𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 .

“......What on earth did I just read.”

ozy vc: nero…

    Oh what a beautiful place! not as beautiful as her beloved domus aurea ( of course ) however, she certainly could not demerit such exquisite work of architecture! Lacing her arm around Ozymandias’ her excitement pulls her forward (just as much as she’s pulling Ozymandias forward)  ❝ LET’S GO oh beloved Pharaoh Ozymandias ! A night full of GRANDEUR awaits its protagonists! Since you still seem astonished, I shall enlighten you about the situation; there is this wonderful thing I’ve heard about- a fountain that does not drip clear water but melted chocolate ! You can even stick any meal you desire and it shall get tainted on chocolate! fascinating work, truly! We definitely have to go see it! ❞

               the emperor’s sheer tenacity knows no limits; their great height difference doesn’t stop her either. a quiet sigh and he leans his shaking head into his hand.   “  fine.  ”   for once, for generosity’s sake he will give her this one. the vice commander leans over, lends her his cheek as he folds his arms and taps his foot.  “  don’t get used to this, eh?  ”

Anon said “i dont know why but whenever Nero starts boasting about herself i immediately think of her doing the morshu animation meme.”

“Oh? Do think it is a good idea to be touching that?” With the overflowing cerebrospinal fluid, running down the unstitched seams onto his face, Kenjaku grinned through it, watching as her hand moved away, dripping with thick liquid. Never had anyone thought to pat his… ‘head’ nor would he have thought anyone would be so intrusive to disturb him while he fixed his stitches. One of the child Servants thought it would have been entertaining to pull at one of the threads and attempt to undo it while he rested his eyes; fortunate for them he hadn’t thought to cut off their filthy hands. Easily, he tied up the seams again and wiped at his forehead. “If your head wasn’t already filled so much empty space, I might recommend you do the same.”

      ‘ eh ?  nero … ‘  in the midst of his mild surprise he supposes he should at least offer her his thanks ,  if she weren’t nigh already slathering his hands in lotion for him in a frenzied fervor .  of course even the red emperor’s generosity is an overbearing ,  overwhelming thing —  just as was her love ,  pouring in a warm torrent over the weathered grooves and calloused scars marring his fingers .  she softens rough hands ;  turns his pugilist palms tender despite the work of it .  his are two times larger than her own ,  after all —  indelicate and useless ,  things that required an amount of time and gentle intent he never spared for himself when he could be roughing them up even more .  the callousness // built up callouses ,  or so he believed .  better to be cruel and strong than pathetic ,  miserable and helpless .  better to close up his heart than open it again to myriad wounds ,  the ragged muscle still bleeding with every beating breath .  he only needed to become uglier ,  stronger ,  as monstrous as he must as a murderer if only to protect what he wanted to keep ;  what he was too afraid to admit that he loved ,  vulnerable and bottomlessly deep .  this was just his fate ,  as a shadow and phantom ;  another abandoned undesirable that nobody believed in .  thus ,  if nero was the sort of person to proclaim that she loved beautiful things ,  then why was she ever bothering with him ?  anybody else could be bettered and survive it .  even if they were never absolved of their history’s blood and sin ,  they could still retain a bright ,  lasting glory as a heroic spirit .  she shares with him and he’s still jealous ,  biting down on his lip ,  the wrench of his expression obvious ,  nevermind her theatrical deduction ,  her uncanny ability to tell his truths and separate them from the masks of what various roles he played .  like this she takes care of his hands and reaches his very soul —  feeling shy ,  circumstances suddenly too intimate ,  he draws his limbs away and looks at her ,  briefly wounded ;  briefly afraid before he quietly speaks .  ‘ …  nero ,  i can put it on myself . ‘

        ❝ You can ! but have you? Your hands have not changed since last time I saw them, you have not been giving them the exquisite treatment they require ! ❞   What a stubborn man !  ❝ You either do not want to think about them or you dislike the smell of peaches. Which is it ? ❞

nevertheless, he figured he made a mistake by saying something in the first place. hijikata leans back in his chair, away from the table he was hunched over, chair creaking soft underneath his weight. he holds the book directly in front of his face, leg crossed over the other and arms half-folded. he’s rectifying that mistake now.   /    @heartdrivn​