#opened;

Send me “HEARTBROKEN” for my muse to snap/break in front of your muse. Send me “HEARTBROKEN ↔” for the reverse.

      Arms envelop his niece in an embrace, pulling her close to him and holding her tightly, paying no mind to the hot tears seeping through the fabric of his tunic. Fingers brush through her hair as he murmurs quiet assurances that the dark images that had twisted her pleasant, childish dreams are nothing more than that.

      “It’s all right, little one,” he whispers into her hair as tiny hands curl into his clothing and her face burrows deeper into his chest. “There is no evil here. You are safe.”

hurt meme.

      It was early when he woke, early enough that no light had yet begun to peek over the horizon, and early enough that she had not yet needed to wake. Try as he might, Selig could not return to sleep, lying there with his eyes closed and vainly attempting to clear his mind of thought. After some time he gave up and rose quietly from their bed, careful not to wake her so that she would not lose any sleep on account that he’d already lost his own.

      As he dressed himself, intending on walking the grounds to clear his head, Emmeryn stirred a few times, but never woke. For that he was relieved. He could find her later and tell her where he’d been, but for now the stone walls felt stifling and he was eager to escape them and breath in the morning air.

      However, he’d not needed to find her, though he’d certainly been on his way to do just that. As he’d returned to the castle, it’s walls no longer so containing, he knew she would be returning from her first morning meetings and he nearly ran right into her as he rounded a corner.

      “Emmeryn –” he started, but he cut himself off as soon as he saw that she was going to speak and the first words out of her mouth were regarding his whereabouts. In hindsight, now that he thought about it, he should have left a note.

Send “Can I kiss you?” to see how my muse responds. – not accepting

      It was because he was the king that she felt like she had to ask for permission. Selig was a very proper, reserved individual. He wasn’t one for public displays of affection and did little more than peck her cheek when in the presence of others. They’d not done much more than that either. Nothing that he could be blamed for – this was how he’d been raised, after all, and this was how he chose to treat their relationship.

      And sometimes he felt insecure about this because he knew that he wasn’t the most publicly affectionate. He knew that others did not share the same principles as he and it made him wonder if he needed to adjust his behavior in some way. When she asked if she could kiss him, for a moment he felt that insecurity. Because she felt like she had to ask.

Send “Can I kiss you?” to see how my muse responds. – not accepting

      She seemed almost… hesitant when she asked, like she was expecting him to reject her. Their relationship had been progressing rather nicely, so it wasn’t as though a kiss would be all that unusual, but there was still that underlying uncertainty in her voice. He could hear it, and he didn’t like it.

Sweet Affectionate Moments

27. Accidentally Sleeping In

      It made him feel like something of a hypocrite to tell her that she worked too hard and too much because he had quite the tendency to bury himself in his own work without noticing the time go by or taking into account his own needs. However, Emmeryn had been working since the young, tender age of ten, so he didn’t feel so hypocritical when he distracted her from poring over documents and paperwork, stealing some of her time away so it could be spent on herself instead. This was also why he didn’t hurry to wake her when he opened his eyes blearily and squinted against the morning sunlight.

      Normally when they woke there was not so much light – enough of it, but not so much – so Selig knew without doubt that they’d taken a bit more of the morning to themselves than intended. It was a little odd that no one had come to see what held them, but he suspected Chrom and Lissa might have had something to do with that. After all, they’d been working for far longer than he at getting their sister to relax and take care of herself.

      Turning his head, Selig smiled to see that his wife had not yet woken, blonde lashes tickling the apples of her cheeks, lips parted ever so slightly. Her curls were a mess – he’d called them cute the first morning so tussled and mussed – but he thought she looked beautiful still even without being made up and presentable. With gentle fingers he brushed a few strands of hair tickling her nose out of her face.

      “Emmeryn,” he murmured, pushing himself up onto his elbow so he could lean over and brush his lips tenderly across her forehead.

      She stirred, lips pressing together as she hummed her discontent with waking with fluttering eyelids. It made his lips quirk up to watch her burrow deeper into the covers, unconsciously protesting the rising of the sun.

      Much as he would have liked to watch her sleep and drink in her peaceful expression, he knew that they’d spent enough of the morning in bed.Since she’d not woken on her own she surely must have been tired and he’d love for her to get her fill of rest, but such was the nature of ruling a kingdom. He drew the blankets away from her face, shaking her gently to tug her into the waking world and, regrettably, away from her dreams.

      “Darling, you need to wake up.”

      Another hummed protest. Another shake.

      A green eye peeked open, focusing on the somewhat amused expression her husband was giving her. Emmeryn opened the other eye and blinked a few more times, letting her eyes adjust to the light. In a moment she sat up, whatever sleep that still clung to her quickly being shooed away by her realization that she’d slept in. Much more calmly, Selig followed suit.

      “What time is it?” There was just the slightest note of panic in her voice, the kind that one felt when knowing they were late.

      He stretched. “I’ve only been awake a few minutes longer than you, my dear. I don’t know. But,” he added, “I’m sure your brother’s taken care of any pressing matters that need attending to.”

      There was still a trace of concern on her features, brow furrowed. “I still need to get ready.”

      Humming his affirmation, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yes, and we will. There’s just no need to rush, I promise you Ylisse has survived half an hour without its Exalt and it will survive a half hour more.”

Send me ‘I want the K’ and I’ll generate a number

10: Neck Kiss

      They didn’t happen as often anymore – the nightmares. When Hyrule had first regained its peace they happened nearly every night, forced him awake with a scream forcing itself out of his throat as he desperately tried to expel the evil that had taken up residence within him. It tinted his skin green and etched the same markings on his skin that had appeared when he’d been possessed. Dark green lines that spread over his body in geometric patterns that seemed to take lifetimes to fade as he stared down at his shaking hands and willed them to disappear.

      Over the years they plagued his sleep less frequently, but still frequently enough that it made him wonder most nights if they would come. The unconscious visions and reminders of his possession were unpredictable. He told Emmeryn about them, of course, because it would be wrong to hide it from her and let her find out by waking to his cries. She needed to know what burdens he shouldered and he praised the Goddesses that she hadn’t been deterred by them.

      He would praise them again in the morning for her kindness.

      Selig opened his mouth to breathe, but a strangled cry escaped him instead as he sat up, fingers clutching and pulling at the fabric of his shirt, tugging on his hair. He flinched at first when she touched him, not having noticed that he’d woken her, but she didn’t pull her hand away from him.

      “Selig,” came her voice, gentle and concerned, but firm. “Look at me.”

      He didn’t at first, shoulders hunched in and lips mouthing quiet pleas and desperate prayers. Her voice came again, though, and she slid closer, hand tugging gently on his shoulder until he looked up.

      “It hurts,” he whispered, nearly whimpered. She knew what he was talking about, remembering what he’d told her when she’d learned about his scars. The magic used to suppress him within his own mind had caused him pain, and the magic that had burned his skin caused even more. “Get him out, Emmeryn. Get him out.”

      In her chest her heart clenched, his desperation obvious as his voice rose marginally. Emmeryn coaxed him out of his current position, curled in on himself, and pulled him into her arms, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. His hands went from clutching his shirt to clinging to her nightgown. How awful it must have been for him to suffer through nights like these alone. It made her heart ache all the more.

      “He’s not in there,” she murmured into his ear, rubbing small comforting circles on his back and stroking his hair. “He’s not in there anymore. It’s all right.”

      A shaking, shuddering breath left him and fanned out against her skin. He tried to focus on her voice rather than how his skin surely appeared or the taint on his his soul.