onlyholey | 9 Mischiefs Managed

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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.]

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[ 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. ]

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9 Mischiefs Managed - [video/action]

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(