↪ 229 / ?? of lee hyori

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@hdxviolet
↪ 229 / ?? of lee hyori
confined ↠ siwon & violet
on the stroke of twelve, ( that he believed. ) siren’s spell will be broken & her song will long quieten; outlaw belle will take her leave, & duty prince will regain his regime. but reversal role played a twist in their tale— instead of waking him up, her kiss had him falling to a trance. rather than breaking one, her lips put him under her own spell. she danced in his ball to flee out of his hands, dropping a glass slipper of insanity trails in her wake. she may run. she may hide. didn’t he say he would not let her out of his sight?
his ship is sturdy— ready to sail, this time he’s well prepared. relentless sailor— down he’ll cast his net. to seek only you siren, the one singing in his head.
now she’s caught. ( cornered in metal cage ) and authoritative he still remained, for all that— this wasn’t only his domain, but their’s; their castle, their kingdom, surely he would not be quick to give up his realm. —- queen of outlaw & hero of justice, they clashed once and they would again. for the few words she uttered, like a wave of boasting haughtiness, washing him and the steps he has yet to take. now head slightly tilt, eyes slightly squint, one lesson he learned: be one step ahead— or she’ll be quick to have the upper hand.
"do you?" one second switch on —- swift flick of one finger —- the next; switch off & pacing elevator halted to a stop, "take the time to remember…" for now there was no escape. he plays timekeeper in the world of their game, where she’s main priority and duty comes next. but foolish he is to attempt and beat the queen at her own game, for every stride that he takes, and the closer he gets, crossing lines in small of a space, she may light him on flames — playing with fire ! he is very well aware.
but it’s okay—- let it burn.
in the way his knuckles felt cold pressed against the wall of their cage—- but cold was no cold with her heat so near— close enough for lavish fabric to brush his skin, close enough for him to scent aromatic spice & caffeine, close enough for him to faintly speak, faintly lean in; “policeman admirer, rings a bell? not such a good idea after all i’d say.” not quite close to steal back his kiss, not quite close to share a reminder of the mark she left on him. but holy was his breath, to purify her vices and sinful schemes, & her rising hell is only for him.
and he is breathtaking when wrecked; absolutely compelling when falling victim to her siren screech.
beautiful when he is nothing but ruins. beautiful when he is hers.
hers for she had scorched him wholly --- scarred him with a taunting kiss --- turned him into a precious gem cuffed around her fragile wrists. hers for her kingdom is strategically built in his realm & the crown belongs to two; yet she will not share the ruby thrones ! not with blinding justice --- not when the queen is dipped with acidic pride and consuming greed. his alluring musk and sturdy ship may induce temptation ( what a handsome king he would make ), but this is not a fairytale, and happily ever after is only a lie fed to romantic hearts.
outlaw queen is much smarter than that. much, much smarter. yet when the elevator jerked to a sudden stop ( launching her lithe frame into the metal walls ), she became dumbfounded. his move made; medusa eyes narrowed. he checked --- but checkmate will belong to her. screeching mermaid may be trapped in his fisherman net, and her fins may wiggle more when confined between his arms, but he is approaching her hellfire. let the flames of her inferno burn him. let the heat of her sins poison him. come closer sailor. come closer and closer and closer --- inch by inch, her siren melody will only grow louder.
louder. louder. wider. wider. wider her cheshire cat grin grew.
"doesn't ring a bell."
devilish words breathed out --- holiness breathed in. the outline of divine lips mocked; her awareness of his movements hidden behind the storm brewing in her eyes. "i don't know any policeman admirers. but i do know a policeman that is stalking me." scarlet painted nails flicked and traced the small buttons on his shirt as she brushed a leg against his. small movements made to push the blinding beacon to the brink of his morality. crashing her sin filled waves against his boundaries.
sailor wants to play. siren will obey...
...will play as she grazed her lips against his manly jaw.
"maybe i need a reminder."
【 ✉ ➜ violet 】you do not deserve the so called 'super hard & ultra burnt' cookies with that antic, and you surely do not deserve the firefighters! 【 ✉ ➜ violet 】such a shame I will only arrive after you since you refuse to pick me up, huh?
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】now, now. don’t be mean to your unnie or else she is going to change all the locks when she gets home.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】where are you anyways?
【 ✉ ➜ violet 】 very funny, unnie, hilarious even! 【 ✉ ➜ violet 】no cookies for you when you arrive tonight, at all.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】what a tragedy.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】what will i do without your super hard & super burnt cookies? although, i must admit, i will miss the sight of firefighters coming in and out of the house upon arrival.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】on second thought — proceed with your baking.
【 ✉ ➜ violet 】i think it's time for us to make that tracker app you downloaded on my phone useful, unnie. 【 ✉ ➜ violet 】 it means that i might or might not be lost in a completely different part of the city.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】call the cops.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】i’m sure one of them will be nice enough to escort a little girl home.
【 ✉ ➜ hinara 】just remember to say no to candy offered from guys in a white van.
confined ↠ siwon & violet
dreams of a siren haunting a man in his sleep, graceful and sinuous in her movements, such a figure with slinky manners.— get her out of your mind; lost. locked. hidden from your sight, but those dreams— no no, refer them as nightmares, where he was the lost one, chasing silhouettes singing his name, ( chasing cars rolling tint windows at the sight of his approaching steps ) where he was the one locked in the darkness with vixen eyes piercing daggers in his chest ( locked outside a door she slammed in his face ). but a dream wasn’t a dream. a dream wasn’t a dream. she was really there, a few storeys away. reach out. but then she’s gone again.
appear & disappear, queen playing a game of hide & seek, don’t avoid him your highness, he has his eyes on your figure— & your image engraved in his head,
today would be another chase, today when morning sun rays illuminate his face, teasing & taunting, whispering; duty’s calling, you’re being late. one step out of the warmth of a bed, one step into the cold of a shower where water shed, droplets reminding; duty’s calling, you’re being late. forget breakfast, set tie to a neck, boast of lavender scent, neatly dressed man, now ready for surprises stealthy lying in the hallway of his tall building.
better hurry up officer, duty’s calling, you’re being late. metal doors are closing, elevator on the verge of escaping— watch rushed footsteps of a man being late, how he managed to stop it with a hand being set in such thin of a space, now metal doors are opening, and siren revealed herself, note graceful glory, from fancy heels to expensive shades, oh the red on her lips— danger it yelled, do not step into a small place with the queen again—
but he was already late, ( duty you said? ) locked within a metal box filled by her scent, ( say now siren, how would you escape? )
had she been like cinderella? running and running and hiding in shadowed corners far, far away from the prince. like darling ariel when she was so ashamed of her fin --- would it be considered hiding when : beautifully crafted door slammed in his face ( not once, not twice, but thrice ). tinted windows rolled up with rapidness as cruel siren watch the sailor froze in his steps. knocks and rings and tempting voice interrupted the serenity of beloved home. the vision of him haunts her when the sun shines; stays with her when the moon is high. how dare he occupy a space in the same building --- who does he think he is to live only a few floors below her?
a game is but a game, but how unfair you play ! for how can she stay tame when below her you lay? no escape ! no escape ! mayday ! mayday !
tidal waves unease --- monotonous routines begin again. siren awoken by the golden rays of the sun. little outlaw forced out of warm cocoon by the blasting alarms ( ring, ring, ring ). then heated shower. then the routines of building alluring facade ( a hint of light foundation, eyeliner that enhances vixen eyes, mascara, and scarlet lips painted ). then expensive clothing draped over fragile frame --- wrapped around her silhouette like a second skin. next comes the aroma of blissful coffee; caffeine shot through nerves.
not late. she was not late. but siren should leave now.
leave. move. walk straight into the fisherman's net. for when the metal doors open, it showed sailor's handsome face. for when the metal doors slammed close, it trapped him in with her. the siren & the sailor --- enclosed in a small area with no escape. and how wonderfully delicious he smells ! with mint lingering in his breath & lavender soaked in his clothing. morning has done him well. yes, morning has done him well. and now :
vicious mermaid caught; dangled helplessly by her fin with no possible escape ---
time to play a game.
"do i know you?"
Black and purple
p u r p l e ➜ 10 facts about my muse’s room.
will be answered in another message.
b l a c k ➜ 1 fact about the person my muse likes.
such beautifully flawless skin free of blemishes, and smooth like ivory. such dark eyebrows arched above magnificently colored hues. such pretty lips made for kissing & tempting. exquisite is the term to describe the person violet likes. exquisitely breathtaking —- how her caged heart would pound so rapidly whenever red lips would curve into a smile through the reflection of the mirror. oh? yes. violet loves herself.
& possibly a certain someone else. but that is saved for another message as well.
Send me a color
Purple: 10 facts about my muse’s room. Blue: 9 facts about my muse’s family. Green: 8 facts about my muse’s body Yellow: 7 facts about my muse’s childhood Orange: 6 facts about my muse’s home town. Red: 5 facts about my muse’s bestfriend(s). Pink: 4 facts about my muse’s parents. White: 3 facts about my muse’s personality. Grey: 2 facts about my muse’s favourite things Black: 1 fact about the person my muse likes.
flight attendant ,
{ ` eyes traveled as his suitcase followed. gate 238: seoul to london. alone to friends and family. after months of living in an isolated area for over six months, the toll of loneliness dragged his feet to the airport. bags packed, passport checked, flight still unattended. after boarding the plane to which he thought was a passage to freedom, to love, to adventure, and most importantly to memories, he sat down in his seat and rested his crown against the window. the view seemed to close but so far away. workers in their bright neon colored guided the airplane to it’s track, city buildings turned it’s bright lights on maximum and his eyes slowly began to drift. slumber and pain. but before he could sleep, a voice was heard. ah— it was her. his favorite flight attendant. offering a cup of iced water, he nodded, slightly smirked and lifted his head off the window. “late night?” she asked. he nodded and sipped his refreshment. “aroki business meetings..nice shirt. where’d you get it?” jinyoung asked with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. }
"violet, is everything ready?" "just about. i'm almost done." "the passengers are boarding now."
◤twelve hours and fifteen minutes. it takes twelve hours and fifteen minutes to fly from seoul to london --- twelve long and painful hours catering to snobby first class passengers with too much money in their pockets & too little patience. with their overly expensive taste & right now mentality --- twelve hours of serving; twelve hours of payment. twelve hours of falling in love with the changing sky. now : smile prettily. walk straight. let docility take hold. grab the bags. grab the drinks. serve, serve. iced water here. iced water there. small talk made. she laughed as he laughed. she smiled when she smiled. the monotonous routine of beautiful flight attendants --- only finding solace when sleep takes prisoners. only finding brief peaceful moments when interacting with a little familiar boy sitting in familiar spot. a boyish face she sees too often, but not often enough. as a greeting, she would ask : 'late night?' then she would take his answer with a fitting smile & answer his question with a sarcastic response.◢ "my favorite shop --- korean airline storage room." ◤pretty hand waved mindlessly.◢ "how long are you staying in england this time?"
unsettlement ✈ soohyun & violet
hollowed heart pounded slowly underneath cages --- slow, slow, slow in the midst of morning fog and sleepy sun. slow without the taste of caffeine on her tongue. slow with creaking bones and hazy mind. she has always been fatigue after a flight ( korea to japan. japan to korea. four hours total ) filled with demanding customers and rowdy children. short flights, she long concluded, are more troublesome than longer ones. where people are more demanding and impatient; too short of a flight to drift off into quiet slumber & too long of a flight to remain understanding. thus is the cruelty of customers. thus is the reason for tired siren's dire need for a warm cup of coffee.
'one large cup of coffee. two extra shots. two packs of sugar.' 'any cream or milk, miss? it will be strong without it.' 'the stronger the better.' 'are you sure?' '...' 'y-yes, miss, coming right up.'
there she stood ---
a beauty queen emitting strength and coldness; a little darling doll with fading beauty taking over the counter as she impatiently awaited the arrival of her order. sleep deprivation lined the bottom of sharp eyes ( dark, dark underneath certain lighting. in certain angles ) & for goodness sakes, she just want her little cup of caffeine ! one minutes. two minutes. three...four...five...about freaking time. slender fingers curled around the heated coffee. slender figure turned. annoyed queen walked off, leaving behind dashes of dignity and silent rage.
the door yelped when she opened it. wait --- the man yelped when she ran into him.
the man ! the man ! ( he is a man now )
oddly defined man with sturdy eyes. eyes in which she had not peered into for six long years. eyes that trembled her soul. eyes that used to stare at her with unspoken affection and desire. eyes that she had abandoned.
"it has been a while."
genesis ✈ siwon & violet
take her all in; from her crimson lips to her beautiful skin, & her delicated features, those tainted with flaming danger, how she delights in the presence of his anger. when the sensation of her ever so light kiss engraved itself in his mind and the sudden longing took him aback. her caustic remarks that bit him like hungry sharks, how it left him with never ending tirades hanging from his mouth. if he was the whiskey then sure she was wine, bloody red wine— no, no, she was a s p a r k l i n g wine, tasting like champagne, classic of a kind, somewhat luxurious in his mind.
get your head in the case, in the name of law!
too late for that now, too late as he was washed away by her waves, too late as she already caught him with her melodic patterns. unwillingly tempted so deep into her game,— but she was a player too, & he made sure to drag her down as well.
two carry those desires inside them, that no one else can see— they hold them down like anchors, they drown them out at s e a.
“'we're not holding an entertainment show,” eyes narrowed & brows sunk low, “off with that arrogance,”— what a greedy man, he wanted her whole, chained in his shackles all for his own, no one will come through that door.
her provocation that could make these stone walls blush, nerve his heart & temper to a furious rush. the things you do to him siren, how you play with his head— this was his station, the ship that he sails, how she conquered it’s surface, and took his place— wearing the title of captain she twists the law in her hands, and oh poor officer, his dignity on the lane. but when she turned to face him, it was stare down again.
then she leaned once more, ( & he boiled with anticipation ) her breath brushed skin, ( & he wanted her to take him )
but she came to a halt, and his eyes flickered unwillingly to enchanting lips, how he parted his own to answer but his mind too busy yearning for another glimpse, what a fool ! it was merely a game of push and pull ! how denial got him more tangled, & he scoffed in deriding anger, “don’t get full of yourself now, i don’t think an officer taking interest in you is a good thing, ever.” oh but you did, so put a distance before she burns you again— hands withdrew; tugging on his tie to cool the ever growing heat, throat cleared more for twisted ill-tempered confusion and attempt to regain equanimity,
"i’m sure you’re familiar with admirers— but don’t get the police on your tail."
engrave him in your memory : how the constellations in obsidian orbs sparkle underneath the florescent lighting. how his lips trembled & eyebrows tensed from evident anticipation. how the sailor struggled with inner turmoil --- waves of sin crashing against his heroic heart. morality swayed by the saccharine melody of her haunting song; it lined the delicate curves of his features. and he was marked ( doomed ) by the deadly siren for all eternity. for her song will be his nightmare lullaby & her image carved into his eyelids. soon his vessel will be her wreckage, and she will feed on his beautified empathy. condemn him ! condemn him ! condemn him before he purifies your fire !
ah, but his saliva is holy water, and the screeching wails belong to her vile demons. pretty little vixen eyes built to seduce weak men; he is anything but weak. so his holy water breath aroused the queen --- awakened both malice and goodness. danger ! danger ! do not get near. the outcome of the flirtation between outlaw and sheriff will surely be an ugly explosion.
heroic justice, heroic justice, heroic justice : can't you see she is rotten to the core? desire is a humanly sin --- but to desire her will surely drive you to insanity. she tastes of heaven, but she leaves hell in her wake. & the matter of fact is --- she always leaves.
"you are right." mockery painted the colors of her eyes. "it wouldn't be very entertaining. not with your poor performance." listen to how provocative husked words rolled off her tongue --- like velvet dipped in sex --- made to to provoke the hidden rage that brewed deep inside him. don't whine, officer, your possessiveness sent shivers down her very spine. wrap your shackles around her tiny wrists. cuff her to your greedy soul. punish her.
punish her for drawing her metal chair back ( ghastly was the sound of metal scraping against the clean floor ). punish her for standing without permission. punish her for her fluid motions --- for graceful moves that ended her in his strong arms ( delicate she looks now nestled in the caverns of his broad shoulders ). punish her for pushing her lithe body so sweetly, so sinfully, against his. oh, punish her for drawing his hands around her tempting figure. she should be locked up for how she pressed his hands on her back, for how she moved them down the curve of her spine, only stopping when her hips was reached.
"i beg to differ. if the officer is you, then i think it is a very good thing." siren smirked as elegant hands moved to straighten his silk tie. "the idea of you chasing me is very enticing. i would say cuff me, but it seems like your time is up. now, are you going to walk me out like a proper gentleman?"
genesis ✈ siwon & violet
what an undeniable attraction at first glance, how she lured him in, getting closer & closer— slower & slower, how his jaw tightened & he huffed in anger— but oh big shot inspector…too full of his pride to calm his temper, when his eyes widened for a split second as toxic lips pressed faintly against his own, the taste was so pleasuring yet like pure venom poisoning his whole, inflaming every sense that he claimed, how she caught him off guard, and made him a fool—
what a d a r e d e v i l— she completely threw off his cool,
the force one kiss could hold; how it captured him in the hands of a baneful queen, and got him more infuriated by any mean. & it was that little want that added to his inner storm; wrath, lust, pride— he was a valid proof that even a saint man could sin, especially by a siren that tempted him in.
so conflicted was how he pushed himself away, putting a safe distance between him and the dangerous woman that made him a prey. a thumb brushing his marked lips, how he let out a forced scoof to keep his composure but the flaming nostrils gave him away— what kind of calm demeanor could be given when papers flew scattering as they hit the wall, when the door opened behind him and a man (with hints of amusement on his face) stepped through only to be snarled at by the humiliated cop,
"out! i want everyone out."
this was between her & him, it could be any second now that someone comes in, it could be any second now that they take her away & she claims the win, it could be any second now so might as well take the time to get her in his chain and prove that this was his domain.
not even you
—your highness queen,
you aren’t above the l a w,
you s t o l e a kiss,
such cunning t h i e f,
now the v e r d i c t is in his hold.
it took a few steps, so assertive, so strict, when a stern man rounded the table— coming from behind; he leaned once again, one hand here, one hand there— her chair between his arms, nearer he came, voice sharp and low; “whether you walk out of here free, i’ll still have my eyes on you, i’ll make sure of that alright,”
he reminds her of a brewing storm with ominous secrets ( eyes coated with wounded anger ) --- where temperamental nature had not yet reign destruction. but the promise is there...hidden behind a veil of frustration and confusion. lingering until the most opportune moment to present its deadly ability; fueled by her tainted scarlet lips. fueled by a kiss gifted to him as a form of mockery. a kiss is just a kiss. a kiss is just a kiss ! then why did her lips memorized the shape of his already? his lips tasted of cotton candy and whiskey ( danger mixed with addictive sweetness ); the kind of taste her mama used to rave about :
he will haunt you, my darling. drag you down into the hole. he will leave you to the reaper. never trust a guy that tastes like w h i s k e y.
but, mama, he is the sailor and she is the siren --- no, no, she is the siren and he is prince eric. not even his sturdy & expensive ship could resist her crashing waves. not even he ( this saint ) could fight off the temptation of her alluring song. if he was to doom her with his noxious taste ( her avarice heart cried out for more, more, more ), then she will drown him in her waves. oh but how her insides sighed when the warmth of his breath no longer fanned her pretty face ! traitorous ! hush now !
"don't be rude. he could stay and watch if he likes." look at scarlet curve --- "or do you want to keep me all to yourself, mister officer?"
siren purred in delight. cheshire cat grin never fading from vixen lips, not even when amused officer left; not even when her officer approached. demanding steps & dominating moves --- manly body barely grazing against the fabric of her blouse, but it fueled her with anticipation. she decided she likes him better like this : all manly and beautiful --- all rage and commands. as she turned her head towards him ( tilting ever so slightly just so she can capture his eyes ), she concluded that he is much more fun this way.
much, much more fun. so fun that she leaned in once more.
only to stop before she steals again. "yes, you love watching me, don't you? i don't mind --- have your eyes on me. i do adore having admirers."
↪ 104 / ?? of lee hyori
— the inner workings of my mind.
Son Gain, a ghost buried in the past, a lost soul searching for a purpose or direction in life. Missing, she was, and sometimes she wanted to be found.
Trembling fingers curl around the cigarette between her lips and she fills her lungs with poison. Toxic flowers bloom within the confines of the organ, decorating her carbon-stained insides with hazy blue roses. She had always liked roses. Dawn shades the playground in hues of cool blue and soft lavender as the morning sun caresses her skin with the first rays of sunlight. It’s then that she realizes she had been up all night, doing god knows what.
Smoke curls from between her lips as she stares at the sky, watching the sombre air spread lighter with every minute the clock ticked away. It’s six in the morning and she finds herself lying at the bottom of the slide, with her eyeliner smudged underneath her bloodshot eyes, red spider webs crawling across the white surface. She tries to push herself up but finds the world spinning around her and she can’t help but to wonder if she’s still drunk.
It’s not until she senses movement that she looks up and realizes that she’s not alone, but it’s six in the morning and the world is still asleep and whoever just joined her on the playground cannot be anything but a ghost, she’s sure. She shivers as she lies down again; the metal feels cold against her skin. She’s wrapped up in a black hoodie that’s at least twice her size but her legs are bare and covered in bruises.
“Sometimes I think I’m not really here.” She starts slowly, assuming whomever she just saw was nothing but a hallucination. “I’m alive but not really living, drifting aimlessly. Everything feels so empty and… fragile. It’s suffocating, and sometimes I really can’t take it anymore.” The pink cigarette slips from in between her fingers and her hand moves up to her face to wipe away the tears that started rolling down her cheeks.
Gain sits up enough to pull her hood over her short black hair and she folds her arms over her chest, desperately trying to find some warmth, as the crisp autumn air is merciless. “Sometimes I think I’m not really here, sometimes I don’t really want to be here.” Her voice is nothing more than a whisper and she doesn’t even know if someone is listening, but there is something very comforting about being able to spill your thoughts without having to hold back, even to a ghost.
far beyond normality laid a childish playground where shadows cried out battle rage when rammed against the golden rays of the sun. where the time is six --- where it is time for the moon to vanish behind the obnoxious sun. where it is time for night to end & morning to arise. drowsy mundanities dragged out of bed with sleep blinding their eyes. showers turned on; coffee brewed --- wash, drink, dress, ready to start the monotonous routine all over again.
ready to begin again.
but she is night's flower : with dark silky petals & intoxicating fragrant. with her hidden thorns and beautiful coloring. night's precious flower blooming only underneath silver moonlight. more breathtaking and more dangerous when tainted by midnight blue. come morning light, petals will wither and wilt --- exhaustion pulled her under. she slept ! she slept ! just not enough. never enough to truly reenergize; but enough to carry on until day and night fight for dominance again.
so she drifts like grains of sand in strong ocean currents. going here. going there. going wherever her running shoes take her. today's adventure : the playground of childish imaginations. a place of innocence --- no place for a broken little bird with sad eyes and holy water tears. no, this is not a place for lost souls with nowhere to go. this is a place for peter pan and his lost boys. a neverland, not wonderland. but how exquisite this little bird looks with broken wings. how oddly beautiful she is with melancholic pleas and mascara stained eyes. how she makes wild flower child want to wipe away all the tragedy in her sad little bird eyes.
"that is the thing about life." she does not hold her.
"it is a little bit disappointing. it has a way of making people feel insignificant and so fragile." siren sang --- her lithe body moving accordingly. squatting down directly in front of broken bird so she can take delicate face into her elegant hands. so that the pads of her thumb can wipe away the traces of depressed liquid. ah, she would lean in. she would stare. she would command attention as she cooed and cooed. "darling, you have been hurt before. i can see that there is something broken inside of you. something did that. someone did that."
& siren sang louder. louder. louder until ears bled. "why would you give up without burning the world down?"