HELL HATH NO FURY @innaxsb - Tumblr Blog

on your head* | sjm & kin

picture this

flesh-toned organza clinging to ivory skin whilst a mélange of intricately embroidered white-tail doves and flowers conceal her femininity. take a gander at the way the diaphanous fabric constricts around her curves, lilac waterfalls of tassel adorning her shoulders and hips. they shimmer and shift ethereally as the brunette navigates her way through passageways, her clandestine reconnaissance foiled by the din her heels make as they meet the marbled floor in musical succession.

and what an occasion to be chasing apparitions around the whiteface palace?

away from the whirl and eddy of bodies celebrating the anniversary of the late queen’s demise, inna finds repose in purpose. hers being an acquisition of a rare foreign wine she’s sure is waiting for her in the palace kitchens. why, she fails to fathom, should she toast with the same wine they continuously offer up on lesser occasions. queen areum, she dares to ponder, is most deserving of something full-bodied and with an otherworldly finish.

so, where did they hide it?

the conundrum only becomes closer to being solved the deeper she falls down alice’s rabbit hole. soon, the scent of freshly prepared food permeates the space that surrounds her and as if a spectral finger beckons her forward, she adheres, advancing forward into the unknown.

would she be reprimanded for trespassing? would they escort her promptly back up to the ball, thrust her into some lord’s arms where he’ll whisk her round and round and round until she no longer could process a thing? and would he taste the fermented grapes on her wine-stained lips after he leans in for a kiss?

these are the thoughts that taunt inna, picking apart her conviction, though, they soon fade into the backdrop of cacophony and chaos that envelops the kitchens as she approaches it. one by one, red-blooded and wary, they set their eyes on her as they hustle and bustle about. but no one dares to let their gaze linger, for she is a silver, after all. all questions remain mute, lost in glances brimming with mystification at her presence but she is no stranger to a searching eye. she welcomes them to look, challenges them to speak out on her appearance. the amount of lethal weapons at her disposal were not far few between and oh, how easy it would be to pluck out each and every one of their eyes with simple kitchen paraphernalia.

would you like to find out the dangers of a spoon?

towards a far corner, she glimpses upon a set of stairs that lead downwards. striding past the red kind, she makes her way down into what is dark and damp. inna did not entertain the tales of ghouls that season the stories from her childhood, she did not fear ghosts, her milk did not curdle at the mention of a Hell. so, it is no wonder why her eyes only sparkle in the semi-darkness that engulfs her as she finds what she has been looking for. barrels upon barrels line the walls, the scent of alcohol mingling that with the baked goods from the upper level.

she almost pats herself on the back in sheer triumph but her feat is far from over. inna nears a barrel, running her fingertips along the aged wood then the cool metal of the band. any of these barrels could be host to finest wine on this earth, but how was she to know? for now, she opts to denote the quality over names that did not hit home with her. perhaps, once she has gotten to drinking one, the quality would cease to matter.

@sbjaemin

#( .on your head;#( .para;#sb:event1

kirnheebibi

kim heejung + girlfriend looks!

#( .i pull thee inside my sleep;#( .told you i was the one of your dreams;

innaxsb

pomegranate seeds* | kjwvii & kin

innaxsb

jaewon:

an artist’s impression of the silver world is that of a handsomemaiden, with eyes as wide as a doe’s and a high nose, pressed to perfection bythe skilled fingers of michelangelo himself. they speak of her attractivenessin the kaleidoscope opal and pink pearls they sketch against the curve of heralabaster neck, and down, down, down dothey cascade between the curve of her breasts. they colour her lips a scarletred, paint smeared onto canvass as thick as the blood that fills thecapillaries of that of their red servants. so different is this red from theliquid steel that sings within her veins, that which they include to portrayher strength that is immovable, eternal.

and they say, within the cavity of her chest suspends anorgan,

rotting, devastating, stubbornly beating.

that is to say, here our crown prince exists, in the heartof all that gleams silver. he stands tall and proud, with his elegant fiancéedangling on his arm like an invaluable accessory. like actors on a vast stage,they nod in tandem at an important lord’s ramblings, with practised smilescurving towards the apples of their cheeks.

oh, but with every calmness accompanies a calamity, so herelady inna enters in a whirlwind of black, gold and wondrous disasters.

as is expected of all kwons, she is captivating even in her catastrophe,so one by one do her audience’s eyes shift to gaze upon her beauty.

( and as is expected of the prince and his curious nature,so does he tilt his head as careful eyes study her otherwise impenetrable façade.)

there is something odd about her, that one, as though she isbrittle where the rest of her family are malleable, and if one were to pressher into the kwon mould, she is sure to shatter. see, jaewon is nothing if notthorough, and in his study of the kwon family, he had found her to don rumours likesmooth silk draping along the length of her alabaster skin. though he cares notfor romances, he cannot deny that through a critic’s eye, tragedy adorns her quitebeautifully.

but such is the temporary allure of beauty, that heraudience soon tires of her and turns their gaze away and onto the next item onthe programme. jaewon, instead, is sure to keep her within his peripheralvision, and as documented in his studies of the kwon family, he soon witnessesthe hostile encounter between lady inna and her father. in the corner, likemagic, a sculpture comes to life and threatens to swing its iron sword into herunsuspecting audience, as though in retaliation of their faithlessness.

oh, what a delightful show. perhaps the time to meet his in-laws has come.

he promptly excuses himself from the pompous man, leavinghis betrothed to fend for herself as he waltzes over to the rest of her family.

“good evening, lord kwon.” here, he slides his palm against thesmall of inna’s back, an act of comfort disguised as an apology for hisintrusion. he fixates his gaze on the silver flecks of her irises, and a consolingsmile nestles comfortably on his sculpted lips, “lady kwon.”

“i pray you find tonight’s festivities… suitable for yourtaste?” a pause, as though an unspoken dare. “if not, i’m sure i can be of someassistance. please, i insist; anything for family.”

oh, do be wary of the devil’s grin.

did they not say that it is best to fight fire with fire?

and oh, how those fingers that press delicately into the fabric of inna’s gown smoulder, sure to leave wraithlike impressions on virginal flesh. one would muse that it is this unwelcome gesture that extinguishes her lady’s vexation but note the cool water gaze that imprisons her own, rendering her incapable of any sort of cognitive process, if only for one-second.

for he is the enigma responsible for her momentary incarceration. remarkable in the way he towers over her ( and her father ) with facile poise and guile, he smiles and she is certain in the way that the corners of his lips carefully shift upwards, what she rests her eyes on isn’t as it seems.

(but in a realm of smoke and mirrors, what, pray tell, is exactly as it seems?)

the clangour that sounds out from the blade slipping back into its place goes wholly ignored by the party that surrounds it, for the entrance of the crown prince demands the utmost attention. inna, with great difficulty, disrupts the line of sight, opting to regard a brass tray of pomegranates than deign to entangle herself in the pending customary exchange.

“good evening, your royal highness! yet again, another occasion to be bested, everything surpasses what i could even imagine.” in her peripheral she gains a gander of her father bend his rotund frame into a bow, notes the sycophantic cadence in his tone as the words trickle from his mouth like molasses. she notes all of this though she considers the sanguine hue of the pomegranates, finding beauty in the reminiscence of carnage and ruin.

my darling, destruction is perpetually at your doorstep, how could you miss it?

“inna so often has her head in the clouds, do pardon her, she can be rather… troublesome, i’m sure you’ve heard. inna,” his tone is pregnant with suggestion of her imminent annihilation if she fails to be amenable, though it is only when massive, pudgy fingers pry her chalice out of her hand that she returns her attention to her father and the prince. “…you haven’t greeted the prince.”

and how could she forget? or was it the flagrant disregard for the fiancé of the vile creature known as her sister that stopped her in her tracks? the former holds no semblance of the truth, though the latter is awfully close. in any case, inna twists her lithe frame to properly address the prince, a flurry of fabric moving with her as if caught up by an eddy. she lowers herself into curtsey, an epitome of elegance as she contorts her body with ease. however, it is upon the return that she captures her future king’s eyes, iniquity flashing fleetingly in the expression that claims her countenance.

“your royal highness, it is an honour.” she softens, holding her chin upwards, her back straight as a pin. with those colossal eyes she beholds the crown prince, and so she threatens to engulf him in red clay. “we wait with bated breaths for the glorious day you wed my dearest sister.”

if you listen closely, behind the euphonious treble of her voice you can hear pandemonium in the reverb of her flimsy statement.

#( .pomegranate seeds;#( .para;#( SLAY HER QUICK )

nauqhtvv

#( .i pull thee inside my sleep;#( .told you i was the one of your dreams;

pomegranate seeds* | kjwvii & kin

she’s late.

but to her, everyone is just a tad too early.

doors open to a marvel clad in black and gold. swathed in an inky night sky of chiffon illuminated by silk meteor showers, her gown plunges low to reveal her décolletage. an embroidered dirk through a crimson heart decorates where the scoop of her bust meets her stomach, a crude sort of personal coat of arms. cocoa-hued tresses cascade about her face in an unkempt perfection, they move fluidly as she marches into the hall, fit for battle.

and how could one dare to argue that she is not?

she is picturesque, akin to that of a damsel in a renaissance painting albeit her gaze embodies that of Medusa’s as she casts her orbs of honey in the direction of her dear sister. she sports the crown prince on her arm as if he were nought but a leather purse and inna’s stomach turns full circle, eliciting an unhealthy dose of envy to traces her veins. a scowl soon threatens to breach her mask of apathy that she applies heavily like foundation on this particular occasion. how insipid and trivial inna finds these countless events they celebrate in honour for the pairing, as if they had already been crowned as king and queen.

inna contemplates the smile that stretches across her sister’s face, decides that she would rather glimpse a frown anchored by indignation at her expense in its place but before any plan could come to fruition, a necessary poison would need to be requisitioned. scanning the hall, she discovers the table that hosts the refreshments and more importantly, the wine. her heels clack across the marbled floor, chanting angrily as she strides towards the spread, the small train of her gown dusting the ground behind her. she inches towards it, sylphlike appendages reaching out to wrap themselves around a golden chalice, only to be intercepted by father.

“you’re late.”

sibilant and silent, he hisses in her ear as she brings the cup of fermented bliss to her lips in attempt to conceal a smirk. it tickles her, oh so much, to hear the contempt roll off of her father’s tongue. as if a traditional game only the two of them play, she awaits the rest of his hushed tirade to barrage her right ear as the potent liquids slips through her lips and down her throat.

“why must you insist on making a spectacle of yourself, an embarrassment to your sister, your future queen! if you mess this up for her, God so help me, you will never see the light of day. do i make myself clear?”

his words like tiny napalms, violent and incendiary, burn into inna’s conscious, and they ignite the fire that lies dormant within her. she takes umbrage at his threat, testament to her wrath in the shuddering crockery on the table and the suits of armour that seem to shiver against the wall. behind the ruby rimmed chalice, her smile dissipates and in its place chagrin assumes residence.

“my lord, your precious daughter isn’t queen yet… anything could change our prince’s heart.”

saccharine is the smile that she adorns but her lips emit poison as she utters her response. she watches her father bridle, his scarlet flush all too revealing, which inna perceives with glee. the suit of armour’s sword begins to shift upwards from it’s clasped hands but the two immerse themselves in a battle of bitterness, oblivious to the fact.

@sbjaewon

#( .pomegranate seeds;#( .para;#sbjaewon

hey there hey! it me, ash! i bring to you my angel of death, kwon inna! she's got a wicked disposition - a whole bitch (oop) - due to her unfortunate status as secondary and papa issues. she’s full of rage and bitterness and chooses not to hide it albeit it is much more contained than it used to be. she is opposed to custom, not your average lady, and relishes in the deprecation of the reds. she heavily believes that they are beneath her but then hell, she considers that of almost everyone ^^; you can refer to her bio or profile for some light reading and if any of yoll would like to plot, just like this post and i’ll swing into your dms. i also have discord if that helps! (effervescent#3337) but for now, find below a quick summary of my lil terror!