#ch: varis zos galvus

[galvus]

#final fantasy #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots #wolnpc #varis zos galvus #variswol #type: screenshots #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: edits

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 19 - Tender

“Cid and I only want to help you, you know.”

It is almost noon, the sun high in the sky, but the day is surprisingly cool due to autumn beginning to settle in. Estinien is a furnace unto himself, your fingers trailing across the bare skin of his torso, drawing lazy patterns on toned muscle, your fingers tickling his abs. Held close like this in the aftermath of your coupling, you find that this tenderness is what you crave, and despite it being right in front of you, you cannot have it.

“I know.” You sigh, tucking your face into his neck, breathing him in.

“But…?” Estinien prompts, clearly not willing to let you weasel out of this.

“But...” You whimper, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, gripping him tighter, your nude form pressed snugly against his own. What could you say that would keep you out of Varis’ sights? Keep Cid out of his sights? Your choker feels like a brand against your skin. “If you are so smart, how would you help me? I doubt you could come up with a plan to stop anything Varis can do.” You smile bitterly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the despair you feel.

Estinien stiffens for a moment beneath you, before releasing a slow breath. “I see.” Is all he says, and it is silent for a few minutes more. Times like these, you wish he did not speak so much, want so much from you. He wanted far more than you could give, both because you couldn’t risk his safety and because of your feelings.

Your feelings for--

“I should make you scream louder then, huh.” He chuckles and you smack him on the chest for even saying such a thing.

“You brute.” You can’t help but laugh, even a little bit.

“I think they prefer the term savage.” He smirks, tilting your face up to him. Your eyes immediately look to the far wall, not wanting to meet his own, knowing exactly you’ll find there. “Honey.” The adoration in his voice is enough to pull your gaze back to him, his eyes boring into your very soul. “There is nothing I would not do for you.”

Tears finally overflow, a sob breaking past your lips. “That’s the problem.”

Standing in Varis’ office, you have no choice but to stand there and be humiliated as your own moans and sighs are played back for you to hear. Your face is not red from embarrassment or shame, but instead a righteous anger that even your most tender moments must be used against you like this.

You wish you could go back in time and slap yourself silly.

Lips pursed together, you glare back at Varis, hiding nothing, hiding none of your absolute loathing for him. That loathing shifts into disgust when you swear there is a note of enjoyment in his features at listening to the playback. Reclining in his chair, he throws you a vile smirk as your conversation with Estinien plays over the computer speakers.

“What had you called the bodyguard earlier? A friend?” He asks, twirling your choker between his fingers.

“I don’t believe I hesitated.” You ground out, parroting his own phrase back at him.

“This sounds far too personal for something as trivial as friendship.” He gleams, placing the choker back on his desk. “Do not think I did not see your attempt to protect him.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, body going stiff as time seems to freeze for a moment.

“You’re bold, little savage, to go against orders from your superior.” Varis’ tone is completely absent of any amusement, his golden eyes staring you down.

Fear stills your tongue, makes you question your actions and it is not fear for yourself; it is for Ardbert, for Cid, for Estinien--

“I-It is because perhaps I do feel something beyond just friendship for him.” While meant as a lie to try and appease him, you startle yourself with how much truth the statement carries. “In that moment I was not thinking of your orders, and only of my...feelings for him. To protect him.”

Varis studies you for a moment, before that sleazy smile returns to his face. “I see.” He chuckles, relaxing once more. “In that case, I will excuse this mistake, so long as it is the last. Am I understood?” You nod, which seems to please him. “Good. I will admit, I was growing...apprehensive at the sudden turnaround of your relationship with Zenos. But with this confirmation of your feelings for that savage, I believe things will resume according to plan.” He tilts his head slightly, pinning you with a pitying look. “Savages should breed with savages after all.”

Taking a deep sigh, you clench your fists tightly at your sides to keep your anger in check. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“Is there anything else, my lord.” He corrects, brows furrowed. “And no, you are free to go.”

You cannot turn on your heel fast enough to get out of there.

As tempted as you are to slam the door behind you, you allow the lock to gently click shut, power walking down the hall as fast as you can. It is entirely too early in the day for you to feel as stressed as this, and it is well past noon. Due to Varis’ orders, you have no need to go anywhere near Zenos and this is the only time you’ll ever feel gratitude for the monster that is Varis zos Galvus. The last person you want to see right now is his son, at least, not before you can take care of all these hickeys.

Never could you have predicted that taking on this mission would mean that your love life would also be in jeopardy. Gone were the problems of a guy not texting back or breaking your heart altogether. No, now you had to deal with pretty, rich boys and prickly bodyguards who treated you right.

You could already hear Y’shtola’s admonishing tone for even thinking of choosing Zenos over the man who actually treated you like you deserved. Had Lyse known about Zenos and what he did to you, you were sure that she would give him a piece of her mind. The thought makes you shudder, because while Lyse was also a trained fighter, you knew she could never lay a hand on Zenos.

No one could.

Grumbling about nothing in particular, you spend the rest of your day off watching whatever is on your tablet, filtering through cute cat videos and recipes you would never get to try. Before you know it, the sun has already set, and you’ve missed dinner, but it's not like you had much of an appetite anyway with how the day’s events played out.

Shrugging, you pull yourself from the comfort of your bed to pad to your bathroom to turn on the shower, needing to give it a few moments for the water to warm up with fall’s chill settling in. Heading back into the bedroom to grab a fresh towel, someone knocks on your door and you wonder who it could possibly be this late in the evening. Stepping to the door, you slide it open, gasping as you come face to face with a tattooed chest.

Following that tattoo upwards you meet an ice cold gaze, glaring down at you with the strength of Coerthan blizzard. “Zenos, what is,”

Saying nothing, he takes a single step forward and you take one back, letting himself into your room without permission. The door slides shut behind him, and you watch as he reaches a hand past his back to lock it shut. Trepidation fills you as you stare up at him, noticing how he’s already seemed to be dressed for bed. He wears a loose, silken robe, maroon in color, his hair loose around his shoulders. He wears no shirt underneath, and you bring your eyes back up before you can find the chance to see if he wears no pants either.

“It’s rude to barge in,” You try to start, but he takes another step towards you, reaching for the collar of your shirt. Acting fast, you quickly dodge his grip, spinning out of arm’s reach and closer to the bed. “What do you want?” You ask, gulping as you see no way out. There’s no way you’re getting past him and out the door without making a scene, and the circumstances aren’t so dire you need to break out your window.

He glares at you still, practically prowling toward you as he holds your gaze. “Why weren’t you at dinner?” He asks, and the question seems so random, you forget to keep distance between the two of you.

“Why does it matter?” You huff, crossing your arms across your chest. “I just forgot; after dealing with your shitty father, I wanted to just sit and enjoy the rest of my day without all of…” you gesture vaguely between the two of you, “this.”

Frowning, he pauses, a hand reaching to grab one of the bedposts as he gives you a heavy lidded look. “My father? What has he bid you to do this time?” He asks, the question innocent enough. You quickly debate on whether you should tell him though, given that his father hasn’t apprised him of his plans for you. Especially given that they involve Estinien--

“He sent me to collect information, as usual.” You reply, giving him a nasty look. “He was just especially shitty about it today.”

Zenos seems to consider that for a moment, almost mulling it over. “I see.” He takes another step toward you and suddenly you are aware of just how much distance he has covered between here and the door.

“Well if that’s all you wanted, you’re free to leave,” you continue backing away from him, checking behind you to make sure you don’t bump into anything. Edging away from the bed, you head toward the closest wall, the steam from the bathroom caressing your skin. “I was getting ready to shower and sleep for work tomorrow, and it seems you already have as well. I think we’re done here--”

“Oh, my beast.” He chuckles darkly, voice as thick as sin. “We are far from done.” He hasn’t stopped his advance on you, your mind addled from the day’s events to realize you had backed yourself right into the bathroom. His height allows him to nearly bump his head against the door frame, his broad shoulders nearly touching the sides. Stepping in, he shuts that door behind him too, trapping you both inside.

“W-What do you want?” You ask, voice trembling much like your body is, gasping as your lower back makes contact with the sink. With nowhere to go, Zenos stands before you, all muscle and good looks and gods, he smells so good--

“You’ve been with the bodyguard again.” It is an accusation instead of a question, a statement instead of an inquiry. Shame floods through you at this, cursing yourself for feeling trapped in this spot. To say you didn’t want to be with Estinien was a lie. To say you did was also a lie. You couldn’t tell the truth, not without putting Estinien or your own feelings at risk.

“So that is what my father put you up to, then.” Zenos murmurs, his hands resting on either side of you, gripping the shining porcelain, leaning into your personal space. You can feel his sigh against your cheek as his eyes jump across your face. The anger is still present in his eyes, though you notice it does not seem to be directed at you anymore, at least. But then…

“Please don’t...hurt Estinien,” You beg, but he shushes you with a finger on your lips, the action surprisingly tender as he continues to hold your gaze in silence. You stand there as he gazes at you, pinning you with a look so possessive it steals your breath away.

“How cruel are you to say another man’s name in my presence.” He mumbles, pressing his thumb against your lips, as if to test their softness. “No, I will not harm him. If there is anyone you should be concerned about harming him, it would be father.” As he leans forward you close your eyes, whimpering as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And if there is anyone you need to be worried about me harming...it would be father.”

Frowning, you reach out for his robe, enjoying the silk in your hands as you grip it tight. “I can protect myself.”

“This is true.” he whispers against your skin, his hand leaving your lips to instead snake around your waist and pull you against him. “But you cannot protect others from my father.”

You can already feel his arousal against your stomach, and though it is only half hard, it is impressive nonetheless. An ache of your own begins to grow between your legs, thighs clenching together as your body tries to press into his. Tilting your chin up, Zenos dips his head to press a kiss to your lips, biting down on your bottom lip in a way that has you melt into him instantly. Your hands clutch at him frantically to loop around his neck to bring you closer to him, needing to feel more and more.

Groaning, his hands immediately seek out your pants, pulling you off the sink enough to push them down your thighs, fingers grazing your already sensitive skin. You use your own to push his robe aside, exposing his chest as best you can while you kick your pants off as he works to shove your panties down as well. “Zenos,” you whine and he growls in return, hands hastily reaching for the hem of your shirt to wrench it over your head, taking no gentleness in the action that leaves your shoulders hurting for a moment.

You’re not in pain for long, his lips pressing kisses from your lips to your jawline, setting every nerve on fire in its wake as he trails down your neck where Estinien’s own marks lie. The force at which Zenos sucks on your skin is almost forceful, a mix of pain and pleasure as his hands work to divest you of your bra and dump it on the bathroom floor. Now naked, he grabs you by the hips and hikes you up onto the sink, placing himself between your legs and pulling you to him so you can feel his full hardness.

The way he nestles against your core is absolutely divine, your head rolling back as he continues to overwrite Estinien’s marks with his own. Feeling like things are unfair, you dig your blunt nails into his skin, wanting to leave some kind of mark of your own; after all, he did say he was yours as much as you were his.

Now that he has you naked, he’s feeling more agreeable to your hands trying to divulge him of his robe, his arms leaving you just long enough to get out of his sleeves before they are bringing you closer again. His hands immediately seek your breasts, squeezing and kneading, showing none of the initial gentleness he had just a night ago. His fingers pinch your nipples so deliciously it has you nearly jumping off the sink, your hips grinding along his length as you fight to get his robe all the way off.

To your surprise, you find that he was not wearing any underwear.

Face heating, you pull away from him as the robe falls to the floor, getting a good look at his length, before meeting his eyes. He arches a brow silently and you clear your throat before speaking what was on your mind. “Do you, uh...not sleep with pajamas?” You ask, watching as he huffs out a dry laugh.

“It depends.” he offers vaguely, humming as you take his dick in hand, feeling its satiny smoothness, its warmth and its desire for you. His hips jerk forward as you circle your hand around his cock, smearing the precum on the head before bringing your fingers to your lips to taste. It is salty as expected but you do not mind, eyes glazing over with lust as he brings his lips to yours to taste himself.

Your heart thuds in your chest as his hands rove your body, squeezing and gripping fiercely, yet so tenderly, that you don’t know what to think. The rush you had felt that night at the hotel as absent, and its place is something more...more…

Personal.

Too personal in fact.

Aware of this fact, you unconsciously try to pull away from him but he won’t let you go, pressing you further into the sink as he sinks his teeth into your skin. “Zenos,” you whine, your body wanting him, but, the way he holds you, it is not the way an enemy would. He does not hold you like one would in a one night stand with their boss. He does not hold you in the way a friend or a lover would.

He holds you like you belong to him, and him alone.

The thought alone tugs at your heartstrings, and you grip him that much tighter for it. “Don’t do this…” you whisper, not intending for him to hear, but he does.

“Do what?” he asks, licking a line between your breasts before he pulls you tight against him, hoisting you up from the sink. Your thighs tighten around his hips immediately as he walks you both to the still running shower, the spray washing over you both.

“I...I thought we weren’t lovers.” Is the only thing you can say without giving your own feelings away. Try as you might, you can’t tear your eyes away from how the water runs over the grooves of his chiseled form, his skin glistening before you as his hair sticks to his chest. Somehow his eyes are that much clearer here, an emotion you can’t name laid bare in his eyes, the intensity of it sweeping you away.

Grunting, he presses you against the wall of the shower. “We are not.” He agrees, reaching beneath you, trusting that you won’t allow yourself to fall. Taking his cock in hand, he fits the head past your lower lips, your breath hitching as he slowly feeds himself inside. “But you do belong to me.”

You hadn’t realized how ready you were for him, how wet you were that he meets little resistance as he pushes his cock deep inside you. Your head thumps against the shower wall as he pushes in ilm by ilm, your nails digging much more harshly into his perfect skin. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, breath hot against your skin despite the warmth of the water, a shuddering moan escaping him, your mind committing the sound to memory.

Something about this moment, makes you feel much more naked before him than you had ever felt previously.

Zenos had always been smart, always keen, as evidenced by him figuring out how his father was blackmailing you with you hardly having to say anything. He did not hae to say it, but you could sense he knew. He was able to read you like a book most days, to the point it was almost scary. That someone so vastly different from you could see right through you, begged to be believed. Underneath the spray of the shower, you feel as if all fronts are washed away, leaving the two of you raw with feelings neither of you know what to deal with.

Looking into his eyes, something in your heart yearns for him, your hands leaving his neck to cradle his face. Running your fingers along his skin, he remains silent under your inspection, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers graze across his lips, his nose. He truly was beautiful, all hard lines and soft edges, and undoubtedly yours. This man, this murderer, this monster, considered himself yours..

When you kiss him, it feels like you can’t get enough.

It is slow and heady, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, tongues dancing together as he fully hilts himself within you. He feels as perfect as he did the first time, your hands leaving his face to tangle in his wet hair, his grip on your thighs strengthening to hold you in place as he moves his hips to pull out before pushing back in, so slowly as if he is trying to carve out his place in your very being. Chest to chest, you moan into his mouth, your own hips trying to meet his thrusts but he holds you still, content on doing all the work.

“You’re so…” You rasp, taking your turn to trail kisses down his jawline, able to do nothing else since words fail you. Every part of his body you touch feels perfect, and you wonder how someone so awful could look how he does, hold you how he does.

“I know I forgot to ask last time…” he grunts, snapping his hips rather forcefully, burying his face into your neck, licking at the water that runs down your skin. “But you are on a contraceptive…?”

You nod, rolling your hips in a way so sweet he can’t help but groan. His hips snap into you again and you moan without shame, arching your back into him as he clutches you as if you’ll disappear. “Good. Because I’m not stopping. Not until it is clear to anyone with eyes just who you belong to.”

“Shouldn’t you have asked before,” Your quip is cut short as he gives a firm slap on your ass, the sting of his hand fading as he kneads the flesh, seeming pleased.

“Shut up, Honey.” He whispers, taking the time to meet your eyes, stealing another kiss as he begins to finally pick up the pace. Your ankles lock behind his back, holding you to him as his hips piston into your own, your sheathe so wet that he slides in and out with minimal resistance. His cock feels like it was meant for you and you alone, and the truth of that statement is enough to shake you to your core.

In your daze, you cup his face once more, meeting his stare, unafraid. “Say it again.” You demand, though with your lustful voice it sounds more like a plea. “Say my name again,”

“Honey.” He breathes, a realization shining in his eyes as if the very sound your name is magic. “Honey.” He repeats, pressing his forehead against yours, eyelids sliding shut as all his focus enters his third eye. “Honey.” The reverence that suffuses his voice makes you hold him tighter, to where air could not possibly pass between the two of you.

Reaching between you, he plays with your clit, increasing your pleasure as he fucks you. Your moans turn into high pitched cries of faster and more, kisses feverish as if the world is falling down around you. Paired with his fingers on your clit and his cock pounding you, it does not take you much longer to come undone, his name a prayer on your lips as you find your release. With your body gripping him so tightly he follows soon after, his seed shooting deep inside you as he moans your name against your skin.

The water has long since gone cold, something you thought impossible in this house, but you suppose you have been at it for awhile. The two of you stand beneath the lukewarm spray, a shiver racking your body as you keep close to Zenos for warmth. You both stand there in silence, unsure what to say, lest things get more complicated and this moment ruined.

Lowering your legs to the floor, you stand on wobbly feet much like a newborn fawn, the Galvus heir’s cum sliding down your legs, washed away by the spray of the shower. Shivering again, you press closer to his warmth in a rare show of weakness, the action making him go stiff before an arm reaches around your shoulder to hold you close. You feel his chin rest atop your head, the two of you standing there on the precipice of the unknown.

Gaining a courage you do not feel, you look up at him, finding he is looking right back. His hand brushes strands of your wet hair from your face, examining you much like you did to him earlier.

If you were asked who was the first to close the gasp and start that next kiss, you wouldn’t be able to answer.

As dawn breaks on the horizon, you groggily try to turn over to catch a few more precious minutes of sleep, confused as you find you cannot turn over at all. Thinking yourself tangled in your sheets, you kick your feet out to try and right yourself, only to have your toes brush against someone’s legs. Someone’s bare legs.

Gasping, the night comes back in a rush as you come face to face with Zenos’ sleeping one. That you have woken up before him is shocking enough in and of itself, considering he is always the first to wake and be ready to train every morning. His arm is like a steel band around you, his even breaths atop your head warm and soothing. Like this, no one would ever think him a monster, his face the very picture of peace.

Without thinking, you reach to press a small kiss to his lips, able to fully appreciate their silken texture now that you’re not in the throes of passion. The moment doesn’t last for long however, a sigh passing his lips as he holds you a little tighter and kisses you back. Despite the two of you being nude and pressed against one another, the kiss remains surprisingly chaste, simply enjoying the taste and feel of the other this early in the morning.

Seemingly satisfied, Zenos gives you a smug grin as he finally opens his eyes. “Good morning, my beast.”

Twelve above, what have you done?

“Good morning, Zenos.” You respond burying your face in his chest, unwilling to show him anymore than you already have. You’ve been vulnerable enough for a lifetime, you think.

“We should start our day, should we not?” He hums, giving you a firm squeeze. “As unopposed I would be to keep you in bed with me, we still have work to do.”

While a day in bed with him sounds wonderful, it makes you concerned for how much your feelings have changed. “Well, I’m in my room. You’re the one who has to do the walk of shame back up to your room.” You say with a rude snort, trying to pull away from his hold but he’s not willing to let go of you quite yet.

“It is hardly a walk of shame, my beast. It would not be the first time the staff have seen me stumble through my home naked after a night of fine drinks and fine women…” he mumbles into your neck, pressing a kiss there. This was getting way too personal, too fast. “I would not doubt that a few of them are winning some fairly large prize pools based on last night.”

You push on his chest to get yourself far enough to throw him an incredulous look. “A prize pool? Like a betting pot?”

Grinning as he snuggles into the pillow, the look he gives you is almost dreamy. “The greatest ‘will they or won’t they’ so I’ve heard. I suspect you’ve made quite a few maids happy.” He pauses to stretch, deeming it time to finally get out of bed. “It would not be the first time I’ve caught wind of my employees making bets upon my personal life. I suspect there will be a new bet soon enough.”

You don’t even want to begin thinking of what the staff could possibly be making bets on, knowing that it would never spell any good for you. Clutching your sheets to your chest, you watch as Zenos swings his legs out the bed, unbothered by his nudity at all. Your eyes immediately latch onto the sight of his ass, hand itching to release the bed sheet you hang onto so dearly and slap his backside much like he did to yours last night.

“I think you left your robe in the, uh, bathroom.” You cough, quickly averting your eyes as he circles the bed to go retrieve his silk robe. Now that he’s at least got some cover, it's far easier to look at his face, though that seems to only get your heart racing. “I will meet you in the gym, as usual.”

“Of course.” He purrs, giving you a sultry look as he makes his way toward the door. Pausing, he tosses you a smirk over his shoulder. “Though, feel free to let me know if we need to cancel today. I will be more than understanding if you find yourself unable to walk.”

You sit there gaping like a fish before your mind can formulate a response, cursing his name as you toss a pillow at the door just as it shuts. Grabbing another pillow you scream into it in frustration, legs kicking as you try to calm down. If he was going to be this egotistical every time you slept with him, you’d honestly just stop altogether.

Once you’ve calmed down, you sigh and finally roll out of bed yourself. Heading to the bathroom, you head to the shower to turn it on, spinning around immediately to make sure the door to your bedroom is locked this time. Your thighs are still sticky and gross from your all night session with your boss, and you can already hear Y’shtola’s judgemental sigh of disapproval.

With the water nice and hot, you step inside and release a blissful sigh, all the aches and pains and a certain soreness melting away. Hopefully it would be just another day sitting at the office as Zenos signed papers and made phone calls, giving you time to rest after he saw fit to nearly kill you with pleasure the night prior.

Now alone, you allow yourself to actually reflect on last night, the spray of the water putting you in a trance as it takes you back to your time with Zenos. His hands on you, almost worshipping your body, the surety of how he handled you as if he already knew how you liked it. The way he looked into your eyes as he sheathed himself inside you, as if you were the only person who ever mattered to him.

You wondered if he even knew what he was doing, knew the weight of his gestures, his staring, and how it was terrible for your heart.

There was not a shadow of a doubt that Estinien wanted to be more than friends with benefits; that he genuinely cared for you romantically, and wanted to give you more than just a sparring session on the weekend occasionally sprinkled with sex. Estinien was a man who deserved far more than just a weekend fling and a tussle in the sheets because you were too afraid to confront your feelings about your boss.

But now that you’ve also done the deed with Zenos, where did this leave you? Zenos couldn’t possibly be looking for anything such as commitment; in fact, you’re positive he’d laugh in your face for suggesting such an idea. But his feelings of possession were so strong you knew if you even dared to pursue anything permanent with Estinien, Estinien’s life would be forfeit.

Telling Estinien to back off for his own safety would be the proper thing to do, were you not trying to protect him from the son of a mafia boss.

With your thoughts getting nowhere fast, you decide it’s best to stop thinking about it, at least for now. Turning off the shower, you hop out to go and dress for the day, deciding to actually take Zenos up on canceling training.

A decision you would come to immediately regret.

“You want me to what?”

“I don’t believe I hesitated.” Varis sighs, flashing his son a bored look. Zenos, however, looks absolutely livid. “You will be shadowing me today.”

“But I am your son’s bodyguard! His!” You insist, resisting the urge to stamp your foot. “I told you that if I was looking to change my career path, I would talk to you!”

“I am not only your employer, but also the face of the company, I get to make the executive decision of overriding my son’s wishes of keeping you.” Varis replies in that even tone despite his son looking like he’s ready to slice his head clean from his shoulders. “I believe the two of you are in need of...some time apart.” He huffs distastefully, giving his son a once over. “Really, boy. A plethora of women to use at your leisure and you choose...the help.”

Zenos doesn’t back down, stepping to where he’s eye to eye with his father. “And you constantly choose to take things from me.”

Varis gives a slight shrug of his shoulders, crossing his hands behind his back. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have such refined tastes. I deserve only the best, and if I must take it from you, so be it.” Side stepping Zenos, Varis heads for the door. “Livia will be your bodyguard for the time being. Honey, come along.”

Glancing between Varis’ retreating form and Zenos, you can only give Zenos a worried look, though for him or for yourself, you are unsure. Deciding to just deal with it, you follow Varis out the door, becoming his shadow. A bunch of questions lie on the tip of your tongue, but you decide it is best to lie in wait and speak until spoken to for fear of saying the wrong thing or revealing something accidentally.

Opening the car door, Varis steps inside, taking a seat. Before you can make a move to shut the door and head for the passenger side, his hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

Frowning, you answer him simply. “To sit in the front seat.”

“And can you protect my life effectively in the front seat?” He asks, tugging surprisingly hard to pull you face first into the car. Quickly gaining your bearings, you sit up right, closing the door as gracefully as possible.

Unable to hold back any longer, you glare at him. “Why are you doing this?” You ask, though it comes out more like a demand. Varis however, looks undeterred by your hostility, crossing one leg over the other, steepling his fingers together in his lap as is his habit.

“As I had said before, savages should breed with savages.” He replies with a roll of his eyes, the action only making you angrier.

“Is this really about me fucking your son?” You can’t bring yourself to care about your cover when this monster has little care for your privacy. At this point, you’re surprised how he hasn’t found out you’re a cop yet for how fucking nosy he’s been.

“It is. I had hired a bodyguard to protect his image. Not to be a bedmate.” He sniffs, looking down his nose at you. You hardly feel the car pull away from the estate as he continues, “I was willing to look the other way if was to be a ‘one night stand’ as it were, but clearly I must keep you apart.”

You can feel the leather squeak and stretch under your grip as your nails bite into the seat, teeth clenched together as you are floored by the sheer audacity of this man. “And what about all that talk of ‘wanting the best’? Did you lie to your own son?”

“I have never lied to him. I have never needed to.” He huffs, relaxing fully now that you have exited the grounds. “I have never feared my son for despite his monstrous nature, I know he will never turn against me. I instilled in him since birth that we deserve only the finer things in life, but myself most of all. After all, it is due to my own work that he can live the lifestyle he craves.”

Confusion stills your anger for a moment, and you get the sinking feeling of something deeper running between father and son. “W-What do you mean?”

“Really, savage, do you think Zenos could live the way his heart desires as a common citizen?” Varis scoffs, once again rolling his eyes. “He cannot kill me, for once he does, his ability for The Hunt as he calls it, ends. All of my primary assets such as the company will belong to him upon my death, but for our more...underhanded dealings, they will remain out of his grip. I know he would only squander what I had worked so hard to build.”

Letting that sink in, you find that your anger has left you entirely, replaced entirely be sheer disbelief. “Do you...do you even love your son?”

Varis arches a single brow. “Why would I?”

What you had prayed was one day had turned into two, into four, into one week, into two weeks. Everyday, you woke at dawn, no longer allowed to train with Zenos, instead forced to do your morning exercises outside despite the temperature steadily dropping as autumn slowly took its hold on the city. Zenos had seemed to be sent out of the house more often as well, always doing his father’s bidding. What glimpses you caught of him were few, and when you did meet his eyes, they were so emotionless it broke your heart.

Being Varis’ bodyguard was every bit demanding as Zenos had warned it would be, your body exhausted from the first day alone. Everyone who was not Varis himself was seen as beneath him, and therefore subject to do anything he asked. From the most outrageous such as dislocating the wrist of a new subordinate who had forgot to address him “properly”, to simply pouring a fresh cup of coffee if his current one had gotten too cold for his liking.

Varis’ hours were not nearly as late as Zenos’ , meaning you got the chance to have more sleep, for what good it did you. As soon as you were finished with dinner, you would rush to your room and jot down notes about Varis that could hopefully be used against him in court. Miserable as you were, you had to remind yourself this was the chance you were looking for, no matter how much you hated it. You had learned Varis had little to do with his own gang, seeing fit to delegate others to handle matters for him and punishing them for their failures. It was a blessing in disguise that you at least did not have to go out and maim lesser gangs for no reason, but that did not make things you had seen any less horrifying.

Some days it seemed like Varis was trying to impress you, occasionally slipping you fine things such as a pocket watch glittering with diamonds, or treating you to lavish lunches with only you and him seated at a table. While disgusted, you knew there was nothing you could do to get out of this situation, sitting awkwardly as he would ramble on how he grew to be so successful. You couldn’t understand what he could possibly be trying to impress you for, seeing as he had split you and Zenos apart since you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

Seeming to realize that his usual methods of impressing women were failing, Varis decided to be awfully cryptic about his plans for this night.

“You’re showing me...what exactly?” You ask, the city streets far behind you as you once again enter a more suburban part of town. The sight is much more familiar than the sprawling gardens and three story mansions you’ve gotten used to since the start of this job.

“I realized that perhaps my prowess would not truly dawn on you until I had shown you something much more...substantial.” Varis hums, a smirk on his face as the car pulls toward an unknown road.

Something in your gut tells you that whatever he is about to show you is going to make you sick. “And what would that be?”

Chuckling darkly, he pins you with a fierce look. “I think I will let it speak for itself.”

The road quickly turns into rocky gravel, and despite you riding in a luxury car, you hardly feel a change in the terrain. Tall trees begin to sprout up all around you, the sinking feeling in your gut growing deeper as you wonder if maybe Varis has finally found out you’re a spy and is here to kill you.

Coming around the bend, a massive warehouse sits alone in the forest, seemingly abandoned but you noticed that every single window is blacked out. It is strangely lacking in cars, and yet you see a smoke stack that is huffing out chemicals just fine. Looking around, you notice a handful of black vans, their windows tinted so darkly, that no one would be able to tell if there were any passengers. A large wire fence surrounds the entire compound, taking notice that while it seems pretty shady at first glance, taking a closer look you can spy armed guards around the perimeter.

The car is allowed through the gate without being made to stop, the driver pulling up to the closest door. Parking the car, the chauffeur shuffles out and hurries to open your door, clearing his throat when you don’t realize you had been staring for far too long. Scrambling out the car, Varis elegantly steps out behind you, placing a hand on your back far too low for comfort. “Come. Let me show you just how powerful I really am.”

Clamping down on your instinct to dig your heels into the dirt, you allow Varis to nudge you forward, his hand on your back the entire way as the door opens before you. Cold air sweeps over your face, your eyes struggling to adjust to the incredibly low light of the first room. Stepping in, you notice a small receptionist window to the side, Varis standing before it and giving a small nod to the man inside. A loud buzz sounds as well as the sound of several latches unlocking, and an armed guard opens the steel door before you.

Nudging you forward again, you pass through, the door immediately slamming shut behind the two of you. You find yourself at the base of metal stairs that lead to a walk way that circle the perimeter of the warehouse. A pungent smell fills your nose, smelling similar to ceruleum, but worse. Gasping you watch as a handful of workers tend to multiple machines, and truly take note of how large the warehouse -- no -- factory, really is. It expands further underground, huge vats of boiling, blue liquid swirling below you.

“Welcome, to the Aetherochemical Research Facility.” Varis takes the lead by heading up the stairs, and you follow close behind, the guard following right behind you.

“Aetherochemical…?” You ask, unable to take your eyes away from the sight. The employees working the machines are dressed from head to toe in hazmat suits, goggles reflecting the flames.

“There are strange forces at work in this world, Honey.” Varis begins with no small amount of dramatic flair. “Things that should be impossible, that are written off as happenstance. Luck. The universe at work, and so on and so forth.” As you walk along the balcony, you notice toward the higher rungs of the factory there seems to be a set of assembly lines, whatever substance that lay in the goo being deposited into cube shape moulds and sent down the line. “When I was young, being a child of Garlemald, my family had written off such things. After all, our ancestors were never able to use magic compared to myths of other races, and thus, did we write off its existence entirely.”

He pauses to face you, giving you a triumphant smile. “But I knew better.”

Turning back toward the assembly line, he gestures to two of the large cauldrons holding the mystery goo. “Within these vats is a substance once thought impossible. One comprised entirely of aether.”

Confused and concerned, you take a closer look, noting that it does have an unnatural shine to it. “Aether…?” You prompt, grabbing onto the railing to steady yourself.

“Believe it or not, our world is composed of a thing called aether. It is in the very air, the earth, the water. It controls all living things. Ancient legends from savage cultures say that once we pass from this world, our bodies become the aether we once were, and our souls return to something called the Lifestream.” He continues on, resuming his walk further down the balcony. “Unfortunately, due to the lack of research, harnessing its capabilities is still near impossible. The forebears of savages did not think to document their magics and manipulation of aether, and thus, have I had to do everything from scratch.”

Unsure what to say, you swallow thickly, trying your best to look even slightly in awe. “This is...more impressive than I first thought.”

He buys the bait, and you swear you can see his chest puff out the teeniest bit. “It is good that you think so. It is my life’s work.”

Try as you might, you cannot stop yourself from needing to know more. “This...aether. Are you turning into a fuel source? Or something else?”

Varis gives a single chuckle at that, golden eyes pinning you fiercely. “That is classified.”

Nodding, you turn back to the scene before you, feeling as if you stand at the feet of something far greater than the police force could have ever realized. “If that is so, why tell me all this?”

It is silent for a moment, until you hear him approach you once again. His features are that much harsher in this dark factory, making him look truly vile.

“Because it would mean nothing to me to simply kill you if anyone found out.” He answers lowly, face relaxing for a moment. “Though I trust it will not come to that. You are a force of nature, Honey.” Reaching for your hair, he takes a strand of it between two fingers, much like he had when you first met him. “One I hope to claim for myself.”

#FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #zenos yae galvus #zenos #THP

[starcunning]

This Beast That Rends Me: 5 Apr

Hi I obliterated my word count target for the day but I still wish I could have done more. See you tomorrow!

Previously: 1 Apr, 2 Apr, 3 Apr, 4 Apr

Chapter Three

The sky—her sliver of it, anyway—was leaden gray in the morning. Her calves ached, a bone-deep feeling that satisfied more than troubled her, but stretching took most of it away. There was a carafe of coffee awaiting her on the table, and propped against it an envelope of vellum. Both were black.

Shasi poured herself a mug, tail twitching behind her as she drank, and then she took the envelope and turned it over in her hands. The seal on the back was gold wax, stamped with a pair of scales. That didn’t surprise her, but she finished her coffee first.

Lieutenant Kilntreader, the letter inside read, Under most circumstances even results would not spare you the indignity of a court-martial, but Ul’dah has done enough harm to the name of the Scions. So says the Sultana, who has ever counted you a friend. If I were you, I would do nothing that would jeopardize that friendship, nor the friendship between Ul’dah and Ala Mhigo, even with our home restored to us.

Although we have declared a general moratorium on your briefings, you should be permitted to know this: the interim leadership council of Ala Mhigo has been selected. It is their intent to serve the will of the people—the same people Zenos yae Galvus kept beneath his heel. That he yet lives is not common knowledge, or there would be rioting in the streets. Learn what you can from him, but do not expect him to survive.

Included is a questionnaire on matters of critical import. Of especial interest are the “Populares” mentioned in your conversation with Urianger Augurelt. You may submit your report in writing. You are under no circumstances to break the terms of your sequester; the Echo is the only thing that keeps you on an even footing with him, but its unpredictable nature precludes your contact with anyone holding sensitive knowledge.

I trust you will remember what it is to serve.

For Coin and Country, General Aldynn

Shasi frowned, flipping through the pages of the questionnaire, committing them to memory. The room felt cool, and she shivered. Whatever relief was to be found in Raubahn’s letter, it was tempered by a sense of foreboding. But this was the bargain she’d struck, and now had to fulfill. She could delay it a while—another cup of coffee, and then she’d make ready for the day and go find a megalith board—but X’shasi had learned better than to think she could shirk her own destiny.

She could smell the petrichor from the menagerie even within the glass walls of the greenhouse, a few of the windows canted so that the air might circulate. She had dressed more formally, in a coat of slate blue and dark trousers—there had been, for a moment, the temptation to come in uniform, but that had seemed unwise. The game board was folded under one arm, tucked against her elbow.

The Viceroy’s head was already turned toward the entryway as she approached, and the lift of his chin betrayed his attentiveness, but when he rose he did not look directly at her. He loaned his robe an air of formality despite the simplicity of his garb: the same indigo yukata she had seen him in weeks before.

“Eikon-slayer,” he greeted her. ���Viceroy,” she said in turn. “No,” he said, “you have taken that from me.” “What should I call you, then?” Shasi asked. “As my friend, you might call me Zenos. Come,” he said, “sit.”

The table was set below a chandelier of crystal. With no candles, it simply refracted what light it could snatch from the air around them; in the wanness of the morning it was little enough. He waited for her to sit first, and she found herself recalling he was royalty after all, and schooled in some manner of courtly graces.

“You found one,” he said as she set the megalith set between them. “I had to bribe a quartermaster,” she said with a sly little smile. “Somehow I doubt that.” She turned it around on the table, lifting the latch on one side to open the casing. “They’re all Ul’dahn, don’t you know.” He regarded her a moment, and as she laid the case open to reveal the pieces stowed away, he plucked one up, running a nail over the carved stone. “Aren’t you?” “Yes,” she said, sorting them by color. “And no. I was born in the mountains of Gyr Abania, but I barely remember it. Then it was southern Thanalan, but I don’t recall that either. Perhaps my memories are hazy enough that it all looks the same to me.”

She pushed the marble pieces across the table at him, flipping the case over to reveal the playing board of inlaid stone on the other side. “I thought you would play light,” he said with a tight little smile. “I thought you might like to represent the ivory standard,” she countered. His laughter filled the airy room then. “Perhaps I might. Well,” he said. “Your Princeps goes here, on his own color.” He set the piece in place with a decisive motion.

Soon, the board had been arranged, and the pieces and their movements explained.

“White plays first,” Zenos told her, those long fingers plucking up a piece to advance. “Just as well,” Shasi laughed. “Is that how you see it? Is acting not better than reacting?” Shasi could only shrug at that, tentatively moving one of her pieces in turn. “You know the game better than I. At least I have the benefit of observation.” He shook his head, that smile still tugging at his lips. “Eventually, observation and reaction can carry you no further, and you must round on your foe and act,” he said, removing a piece from the board. “But you know this already, eikon-slayer.” “I thought we were friends. Zenos.” “It is a compliment,” he said. “In its way.” “From the rest of the Empire I might believe that,” Shasi agreed, propping her chin on a loosely curled fist. “Not from me?” “I don’t think it impresses you overmuch,” she told him. “Don’t overextend,” he told her. “You’ve left your castrum vulnerable. When did you come to Ul’dah?” “As a girl,” Shasi said. “I was perhaps five summers old then.” “With your tribe?” “No,” she said. “Why do you want to know?” “Call it a personal curiosity,” Zenos told her, leaning in to move a piece across the board. “You must have a curiosity of your own,” he said. “Several,” she said, capturing one of his flanking pieces and plucking it from its place. “What do you know about the Populares?” “I said ‘of your own,’ he reminded her. “This one, I think, comes by way of your Scions.” “Perhaps,” she said, “but I have a personal interest. We know of the Empire by their exclaves—the castra that Gaius van Baelsar established after the Calamity, and the provinces you have conquered. I have only the smallest inkling of what the heart of it is. It snows there?” “Often,” he agreed. “The winters there are bitter. Exile was bitterer.” “Like Ishgard?” she wondered. “Coerthas was blanketed in snow after the Calamity, but Garlemald has always been swathed in white,” he said, moving his Princeps back to a more fortified position.

“I have to give them something,” Shasi said, “and I do want to know.” He sighed. “The Populares are exactly what their name implies,” he told her, watching as she picked off one of his supporting pieces. “They are populists. My great-uncle was their champion. Whether they survived him I couldn’t say. It seems unlikely any would reveal themselves to me.” “Because you are your father’s son?” “Am I?” he asked, fixing her with a tight lipped smile. He drummed his fingers against the board. “He never seemed to think so. Because I am a Legatus, X’shasi. A military man. So yes, in that, I am Varis’s son. I am Solus zos Galvus’s great-grandson. They concern themselves more with internal matters than conquest, so I am beyond the remit of their trust.” Shasi heard the regret in his tone, and told him so: “So perhaps Varis was not wrong to doubt your loyalties. What could they offer you?” “He was,” Zenos said, snatching back one of his pieces angrily. “It was van Baelsar’s journals that changed my mind, and I did not read those until I arrived here.” “What was in them?” Shasi wondered. “A great deal,” he said. “Half a decade’s observations of Eorzea. His collaboration with the last ‘Warrior of Light.’ Musings on the primals,” he said, nudging a piece into place. “And you.” That surprised her, and she looked up into his face. He was smiling at her, an indulgent sort of expression. He continued: “He admired you, in a way. I suppose he would have made you regent. It would have made things much simpler, don’t you think?”

“That’s not something the Populares could offer you,” she said, feeling her jaw tighten. “No, but they could have offered it to you,” he said. “An end to Garlean expansionism? A different approach to the problem of the eikons? Tell me that holds no appeal for you.” “I don’t think you’re so terribly opposed to your empire’s expansion,” she said mildly, pressing forward to take another piece. “No more than you are opposed to Lominsan expansionism,” he agreed. He must have seen how it stung her, for he lifted his fingers from the piece he had been toying with and made a less threatening move instead.

A less obviously threatening one, anyway.

“So now you know something to tell your masters.” “Later,” she said. “I did promise. And if it had been any less dire a portent before, I would not have gone then.” “This Elidibus occupies you greatly,” he noted, lifting one of his discarded Legatii to examine its form. “Are you afraid of him?” Shasi swallowed, glad his gaze was elsewhere. “Yes,” she said. “You never seemed to fear me.” “No,” she agreed. “I knew your reputation ere ever you came to Rhalgr’s Reach, as it seems you knew mine, but even then … I was not afraid.” “You knew me,” he said flatly. “My mentor had spoken of you, once or twice. As a thing of unholy terror. But … it was not so long before that I chanced to see myself through another’s eyes, and I was no less a horror than as had been described.” He chuckled, a low, rolling purr that seemed to spill over the table between them. “So you were not afraid because you thought you had my measure, as I was sure I had yours.” “No, I was not afraid because I wanted to take your measure,” she said, darting a piece forward with a small smile. “Why not take his?” Zenos wondered. “He’s an emissary,” she told him. “I could no sooner harm him than, say, a prisoner of war.” “A pity,” Zenos said, plucking up one of her pieces to set his down in the square. “I have you,” he told her. “No, you don’t,” she said, diverting a piece to her defense. He looked at her a long moment, a crooked smile upon his features. “So your hands are bound,” he said. “Little as I like it,” Shasi shrugged. His smile only broadened. He leaned in, took her castrum, and set a fingertip to the crown of her Emperor. “I have you,” he reiterated, and toppled the piece.

Shasi cursed. “Well, I suppose at least I have the comfort of knowing you weren’t holding back.” “Have I ever?” he asked. “Dine with me tonight. That seems an appropriate forfeit.” “I didn’t know we were dictating terms,” she said. “What if I’d rather write a letter to my masters, as you so disdainfully call them?” He pouted, an oddly boyish expression bereft of the anger she had expected. “How disappointing,” he said. She looked at him, reaching down to roll the Emperor beneath her fingers. “Do you know what your life is missing, Zenos?” she said. “Challenges, I should imagine,” he drawled. “Yes,” she agreed, sweeping the pieces from the board. “Just not the ones you mean.” “Oh?” “You don’t hear ‘no’ nearly enough,” she said, turning the board back over.

“X’shasi,” he said, reaching out to take hold of her wrist. His grasp was gentler than expected, his fingers rough with a swordsman’s calluses, but surprisingly warm. She looked down at his hand a long moment, where it lay against her skin. “Please,” he said. “Please what,” she prompted, her voice steadier than she might have feared. “Please come and dine with me this evening.” She waited, not looking up into his eyes. In the face of her indifference—feigned though it might have been—he capitulated. “Not because you owe it to me, or because I’ve won it from you. Come because it pleases you to do so.” She nodded once. “I will return for dinner,” she said. “For now I should see to other matters.” He let go of her wrist, but she lingered over the task of putting away the megalith pieces, rising only when she was sure her knees were steady.

#TBTRM #x'shasi #zenos yae galvus #wol/zenos #original content #starcunning writes

[galvus]

prompt: bow • words: 575 • era: stormblood patch content • [ masterpost ] express thanks by bending one's head respectfully.

Any attempts at fostering good will for Eorzea in Garlemald were met with failure. Each branching path came to a stop – whether that end was sudden or petered out over a matter of excruciating weeks.

She should have left the moment she was poisoned, or when she was cornered by a senator who vowed to stop her at every turn. She should have packed her bags and pleaded with Varis for a way home the moment his son threatened her with hearsay that could have torn her campaign to shreds in an instant.

A year and a half passed before she finally gave up.

She stood at the edge of her bed with an open suitcase laid out in front of her. Silver-trimmed robes were folded and placed atop the layer of books she'd brought from home. Scattered over the top was a handful of tiny knick-knacks she'd collected while living in Garlemald, including a paper weight shaped like a dove in flight and a fountain pen that sat beside the wax melting spoons her father had given her before leaving.

Behind her was Varis, standing closer to the door than to her. Never before had she seen him look so unsure. It ached, seeing such a look on his face.

“I failed,” Bianca said simply.

She found that she spoke those words with unexpected ease. It likely had something to do with how often she repeated them in her head.

Her smile was tight. “I wish I could have done more.”

“You did everything that you could,” he said. She didn't know if it was true, but she still longed to believe that she had done everything she was capable of doing. “Perhaps it was a foolish errand, but not entirely worthwhile.”

Bianca looked up at him, her hands curling around the flimsy fabric of a slip.

“If things had been different,” … if the blood hadn't already dried... “do you believe I might have made an impact?”

Before she could open her mouth to ask another ridiculous question, Varis was there, standing right in front of her. He rarely acted on impulse, but she could see from the surprised glint in his eyes that he certainly had. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if even his body was struggling with the indecision.

He didn't reach out. He didn't bring her flush to his chest. He didn't kiss her – not her forehead, not her cheek, not her lips.

“You already have,” he murmured.

And then, he bowed at the waist, a fall of flaxen blonde hair spilling over his shoulder to hang in front of him. Even bent in half, he was as tall as she was, perhaps inches taller. He lifted his chin and peered at her, his eyes nearly lost in the half-dark of an Ilsabardian evening.

It was Bianca who reached forward.

Her fingertips brushed over his cheek before following the soft, parallel lines of a lock of his hair. She stepped even closer to him, near enough to feel the warmth of his shadow.

“Will we be back to being enemies?” she asked.

The confidence bled from her voice, leaving nothing more than a question as delicate as porcelain. All it would take was a gentle nudge for it to shatter.

Varis did not push.

He kissed her, briefly, gently enough to keep her in one piece.

“No,” he assured her, and it sounded like a vow.

#ffxivwrite2021 #varis zos galvus #variswol #type: ffxivwrite #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: writing

[galvus]

prompt: devil’s advocate • words: 290 • era: stormblood • [ masterpost ] a person who expresses a contentious opinion in order to provoke debate or test the strength of the opposing arguments.

The members of Garlean's senate were old.

And stubborn.

And gods, they were impossibly petty, locked in their ways and unwilling to so much as budge in the direction of understanding.

“I warned that they would be difficult to charm,” Varis murmured from the high-backed chair that stood beside the fireplace in his private study. It was a massive metal structure, simple in a way that stood in stark opposite to the ornate carvings that often decorated them back in Eorzea. His forefinger scrolled idly through the document she'd provided him, the white screen of his tomestone reflecting in his glasses.

Bianca stood up straighter.

“You were right. They are difficult to persuade,” she said, her lips curling tightly around the word. Charm sounded so condescending.

It sounded like them.

“Or, perhaps, they are right in their disapproval of these radical ideas that you have.” Varis gestured at her with the tomestone before returning to his reading. “You have grown more confident of late.”

“More—” Disbelief rang through her. She pulled in a slow breath. She held it. She let it go, slowly, through her nose. “No. I w won't do it. I will not take your bait.”

In the warm glow of the fire, she caught a glimpse of Varis's mouth curling into a half-smile. There were buttons he seemed intent on pressing, arguments he seemed intent on starting. After months in Garlemald, she was tired of talking her throat raw, and she was even more tired of Varis encouraging her in this manner.

“Clever,” the emperor mused, passing her the tomestone before leaning back into his chair. “Do not rise to their bait, either.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat.

“It has been rancid for some years.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #type: ffxivwrite #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: writing

[galvus]

prompt: preaching to the choir • words: 776 • era: stormblood patch content • [ masterpost ] to speak for or against something to people who already agree with one's opinions.

One marked difference between Varis zos Galvus and his son was that he paced rather than prowled. His movements were sharp and precise, turning with a thoughtless flourish of his cape as he turned to cross the throne empty throne room for the nineteenth time.

Every time Bianca caught a glimpse of his face, she saw that he wore a different expression. His brow furrowed. His mouth turned sharply downward in a grimace. Once, she caught a flicker of fear in his eyes – clear, even though she stood so far away. He murmured under his breath as he crossed before his throne again and again, his eight foot tall figure seeming almost minuscule beneath the chamber's vaulted ceiling and the raised dais upon which the throne sat empty.

The red carpeting blotted out the heavy falls of his feet, leaving her to listen to the distinct hum of the palace and the quiet rustle of fabric.

She stood in place as she ran through the day's events in her own mind. Her hands twisted where they hung in front of her lap, as if she could wring out answers from her own fingertips. In her few years working towards peace with Garlemald, she had never seen a more catastrophic failure.

Seeing the faces of her former companions and comrades staring across at her in horror as Varis unveiled his hand was enough to burrow a hole into her belly for her heart to slip through as it sank down and down and down.

To call the parlay a failure would be a lesson in understatement.

“Varis—”

The emperor's dogged path across the room stopped short the moment he heard his name, and he twisted around, casting his cloak aside with a pointed sweep on his arm. Weariness clung to his face. It aged him in ways she understood – with smears of purple under his eyes, a drawn mouth, colorless and narrowed cheeks.

Weeks of preparation had been dashed the moment he sat down in that damned room. Weeks of close work with Bianca, making note of the other leaders' wishes and formulating compromises that might finally lead to freedom for them all. Weeks, days, hours, minutes — burned, right in front of their eyes, as if they had been nothing more than a meaningless blur.

“Varis, we will need to discuss what—”

“I do not know what happened.”

While she'd almost found herself anticipating those words, they were still shaped like a knife. A quiet sound left her in her surprise, torn halfway between a gasp and a whine.

Varis rushed to Bianca's side in an instant. He curled over her as both of his massive hands rested on her shoulders, and she saw the lines on his face softened, as his eyes lost all of their fear only to be replaced with a shining concern... for both of them.

“I possess only vague remembrances of the parlay,” he continued, a neediness to console or communicate his innocence to her overtaking any urge to isolate. One hand shifted to lay halfway up the curve of her neck. “It is as if I stood watch over the happenings rather than taking any part of them. I...”

He swallowed hard, the words stalling in his throat.

“It was.” A pause, a inhale of breath that sounded as if it ached. “Not.” Another, longer break, his fingers curling almost painfully tight around her shoulders. “Me.”

When he looked at her, his brows pinched sharply upwards.

He was pleading with her, she realized. He desperately wanted her to understand... or maybe to have recognized that as true even before he had.

“I know that it wasn't you,” Bianca murmured. One of her small hands cupped the curve of his jaw, the warmth of his skin sinking into her own on contact. “I know.”

Even in the shadow of his body, the relief that washed over him was evident in everything.

“I swear. It was not me.”

“I know, Varis,” she pressed. “It wasn't you. I know what sort of man you are, and you are not the sort of man to sabotage something that could be beneficial to your people. Or mine.”

The emperor tucked a curled forefinger beneath her chin to tip her head even farther upwards. She craned her neck back for him. The last thing either of them needed was a disconnect. They needed something to ground them, to hold them still as the present ran out ahead of them both in a frenetic and fearful blur.

And they needed to fix this.

Together.

They knew the truth. They were the only two who did.

#ffxivwrite2021 #varis zos galvus #variswol #type: ffxivwrite #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: writing

[galvus]

prompt: oneirophrenia • words: 639 • era: stormblood • [ masterpost ] a hallucinatory state that is caused by such conditions as prolonged sleep deprivation, sensory isolation, and drug use.

The illness stole into the Empire quickly and quietly and only to those not of pure Garlean blood.

One morning, Bianca rose for another day of an endless cycle of long meetings and even longer recesses as a handful of Garlean sentors continued striving against her work. Her breakfast was simple, but well-made. She ate in the library as she often did, pouring over books she had no access to back home in Gridania, paying more mind to her meal than the words.

She met with Claudius het Maecenus sometime before noon to discuss how the recent events in Gyr Abania had impacted the public's opinion of Eorzeans. There was much information to be shared, but as she made her notes following the meeting, she found herself stumbling over her thoughts.

They raced in jagged, uneven lines, chasing each other in a manner that was frustratingly unhelpful. What she could remember, she scribbled down.

By that night, Bianca couldn't get out of bed.

No matter how much she struggled to stand, something dragged her back down onto the sweat-stained sheets and held her there. Without the strength to stand, she attempted healing herself to seemingly no avail.

Three missed meetings was enough to get the attention of the guard offered to her upon arriving to the Empire. Mina checked in on her... and immediately departed upon seeing the diplomat's state. The sudden, sharp turn did nothing to assuage Bianca's fears of this being little more than a cold.

She lingered without having any choice in the matter, staring up at the beveled texture of the ceiling and straining to keep from paying any mind to the plentiful aches, the nausea, the weariness that seemed to gnaw at her limbs.

A medicus arrived soon after, administering a simple shot and explaining the effect the medicine might have on her body.

The words were garbled. His mouth opened to explain again when she asked, but water spilled from his mouth and splashed over his lap. His uniform soaked up what it could, leaving the rest to accumulate under the chair he'd pulled up to discuss the situation with her. She caught few words among the torrent, as he leaned over even farther and let gallons of the same river water gush out of his mouth.

It pooled all around her, threatening drowning. Her body swayed as if caught on a current.

Bianca sucked in a terrified gasp.

A heavy,  dreamless sleep overtook her, forcing her down into a feverish darkness without any apparent route towards freedom. She took in the black, hoping that the depths of the dark would comfort her, but anxiety tickled her throat, turned her stomach. She lost herself in it until there was nothing left to hold onto.

The sun was up by the time she opened her eyes, though the world was no more coherent than it had been the last time.

Colors blurred. The face of the man beside her bed was made of nothing more than shapes and runny smears of gold and cream. He was massive, but not frightening. She opened her mouth to ask him who he was.

The weight of his hand on her brow shut her eyes, and sleep nearly pulled her under again.

Nearly.

He spoke. She did not hear the gurgling rush of water. Instead, his voice was low and rumbling, too quiet for her to make out any more than a few words. Aether was first. Unfortunate was the second, spoken more tightly than the first.

“I want...”

Bianca's voice broke. She turned towards the voice, pressing her damp brow into the warm curve of the man's palm.

She swallowed; it was dry, but not impossible to speak.

“I want to help.”

And again, she heard him. This time, as clear as bell: “I know you do.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #type: ffxivwrite #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: writing

[galvus]

prompt: crane • words: 467 • era: shadowbringers patch content • [ masterpost ] stretch out one's body or neck in order to see something. Dawn's Respite smelled of herbaceous, freshly made salves and the acidic bite of cleansing solutions, of scrubbed linens, of cleaned away sick and cooling meals on simple trays. There was a hint of soap, closer than all the rest – clove and musk, with a hint of orange flower. The scent was familiar. Bianca's nose twitched even before her eyes opened. It was the sound of a caught breath at her bedside that encouraged her to do just that, blinking up into the warm glow of lamplight that circled the chamber.

That same lamplight made a shadow of Varis's face, but she knew it belonged to him for a scattered handful of reasons. The scent he wore was one she'd often picked out for him to wear. His shoulders were broader than anyone else she knew, his torso longer, causing him to cast a comforting shadow across her face when he leaned forward. And the hand he laid upon her cheek was smooth and warm and littered with worn calluses. Bianca leaned sharply against his palm, even before she entirely felt beholden to her own body. She might have been clumsy. She might have gotten sick right into his lap. She might have fainted the moment she first stirred. But after a few weeks spent abed and years spent away from him in the First, the choice was an obvious one. “Be careful,” Varis warned her in a careful tone, but she didn't have it in her to listen. Just this once. Curling over onto her side, Bianca arched her neck to press her lips to the skin of his hand, laying a dozen desperate kisses from his wrist to the tips of his fingers. Relief surged through her, running rampant through her, unwilling to be slowed. With each kiss, she pressed closer and closer to him, a glimmer of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “Bianca,” he murmured. All firmness bled from his voice, and it instead welcomed in a sweetened note that made her heart beat painfully hard. “Be careful.” Her kisses slowed, and she let go of a tired sigh as her time away from her body finally caught up with her. “I couldn't be happier to see you.” She shut her eyes, burying her upturned nose into the comforting cup of his palm. The fingers of his other hand slipped easily into her hair. “I heard what you did... and where we are. Thank you.” “It was the least I could do.” The words didn't smack of truth, knowing what had happened to bring the Garlean emperor to Mor Dhona. She did not have the means to understand the price saving her life, but she knew that it would be steep... and that he had paid the toll without thinking twice.

#ffxivwrite2021 #varis zos galvus #variswol #type: ffxivwrite #oc: bianca #ch: varis zos galvus #ship: varis x bianca #mine: writing #drops little canon divergent treats into your hands #i really want to write this longfic ughhh #@ my hands: please god

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch.1 - Code Name: Warrior of Light

Rating: E/NC-17 Pairing: M/F - Zenos/WoL Cross posted on AO3 ===========================================================

There was no city more beautiful than Kugane. It’s towers touched the heavens, it’s streets flourishing with wealth and life and love.

It’s gutters, riddled with crime.

This wasn’t to say that Kugane was riddled with mere petty theft. It had its fair share of murderers, robbers, arsonists.

But one stood out from them all.

His name was Varis zos Galvus.

A crime boss in every sense of the word, a man revered as one of the city’s richest businessmen, with no clue to his underhanded dealings. If organized crime ever needed a definition, his face would fit the bill. The police force had tried to put an end to his drug ring for years; but any witness would mystically vanish. He infuriated your higher ups for his knowing smirk as time after time he was cleared of all charges, the police unable to find a single scrap of evidence to pin to him, as if he was water.

His continued reign over the crime underworld was pushing the police to damn near desperation. Nothing seemed to work on him for he was too crafty, too clever. Any police raid on a rumored drug filled warehouse ended up with several men bumbling around to find it completely cleared. Any attempt at espionage ended in total failure, and on more than one account, the loss of a few good men.

The police were at their wits end.

“What would you have us do Merlwyb?” Raubahn groans, scratching a large hand on the back of his neck. He was the chief of police, decorated with more medals and awards you cared to even bother thinking about. Despite that he still remained as diligent and humble as he had when he was a rookie. “I refuse to lose anymore good men to this man. Any attempt we’ve made at him has failed. He pays his lawyers well and the judges even better for all we know. I refuse to lose any more men to this fiend.” He sighs, taking a long swig of his lukewarm coffee.

“Would you have us give up then Raubahn?” Merlwyb challenges, her eyes hard as steel and fierce. She’s as tall as Raubahn and your own police captain. “Please believe me when I say I am loathe to put anymore hard working officer’s life on the line as much as you are, but would you have us throw in the towel? Varis zos Galvus is a stain upon this city, and it will never know true peace until he is behind bars.” Merlwyb is not at all afraid of the difference in power between her and Raubahn, and in most ways they are equals. Raubahn has always shown through his actions that he values her direction and input, but it seems even he is remaining stubborn as a mule.

“What would make this time different?” Raubahn breathes, clearly stressed and doing his best to not show it. Merlwyb’s eyes soften for the smallest moment as she nears Raubahn who buries his face in his hands. 

“I know this is aggravating, Raubahn. But we can catch him. I know we can.” She murmurs softly, patting his back.

“You still have not told me how this will differ from other times, Merlwyb.” He sits back in his chair and stares up at her, meeting her gaze.

“Come in!” Merlwyb calls.

Opening the door, you step inside, feeling somewhat meek in the presence of two of your higher ups.

“We have tried undercover cops before. But I’m asking you give it one more chance. Give her one more chance.” Merlwyb urges, pleads. 

“What makes her different Merlwyb?” Raubahn’s bronze eyes stare you down, and you fight to keep your back ramrod straight. You can tell he is judging you, and you do your best to look worthy of his scrutiny.

“She can fight.” She says simply, as if that’s all the explanation needed. But she continues. “Recent intel has suggested that Varis has been training his son Zenos yae Galvus to prepare to take his place. However, there are rumors that his son cares little for his father’s dealings, and in fact only participates because he enjoys a good fight.” Merlwyb’s eyes land on you as she crosses her arms. “As fat as the Galvus line lives off their riches, their son can’t turn down a good tussle. This rookie here is by far the strongest I’ve seen in years, Raubahn.”

The chief’s eyes narrow on you impossibly further, now taking note of your muscular arms, your powerful stance. You had no doubt Raubahn could take on Zenos in a fight himself if he wasn’t the chief. “With her, we could gain the opportunity to get closer to this fiend, through his son. Her combat prowess should prove irresistible to someone even as practiced as Zenos. Raubahn, please consider,”

“All right.” He cuts off, eyes never leaving yours. “What’s your name rookie? Actually don’t tell me. You can tell me when this mission is a success.” He rumbles, sitting back in his chair. “I will give you your code name myself. I trust your captain has informed you of everything this job will entail?”

You nod silently, unsure if you should speak.

“Very well.” He stands from his chair, circling the desk to stand before you. Extending his right hand, you take it in your own, shaking it firmly. “A pleasure to meet you Warrior of Light. Let’s bring this bastard to justice.” =======================================================

With KYKM on it’s way to a close, figured I’d churn out this idea I had from FenrirPrime’s fanart of Zenos! They make a ton of cool art so I’d give them a follow  >///<. I hope it’s to everyone’s liking :D This’ll be a little small series prob 4-5 chaps long honestly unless i get some wicked ass inspo. 

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #sorry for the repost OTL #anywho more self indulgent fic pog #THP