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kayr0ss · 7 months ago

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Rosewood

[Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon, Farcille, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Proposal Fic, Woodworking / Furniture Making, Fluff and Humor, Touden Siblingisms] AO3 Link

Summary: Falin gets into woodworking, is kind of a (loveable) idiot, and Marcille loves every second of it

“I believe us tall-men call it a quarter-life crisis.”

“How is it a crisis?” Marcille glared at Kabru. “Now that the kingdom’s relatively stable, she’s probably just looking for something new to do with her free time.”

Marcille ran into him at the tradesman’s courtyard—a rectangular wing of the castle with an open garden in the center. This wing housed wide rooms with high ceilings and windows facing the garden to flood them with natural light. Some were used for textiles and tailoring, others for working metal. Another section—Marcille’s intended destination—was for putting together and repairing furniture. She had stopped herself at the room’s threshold at the sight of ash-blonde hair, leaning against the doorway to allow herself a minute to just… look.

And that’s when Kabru found her—such terrible timing. She was trying to enjoy herself!

“That’s what a quarter-life crisis is,” he insisted.

Marcille scoffed. “Why can’t we just call it a hobby?”

“I mean we can.” Kabru hummed thoughtfully. “Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Falin’s interest in woodworking hadn’t come up out of the blue. Marcille remembers her having a small collection of books on it—as early as their school days. She’d read about Izgandan tools and scribble notes on the margins of her book on Eastern joinery. Marcille fondly remembers how she’d complain about neck pains—too much reading did her no favors—how she’d sigh to Falin about wanting a bookstand.

Oh, Falin had said back then. I’ll just make you one.

And she did—even if it took her a few years to get around to it.

It sat at the center of Marcille’s desk—Falin’s first ever project, imperfect and a little funny-looking but Marcille would never have it any other way. In a few short months, Falin had graduated from making cutting boards to specialized barstools for Chilchuck. Her most recent completion was a knife block for Senshi.

Today, she was starting on something new.

The most beautiful slab of rosewood was laid out on Falin’s work bench, and it seemed like she was working on flattening it. Falin worked with a large hand-planer, running it across the wood at an angle from its grain. Back and forth she went, spilling sawdust and shavings across the floor. Marcille couldn’t help but watch—she watched the way Falin’s arms moved with each pass, her brows knit together in a look of concentration. She watched the way Falin paused to fold up the sleeves of her loose, cotton shirt—further up to her elbows until Marcille could see tufts of soft, beautiful feathers. Marcille kept watching. Even as Falin wiped the sweat off her brow, running a towel across the side of her neck while she steadied her breathing. Still, Marcille kept watching—until finally, Falin gripped the handles of the planer again—her hands strong and steady, placing the tool back into position on the rosewood—

Kabru cleared his throat and Marcille quickly wondered if she could get away with murder.

“Wha—!” Marcille felt her blood pressure pitch into the high heavens. She burned, red, sputtering. “What are you even still doing here! I thought you were working?!”

“I am. It’s my job to remind the Royal Court Mage,” Kabru smiled diplomatically. “To stop ogling Lady Falin so openly in public.”

Kabru ducked—expertly dodging Ambrosia’s arc towards the back of his head.

II.

“What kind of wood is it?”

Marcille ran her hand along the scabbard Falin had crafted for Laios. She didn’t cover it with leather or paint, instead opting to stain it with a mild oil. Marcille had never seen wood with such odd grain patterns and color before. They curved almost anatomically, swirling into knots and unraveling like blood vessels.

“Uhm—It’s—” Falin looked to the corner of the room, nervously scratching at her check.

Marcille raised an eyebrow—then Laios excitedly barreled into the room.

“Falin!” He ran towards them, towering over his sister’s back and ruffling her hair.

“Get off!” Falin pouted, swatting him away. “Don’t ruffle my hair!”

“Did you finish it?” Laios blinked. Then he gasped, grabbing the scabbard excitedly from Marcille’s hands. “You did! My barometz scabbard!”

Marcille shrieked. “Barometz?!”

“Look, Marcille!” Laios held the scabbard right at her face—Marcille recoiled, pressing backwards against Falin who held wrapped her arms around her waist. “Do you see how the pattern branches out? It looks like wood grain but it’s actually a network of capillaries designed to provide nourishment to the creatures a baromtez grows—”

“Like a placenta!” Falin added softly.

“Exactly!” Laios laughed. “I have a sheath made out of—"

Marcille, exasperated, shoved her hands onto the two siblings’ faces to push them apart. “Barometz!?”

Falin flashed her sheepish grin.

“I just—you two!”

III.

Marcille was surprised to find Falin at Laios’ office—she had made a mess of the guest table at the center of the room, littering it with ribbons and decorative parchment. There were leathers laid out by the couch nearby, and Falin scrambled about, inspecting each one before coming back to a small box placed at the center of the table.

It was a beautiful jewelry box—another one of Falin’s projects. It had a body made from walnut and a checkered line that ran along its lid, made of cherry and pine. The colors reminded Marcille of the trees around her home. The lock was capped with a crest—one that surprised Marcille. Falin never cared for the posturing and ceremony that she and her brother now had to suffer, so why was her royal crest set in gold on this box?

“Oh—hi, Marcille.”

“Hey,” Marcille smiled, tugging on the front of Falin’s shirt to pull her closer. She got up on her tip toes, wrapping her arms around Falin’s shoulders to steal a small kiss.

“You found me,” Falin mumbled into their kiss, holding her by the waist.

“Mhm,” Marcille finally pulled back. “What are you doing here?”

“Sending a package. It’s going all the way up North so I needed good wrapping.”

“Is it this a jewelry box you made?”

“Mhmm.”

“It looks beautiful,” Marcille walked towards the table to inspect it. “Though I’m surprised that you used such an official symbol. That’s unlike you.”

“W—Well I heard jewelry boxes were a good gift for mothers.” Falin scratched at the back of her head. “And I wanted this one to be kinda… official looking?”

“Oh!” Marcille blinked. “Well, I’m sure your mother would love it!”

“Ah, no.” Falin’s natural flush deepened. “Not for my mom—”

“Hm?”

“It’s… for yours.”

Oh.

Marcille—stunned at first—smiled. Then she laughed, pulling Falin into a hug—her wonderful, loving, thoughtful Falin.

IV.

“Don’t you want to go tell her yourself?” Laios asked over dinner.

“I can’t.” Falin squirmed. “I’m too nervous.”

“She can’t be that strict!”

“Do you remember how Marcille was when we first met her in the tavern?”

Laios paled. “Yes. Is she even stricter?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Understandable.

“It’s so pretty!” Marcille swooned, hands clasped as she admired Falin’s hard work.

The rosewood desk that Falin had been working on was finally finished after weeks of work. It was polished impeccably, sealed with the finest wax to finish. It had all the drawers Marcille needed – shallow ones for her inks and pens, deeper ones for parchment and scrolls, and even a little platform towards the back where she could set her feet—Falin knew that sometimes the chair was too high for Marcille to be able to reach the ground.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” Marcille hugged Falin, who looked delightfully smug.

“No fair!” Laios pointed at his sister. “Falin—I want one too!”

“I already gave you a scabbard,” she shook her head.

“My desk is so big and boring though,” he slumped.

“It’s also a thousand-year hold antique,” Kabru supplied dryly. “It would do well for appearances to keep it.”

The new desk was heavy. Really, really heavy. It had taken nearly all of them to carry it up to Marcille’s office with how heavy and set it was. This was apparently by design, according to Falin, who can be so much like her brother and not know when to not say things, because—

“I made sure to use joinery instead of nails and angle irons,” Falin gave herself a self-satisfied nod. “I know that it bothers you how it creaks when w—”

Marcille turned so red they thought she might faint, hooking Ambrosia around Falin’s head and yanking her backwards hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs.

VI.

By the time winter started that year, all the furniture in Marcille’s room and office had been replaced by Falin’s handiwork: new shelves for her books and trinkets, an extension for her windowsill where she could keep plants and little felt toys.

Today, Marcille came into her office to a brand-new chair. It perfectly matched her desk, coming up a little higher than her old one to make writing and reading more comfortable.

“I asked the tailors for help with the upholstery,” Falin said, still in her apron and smelling of sawdust. “I’ve never been very good with sewing and leatherwork.”

“It’s amazing,” Marcille whispered as she traced along Falin’s simple engravings—she had started experimenting more artistically with her work. Beautiful, Marcille thought to herself. How wonderful it was to see Falin’s efforts engraved into something tangible—something permanent. “Thank you.”

Falin simply smiled back.

“You’ve gotten so good at this!”

“You think?”

“Yeah!” Marcille stood up to clasp their hands. “The gift you sent mom left such an impression on her that she’s planning to visit.”

Falin gasped. And then grinned, “I’m so glad!”

“Me too,” Marcille leaned forward, smiling against Falin’s shoulder and the feathers of her neck. “I’m happy you found a hobby you like so much. Between dungeons and politics, it seems like such a good break for you.”

“Mm, yeah.” Falin gently ran her fingers along Marcille’s hair. “I’ve always wanted to be able to build furniture for my wife one day.”

Marcille froze.

What?

She pushed herself backwards, looking up in surprise at Falin while still staying in their embrace. “Wife—? Wh—”

Falin was blinking, almost in a panic. Then she grew redder, and redder, and redder—like a kettle about to whistle. “I, uh—!” She stammered. She had that look on her face, the adorable expression of confusion as if she had just forgotten something very important. It reminded Marcille of their younger days. “You see—”

Marcille’s thoughts were running a hundred paces at a time—her mother visiting? Falin—wife?

“Marcille,” Falin looked at her resolutely. Lovingly. “Will you marry me?”

VII.

“You forgot to propose?” Chilchuck had his face in his hands.

“Well, technically I was still able to…” Falin said meekly.

“After all the time I put into helping you plan it!”

VIII.

By the next summer, Marcille found herself at the tradesman’s courtyard again. She had a tray of refreshments in her hands—one for herself and another for Falin. The condensation on the glass formed droplets of dew that ran along its side, mirroring the droplets on Falin’s brow. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail—messy with stray locks escaping this way and that. Her shirt was loose and bunched around her forearms and she was wearing a brand-new work apron that Senshi had made for her—with hooks and pockets and all.

Marcille, like so many times before, leaned against the woodshop’s doorframe to watch and wonder.

“Marcille,” Kabru cleared his throat, standing next to her with an arm full of scrolls.

“Kabru.”

He nudged her shoulder. “May I remind the Royal Court Mage—”

“I can ogle my wife whenever I want!”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Marcille scoffed, petulant yet still smiling.

She watched as Falin gripped the handles of her planer, firm and strong, her left hand glittering with new jewelry.

fin

A/N:

extremely self indulgent thanks i love these two, this was not beta read so sorry *throws it to AO3 and posts it* hope that you enjoyed!

#farcille #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #falin touden #falin x marcille #touden siblings #laios touden #kabru #marcille donato

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marmorafarms · 8 months ago

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The Hazards of Love Ch 3

I have a bonus chapter for you all! I ended up getting super inspired, and decided to split the chapter into two instead of doing one huge chapter. I hope you enjoy!

The song mentioned in this chapter is a real song! It's one of my favorites, and is called Kun Anta, by Humood AlKhudher! I translated the bits I put in as best I could, but I might not have done the best job ever, so sorry to y'all who are more fluent in Arabic than I am!

Pairing: Labru

Word Count: 2098

Chapter Rating: Teen+

You can read it down below or on ao3!

THEN:

Ever since the concert with Laios, the two had become almost inseparable. It was hard to find one without the other, both men seeming to genuinely love being around each other. Even though Laios was a little odd, Kabru found that he really didn’t mind that much. He might be different, but he was passionate about his interests, and it softened Kabru’s heart to hear him talk about his two passions—exotic animals, and cooking.

“You know, I’d love to cook something with you sometime!” Laios said one day, seemingly out of the blue. The two were studying in the library, Laios looking over his notes for creative writing, and Kabru working on some math.

“What?” Kabru asked, confused. They hadn’t even been talking about food, so he wasn’t really sure what had brought this on.

“We should cook,” Laios said. “I think you should meet my friend Senshi, he’s a cooking instructor, and can make an amazing meal out of anything! I was just thinking, I want you to meet my friends. I’ve met yours, so you should meet mine!”

Kabru winced, thinking about Laios’ introduction to Rin. She had been ice cold, but either Laios hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care.

“Is it because he’s pretty?” Rin had asked after hanging out with Laios. Kabru glared at her.

“Probably,” their friend Mickbell said with a snort. “I can’t believe you want to hang out with that blond dumbass,” he continued. “He’s friends with Chilchuck! Don’t you remember that weirdo from high school? Ugh, I can’t believe we have to be friends with those chuckleheads now.”

“It’s not that,” Kabru said, trying to keep a cool head. “He’s nice. Genuine. Maybe he’s a little strange, but that just makes him even better. He’s himself, no matter what. It’s beautiful.”

Mickbell made a loud fake gagging noise, and Rin rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say,” she said grumpily.

Kabru hoped that meeting Laios’ friends would go over a little bit better, and that hopefully none of them would have rude things to say about him behind his back. He had agreed to meet Senshi, which had overjoyed Laios. He gave Kabru a one thousand watt smile, and clapped him on the back.

“We’ll have so much fun!” Laios said. “You should bring some ingredients!”

“Like what?” Kabru said. “We should probably come up with a meal first instead of just bringing random ingredients and hoping it makes something.”

“Hmm…” Laios said thoughtfully. “I’ll ask Senshi what would be good.”

Kabru nodded. “Okay that sounds--”

“Oops!” a feminine voice said as someone bumped into Kabru. “Sorry!”

Kabru turned in his chair, and saw two people behind him. They were both blonde and very feminine looking. The shorter of the two was who was looking a Kabru in a way he very much didn’t like. She leaned against the table, a sly smile on her face, eyes hooded. He recognized this look. It was the look of someone who was going to try to shoot their shot, and Kabru really wasn’t in the mood.

“It’s fine,” Kabru said, trying to sound as disinterested in her as possible.

“Oh I’m glad I didn’t bother you,” she said. “Hey, I think I recognize you! I think you’re in my stats class! With Professor Jakob?”

“Maybe,” Kabru said, “It’s a huge class. Sorry, I don’t think I recognize you.”

Her face fell, but brightened as she continued. “Well, my name is Fleki, and this is Lycion,” she said, nodding to the man next to her, who raised a hand in greeting.

“Great, nice to meet you,” Kabru said. He turned back to his math, but Fleki continued to talk.

“There’s a really awesome party coming up next weekend,” she said, sliding Kabru a piece of paper. “There’s my number. Call me sometime, okay?” she said with a grin. Kabru gave a forced smile, and felt relieved as she left.

“Are you going to call her?” Laios asked. “She was pretty.”

“She was, but that’s not enough to make me want to call her,” Kabru said. “She was so rude, just butting into our conversation. And I did recognize her.”

“Really?” Laios said, surprised. “But you told her you didn’t!”

“I know Fleki by reputation, but not by looks. At first I was being honest, but as soon as she said her name, I realized who she was. She’s a druggie, always high on mushrooms or LSD or shit like that. An awesome party…probably just wants to get high and mess around.”

“Would you want to do that?” Laios asked.

“Want to get high and fuck her? Hell no!” Kabru said, shocked.

“No, I…I more meant the idea. Getting high and messing around with someone,” Laios said, sounding slightly flustered.

Kabru blinked. What?

“Um, I don’t know?” Kabru said. “Maybe if it was like, weed or something. I don’t go any harder than that. I’ve never had sex while high though.”

“I have,” Laios said.

“Really?” Kabru said, and Laios nodded.

“I don’t have a lot of experience though, not many people want to go that far with me, but when I have--”

“Oh that’s bullshit, you’re hot as fuck!” Kabru burst out. It didn’t take long for him to register what he had just said, and felt his face heating up, wishing a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him whole. Why had he said that?!

“Excuse me?” Laios said, his cheeks tinged with pink.

“I…” Kabru floundered, trying to figure out how to save the situation, “I just meant that you’re a good looking guy so it’s hard to believe that people wouldn’t want to do it with you!”

“Oh,” Laios said, eyes wide. “Well…I don’t have trouble getting dates if it’s on an app. Girls seem to like how I look. But it’s after that’s the problem. Once they meet me, most of them don’t want to date me. I weird people out,” Laios said sadly. “So meeting people in person is pretty much out of the question. They meet me and are instantly turned off.”

“That’s stupid,” Kabru said with a frown. “You’re great! Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re a guy!” Laios said.

Ah.

That line.

Kabru sighed. Having said that stupid phrase, Laios was probably straight. If he wasn’t able to consider that a man could have feelings for another man…or maybe he was operating under the assumption that Kabru was straight? Well, the band aid would have to be ripped off at some point, might as well say something now.

“First of all, it doesn’t matter that I’m a guy, it’s obvious that anyone would be lucky to be with you. You’re a great guy with a good heart. But secondly, I happen to enjoy guys just as much as those girls you’re talking about.”

“Enjoy guys?” Laios said slowly, looking confused. Kabru wanted to slam his head against the table. Why was Laios so slow on the uptake?

“I fuck guys,” Kabru said bluntly, and Laios choked on air.

“You’re gay?” Laios said, after his coughs subsided.

“Bi,” Kabru said, “but yeah, I’m into guys. You?”

“I…I’m not really sure,” Laios said after a moment. “I think I’m straight but…”

“But?” Kabru pressed, and Laios looked away.

“I dunno. I’ve never thought about much until…” Laios paused, the apples of his cheeks flushing once more. “Well, I was talking with my friends and then my sister’s girlfriend, Marcille, called me ‘heteroflexible.’ So…maybe I like guys? Sometimes?”

Holy shit! He likes guys!

Kabru felt his heart flutter. Was being with Laios an actual possibility?

“But that just means the amount of people who don’t want to date me has just doubled,” Laios said with a bitter laugh. “I’ve tried to be someone else, a whole new person, but it never works. I’m just…me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. There’s this song I like…it reminds me of you. It’s in Arabic, but it says basically that if you’re yourself, you’re beautiful.”

“So, in your opinion,” Laios said slowly, “If I just let myself be myself, I’ll be beautiful?”

“Yes,” Kabru said firmly. “Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I won’t,” Laios said with a soft smile. “I promise.”

NOW

Laios sat in his car, wondering if this was a good idea. He hadn’t asked beforehand, but it was visiting hours. He desperately wanted to see Kabru, even though he had no idea what he would even say.

Laios turned his music on shuffle and hit play. And then it came on. The song, their song.

Pulling up his GPS, he put in the name of the hospital and began to drive. This was probably a stupid idea, but Laios didn’t care. He needed to see Kabru, even if it was just for a few minutes, or even seconds. Even if he was just looking through the window…he needed to see his face.

(in order to keep up with them I imitated their appearance. So I looked like someone else, just to brag. I thought I had become rich, but I found I had lost, for these are appearances)

لأجاريهم، قلّدت ظاهر ما فيهم

فبدوتُ شخصاً آخر، كي أتفاخر

و ظننتُ أنا، أنّي بذلك حُزْت غنى

فوجدتُ أنّي خاسر، فتلك مظاهر

Laios’ breath caught in his throat, and he both wanted to listen and didn’t want to listen all at the same time. He didn’t speak Arabic, but he could still remember Kabru telling him the meaning of the song, telling him how much it reminded him of Laios.

كن أنت تزدد جمالاً

(Be yourself and you will be more beautiful)

Kabru had told him this line on that day in the library. Told him that as long as he was himself, he would be beautiful. But look where being himself had gotten him! He hadn’t been able to love Kabru, and now his friend was in the hospital, dying. Sure, Laios had a plan. But did Falin have a point? Could he make himself fall in love with Kabru, or was it a lost cause?

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he drove, listening to the song. At the next light, he put the song on repeat, letting it play on loop as he remembered the first time they had ever listened to it. That moment had been everything. It had been the moment he fell for Kabru.

But clearly, not fallen in love.

God, how could he say he fell for Kabru when Kabru was coughing up petals and pollen? He felt like he was in love, but clearly something was off, something was wrong. Could something be wrong with his love? Was it not deep enough, or maybe…maybe they weren’t meant for each other? Was that how it worked? Maybe you had to be soul mates.

Laios had spent hours researching Hanhaki, but unfortunately there wasn’t a whole lot of scholarly articles about it. Most of what he found were random people speculating or telling stories that truly frightened Laios. One article in a newspaper he didn’t recognize spoke of someone who lost all memories of the person they had been in love with. They had had the surgery and completely forgotten the person, didn’t even know their name.

Could he handle it if Kabru completely forgot him? Completely forgot this song? Completely forgot when they had…

Laios shook his head. He couldn’t remember that now. He needed to focus on what he was going to say to Kabru. He had to figure out what the hell to say! And what to say if Rin was there.

Rin was furious with him. She blamed Laios for Kabru’s predicament and clearly hated him for it. She had burst out in fury at him, and now refused to even look at him when they were in class, much less talk to him. She would probably try and stop him from seeing Kabru.

And maybe she would be right to. Would Kabru even want to see him? Laios hadn’t even considered that until this very moment. Maybe seeing him would make things worse. Maybe he’d die on the spot. Laios gripped the steering wheel tight. He sighed, and pulled over. This was a bad idea. He punched a new address into the GPS and headed there. He needed someone to be brutally honest with him, someone who wouldn’t sugar coat things even a little bit. Someone who wouldn’t give a shit about his feelings.

He needed Izutsumi.

#labru #laios #kabru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #fanfic #my writing #hanahaki #hanahaki disease

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