onlyholey | 9 Mischiefs Managed

Entry tags:

9 Mischiefs Managed - [video/action]

[Hello City! You didn't think you would get through this curse without seeing these two trouble makers, did you? Fred and George Weasley are lounging in the town square, looking far too pleased with themselves.]

Alright, City? Now it has been explained to us that there is a bit of a tradition in this place about snogging under the mistletoe. Isn't that right, Fred?

[Fred just smiles something devious and playful and not even a little bit innocent.]

Indeed. And we've never been ones to deny the people such a grand opportunity.

So we would like to make a public announcement that we will be making ourselves available for anyone who wishes to participate.

Don't be shy, ladies. Who ever said a curse can't also be a blessing?

[They both give a wink - every kind of inviting - and the feed shuts off.]

[ooc: Come on ladies (and certain gentlemen...). We all know you've fantasized about snogging twins, right. This may be your chance. Also known as the Weasley Twins are trolls and will be taking full advantage of this curse. HAVE AT THEM.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're incorrigible.

[ And from this safe distance she maintains a very judgy stance, arms folding over her chest, lips pursed... ]

Do you honestly expect for women to fall for this?

[He laughs once, something more of a soft sigh, and shakes his head.]

It's not a trap, you know. It's simply an invitation.

And you would invite any female willing to present herself to you, simply for the fun of it? Honestly, Fred! [ Jealous. ]

It worked, didn't it? Got the most impossible gal in all of England out to see me.

[It's not implicitly stated, but the look in his eyes definitely says he was waiting for her to seek him out.]

[ Yeah she can say that. She's just... Confused and frustrated and flustered and what are all these feelings even doing? ]

I am not impossible. [ But she sort of knows she might be a little bit. ] .. Am I?

[Bollocks to the feelings. He is cursed, so the feelings don't matter. Not now. So he smiles just a bit, warmly, invitingly. All that Weasley charm in one go.]

C'mere.

You're serious.

[ But he's so attractive in this moment and what Hermione has failed to notice is that in their back and forth, she's slowly inched toward him and the mistletoe is now above her head, and drawing her to him without any hope of resistance. So she strides forward and... stands there in front of him rather... awkwardly, to be frank. ]

[The mistletoe is near impossible to miss, but for the time being, Fred fights back the drive of the curse. There's a point to be made. She's a bit higher than him from this sitting position, but he slips his left arm around her waist to pull her closer between his legs and reaches up with his right to brush his fingertips softly along her cheekbone to just behind her ear, buried in her hair. Slowly, and very gently, he pulls her closer until his lips are merely an inch or so away - close, so very close - and then he backs away with a sly sort of grin (that may be shaking ever so slightly from the force of the curse).]

All right. Maybe not entirely impossible.

[ Her breath immediately shortens, becoming shallow, and she feels her stomach tighten. All of this is accompanied by a rapid increase in the pace of her heart's beating, maybe a little of her mouth feeling much drier than it should... She leans down toward him slowly, eyelids heavy but gaze locked very closely on his face, as she is most certain he's about to kiss her - but then he doesn't. She lets out a heavy exhale, having held her breath completely at the last moment, and stares at him in complete awe. How? How is this her life? And why is it that she wants so badly for him to just finish what he'd started? ]

I -- erm... [ But her focus is deterred by the mistletoe now hovering over her and she looks up at it just in time to realize that she's likely going to be unable to resist its effects as she'd so hoped. She turns her attention back to him and swallows the ~~lump~~ rock in her throat, attempting to quell her complete and utter dishevelment at the moment. ]

Fred -... [ She reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear, taking as deep and heavy a breath as her poor little body will allow her right now. She feels herself with the intense compulsion to kiss him, and she knows it's the curse, but she tries her best to ease herself into it. To be better at eye level, she slowly sits herself down on the fountain's lip, right next to him, turned sideways so as to face him. Her tongue darts over her lips, still drier than they ought to be, as she reaches out for his hand. It's not his face, but she tugs on him gently anyhow. She needs him to face her for this to work. It's taking pretty much all of her willpower not to just grab him and snog him senseless right now... But worth it. ]

[Far too many things are happening where nothing is happening. Fred can tell Hermione's in a state at the moment, that this is going past the unspoken boundaries that set themselves between the two of them without either of them realising, and he is suddenly all too aware. Of the shaking and uncertainty, of her tongue running along her lips and the chill of the water at his back - but more than anything, he's overly aware of the warmth of her hand. The racing pulse in her wrists and the unintentional flush of her cheeks, but more than that, the warmth radiating from her - where he has none.

This isn't his life. It's not meant to be hers.

She held her breath in anticipation - Fred's just not breathing. He hasn't got to, doesn't need anything special to hide the sudden wave of thoughts and emotions washing over him despite his best efforts not to let them. He was waiting for her, for this, but it's also everything he was running away from. Snogging birds all over the City, sleeping with Dulcie however long ago - he's been running but he doesn't seem to be getting anywhere, because none of this is even real in the end, is it? How do you run away from a dream?

You don't, simply enough, and Fred can't deny what's in front of him anymore than he can stave off the curse at this point. He turns his hand over in hers to lift the back of it to his lips, kissing lightly, lingering for just a moment before setting them back down between them and looking up at her. One second, a brief moment where his eyes might betray his facade, before he manages that characteristic foxish smile.]

Incorrigible, hm?

[And he turns toward her fully, wasting no time in slipping his less-than-warn hand back into her hair firmly and moving in for the kiss - but he doesn't go directly for her lips. He stops to kiss the small, revealed part of her neck; just below her ear; her jawbone; her cheek; the corner of her mouth - and finally, with just one second of hesitation before shutting his eyes, he kisses her lips. Once, very lightly, then licks his lips and kisses her again, firmly and far more passionately than anyone one else all day - and he doesn't stop to wonder if it's merely the result of the curse or something more. It's just a dream; what does it matter?]

[ The thing Fred was wrong about was his lack of warmth. That was part of what started to draw her to him. Back at home, he was gone. Long, long gone. But here... He was alive. He was alive, and he had a pulse. He had heat, he had something still so lively sparking within him that she hadn't the slightest idea how he could feel numb. Though, she supposed that... she couldn't imagine what it was like to be in his shoes. She hadn't died.

But it is his life. The way she sees it, this is a chance at a new life for him. One mostly free of the toils and troubles of the previous.

And should he ever express that he finds all of this to just be a dream, she would adamantly protest. It is very real, as is he, as is she, as are their lives. But he hasn't, and in this moment, all she knows is what she can see written on his face and what she can feel in his touch. His mouth against her skin, the brief glint in his eyes... And she's empathetic enough to be able to read what little is there before it's gone again.

One day she really must call him on it. ]

Completely...

[ Hermione no more has time to prepare herself for the hand in her hair than she does for the sudden assault of kisses, her skin pebbling and goosebumps rising particularly as his lips find her neck, that spot underneath her ear, her jaw... She shivers a little, her breath shallow and somewhere she's completely unable to catch it. Before she's even aware, his lips have found hers, and even faster than she can reciprocate their gone again. The next, she's prepared, and she does not hesitate to loop her arms around his neck and return each ounce of pressure, each drop of passion and intensity that he offers. And her eyes close, and she pulls herself even closer to him, tighter against him, as she initiates a further deepening of the kiss.

Her head is in a rush, thoughts swimming at the speed of light in rapid succession, one right after the other. It's just a curse, this is Ron's brother, don't just think of him as Ron's brother! he's his own person, the fact that somewhere deep down she's wanted this for awhile, the rush of happiness she feels because of it, the twinge of pain knowing that at any given moment the City could send her away and she would never see him again, the desire to just keep kissing him and push away all other worries... There's more, so much more, but to realize it all... it would shatter everything that is the moment they're in.

And the moment they're in is perfect. ]

[But isn't that precisely why it's more a dream than anything else? The warmth of her flushed against him, their lips moving together, and somewhere in the back of his head, that feeling of almost being alive again - but he's not. His heart doesn't beat, his breath doesn't catch, and his dreams? His dreams are mostly spent remembering flashes of light, a half-hearted joke and a sudden explosion before he's lying awake in a distantly familiar bed in a distantly familiar cabin next to a brother that's months older than he ought to be. Months older than Fred will ever be.

Because one day, the dream will end and they will all leave this place to grow up and become something Fred is not. Real and whole, but above all else, alive. He sees it every day, hears it in every laugh, feels it in every brush of her skin against his and this is perfect in every meaning of the word, but it's not quite real, not really.

He is Ron's brother, he is dead, and there is no train waiting to bring him back to England. This is wrong, all wrong, and if he hadn't such a penchant for trouble, the smarter bit of him would recognise that much. Instead, he just kisses her, pours his everything into it as though it's the last act of a desperate man - but Fred isn't desperate. Not like he was at the beginning, doing everything to fool himself into believing this isn't The End. He knows it is. Will be, some day.

They all have to grow up some day, but Fred never will. He already has.

He pulls back from her with a harsh exhale (he doesn't need it, why does he keep doing it?) and turns away to run both hands through his hair. He's fairly certain he's just signed his own death, re-death, as it were, since he's bound to fall into some sort of trap near the end of this. It's everything he wants, but everything he's not supposed to have, which means it's only going to break him. More than it already has. So he throws on a sly sort of grin and glances over to her.]

Bloody Hell. Some curse, eh?

[It's just a curse. Nothing more than some fucking magical compulsion, a stupid plant with a stupid tradition, and certainly not his own foolish, hidden desires. The exhilaration caught in his throat, the sense of elation and light-headedness - they're all just after affects of the curse. He can't let it be anything more than that.]

[ Maybe it's just Hermione and the way she's always viewed Fred, being warm and full of life, that turns her sensors off to the fact that he lacks heat and a pulse, that he lacks breath. Maybe it's the blinders caused by whatever these feelings for him are that have planted themselves within her. But she doesn't feel an animated corpse when she kisses him. She just feels a person. True, his lips hold no heat, but that doesn't matter. She feels heat. Even if it's something that comes from within herself, she feels it.

Hermione doesn't ever want to leave this moment. She knows now that it isn't just the curse. She knows it's her. Very, very much her. It just took the curse to push her to this point. She's still conflicted, still has no idea how to handle all of this, but all she knows right now is... well. Right now.

Right now with his body so close to hers, his lips against hers, the passion behind his movements. Right now with each of those movements being enthusiastically reciprocated by herself. Right now when --

When he pulls back. When he won't look at her directly for a moment. When he brushes it off and immediately dives into the familiarity of his own levity. When she feels her emotions well up and casts her glance down toward her lap. Right now when all it was to him was the curse. ]

That's all, then. Just the curse. [ They're questions, without the proper inflection. She's trying not to fly off the handle. She doesn't even know what this means - what this could mean - for either of them... For their friends, family... If Ron were to come back -

But a part of her is still very vulnerable and wants - needs - to know if that's all this really was to him. ]

It felt like -- ... Like something much -- much more powerful than a simple curse.

[Merlin, you can't -- she can't bloody do that -- sit there looking so damn hurt, and sincere, and longing for something he can't give her. Fuck all, he can't even give it to himself. Selfish to the core, brash and straight forward with no filter and absolutely no sense of restraint save for but this one thing, this one seemingly simple thing. Because it's not simple. It's so much more than just a mutual fascination, or the homey feeling he gets when they're with Luca, or the easy back and forth between them that fell in place without them even trying. It's more than that.

It's the adrenaline rush after a good flying lesson. It's the triumph of Luca spelling a word all on his own. It's the bright moment when they're bickering about nothing and laughing about everything and Fred thinks he'd quite like to stay like that forever -- only for those brief bouts of excitement and glee to fade away and leave them here, sitting right next to each other but worlds apart. Lifetimes apart, because Fred is still convinced this isn't his life.

Because Ronald is his little brother and he'd either have to be blind or daft not to know of the bond that's between them. Because Hermione is his friend, his little sister in all the years he's watched over the three little troublemakers. Because he is dead, and no matter what he does or says or feels, nothing will change that, any of that, and they will always end up back here.]

Hermione, I--.

['I,' what? 'I'm sorry?' 'I'm a bloody idiot?' What could he possibly say? It'd be so easy not to say anything at all, to just walk away now, or better yet, to follow his usual tendencies and bugger the consequences, just go after what he wants like a bullet on a path and Merlin be with anyone that happens to get in the way. But for once, for quite possibly the first time, Fred doesn't just jump in head first without a second of forethought. For once, he is considering the consequences, and what admitting that the kiss was so much more than just the draw of the curse would do to the both of them.

He's thinking ahead, and inwardly cursing himself for it - he knows he'll be thanking himself later, but Hell if he'll be glad for it.

There's a huff that turns into a humourless sort of laugh as he shakes his head. So bloody ridiculous, the lot of it, and isn't this why he's never bothered with relationships to begin with? He turns to her again, a playful smile on his lips (it's false, so bloody false but he's had years to perfect it).]

I don't know what else it could be, love. You aren't exactly my first today.

[ It's so very unfair.

These are things she desires. Not just because she wants them, but because in her heart, she needs them. She feels so comfortable around him... When they're with Luca, when he's taking her flying... When they toss banter back and forth. It's different than it ever was with Ron. She and Ron had years, but... Something about Fred is just more understanding of her without allowing her to be haughty about it. It's just ... Smoother. It doesn't quite hurt so much.

And then he pulls something like this. It really wasn't more to him? More than just the curse's fault? But that can't be. She could feel the way he leaned into her. She felt that. That wasn't just her imagination. He got just as into it as she did. But his words say another thing, as does his bravado... And what's a girl to do?

Protest?

No. No, she'll save protesting for later. For now, she's just going to look at him and stop trying to keep herself from crying. She doesn't bawl, not even close, but her eyes well up with tears and she looks absolutely crushed. Dejected. ]

... If that's how you see it, then.

[ Perhaps she should go find someone else to kiss, as well. Perhaps that would show him. She stands, her back to him, to hide how much this hurts her. Because she was almost completely certain he felt -- ... At least somewhat the same as she does. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

9 Mischiefs Managed - [video/action]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

http://ihearticons.livejournal.com/8086042.html ||| you need this post.

ffff why is it so difficult to upload icons from my phoooone

bc of reasons 8(

8(

i am going to burst into tears before the end of this thread.

LMFAO y e p idek what my heart is doing rn I just have all the sads.

brb drinking myself happy againnnn to fight the paaaaaain 8(