Back from Japan and I can finally share the papercrafts I did as a surprise for two of the friends that went to Japan with me. Part of the trip was to go to the Eorzea Cafe in Akihabara, and I wanted us to be able to take our characters with us!
Originally I was going to draw something digitally, but as time before the trip drew closer, the logistics of finding time to draw and print something off was becoming more and more complicated. So! I went the traditional art route and made these instead! The characters break apart and I was able to gift everyone their character at the end.
The final image is Saphiiya, Xarann, and Ciardha's successful arrival at the Eorzea Cafe!!
Waaa that was a lot! Here's a compilation of all 30 of them including the 2 days I missed
Thank you so much for accompanying me on this journey, everyone!
Okay did one more for Ciardha this time. Ciardha is my chaos dragon man that's been cursed to live as a human due to his destructive and tyrannical behaviors and uh he got karma for it. So he travels as a human in my fantasy world to repent for his sins.
There are many ways to greet your new spouse on the wedding night.
Dubious fertility potions, coming out as gay, and attempting to come up with alternative methods of getting rid of competition are... not on the list.
Or, Runa and Ciardha’s first night together. No sex, I promise.
Will I finish this? Probably not.
[Vici is essentially a catch-all term for someone who prefers the same gender that’s used in all four countries in my crown quartet verse]
Runa followed Aoife out of the main hall and down a shadowed corridor. Her new mother in law walked with a brisk pace that forced her to hike up the hems of her wedding gown and run after her, until she almost barreled into Aoife outside of a room.
“Follow me,” Aoife instructed.
She opened the door and shut it in Runa’s face. Runa hesitated opening it. Her heart pounded with nervous anticipated of what might happen. She hadn’t liked the way Aoife had been staring at her during the feast. The intensity of one look had made Runa lose her appetite altogether toward the end of the celebration. What had she done to earn her mother in law’s enmity already? She and Ciardha were barely a few hours wed. Was it because of her father’s presence?
As she grappled with her uncertainty, Runa swore she heard his footsteps approaching. She hastily opened the door and ran inside, shutting the door behind her. The room she found herself in was small, with a single bed taking up the largest amount of space. The only source of light was the full moon shining down on the coverlet. Aoife stood on one side of the bed and beckoned Runa over. In one hand she held a vial.
“Drink this,” she ordered. She removed the wax seal and cork and thrust the vial at Runa. “It should quicken your womb and enable you to become pregnant faster.”
Runa had questions on the edge of her tongue. Why was there a heavy expectation for her and Ciardha to become parents immediately? Why this fertility potion? Why had her father stayed instead of departing for Mhoibh like he had promised?
The stench of the liquid drove all of those out of her mind.
“Drink!” Aoife hissed. “They’re coming!”
Runa flinched at her tone and grabbed the vial, choking down the contents in one swallow. Her stomach lurched and she felt bile rise to her throat.
“Listen girl,” Aoife hissed. “You must become pregnant by my son through any means possible. I will not have Aifeatas pass to one of his father’s bastards simply because one of them got a woman pregnant first.”
Runa had an overwhelming urge to vomit and shook unsteadily. But she nodded franticly.
“Good,” Aoife said. She sounded pleased. “If you manage to become pregnant tonight, it will be a joyous occasion to us all, but especially to me.”
Runa could only nod. As soon as Aoife walked past her and left the room, she knelt beside the bed and threw up into a chamber pot she pulled from underneath it.
“Did my mother give you something to drink?” a new voice asked.
Runa retched in response. The new occupant sighed.
“I’m going to hold your hair back,” they said.
Runa felt a pair of hands gently pull her hair away from her shoulders. She cringed, hoping she hadn’t vomited into the strands as she managed one last retch and coughed. She gasped for air and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, praying that her stomach settled.
“Are you done?”
The voice was male.
“C-Ciardha?” she rasped.
The stranger didn’t answer as he released her hair and walked around the bed. She heard him pour something into a cup, and then that cup was thrust into her hand.
“It’s only water. You should rinse your mouth out,” the stranger stated. He went quiet as Runa took a drink and spat into the pot. “I thought my mother wouldn’t do this…”
Ciardha. It had to be. Runa drank and spat a few more times before she was certain she’d rinsed the taste of vomit from her mouth and throat. She wordlessly passed the empty cup back to her new husband.
“Another, please,” she requested. Ciardha gingerly took the cup from her. As he refilled it, Runa got to her feet slowly and went to sit on the bed. Ciardha sat down next to her and handed the cup back to her. Runa sipped from it slowly.
“You should probably take your dress off,” Ciardha suggested.
Runa froze. She almost dropped the cup and forced herself to steady her hand.
“I don’t have any lustful intentions. I just don’t want you to lay down in a vomit covered dress.”
Runa couldn’t see in front of herself, much less look down her front. She hesitantly felt her chest and cringed. She hastily wiped her hand on her skirt.
“Do you have a knife?” she asked. “I don’t—think I’d like to touch these buttons. Unless this dress is old. Your mother told me—“
“I’ve never seen my female cousins wear it. Besides, we can burn this in the morning,” Ciardha interrupted. He sat down on the bed next to her. “Turn your back to me and move your hair.”
Runa finished her water, set the cup down on the floor, and held her hair away from her neck. She wished it was braided and pinned back, but custom dictated that all brides have loose hair on their wedding day. She felt Ciardha pull at her ruined dress experimentally, feeling the cloth on her shoulder.
“Is there a shift under here?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t have a knife on me, unfortunately. Are you all right with me ripping this off of you?”
“Do you want me to gasp out loud? Someone might be listening outside.”
“No one followed me here, and the only person I saw was my mother,” Ciardha stated. Runa felt herself lean back unexpectedly as he seized two handfuls of her dress. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt.”
Runa yelped as he tore the fabric. She felt the rip go all the way down her back, and the minute his hands were off of her she peeled the dress off from her arms. Standing up, she let the ruined garment fall to the floor. She stepped out of it and kicked it away.
“I think we’re going to have a hard time sleeping on this unless we stay absolutely still,” Ciardha remarked.
Runa turned around. He was already laying down on the bed, precariously perched on half of the mattress. There was barely enough room for her to lay down like he was, on her back and half falling off. They would both fit if one of them was on top of each other – which was probably the plan.
“I’ll try not to push you off,” she said. “Though it might be better if we were on our sides. I’d rather not fall off and hit my head.”
Ciardha became quiet. She can hear his steady breathing in the small space, and tried to not think of the possibility that there was a crowd just outside. There probably wasn’t. She was overthinking things.
Eventually, he wriggled onto the bed and rolled onto his side, facing her.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “There is more room this way. I don’t care which way you face.”
Runa finally got in the bed, and after a bit of maneuvering, ended up on her side facing away from Ciardha.
“You, um, control two territories. Where are we going to live?” she asked quietly a few minutes later.
“We’ll mostly be living here in Aifeatas,” Ciardha replied softly. “But part of the year, say winter and spring, we’ll live in Mhoibh. It was my uncle’s, he named me his heir when I was born, and I formally became its ruler when he died.”
“You speak of him like he was your own father,” Runa stated warmly.
“My father placed me in his safekeeping when I was young,” Ciardha explained. “He influenced me greatly, far better than my own father did.”
Runa had another question, but bit her lip to stop herself from saying it.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Ciardha inquired.
Runa shook her head. “N-no! It’s just…”
“You can ask me anything. I’m not your father, I’m not going to glare or judge anything you say.”
A knot Runa didn’t know she had in her gut uncurled. She took a deep breath.
“Is it true that your uncle remained a bachelor all his life? Was he vici?”
Ciardha’s face was hard to read in the semi-darkness.
“He wasn’t vici. I know that for fact. He also remained a bachelor, but only because he hated sex.”
Runa thought back to what he said earlier. How his uncle had influenced him better than his father had.
“…Are you the same way, Ciardha?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your uncle didn’t marry anyone because he didn’t like having sex.”
“I know it’s important for having children, but I don’t see the need for it. I’ve never felt any sort of romantic or sexual desire for anyone,” Ciardha confirmed. “Why? Am I upsetting you?”
“Of course not.”
“You are free to sleep with another man if you like. I won’t be hurt by it,” Ciardha said. “Just pick someone with my hair color and my height, and my mother will be none the wiser.”
“I-I don’t think I can do that.”
“Why not? Are you afraid of hurting my feelings? Or are you afraid of hurting your own feelings?”
Runa inhaled sharply. She hadn’t thought about it like that before, but—
“This is different, Ciardha,” she replied.
She felt him lean back a bit, and realized that she’d spoken more harshly than she intended.
“Ciardha, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just I’m vici. I prefer women.”
Ciardha unexpectedly rolled onto his back and covered his mouth; she felt him shake with silent laughter. Runa rolled over onto her other side, curled her hand into a fist and hit him on the shoulder.
“This isn’t funny!” she hissed. Ciardha reluctantly moved his hand away from his mouth.
“I-I’m sorry, but it is to me,” he replied. “Look at how mismatched we are! I don’t desire anyone and you desire women.”
“Just because we’re mismatched sexually doesn’t mean we can’t be friends and partners,” Runa snapped. “We are married, after all. But I’m worried about your mother hounding me about being pregnant. Can you tell me more about what’s going on with you and your bastard brothers?”
Ciardha finally sobered up and maneuvered his body to be back on his side to face her.
“You know of my bastard brothers, of course. My mother tolerated father’s affairs, up until she found out she had two more sons to raise. She wanted daughters instead—“
“But we don’t always get what we want,” Runa interrupted. “Can I hazard a guess as to why she wants me to become pregnant quickly?”
“Be my guest.”
“Orrin and Gerant are entirely attracted to women, and if one of them gets a woman pregnant first, they get the territories?” Runa guessed.
“Almost. They get Aifeatas, but I keep Mhoibh because it’s my birthright. I would like to keep both,” Ciardha stated.
“How are you going to keep both of them?”
Ciardha became quiet for several minutes. The only sound Runa could hear was his quickened breathing, born of either nervousness or fright. When he finally spoke, he sounded uncomfortable.
“If… If I have to, I’ll have sex with you and try to get you pregnant. I’m sure no one will care what gender our child is, they’ll automatically become heir or heiress,” he stated. “I have another plan to stop my brothers from impregnating some poor women just to beat me to winning Aifeatas, but I’m worried it won’t work.”
“Do you feel comfortable discussing it with me?” Runa asked. “Your second plan, I mean.”
“Do you promise to not tell anyone here?”
“I promise. You’re the only person I’ll speak of it to.”
Ciardha took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“I have informants in the territories Orrin and Gerant frequent, who send me reports of the women they’ve bedded and which ones might be pregnant. On the next full moon, when they both come to Aifeatas, I’m going to get them alone, get them drunk enough to pass out, and geld them.”
Runa’s eyes widened in shock.
“Ciardha, they’ll know who gelded them when they wake up. They could swear a blood feud against you—no, they will.”
“I know I implied that I would be the one to geld them, but that’s not the case,” Ciardha said. “I pity anyone who even goes near their cocks. No, it’ll be someone else doing the actual deed. But I will get them drunk.”
Somehow, this wasn’t very comforting to Runa. If she suggested an alternate plan and Ciardha followed through with it, how likely would it be for the brothers it was her idea and swear a blood feud against her as well? She swallowed heavily around a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to think of it.
“There are other ways of making them impotent. You can blame it on the gods themselves and they’d be none the wiser.”
“Gerant has a sensitive tongue. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was able to detect a poison in a wine cup. Or if he smelled one with his nose. Orrin might fall for the trap, but Gerant wouldn’t. He’s too clever.”
