about!”

A train rushed past.

Jack screamed.

His father shoved.

His ticket slipped.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, boy?” His father hissed between clenched teeth, glancing around to make sure no one had spotted his impulsively hard shove on the small boy.

Jack stared at his father uselessly, like a deer caught in the headlights, his hand grasping around something that was no longer there.

His father obviously hadn’t seemed to notice the boy’s fumbling fingers and his panicked expression, looking at him before continuing to push him forwards.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” Jack hiccuped, glancing around hopelessly for a flash of gold stuck under someone’s shoe, or something.

“Hmph,” his father grunted, replacing the hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack was sure he was going to have a bruise, but that was the least of his worries right now.

“What platform was it, again?” his father asked, his tone neutral. It would have fooled any onlookers.

“It was, uhm, p-platform 9 ¾,” Jack muttered.

He couldn’t tell his father he’d lost the ticket.

Jack’s father snorted, a hard expression on his face.

His face fell.

It felt like forever before they eventually made it to the large gap between platform 9 and 10.

The platform he needed nowhere in sight. With deep breaths he tried not to panic, sliding his eyes to his father nervously.

A hand clapped down on his back, and Jack flinched, but he didn’t feel any pain. It was gentle, almost reassuring.

“Let’s go home, son,” his father said.

Jack nodded, not daring to argue. Maybe his father was right; maybe magic wasn’t real.

And if it was, why would it choose him, of all people?

“Seán McLoughlin?”

The sound of his name made him turn around instantly, an involuntary movement away from his father’s grip.

It was an accent that was most certainly not Irish, though Jack couldn’t pinpoint where it was from.

“Is anyone here named Seán McLoughlin? You’ve lost your ticket,” the voice called, this time loud enough for his father to hear.

“Seán? You lost your card?” his father growled, his voice dangerously low.

Jack bit his lip; it was a warning. A choice to go home, or a decision to defy his father.

“Seán McLoughlin? Hello sir, do you know a Seán McLoughlin? This is an important trip!” the voice was getting closer, and louder.

“Seán....”, his father warned, gripping his arm.

Jack closed his eyes, ripping himself away. He couldn’t live like this.

“Seán-”, his father’s voice was drowned out by the crowd he was darting through.

“Seán McLoughlin! Seán- Woah! Are you okay?”

Slightly shocked, Jack looked up to see that he had crashed into a boy round about his age. With a head of jet black hair and warm brown eyes, Jack sighed at the thought of his scruffy jacket and puffy eyes in comparison.

“Um, yeah I'm okay, sorry for bumping into you,” he mumbled in reply, making sure not to be too loud with his father prowling nearby.

“Do you know Seán McLoughlin? He’s lost his ticket,” the boy asked, a genuinely worried look on his face.

“Uhm… that would be me. Do you know where the platform is?” Jack asked timidly, turning his gaze away from the boy in favour of looking worriedly for his father.

“Oh! That’s great! Hi, Seán I’m Mark, here’s your ticket. I’ll take you to the platform if you don’t know where it is, it’s kind of hard to find the first time isn’t it? I’m just lucky my brother’s in the third year so we’ve been through this whole ordeal already,” Mark said, keeping the conversation rolling after spotting Jack’s red eyes and shaky hands.

Grabbing the ticket, this time Seán made sure to hold it with two hands, gripping tightly. He couldn’t bare to lose it again.

“Seán!”

Jack’s heart dropped to his stomach. He knew that voice. He also knew what came after it.

“Seán what do you think you’re doing talking to strangers? I swear to God kid, when we get back-”

“Hi dad, this is Mark, he found my ticket,” Jack replied, surprisingly calm for how pale he’d become.

Jack’s father sucked in a breath, his cheeks tinted an odd shade of purple. He was holding onto his temper by a thread.

“We’re leaving. Now.” his father growled, snatching Jack’s arm into his grip before he could even flinch.

“Excuse me! Sir, stop dragging him!! He really needs to catch this train!”

“And why would I listen to a child about what’s right for my son?” His father hissed viciously.

Jack’s dad was getting louder, seemingly safe from the prying eyes of others who rushed around without a care.

“This ‘child’ can call authorities if that grip of yours has left a hint of a mark on his arm,” Mark stated simply, motioning to where Jack was almost hoisted off the ground by just his forearm, his warm eyes dissolved into cold and threatening ones.

In an instant, Jack’s arm was free, and he was left rubbing the spot of contact completely appalled. This stranger had just said what he’d wanted to say to his father for the past three years. He couldn’t help but slide a small smile in thanks, making sure his father hadn’t seen it.

His father was left speechless as well, staring at this 11-12-year-old kid like he had ten heads. “Fine, then,” he muttered, shoving Jack in Mark’s general direction, which elicits a small squeal from the smaller boy, clinging to Mark to regain his balance.

Taking it a step further, Mark dared to call him back, “Excuse me, Sir! Isn’t there something you’d like to say to your son?”

If looks could kill, Mark would’ve been dead a hundred times over, but…

Jack’s father slid his icy-cold stare towards his trembling son and took a deep breath.

“Have a good trip,” He spat, heaving the trunk towards Jack.

Brushing off the shivers down his spine, Jack just about managed to catch the flying chest. Stumbling slightly, a stable hand on his shoulder shocked him until he turned to see Mark’s apologetic expression.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s okay,” Jack finished for him, fiddling with the trunk’s clasps as an excuse for the lack of eye contact.

Mark flushed, slowly removing his hand, “Still. C’mon, the platform’s this way,”

Jack released a breath he didn’t know he was holding at the loss of contact and excitement flooded through his veins.

He was finally going to be free.

Mark skillfully weaved through the crowd, like he’s done this hundreds of times before, and Jack followed behind.

Not as gracefully, of course, but the path Mark created offered some assistance and more comfort than his father had built.

“Oh, Mark! You’re back! Did you find that boy who lost his ticket?” A woman asked, turning towards Mark.

“Yeah, I did. Mom, this is Seán. Seán, this is… well, my mom,” he giggled, gesturing to the woman in front of him.

“Oh, look at you! Aren’t you just precious?” Mark’s mother exclaimed, walking towards him.

Jack couldn’t help but step back instinctively from the oncoming gesture, but realised his actions before standing straight and taking a deep breath.

“Thanks,” he sighed, unsure of how to respond. In seeing his timidity, Mark’s mother slowed and stopped thoughtfully.

She turned back to Mark, her eyebrows raised.

Mark shook his head, signalling that this was the wrong time.

“So ah… Thomas is already on the platform, and I suggest you boys hurry if you want to make it on time. The Hogwarts Express doesn’t take well to tardy wizards, you know,” Mark’s mother said, turning towards Jack, “Are your parents here?”

Jack winced, and Mark cut in, “Nah, his father was in a hurry. You know muggle homes, mom, always having to do things without magic,” he emphasised ‘magic’ with finger quotes, and Jack suppressed a giggle.

His mother nodded, “True. You’d really best be off, though. The train leaves in 15 minutes.”

“Ah, darn. C’mon Seán, the platform’s this way,” Mark said, motioning for Jack to follow him.

“Language, Mark!” his mother scolded half-heartedly.

“Sorry, mom!” Mark shouted back, guiding Jack through the hoards of bodies.

It didn’t take long before Mark stopped abruptly, looking around and announcing aloud, “We’re here!”

Jack glanced around, wondering where, exactly, ‘here’ was. Then he saw it, the platform signs.

Jack’s heart dropped to his stomach, eyeing between them fearfully.

Presented before him were platforms 9 and 10, and nothing in between.

It couldn’t be true.

“M-Mark? Wh-Where’s the platform?” Jack asked, his voice low.

“The platform? It’s right here- oh,” Mark looked around, hosting a feigned look of confusion.

Jack could have thrown up right then and there, but then Mark started laughing.

“I’m sorry, this is a little hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been here before. Ah, well, this probably seems really weird, but we have to run into the wall right there, and it takes us to a separate section of the station away from the muggles,”

Jack blinked twice, his stomach still in knots.

Then he walked away.

“Seán, wait! Where are you going?” Mark ran after him,

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” Jack stated quietly, marching ahead a few feet. His trunk rattled beside him loudly.

Mark caught up with him again, now out of breath. “First of all, language,” he stopped for a few seconds to take a few deep inhales, “second of all, what would I gain from fu-screwing with you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Seán McLoughlin I swear on my life that I will never, ever, mislead you in any way shape or form for as long as you may know me.”

Jack stopped, looking at the brown-eyed boy whom he met not fifteen minutes ago, and knew.

Very few could hold so much sincerity in their eyes and still conjure up a lie.

Jack sighed, shuffling his feet, “I… which wall was it again?” he mumbled sheepishly, biting his lip.

Mark lit up again, redirecting Jack back to the two platforms.

Jack saw his hand twitch, then back off. It was obvious Mark was a very touchy-feely person, something Jack hadn’t been for a few years now.

“Mark?”

“Mhmm?”

“I’m… not going to bite you, you know. Just give me a warning, please,” Jack hadn’t expected the last part to come out as such a plea, and he winced.

Mark nodded, “Okay,”

The walk back to the platforms was a little longer, the angry marching now disregarded.

Mark stopped, looking at the wall that was now in front of them. “This is it, Seán,” he chirped.

Jack eyed the wall up and down suspiciously, and poked it.

Solid.

Mark panicked, quickly providing an explanation, “Well, we don’t want muggles accidentally falling into the platform, y’know?  So… You have to run into it deliberately,”

Jack stared at the wall again, and the wall stared right back at him. “I… guess that makes sense?” he questioned, breaking the staring contest he was having with the wall.

Mark relaxed, relieved that Jack wasn’t walking off again, “So, who’s going first?”

Jack froze.

“First…?”

“Well, I mean, we’re not both going to fit unless we hold hands or something.”

 

“I don’t…”

“Well, then I’ll go-”

“No.”

“What do you mean?”

Jack puffed out his cheeks, “Maybe we should go together? I mean, I don’t really want to witness you disappearing into a wall, and I can’t close my eyes without someone to guide me so- If you didn’t mind, we could… go together,” he offered, ignoring every worst-case-scenario his brain was conjuring.

Please don’t leave me here on my own.

Mark shrugged, “Alright then, if that’s what you want,” he said, reaching out to grab Jack’s hand but paused to let Jack initiate himself.

Jack hesitantly accepted, moderately aware of how sweaty his palms were.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

No.

“I’m going to pull if you don’t move, okay?”

“Okay...”

What if there’s no exit?ITALICS

“Okay, I’m going,”

Jack shut his eyes tight, allowing himself to drag.

For a split second, he expected an impact, but there was none.

Just a bright light he could see even from beyond his eyelids.

And if he screamed, well, that was his business.

All of a sudden, it was over. The light was gone, and he found his voice.

“I-I’m alive?” Jack muttered, his voice hoarse from the screaming, and his body shaking enough to cause an earthquake.

“Of course you’re alive, Seán, woah- are you okay?” Mark asked when he turned towards Jack, who had gone pale.

Paler than usual, anyway.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, or I will be in a minute, anyway,” Jack said, steadying himself.

“Seán, I’m going to touch your arm, okay?” Mark stated, unlatching his hand from Jack’s and gripping his elbow to help him regain balance.

“I’m- I’m alright now, thanks,” Jack managed, and finally looked around the platform.

It was just as busy as the other platforms, if not busier, and it looked… almost cheerful.

Jack hesitantly took a glance upwards, and his heart soared in delight. There on the sign read “Platform 9 ¾” in big, bold letters. He’d finally made it.

“Oh shoot, the train’s leaving soon. C’mon,” Mark said, motioning for Jack to follow.

Jack followed absentmindedly, still taking in the sights all around him. Without thinking, he spoke, “Does everyone dress up like it’s Halloween or is it just this platform?”

Mark stopped suddenly, and then he started laughing. A full-bodied laughter that left him shaking and Jack wondering what the hell he just asked.

“Oh my G-God, Seán, you can’t just… say that, holy…” Mark took a few deep breaths to calm himself down and began walking again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“S-Sorry?” he whispered, tightening his jaw.

“No, it’s alright, it’s just… have you seen your uniform yet?” Mark asked, turning his head questioningly.

“No, Mum bought it-”

 

 

Mark was laughing again, clutching his stomach for support, “Ohmygod, Seán-”

Realisation dawned on him, “Mark, no-”

“Yes-”

“No!”

Mark doubled over, tears running down his face, and by now Jack was cackling too.

“Is it long and flowy like-”

“Very-”

“Holy shit, you’re serious-”

“Language-”

“I’m Irish-

“C’mon, we’ve gotta go, oh my God,” Mark said suddenly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, every once in a while giggling when they walked past someone who was dressed way over-the-top.

Finally, they made it to the main entrance, and they walked in together.

As the pair huddled onto the train, they battled through the crowds in the hope to get a free compartment, and Jack couldn’t help but wish that they might be able to have a room to themselves. He wasn’t sure if he could put much trust into another stranger so soon.

Luckily, the train did seem large enough, and as Jack shut the door behind him, he let his head fall against it and let out a massive sigh of pure relief.

He had made it. He wouldn’t have to be home tonight, or tomorrow, or until the summer.

At Hogwarts, he could start afresh.

A quiet giggle brought him back from his thoughts, and he looked towards Mark who was smiling at him as if he were the sun.

“Excited to be here then?” he asked, as Jack moved to the seat opposite him, his trunk neatly stored overhead.

“That’s one way you could say it,” Jack replied, leaning against his seat. Staring out the window, the platform outside was stocked full of parents waving emotionally to their children. The reminder that his father had left him even before he’d gotten to the platform wiped the smile off his face.

A sigh from Mark drew his attention away from the window, and he gave him a questioning look, silently asking if he was alright.

“Look Seán, I don’t have any business asking you about your father or your family or anything, but I want you to know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here. We can stick together if you want, since I don’t think I know anyone else in our year,” Mark said thoughtfully.

“I didn’t know magic existed until a month ago,” Jack replied, “so I don’t know anyone either. I’d be cool if we stuck together I suppose,”

“Thanks, Seán,” Mark smiled, and Jack couldn’t help but wonder at why he was thanking him. Without Mark, he wouldn’t even have made it to the Express, never mind got on the platform. Grinning back at him and shaking his head slightly in disbelief he heard the train’s loud whistle and the grinding wheels as they started to move.

Chuckling to himself, he looked up to Mark admirably.

“Call me Jack,”

 


Rules are Meant to be Broken (When I'm with You)

Hey I’m Absinthe
And this is the shit show I like to call

SEPTIPLIER FANFICTION

 enjoy or get lost

 

Hey I’m Soph

This is the fantabulous (yes a word) show I call

GAY AF VENTING FANFICTION

;)

 Cos I’m VERY VERY GAY ;)





Septiplier (obviously(not my fault the title is 10 miles long xD))


YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I AM

xAbsinthexx and I have been working on this for months! This is just the beginning my friends, this is AMAZING (their idea not mine obvs).

:))))))))))

LOVE YOU GUYS,

S :D x
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hey!

this lovely person decided to narrate one of my stories!!

story time from me will probably arrive in the summer ;)
(sorry that i promised it so long ago!)

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:iconchenaniaharticles:
ChenaniahARTicles Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fave!!! You're the best ;)
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:iconwriteasoph:
writeasoph Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks!
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:iconchenaniaharticles:
ChenaniahARTicles Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
You're welcome!
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:iconcuriouschibihunter:
CuriousChibiHunter Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2017
thanks for the fave :3
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:iconwriteasoph:
writeasoph Featured By Owner Jun 20, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
No problem!
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:iconliljoja:
Liljoja Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Aaa thank you for all the faves and the watch ♥ I appreciate it
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:iconwriteasoph:
writeasoph Featured By Owner Apr 24, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
hey no problem :)
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:iconundertaleandjse:
UndertaleandJSE Featured By Owner Feb 19, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
Hey, ik you have a writers block, but i just wanna ask, when's the next part of Nightmares coming out? (Sry if i sound annoying i'm SOOOO ashamed rn), do ya have a date? Don't worry if it's still a no, i'll wait as much as i can!
Have a great day\night! :)
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:iconsimplybitchbae:
SimplyBitchBae Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2017  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
HOI! X3
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:iconwriteasoph:
writeasoph Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
hoi
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