#volturiking

❝ — you were wrong, ❞  youthful that he might be, to stand and say so proudly against their leader; carlisle’s wry gaze did not take any pleasure in the thought, eyes centered upon his tome. in the least, at least aro had been honest about the depth of knowledge their castle volterra contained. it had soothed his frustrations, when he found himself little more than a thorn in the side of all others who occupied its halls. 

a risk.    he had taken a risk he thought was well calculated,    yet caius had not necessarily considered the consequences of such decision.                                  he knew he was in trouble for this.    how often was one of aro’s trusted companions brought into throne room, after hours, to face him alone, without the   subjecting    eyes of his commrades?

        /                        @volturiking​    ♡’d      for      a     starter .

@volturiking​ asked: *tenderly holds his hand*

for some time now,   he has wondered what is it that drives aro’s (not entirely) subtle approaches; sweet words & sweeter promises. carlisle had half-expected them to stop completely when he had finally tasted the sweet temptation, joined his coven. & yet still, he received an outpour of attention from the other, a kind that he found curious — he would be ridiculed, mocked, only to return to his spoils. now, with cold fingers against his own, palm cradled between them, it is curious to him that aro would be so forward. but it is not an unwelcome touch, as he turns his eyes toward him, with gaze softened for him alone.

how he craved these softer moments,      upholding an image in the face of everyone else was   a nightmare.    the world probably thought he hated aro,                        yet they couldn’t be more wrong.     there was not another person on this earth caius    trusted more.

there was a softness in the way he sat,     leaning lazily against the other with a book in his hands.                                      head would tip slightly,     as he managed to slip down slightly, head resting against his shoulder.    ‘      we need new books,      ’       he breathed,      hands flipping through pages he had read a thousand times.      ‘       as much as i enjoy these   ancient   texts,     it gets a little old after a while.      ’