#my things;

[youngjaaes]

#HappyYjayDay!

[fenharelxenansal]

It was evening in the Imperial Palace. Briala walked through quiet hallways, shadows flickering from the sconces on the walls; eerily silent and empty, as it often was once Her Imperial Highness had retired to her chambers for the evening.

Briala’s quarters weren't far. A simple bunk, a simple desk with a few candles, an armoire filled with her dresses - everything was in its place. She ran the tips of her fingers across the surface of the desk, and smiled to herself.

Turning, she crossed the small room to the armoire and opened the doors; she paused for a moment before reaching upwards, finding the hidden latch that released the false back of the wardrobe.

The palace was old, almost incredibly so, and the secret passages were as well. She had often found herself wondering what the original purpose of this one had been; an escape route for the an ancient leader of their country, perhaps. She didn't bother to wonder if theirs was not the first illicit affair carried on within these walls. Speculating on the past brought her no comfort.

The passage was small, but she navigated it easily, disappearing into inky blackness with the armoire’s doors shut behind her. A few minutes later she emerged in the Empress’ chambers. Candlelight cast harsh shadows across the woman’s angular face as she sat at her desk, reviewing noble petitions and schedules and the thousands of tiny decisions that needed her final approval. She looked up at the quiet rasp which announced Briala’s presence, eyes tired, and the two women smiled at each other.

“Come to bed, Celene.”

For once, the most powerful woman in Thedas presented no protest; her incredibly long, impossibly pale hair cascaded down her back, the softest sigh of a sound as it brushed against the silk of her nightdress. Briala could lose herself in that sound, in the endless blue of her eyes, in the feeling of smooth, long fingers beneath her chin, warm breath against her lips. Even after twenty years, it took her breath away.

“What would I ever do without you, Bria?”

“Let’s hope we never have to find out.”

A smile, the heat of lips pressed against each other; hands curling into hair, bodies shifting closer, Briala breathed in the scent of her lover, warm jasmine and spice, and for a moment, all was perfect.

Then she noticed the view from the window, and her heart stopped. Billowing smoke rose into the night sky, until there were no stars to be seen.

“What did you do?”

Her voice shook, her throat raw, and she tried to pull away from the Empress - only to find herself paralyzed, trapped in her embrace, the taller woman smiling down at her. It didn’t matter. She already knew the answer to her own question.

“Only what was necessary. You would have done the same. Let’s not dwell on the particulars.”

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, as if waking from a trance, and she pushed Celene away from her with as much force as she could muster.

“No, no, no, this isn’t - you - ”

Everything seemed to move much faster at that moment, her thoughts disjointed and chaotic - she was fourteen and the palace was echoing with screaming, the halls ran red with blood, her parents lives seeping out onto the floor in front of her - they were cold when she touched them, so cold, and Celene’s tearstains matched her own. She looked down at her hands, trying to ground herself, and found them caked in dried blood and ash, a silverite dagger in her right hand; she looked back up at the woman before her, and her grip tightened.

“You killed them.”

“I did what I had to.”

“You killed them.”

Briala was small, but that didn’t stop her from pushing Celene up against a wall, her blade against the porcelain flesh of her neck. Tears brimmed in the elven woman’s eyes, but the Empress stayed cool and impassive as a statue, even as a drop of blood beaded under the tip of the knife. She even smiled.

“You’re not going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Briala woke as the dagger clattered on the stone floor.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had the dream, the first time she’d woken drenched in sweat, heart pounding. She didn’t bother to sit up or light a candle; she laid in her bed, staring into the inky darkness, waiting for her body to calm.

You are nothing without me, Briala. Never forget that.

She allowed herself only a few shaky breaths, before turning over to return to sleep.

[youngjaaes]

bangjae’s style: 21st century detectives

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[youngjaaes]

fave b.a.p stage looks    ↳ youngjae edition

[youngjaaes]

Youngjae’s effective (?) way of waking up the maknaes

[youngjaaes]

180901 ✧ Skydive