#rumbelle ficlet

[darklybound]

What the Fuck? - A Rumbelle Ficlet 

****

This is a Rumbelle fictlet I wrote and decided to post as I'm still working on my longer nsfw fanfic.

It is also the first piece of writing I have posted on my ao3! You can read it there as well.

[ao3 link]

****

What the Fuck?

“What are you doing, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, staring down at his maid.

That morning, he had expected his recently acquired servant to be cowering in the shadows of his castle or frantically doing the duties he had assigned her to spare herself the Dark One's wrath. A normal reaction to giving oneself over to the most powerful magic user in the realm. This is why when Rumpelstiltskin used his authority over his domain to locate her and found her outside his castle, his stomach dropped.

Of course, she would be a runner. She was a noblewoman entrapped by the monster whom as a child she had been told would eat her if she misbehaved. No doubt she feared as much for her life as she did her maidenhood. He was the Dark One after all. Everyone left the Dark One as everyone had left the spineless spinner.

Rumpelstiltskin had magicked himself in front of where he sensed her life essence, expecting to find a terrified woman sneaking out of his castle. He had not been looking forward to wrangling her back inside nor calming down the wild woman.

Instead, he had found his maid digging in the dirt. The soil was almost camouflaged with how it blended into the brown dye of her trousers and the dark grey tunic she wore, but it stood out against her pale arms, leaving no doubt that she had been tilling the ground.

This is how Rumpelstiltskin found himself hovering over his maid, asking her what she was doing. The noblewoman jumped at his sudden appearance and looked up at her jailer with surprised yet calm eyes that were like pools of liquid sky. Eyes Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t stare at too long, or he feared he may float away to another time to a different-hued set of kind chestnut eyes.

“Why, I’m gardening, of course,” Belle answered before ignoring him to go back to tending the earth as if it was perfectly normal.

“What the fuck?!” Befuddled, Rumpelstiltskin slipped from the mannerisms he employed as the Dark One. His carefully crafted dangerous aura was replaced by his mouth opening and closing like a fish and his hands waving around frantically. For a second, the Dark One acted like a man.

Belle returned her gaze to him. The flash of annoyance at being interrupted twice at her task immediately shifted to an emotion Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t seen anyone look at him with since Bae. Amusement.  “While I was working, I noticed the abandoned garden from a window. That’s when I realized I was the only servant you had to tend to the castle, and you Rumpelstiltskin, have let your beautiful estate wither. So, I decided to do something about it.”

“Y-You…” He couldn’t believe it. He was stammering. Him! The Dark One was stuttering! All because his latest possession was not acting like she should! She was a noble! She should be weeping, wailing, clawing her way out of his hold instead of clawing in the dirt. To try and what? Make the Dark Castle lighter? Like it was an actual residence of life instead of death and rot? Flowers against the Dark Castle’s walls were like flowers upon a tombstone. The beauty distracted the living from what lay beneath. Death.

She wasn’t playing her part. She wasn’t supposed to care about the duties of her new position. She wasn’t supposed to adjust as if her family had just fallen into disgrace, and she was working diligently to save whatever honor and wealth they had left.

Rumpelstiltskin looked upon his maid with wide eyes, and for the first time in a century, he pondered if he was the one who underestimated who he had made a deal with. She gazed back with an unwavering expression that contained poorly hidden judgment on how rundown he had let his castle become and with concern that she had overstepped.

She tried to hide her reprimand, but he could see it in her exasperated huff and the slight uptick of her brow. Her unease was subtle in the way her hands twisted around the scattered blades of grass peeking out from the displaced soil and in how she bit her lip in the manner that he had seen young ladies do when anxious about a man’s reaction.

She was criticizing him instead of begging for forgiveness! Him, the Dark One! She was concerned about his reaction, not petrified at the horrors he may inflict upon her for her transgression. She was treating him as if he was a normal master and not…not a monster. The Dark One fell away completely as the old spinster’s heart started beating once again.

Too astounded to properly reply, Rumpelstiltskin whispered the only panicked thought in his head.

“What the fuck?”

[shadowedoracle]

A Fear of Needles

Happy Fluffapalooza/ Skin Deep Day Everyone!

This is a short little ficlet that came to me at about 6:30AM when I was trying to grab a few hours sleep after getting my CCA ballot done. Since, apparently, when I desperately need sleep I actually wonder about whether/ how much the population of Storybrooke is vaccinated... Then this came to me.

Not sure It's exactly what I was creating as I was falling asleep but it's close enough. I've only done a very basic proofread so if there are any typos/ obvious errors let me know.

***

“I still don’t see why I need to do this.” Rumple muttered to his wife as they sat in the doctor’s waiting room. “I’m the Dark One, I don’t get sick.”

Belle shook her head, wishing she could roll her eyes as perfectly as her husband could as he returned to what he clearly thought was his winning argument.

“We’ve been over this already Rumple. You might not get sick like the rest of us. But we don’t know for sure that you can’t transmit a disease to someone else.”

“I’ve never done so in over two hundred years as the Dark One.” Her husband said huffily.

She looked at him levelly. “And for most of those years you lived alone. So that’s not as strong a point as it sounds on face value -- and you know it.”

“Humph, perhaps. But we lived in a world rife with disease and no prophylactic treatments such as vaccinations. You’d have thought if I was a carrier there’d have been some evidence of it.”

“Perhaps. But the data we have is just insufficient to be sure Rumple. And we need to be sure.” She laid her hand on his leg which was twitching slightly, a sure sign of his nerves. “I know you wouldn’t want to be the source of any harm to Gideon, if you could prevent it. Neither of us do. So by getting vaccinated we’re taking an important step towards ensuring we don’t harm our son, even indirectly.”

Rumple deflated.“I know.” He sighed. “I know.”

She knew he did know. They’d had this conversation before, multiple times now, and despite all of Rumple’s arguments she knew that ultimately she had the winning one: Rumple could never countenance being the source of any harm coming to their son, no matter how small the probability.

“Mr Gold?” Doc’s voice called through the waiting room.

They stood up and followed him into his office. After Doc had checked Rumple’s appointment details and medical record details-- well Mr. Gold’s medical records, so the age was made up since the computer system wouldn’t permit ages above 150, apparently -- he busied himself preparing the syringe.

Rumple looked at the needle with wide eyes, then his eyes darted to the door then to Belle. “Even if I agree this is necessary. Why are we doing this here? Why not go to Portland or Boston or New York? Somewhere with real doctors. Not a bunch of people who got there medical knowledge from a curse.”

“Hey!” Doc said. “We've spent over 28 years practising medicine in this land. We’re hardly new to things like injections.”

“I seriously doubt repeating the same day over and over gave you as much medical knowledge as you claim.” Rumple sneered.

“Enough Rumple,” said Belle. “We’ve discussed this before. It’s safer doing this here where you have magic, just in case either your body or your magic, reacts badly to the vaccinations.”

“Still doesn’t mean, I think allowing an inexperienced, non-formally trained doctor to stab me with a needle is a good idea.”

“I’m right here you know!” cried Doc.

“I’m sorry Doc.” Belle said knowing Rumple wouldn’t apologize for his remarks and wanting to reassure the dwarf. “I know you know what you’re doing. You’ve vaccinated most of the town by now, including Henry and Gideon.”

Rumple quietened at the reminder that both his son and grandson had been vaccinated by Doc. But as Doc swabbed his arm and picked up the syringe, he started fidgeting again.

Belle shook her head mentally. Who would ever believe the Dark One was afraid of needles? Time to break out the big guns. She put her hand on his thigh and leaned in so close that her lips brushed his ear. She made sure her voice was so low that Doc wouldn’t be able hear. “Rumplestiltskin, if you sit still and behave yourself from now on, I promise that tonight, once Gideon’s asleep, I’ll reward you in any way you desire.”

Rumple turned his head and softly brushed his lips against hers then whispered back, “deal Mrs Gold."

[thisbluespirit]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold Additional Tags: Ficlet, Prompt Fill, Flash Fic, Dancing, Missing Scene, Kissing, Episode: s04e01 A Tale of Two Sisters (Once Upon a Time), Temptation Summary:

Rumple/Belle, kiss desperately.

[ace-of-spaders]

They sleep out on the observation deck, huddled in the corner where they can watch the magnificent colors of FTL Destiny is rushing through but can't be seen - at least, right away - if someone walks in, perhaps, having come to the same conclusion they did, that the deck is the most suitable place for spending one's night.

They sleep sitting up, leaning against each other - both seeking and providing support at the same time - arms linked, wrapped in the blanket Chloe had the foresight to bring with her.

Chloe's head is pillowed on Rush's shoulder, her free hand holding onto his forearm as if he's the only thing that keeps her from drifting away - she nodded off first and the same nightmares that have been plaguing them both since their... stay at the blue aliens' ship must have tried to surface again because before long her breathing sped up and she clutched onto his arm with strength that might have actually left bruises, effectively drawing Nick's attention away from the calculations he'd been trying to work on. He watched her face contort with a grimace that was part confusion, part fear and - last but not least - pain and, though the very thought of those aliens terrified him out of his mind under any other circumstances, this time he just squeezed her hand lightly to let her know she was not alone and murmured into her hair, his voice tranquil on the surface but fierce with determination within: "It's alright. They're not gonna hurt you. I won't let them." Her features smoothed out then, no longer afraid, and with a sigh and a slight shift - an attempt to snuggle into his side even more than she already was - she finally fell into a deep and blissfully dreamless sleep.

Rush's temple is resting against the top of Chloe's head, his free hand still holding onto his notebook as he fell asleep, for the first time in forever ( if you count out the times he simply passed out because he'd been running on too little hours of sleep and too much stress - those could not be considered as healthy sleep he was in desperate need of by any stretch of imagination, no matter how stubborn the lead scientist was ), without noticing it - Chloe's warmth and weight against his side providing just enough comfort to soothe his overthinking mind and quench the nearly constant terror of falling again into the aliens' clutches so that he can rest.

They sleep, huddled under one blanket, leaning against supporting each other, their arms linked and hands intertwined, and for the first time in days, weeks, months - what feels like eternity, really - both Chloe and Rush sleep through the whole night, with no nightmares to terrorize them.

[woodelf68]

I found it! I didn't dream it! And it was a fic! 'To Get Me Through' by shakespeareanhoneybadgers. A.K.A Belle's version of the 2x16 phone call in a letter to Rumple at the end of 2x22: shakespeareanhoneybadgers(.)tumblr(.)com/post/51543248852/ficlet-to-get-me-through

Good sleuthing!

[ace-cf-cups]

Happy Skin Deep day!

As many other events/things in this fandom, last year I was watching from afar while this year I strive to actively participate in the life of Rumbelle fandom ( also this sounds very fun ), so I wanna try playing "Fluffify This!")

In short, send me angst prompts to turn them into fluffy ficlets about Rumbelle!

Golden Lace, Woven Lace, Woven Beauty and Anyelle/em prompts are also accepted.

[abovethemists]

What’s a fic trope, plot bunny, or character variation that you want someone to write for Rumbelle, but no one ever has?

I am a simple woman with simple needs. Enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, mutual pining, these are my bread and butter and there is thankfully plenty to go around in the Rumbelle fandom. Rumbelle has also tackled pretty much everything so anything I say probably has been done, I just haven't had a chance to read it yet.

I do wish someone would finish my Lady Belle hires Spinner Rumple to impregnate her after her husband unexpectedly dies and she's left in a precarious position with no heir fic because I'd rather read it than write it. So, if anyone wants to take a stab at that one! I also don't think there were a lot of Belle is pregnant and has a baby in the missing year fics. (I remember some ficlets but not a long fic). And there was a sad lack of season 5 woobie Rumple with no powers smut. Okay, I could probably think of a lot more if I had the time...

[rumbelleshowdown]

Oh my God I submitted my finished ficlet yesterday for the Showdown and now I feel that may have been a mistake.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my submission and I feel like it’s the best work I could have done for this.

It’s just the tension! The anticipation is killing me!!! 😫

I’m so excited for the fics to be posted! 😁 I wanna read some Rumbelle!

Good luck and happy writing, fellow Rumbellers! 🌹✍️

Rumplestiltskin is excited too! Belle looks a little stressed though. Delighted and stressed... that sums up the Showdown experience pretty well.

[a-rose-for-gold]

I expanded my ficlet for the 2023 Rumbelle Showdown!

[beeeinyourbonnet]

What can you share about what you are currently working on?

Ahhhhhhhhhhh thank you for your question! I am working on three things actively and editing a fourth:

By Hook or By Crook - Rumbelle fic, actively posting new chapters probably on Thursdays because Mondays have not been kind to me xD

A one-shot PWP for Covetous that has gotten Out of Hand and may never be finished due to the out-of-hand nature of it and it may end up being a chapter sequel ficlet instead of just the one chill PWP it was supposed to be xD it may, in fact, contain Themes.

The Beginning of a New Book is bellish and it's completely written so I am just editing as I post new chapters on Fridays!

And then FINALLY, i am working on a BRAND NEW CHAPTERED DEVELLE FIC that also includes Ives from Ravenous. The basic plot is that Belle has been in a bad marriage for years and in order to cut all ties from it, she is working off her estranged husband's debt to Danny. Here is a snippet:

“Oi.” Danny burst in from the club side, and Belle’s spirits perked up for a second or so before plummeting back down. “Did anyone come in here? Mr. fucking Beatty said he fucking dropped off a hundred quid and I told him he was a fucking liar.”

“He was a fucking liar,” Belle agreed. “No one dropped anything off.”

Danny muttered to himself as he stomped to his desk, a little tempest in a teacup. His ostentatiously tight suits had irked Belle when she’d first met him six months ago, but now they were as familiar as Danny himself. 

“Some good news, though.” He shuffled through some papers on his desk. “Your fucking good-for-fucking-nothing husband paid me for the first time since fucking July.”

[alphashley14]

Oh what a damn fool I am.

I started another WIP.

I’m definitely going to prioritize ‘One of Us’ (it’s only fair and I’ve come this far dammit!) But I’m definitely excited to see where this other story goes.

Also terrified.

Because I have a horrible track record of having more than one ongoing WIP at once. But still.

This is “Rags to Riches,” expanded from the ficlet of the same name that I wrote for the 2023 Rumbelle Showdown under the pseudonym Sonnenblume.

[peacehopeandrats]

Final day of fic questions challenge!

Day 30: Do you have a favorite fic you've written? What makes it your favorite? And don't forget to give us a link!

One of my favorites is called Marble (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35438176). It was part of the Monthly Rumbelling challenge that I participated in for a full year to create little ficlets, which I then turned into a giant choose your own adventure series. Or... I'm in the process of turning into that... I still have a LONG way to go. I loved that series and that idea, but I think Marble was my favorite because of the prompt and how I came up with the magical stuff around the prompt. I liked Mountains, Streams, and Magical Things for the same reason. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/25508239/chapters/61884613) And because of the way I got one of my favorite "Rumbelle songs" and Jefferson all heavily in one fic. :)

[fuckyeahbelleandrumpelstiltskin]

I found it! Belle's version of the 2x16 Rumbelle phone call. 2x22 Ficlet: To Get Me Through by shakespeareanhoneybadgers. link: shakespeareanhoneybadgers(.)tumblr(.)com/post/51543248852/ficlet-to-get-me-through

.

[basicallyunicorn]

Fluffify this!: "Run, don't look back!"

Little Fluff Ficlet! "Run, don't look back!" Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Belle sighed as the scantily clad woman walked in slow steps towards her undead doom. “Every time, it’s like they want to die.”

Coughing to cover up the urge to laugh, Rumplestiltskin leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You know they can’t hear you, right?”

She shoved him away and threw a kernel of popcorn at the tv screen.  “Sush, I'm watching the movie."

Rumple smiled and leaned back against the sofa, not bothering to turn back to the cheesy horror movie when he could watch Belle instead. Her snorts of derision about dumb characters and her small squeaks when something jumped out of the shadows made the movie completely worth his brain rot.

At last, the hero of the story turned up with his shotgun blasting to rescue the screaming woman from an army of zombies. Belle snuggled against his side and kissed his cheek, her eyes soft as she looked up at him.

"What was that for?"

"For just being you, and being here watching this awful movie with me." 

Her sweet smile could still make him blush. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Pressing a kiss to her forehead as the credits rolled, Rumple couldn’t help but add. “I’m picking the next movie though.”

Her laughter filled the room and his soon followed, the house echoing with happiness.

[ace-of-spaders]

This was initially a starter set in an alternate timeline ( because f*ck the 6th season — these two deserve to experience this pregnancy, and another one or two to come 😌, together and be blissfully, blissfully happy while at it ) I wrote for my Belle over on my rp blog (I've got both Rumple and Belle blogs, actually, so if anyone wants to roleplay Rumbelle with me, just hit me up and I'll point you in their direction) in a spur of a moment after watching the last episode of Hamish Macbeth ( I dunno how or why but something about emotional young Bobby triggered this flood of emotion in me ) but then I decided to also post it as a ficlet on my personal blog, too, so that all my fellow Rumbellers could read it because the mental image is just too precious to not share it 🥺💗🥰

Alright, enough with the rambling 😅 On to the ficlet itself:

(Oh, and @thinkofscotland I blame your pfp for my urge to dive back into the marvel that is Hamish Macbeth, so I guess this fic also came into existence partly because of you ❤️ )

"He kicked," Rumple stated the obvious in a voice that's gone hoarse with emotion, his gaze slipping from his wife's beautiful face to her round stomach, where their hands were resting, intertwined, united forever in spite of everything that life had and will throw at them, his thumb stroking her belly through the thin material of her blouse.

"He kicked, Belle," he repeated, astonished, as if his wife was not the one who got to experience that significant moment first-hand, and when amber gaze rose to meet the sky blue one again, there were tears shining in his eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart," the endearment was no louder than a whisper, breaking with emotion, as Rumple raised his free hand to cup his beloved's cheek, but it was enough for her to hear it and, hopefully, the feeling welling up inside of him even before it spilt out of him in the form of tear-soaked words, "I love you so much."

He then leaned in to kiss her – sweet and firm at the same time, the unspoken proof of just how much he loved her and a way to let the overwhelming emotions out before they choked him – but pulled away after a few moments to kneel slowly in front of his wife, truly grateful for what seemed like the first time ever to have his ankle permanently healed, not just numbed. Lifting the fabric of her loose-fitting blouse just enough to place a kiss on her stomach, on the very place he felt their son kick against just a few moments prior, he did just that, whispering in the same tone, wrecked with emotion, as tears finally slipped down his cheeks:

"And I love you, too, son, with all my heart. I will always love you and be there for you, for as long as you and your Mama need me. I promise."

His voice broke completely on that last word, sacred for him, and he could speak no more, so he wrapped his arms around Belle's legs, rested his cheek against her belly and closed his eyes, trying and failing to rein in the storm of love and fear, anxiety and elation going on in his soul.

[emospritelet]

Heatstroke

This ficlet is all the fault of the enablers in response to this post

[AO3]

x

“Dammit!”

Lacey cursed under her breath as she dropped a box of her belongings halfway up the path of her new home. The box broke open, books scattering and her bedroom lamp rolling away onto the overgrown grass. Her cat, Darcy, who had been sniffing curiously around the side of the house, jumped at the noise and shot off towards the fence, sleek black body squeezing through a hole into next door’s rear garden.

“Great!”

Lacey sighed, carrying what was left of the box to the small porch and setting it down. She would have to find Darcy. He hadn’t enjoyed the journey to Storybrooke from New York, and was already skittish. Better to get him back and lock him in the house to give him time to settle in.

“Shouldn’t have let him out of the box,” she muttered, dusting off her hands. “Should have kept him inside for a couple of days to get him used to the place. Stupid!”

Sighing to herself, she looked at the house Darcy had chosen for his refuge. It was far larger than the one she was renting, a handsome Victorian over three floors. Lacey had been surprised that her own property had been so inexpensive, and now that she saw the quality of her new neighbour’s house, she was wondering why she had managed to get such a good deal.

Maybe I got the last house in town, right next to the drug dealer’s place , she thought, snickering. Bloody typical!

She would have to get Darcy back, and so she trotted back down the path, past the battered old Toyota she had stuffed with all her worldly goods and up the path of the next house. The garden was neat, perfectly cut grass edging the path, and rose bushes in front of the porch, filling the air with their fragrance. A knock at the door yielded no answer, and Lacey hoped the occupants were out. Perhaps they were. It was the middle of Sunday afternoon, on a pleasantly warm day. They probably had much better things to do with their time than sit around the house. Which meant she would have to go searching for Darcy herself.

She made her way around the side of the house, a wide rear garden coming into view. There was a perfect square of lawn between beds of colourful flowers and more rose bushes, and in the centre of the lawn was a small wooden table next to a sun lounger and - oh!

Lacey clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. On the sun lounger was a man. A thin, perfectly nude man, arms behind his head and eyes closed. His limbs were slender, with thin ropes of muscle showing in his thighs and upper arms, his chest smooth and hairless, his body lightly tanned. He had dark hair between his legs, where the soft sac of his balls hung, and his cock had shifted to the side, thankfully in its dormant state. Lacey found that she was looking at it curiously, and covered her eyes with her hand.

“Sorry!” she said hastily. “I - I was just looking for my cat, I never meant to - uh - see you - like that.”

There was no response, and after a moment she peeked through her splayed fingers. The man was motionless, still with his eyes closed, and she realised he had headphones in. Oh, thank God, he has no idea I’m here!  

It was then that she spotted Darcy, sitting proudly on the little wooden table next to the sun lounger, squinting at her contentedly.

“You get back here!” she whispered.

Darcy yawned, pink tongue curling in his mouth. There was a glass beside him, a tall drink with three cubes of ice and a slice of lemon. He seemed to notice it at the same time she did, and lifted a paw, patting it curiously. Lacey’s eyes widened.

“No! Don’t you bloody dare!”

The glass toppled off the table, landing on the man’s belly with a splash, and he jerked upright with a shout, eyes snapping open as he was covered with cold liquid. Darcy shot away, squeezing back under the fence, and Lacey was left opening and closing her mouth as the man on the lounger stared at her wide-eyed before hurriedly clapping his hands over his groin.

“Sorry!” she said wretchedly. “Uh - it was the cat!”

Not waiting for his response, she turned tail and ran as fast as she could in the heels she was wearing. Great. First day in town and the neighbour thinks I broke into his garden to throw a drink at his crotch. Welcome to Storybrooke, Lacey.