#renegade nell fanfic

[calummss]

O Captain, My Captain | Nell Jackson

masterlist

summary: running away from a forced marriage you flee onto the ship of captain nell jackson

pairing: lesbian! nell jackson x lesbian! reader

words: 1.5k

a/n: to my fellow lesbians enjoy 🧡🤍🩷 i want credit for inventing pirate nell j🤓

You had once hoped you would marry for love or at least find love in an arranged marriage like your mamma and papa. A kind of love that starts with a spark and grows into a small flame. That same flame can light a candle, a fireplace, if big enough it can even engulf entire cities. You hoped that someone would burn for but Mr. Norris didn’t love you. He wanted you. Like some prized possession to show off. The governor’s daughter, Lady Y/n Knightley. Diamond among the ladies of Jamaica. You wanted nothing more than to reject Mr. Norris’ advances but he insisted to your father that he was the perfect match. There was no persuading you. Once your father made up his mind there was nothing that could convince him otherwise. Your only plan to escape this marriage was to escape. Literally. You couldn’t bear the thought of looking that man in the face and pretending to like him. You had to run away.

You had packed a sack of a few items days before. Stealing hard cheeses, apples and bread in case you fell victim to food shortage. You weren’t quite sure how you would leave Port Royal, only that you would need to trespass on to a ship.

The next morning you woke up early, stars still in the sky, everyone else still asleep at this hour. You grabbed your sack and headed out the back door, careful to not come across any servants that were preparing breakfast.

Down at the harbour you noticed a ship, not too big, not too small. You saw that you were alone and took the illusion to hop on board, nearly losing your baggage to the ocean. It was quiet and only a few members of the crew paced the decks as they were getting ready to leave. You had gotten onto the ship without notice and prayed you wouldn’t attract notice until their next stop.

It was fiction if you believed that was what would happen.

“And who are you?” A voice sounded from above, grabbing you by the biceps with such force he almost lifted you up. “A ship hopper ey? Up you get. You’re gonna see the captain.”

You tried escaping him but his grasp was too tight. It had only been a few hours since you left shore and already you had been found.

“Please,” you tried wiggling. “Please I swear I’m not up to anything!”

“Tell that to ‘er.’ He said, throwing your forwards makes you stumble. Eye to eyes with a pair of black boots.

Looking up you saw the captain. A woman. She had long curly brown hair, hazel eyes. Such pretty eyes

“What are you doing on my ship?” Cockney accent, London, great you knew the ton in London perhaps it could help???

You stayed silent scared you might make yourself a fool.

“We can’t have ‘er on board, Nell.” The same man said. “Bad luck to ‘ave women on board.”

“Rupert, I literally have tits. You know that.”

“You’re different, Captain, same goes for the others on board. But she’s a real lady.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in response. “Are you saying I’m not a real lady?”

Rupert noticed the dominating tone. That he had pissed her off. He lowered his head and stepped back with a firm “Sorry, Ma’am.”

She turned around to face you, the sunset rising behind her making her look extraordinary. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n. Y/n Knightley.”

“And why is Y/n Knightley on my ship?”

“I had to run away, Captain.”

“From what?”

‘Marriage.”

“Understandable.”

“What?”

“What?” She repeated. “Understandably so. I myself don’t really understand it either. My name’s Nell Jackson by the way. Everyone calls me Captain, Ma’am or Nell.”

You nodded.

“But don’t call me Nellie.” She shook her head. “Don’t like that.”

“Yes, Captain.” You said with such uncertainty it sounded like a question, gathering sly laughter from the crew around you.

“Enough mesmerising our new ruby on board,” she called out. “Back to work ladies and gentlemen! You-,” she pointed at you, “with me.”

Everyone left at her command so you followed her to her office, still lit by the candles she used that night. Her office space was tidy except for the desk that bore many maps and figurines of ships.

“Are you a pirate?” You asked without thinking.

“Why yes I am.” She smiled as if you had just given her a compliment.

“You didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Why would I? I take pride in being captain of my very own crew and ship. Wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know.” You paced around the room, looking at various artefacts. “I’ve never really owned anything except for a baby lamb once. Then my father ate it.”

Her round eyes almost popped out of her skull. “How sweet,” she cleared her throat. “Look,” she came closer. “I don’t mind having you onboard as long as you follow my rules, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now go ask Roxy to show you the food storage so you can have a proper meal and come back to me when you’re done.

“Thank you, Nell.”

“Go on.”

You had decided that night that you would stay on board for as long as Nell allowed it. You grew fond of her and you thought she did the same. She treated you differently from the other woman on board. Like she cared differently…

The red dress that Nell gifted you when she visited Tortuga on business fit you like a glove. It fit your chest and arms perfectly, supporting your chest yet loose past your ribs giving you free space to move about. It was perfect.

The night grew mild as the hot temperatures dropped to a more appropriate level, the night sky full of stars as the pale moonlight hit the deck. You felt like dancing. You didn’t know why or how but simply because. Taking off your shoes, you twirled into the middle of the deck as you started to lift your feet off the ground to an imaginary beat. The other’s simply stared , wondering if you were well. Your hair ribbon loosened leaving your hair flowing in the fresh air of the Caribbean. “I feel alive.” You giggled, beaming at the crew as you tried to convince them to join you. “Come on, Will!” You took his hands, pulling him in with no success.

Soon after more women and men started to join you. Simply letting the stress of tomorrow be stress for tomorrow.

A bottle of rum was being passed around, taking multiple big swigs yourself, you let the burning sensation work its magic.

Nell joined in and took sips of rum, danced, had fun.

Turning about the deck you came opposite Nell. Taking her hands you spun in circles for as long as you could without getting sick. Stumbling away from the rest you both let out a laugh as the candle light stopped illuminating. You could only see the twinkle of the stars in her eyes as you got closer. Her eyes the most remarkable shade of hazel, her eyes so big one could only stare. Heat arose from your stomach to your chest. Her lips were getting closer and your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t move, like you were hypnotised. Your heart pounded, your knees grew weaker. The empty void that filled the space between your bodies slowly grew as she stepped even closer. Neither of you said anything. You knew what you wanted.

Your whole body tingled, the feeling of her frame leaning on yours, as Nell’s arms wrapped around you felt nearly forbidden. Her lips brushed against yours, softly, delicately, like you were a porcelain figure, one crack away from falling to pieces and being broken forever. You could only focus on how soft she felt against your mouth, how addictively she invaded all your senses. She kissed you long enough that she could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin, and the taste of sea salt on your lips that would linger far after you had gone.

Realising what you had done you pulled away, squinting in embarrassment as you let out deep breaths. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me I—‘

‘—Don’t apologise for kissing me,’ Nell mumbled, placing her hands on your face, placing her lips back onto yours this time more rough. Like you were the air she breathed. The planet she rotated around. She wanted to kiss you and never stop.

Nell gently grabbed your chin, slowly pulling back from the kiss, deep down not wanting to break apart from you again. “Never apologise for kissing me again, Y/n.”

“Duly noted. O captain, my captain, kiss me again.” You giggled as you caught her lips again, throwing your arms around her neck.

[badassindistress]

[Read it on AO3]

Pardoned Highwaywoman’s eyes shine like stars It is this publication’s great honour to announce that Nell Jackson, dashing rogue and reported highwayman, has been pardoned by Her Majesty the Queen herself. Not only that, but Her Majesty saw fit to award the brave adventurer the position of Head of the Queen’s Royal Bodyguard for her astonishing feats of gallantry. This honour our rakishly charming highwaywoman humbly declined, with an inspiring speech that made the audience’s collective heart flutter with the force of unsung hopes and lovelorn dreams. Nell Jackson, unlike previously reported, is a kind and courageous soul whose only sin is inspiring hopelessly tender love in any innocent maiden she might encounter.

You may wonder, kind reader, how this editor has such intimate, such complete knowledge of such a famous personage as Nell Jackson, the woman reported to have the Devil’s tongue and a gaze so terrible she can turn the bravest man into a mere syllabub, quivering in his inadequacy? Wonder no more, dear reader, for I shall tell all. It was I, Miss Polly Honeycombe, newest editor to this very publication, youngest protégé of the Lady Eularia  Moggerhanger, the well-known pioneer of the printed word, who was the very young maiden who was kidnapped in a dastardly plot to catch Nell Jackson and prevent her from saving Queen and country and bringing justice and beauty to all the land. It is a thrilling tale that will exclusively unfold in this very publication in but a few days hence, but I will lift the veil and tell you some inspiring facts to whet your appetite for Truth and Justice.

Some have claimed that Nell is a soulless highwayman, that she delights in murder, that's she is Unnatural. Any who have claimed this must look to their own soul in shame. These vile rumours were spread by the very men who gloried in the crimes Nell was accused of.

It was the Earl of Poynton, a member of the Queen’s Privy Council, who, shock of shocks, was a Jacobite. He had summoned Herne the Hunter, who Nell Jackson so courageously slew, and it was he whose machinations caused the deaths of Lord Blanchford and Nell Jackson’s own excellent father.

So let me set the record straight, kind reader. When one meets Nell Jackson, one is not confronted with the terrifying visage of a devil. No, when one encounters Nell Jackson, one feels more a shiver of anticipation, fear melding deliciously with the sense that, finally, one's life has truly begun. While one might fear for one's possessions, will have to bear, for example, the loss of a favourite raspberry silk gown, one will gain instead a sense of purpose, of divine direction, of the high honour it is to be part of Nelly's journey.

In this editor’s humble opinion, there is no safer place than at Nell Jackson's side, an opinion I am joined in by none other than Her Majesty, elevating mere opinion practically to divine law.

Nell Jackson is an angel with a shining soul, put on this earth to protect the meek and challenge the unrighteous. Her goodness glows from her shining complexion and resounds in her every righteous proclamation. She is not Devil Nell, she is an Angel and all who are fortunate enough to have met her know it. So when next your carriage take the high road, take heart, for Nell Jackson is looking out for you.

Ed. Miss P. Honeycombe

[lozza421]

‘i’ll always fix you up’ | nell jackson

pairing: lesbian!nell jackson x lesbian! reader - can probably be read as anyone if wearing skirts is comfortable to you!

fandom: renegade nell

summary: post canon. post final battle. Nell is making her way out of the final battle having been injured, and reader fixes her up, taking care of her.

CW: mentions of blood and wounds, hints at death/loss, I think that’s it please let me know if there’s anymore

WC: 2.7k

i’m very open to feedback and comments so please feel free to comment, reblog, shoot me a message, and let me know what you think! ♥︎

—————————————————————————

“Nell!?” Roxy calls, a call full of hope and desperation.

My head flicks around, eyes darting to the sandstone entrance of the estate. A figure barely visible behind columns that tower, the human size appearing so small next to this grand structure.

“She’s there” Charles huffs out with relief. Whether it’s for his own confirmation or confirming it for Roxy, I’m not sure… and to be honest I don’t care right now. I haul myself off the ground and out of the huddle of people.

Hiking up my layers of dress I follow Roxy down the gravel path with a hurried pace, watching the limping figure full of deep reds run towards us. These reds filled her breeches, her long coat... the blood on her cheek.

Little Georgie’s close behind “Nelly!”

I stop just behind Roxy, letting her sisters breathe relief into Nell’s shoulder… relief that she’s still here and she’s okay. None of us were willing to say it out loud, but a knowing and troubled glance had been cast between eyes all day. Everyone knew whatever this battle was, it was big. And if Poynton could plunge us into night… God only knows if Nell had stood a chance. But here she was, soul and body together.

The air around Nell is heavy, her brows furrowed, and face scrunched so as not to sob in front of the people she always keeps a strong front for. Despite this, her crying breaths were the only sound that filled the air as she motioned for everyone to go in for a hug.

Slowly, each of us loosens our grip but stay close to offer support of her weight. My arm is linked under her right, Roxy on her left to take as much weight off her limping foot as we could. My own eyes are hot and stinging at this point, from either relief, worry, or both, but this was our turn to keep strong and together for Nell.

Making our way down the gravel path, it is slow and quiet, an air of hope and relief, but also filled with despair, from whatever Nell is feeling.

Here I notice Charles, linked arms with Her Majesty the Queen in the flesh, undoubtedly carrying out the beginnings of damage control. I presume more guards will be here soon to take the Queen back to the palace, and I presume Charles will go along to get back to his toff life. But right now my focus was Nell.

Ahead I could see the horses, with a look of unrest and unease in themselves, heads nodding up and down, hoofs kicking up the dirt under them as they trod about on the spot. There are two horses here, one a chestnut brown that looks almost ginger where the sunlight hits, the other, a broad and tall horse, with a dirty white coat. Both of these horses are saddled with a fine brown leather and all sorts of supplies hanging off it. I have always thought that horses were more in tune with their surroundings than humans. I’ve thought that maybe they’re ethereal in a sense… that they have to know something we don’t. Maybe Nell knows whatever this is too, hence her own unease.

Now standing next to the broad white horse I place my hands either side of Nell’s waist, hoisting her onto the horse.

“Alright?” I say to Roxy, George and Rasselas. They all nod.

“Alright,” Roxy replies, casting the most reassuring glance she could find in herself.

With legs of jelly that still felt like a thousand stones, I hoist my own body onto the saddle in front of Nell. Before I even manage to settle on it, Nell wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head between my shoulder blades.

I strain my head around and again ask her “Alright?” She just nods without lifting her head, her cheek brushing against the middle of my back with each movement, igniting a sort of fluttery feeling in my body.

Right now, with the low sun filtering through the oaks and birches, painting dancing shadows on her frizzy red hair, gentle features and closed lids, I couldn’t help but think she looked so pretty. She’d frown at me all funny if I ever told her that, but after not knowing whether I could’ve lost her today or not I had to stare for a second.

“Oi” Rasselas called, the other Trotter sisters piled around him on a chestnut brown horse, “We really gotta get back.”

This had abruptly taken me out of my moment of peaceful blatant staring, which no doubt didn’t go unnoticed by the others, to reach back and pat Nell’s thigh as I get the horse moving forward.

Back at the Talbot

I guide Nell threw her bedroom door, maintaining contact at every moment I can, whether it’s a hand on her back or arm. I don’t know whether I’ve done this to make sure she knows I’m here, or to make myself sure she’s still here. As we get in, I support her elbows as I sit her down on the edge of the bed, the white linen sheets laid out in a sort of picturesque way. Her usually warm brown eyes are glazed over and cast off to nowhere. What the hell happened in there to shake her up this much? Whatever it was it drives my instinct to just loosely grasp the dip in the back of her head and quickly, but firmly, I place a kiss at her hairline. This seems to just be enough to snap her out of whatever daze she was in and look up at me.

Those big brown eyes of hers will be the death of me, I think to myself.

I muster a tender smile; one I think isn’t totally convincing with a slightly furrowed brow. I reach for her hands in her lap as I squat below her line of eye.

“Nell… what happened in there?”

“I…” she lets out a brisk exhale, one I suspect hiding another sob. “I just lost the most important thing,” she places a hand under her nose, almost as if to catch any of her own soul that may come out through tears. Tears which begin rolling down her freckled, bloody cheeks.

I don’t know what to say to this, what can I say to make whatever this hurt is go away? Nothing I suspect. So I stay quiet for a moment, hands squeezing hers, looking up through the fallen bits of her hair to her squeezed eyes. The image of which gives a squeezing sensation in my own heart.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I whisper. She gives a small, quick nod, with the corners of her mouth moving slightly up. And although this is small, I notice it and take it as a thanks. I’d do this a hundred times over and more for her. Although I don’t know anything other than this that I can do for her right now.

Moving ever so slowly so as not to startle her, I stand up. I pull her coat down and away from her shoulders. She’s sitting on it, and I won’t dare move her right now, so I let the top half of it fall just behind her on the bed. Next, I move towards the knot of her patterned scarf. I slide between her legs to get closer to work on the knot, delicately untying it and pulling it down and under her ragged ponytail. Nell leans her head forward again, pressing it against my ribs, which very quickly leads to our arms being wrapped around each other tightly.

I don’t know how long we stayed like this. I soak it up though, her smell, how she feels pressed into me. I know Nell isn’t one for hugs normally, and even in the state she’s in, I’m selfish in enjoying it.

Nell and I have had a strong familiarity with one another for a long time now, since the Trotters gave me work at the Talbot. It helped me keep my bills paid and was always good company when I needed it. The Trotters have always been good to me. Still, there always has been something more between Nell and I. Glances that last a bit too long, comments made in jest (but not really), and a real thick air... so thick it doesn’t feel like you can cross it or break it. And often when I’m lying in bed, one side cold with white moonlight, I am warm with thoughts of Nell. Everything she is with her charisma, her strength, her perseverance. On these nights, I am also tormented with memories of the very long year we had been robbed of all that is Nell Jackson. This creeps around my mind, plaguing it. Never for long though, swiftly replaced with the joy that I know she’s only a few streets down.

Tonight, the air between Nell and myself doesn’t feel so thick. Tonight, our souls feel like they’re reaching out, making our bodies reach out too. This bliss with her is nice but worry is quickly filling my mind again.

“Nelly Jackson we really need to get these wounds cleaned up, yeah?” And with a brief, but noticed eye roll, I pull away and move towards the nightstand.

I reach into the bowl of water Roxy had put in here earlier with a cloth, and luckily the water was still lukewarm. I soak the cloth and make sure to ring it out enough to not drip everywhere. As I step back over to Nell, she’s got her back slightly slouched but face looking up waiting for me to tend to her. I start with her forehead. A nasty hit that happened many hours ago now, dried and crusted blood come off as I wipe the wound. She winces a bit.

“I’m sorry.”

She grabs my wrist in front of her face. “No need for that aye? You’re doin’ me a favour.”

“Yeah, well no, well... I’m just lookin’ after ya’, you know.” I say darting from one eye to another. “Looked like you took a good beatin’ back there I ain’t ever seen anybody thrown around as much as you and either lived to tell the tale or got up and walked away like you did.” I babble in one breath, still looking down right at her with what I can only presume is an expression of astonishment.

“Yeah… well… Billy saved me.” She mumbles.

“Billy?”

“Doesn’t matter, the point is… I don’t know what the point is but I made it out, yeah? And Poynton’s, well, he’s dead and now Sofia and Thomas are going God only knows where, but away from here. The Queen’s safe, Charles isn’t gonna get hanged so I guess the point is it all worked out?” Nell spits this out, jagged and almost like she’s trying to prove a point. But her tone sounds like a question.

“Yeah. Everyone’s safe. So why don’t I feel like you believe that?” I query.

“Doesn’t matter okay just leave it alone.”

This makes it loud and clear she’s done talking about this subject, so I widen the distance a little, but continue wiping down her face. She’s looking off to the side, just staring at the beams that line the roof. But I’m watching her, still, and I notice she’s in more discomfort than she’s letting on, and much more discomfort than a few cuts on her forehead and cheek are worth.

“Where does it hurt?” I ask. She spins her head back to me, a look of shock but quickly accepts that we have a way of reading each other.

“ ’ere.” She points to her right side. “And my back.”

“Can I have a look?” I ask gently, my hands slowly moving towards the hem of her shirt. She nods at me, reassuring me that this is okay, and I slide the white linen shirt over her head, careful not to bump the wounds.

At the first glance I shudder and let out an ‘oooow’ sound. She has a quick peek too but quickly looks away as if that’ll make it hurt less. With a proper look from myself (who is not a doctor), her right ribs are a deep, unsettling purple, the skin grazed and scabbed. I cast her a worrying glance, more directed towards wishing she wasn’t in this pain right now.

I refresh the cloth, then crouch in front of her, and with a feather touch, I clean it. Now, I’m mostly deeply focused on cleaning the wound and not causing more pain. But I’m not so focused that I don’t notice her looking very directly down at me. This, admittingly, makes me quite nervous. I feel a sudden tension, thick, and I’m urged to break it.

“You know I’d take your pain if I could right now…” I look up at her, eyes flicking between the task and her own encompassing eyes, and earnestly I say “I’m sorry you’re goin’ frew all this.” Nell stays silent after this, which has been of no help to me to cut the tension.

After I do the best I can, I crawl onto the bed and place myself cross-legged behind her. Again I wince at the sight of the injury but I don’t let her hear or see it. I want to do whatever I can to calm her. I pick up her ponytail and brush it over her left shoulder. I presume doing this has tickled her shoulder, because I notice an array of goosebumps growing on her shoulders and arms, particularly noticeable with the angle of the light beaming in the room. With the cloth around my hand, I start with the outside of the bruises and grazes and work my way to the middle of them.

We spend more minutes in silence. This time a comfortable and easy silence. I think we both find each other’s company mostly easy, when we don’t think about it too much.

Once I finish delicately and meticulously cleaning her back, I lean forward and place a kiss behind the last swipe of the cloth. A natural action, I find. But at this, she turns her head and torso back and just gawks at me. The eye contact feels intrusive but a welcome intrusion into my soul.

Nell leans closer in, just inches from my face, excruciatingly slow, and in this moment I’ve lost all concept of time. My thoughts run very fast, but some I catch are lips, soft, eyes. And God she looks so beautiful, bare shoulders in this low light, lips slightly parted, hair draped over one shoulder. I wish I could stare at a painting of that forever. These thoughts are very probably my last tether to composure because my body is leaning forward very quickly and pressing my lips against Nell’s full lips. We both relax into it quickly, and yet I quickly pull back.

“Sorry,” I whisper, fingers brushing my own lips in disbelief. An action you wouldn’t normally do in front of the person you just kissed and yet I have, because I think I’ve lost any sense of self-control. Before I’ve finished gathering a thought on what I’ve just done, Nell plants her own lips firmly on mine again. Instinctively, my hands move around, one planting at the nape of her neck and the other resting at her waist. The feeling of her skin feels divine.., magic.

I notice her hand, cold fingertips buried within my skirt running circles on my thigh. Yet again I’ve lost all senses. After who knows how long, we part. Our foreheads are firmly pressed together, guided by her hand on the back of my head, and we are panting hot breaths into each other’s mouths.

“I’ve thought about doing that a lot,” Nell admits, a smile of relief filling her face. There’s a warmth back in her eyes for now. No more distant stares.

“Hah, me too Nell. More than I’ll admit for now.”

“Thanks for lookin’ out for me. Don’t know what I’d do without ya’.” She huffs out.

“I’ll always fix you up.” I respond. I hold eye contact with her, so she’s assured that if anything serious comes outta my mouth, it’ll be this. I grab her hand in her lap, keep my forehead to hers and just close my eyes. And I hope that we can stay like this forever.

I repeat in a whisper, “I’ll always fix you up.”

[theshelbyclan]

Wives and husbands

Summary: Nell has a little talk with her sisters about love

A/N: this one was requested by a lovely anon, which came at a perfect timing because I’ve just binged the series and I absolutely love it! Also, I had the afternoon off for once. So here we go, written pretty quickly, and I hope you like it 😊

———

“How’s George?” Nell walked into the abandoned house at the deserted plague village and inquired loudly.

Roxy was just redressing her little sister’s wound and replied, “The ointment seems to work.”

“How did you get by that then?”

Roxy shrugged, but George quipped, “Roxy made it. She’s magic, Nell.”

“No she’s not,” Nell laughed, but added, “Are ya?”

“Dunno… it’s like something happens to me sometimes…”

The eldest Trotter paused and looked at her two younger sisters. The weight of the responsibility heavy on her shoulders, she sighed.

“It’s true!” George said, “She can see things, like around people and stuff.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s more like…” Roxy pondered, fiddling with the bandages, “It’s more like I can feel it. Like I get all warm and tingly and it’s just… there.”

“Right,” Nell pushed her aside and corrected the bandages, “That sounds an awful lot like something you’re far too young for.”

“Not that!”

“Not what?” George asked at once.

Both sister replied in unison, “Nothing!”

A few moments later, they’d finished taking care of her and George was back tucked into bed. But she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to know, “Are you talking about Roxy and Rasselas again? Like them kissing and that?”

“ ‘And that?’ “ Nell raised her eyebrows and turned to Roxy, “And bloody what?”

“Nothing!” She sighed, “We didn’t do nothing!”

“You better not! We don’t have time for all of that, you know that. And also, you’re still an actual child, so don’t even…”

But Roxy had had enough of it and interrupted, “Like you’re one to speak. You were sixteen, same as me, when you up and vanished with your Captain Jackson. To what, drink tea with him? Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot, Nell!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all,” she replied with some more sympathy in her voice.

“Rasselas wouldn’t hurt me. Besides, I’m a lot smarter than you.”

Nell opened her mouth to contradict, but decided against it. She was probably right actually. So she took another sip of her brandy instead.

George was the first one to speak again, “Did you like Captain Jackson, Nell?”

“Yeah, I liked him…”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Roxy scoffed.

“Come on, Rox, you knew what it was like. I was going mad up in that little pub, trapped between those four walls! I needed to find me a way out and so I did.”

“So you basically just used him?”

“No, it wasn’t even like that. If anything, we used each other, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Roxy pushed, “but did you love him?”

“I dunno… Now, can we please just forget about all this mush and move on? We’ve got stuff to do!” Nelly got up and started walking away.

But George wasn’t going to let things go that easily, “Would you marry again, Nell? Get another husband?”

“Yeah, of course. Maybe… I don’t know!” She sighed, “No. probably not.”

“She’s too busy playing the hero,” Roxy motioned at her little sister, “She doesn’t have time for what’s most important, does she?”

That made Nell stop. And she took Roxy’s hand and carefully said, “I know you think love is the most important thing right now. Of course you do, you’re only sixteen! Why do you think I ran off with some Captain I hardly knew at that age? I thought I was in love. And it was the most important thing. But it’s not. Keeping you two safe; that’s all that matters to me now, all right? Family is the most important thing. And after Pa… Well, we need to stick together and find a way out of this mess, yeah? Once I’ve got you two safe and settled, then I’ll think about love.”

Roxy visibly softened and smiled. Her sister wasn’t that bad, she was just built completely different from her. Roxy did all the thinking, but Nell did all the action. They were good together though.

“Then will you find a husband?” a high voice asked hopefully.

“I might!” Nell grinned, “Might even find myself a wife!”

“You can’t have a wife…”

“And why the hell not?”

“You’re not a man, Nelly, you’re my sister.”

“Don’t call me ‘Nelly’”, she muttered for the 10th time that week. “Yeah, but when I went out to get you that fancy doctor, I was the honourable Scottish so and so, right? So I could be a gentleman with a wife.”

“Yeah but that was just you playing dress up. Pretending, right?”

“Was I?”

George frowned, “Yeah, because you don’t like dresses.”

Nell had no idea how to explain all of this to a nine-year-old, “They’re just not for me.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, George! They just feel… wrong.”

Roxy looked down and waited. She’d known this for a long time already. She’d known Nell for a long time already.

“But you’re not a man neither, right?” George continued.

“Maybe I’m… neither. I like being able to go in and out, if that makes sense?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Do you like being call Georgiana?”

“No. I’m George.”

“Exactly!”

George looked at Roxy and said, “She’s not like you.”

“No, Roxy is the sensible one in the family. Or at least, she was, until she started going all lovey dovey over a boy she hardly knows…”

“Oh, shut up!” Roxy threw back. But to George she added, “It’s like with Nell, the clothes don’t really matter, right? But she can be a man and people will think she’s a man, and she can be a woman. But in the end, she’s not anything, because it’s just Nell, right? And she doesn’t like feeling trapped, like she said.”

“Right!” Nell beamed, “That’s what I mean.”

“So, is that why you’d rather fancy a wife…?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s not that complicated, George,” Roxy explained, “People just want you to be a certain way, but you don’t have to be anything. Just be you.”

Nell looked at her with admiration, “You really are much better at this than I am, Rox.”

“I know.”

Clearly thinking hard, George eventually said, “I think I’d rather fancy a wife myself.”

Nell rolled her eyes, “Absolutely not. I cannot deal with another one falling in love, all right? No wives or husbands or any kind of entanglements for you. Ever. Is that understood?”

Roxy laughed, which somehow annoyed Nell even more, “I’m serious!”

“Sure you are.”

And with that Nell stalked off, shouting over her shoulder: “No wives, no husbands, neither of you, alright!”

“Fine,” George sighed, “I’d much rather be my own wife anyways.”

Roxy grinned at her, “Good for you, George.”

[zephzephyrus]

and what if i wrote a nell one shot based off of “little lion man” by mumford and sons?? “i will wait”?? “the cave”?? what then??

[andshowmethestarss]

Just a little gif set to go with my most recent Nellfia fic:

I really like piecing together scenes from canon that look like they could belong together, even though they don't. So this was kind of the scene I imagined when writing my most recent fic (although being set in pre-canon they'd of course be a little younger) but it was still fun to have a bit of a visual. If you want, you can read it here, but this is a bit from the beginning —

There’s a part of Nell that almost can’t bring herself to keep walking forward.

Cobblestone fades to dirt beneath the soles of her boots, the town’s modest buildings are replaced by the trees and thick foliage off the beaten path, and when she nears the same clearing she’s stood in hundreds of times before, she has half a mind to turn right around.

It would be so simple to do.

She could head in the same direction she’d come from, like she’d never even shown up at all. She could pretend that letting go for the last time should be easier than this, except—

“Nell.”

That’s when she sees a familiar flash of brunette hair that she’s secretly both hoped for and dreaded, followed by gentle blue eyes that quickly find her own from beneath one of Broadwater Hall’s large perimeter stone archways.

No going back now.

Nell slows her pace as Sofia draws closer, watching as the hem of her long skirt drifts out and around her before ultimately lurching to a halt when she stops just short of where Nell has. Her expression is filled with a relief that Nell now feels guilty having almost denied her of, and her words are tinged with a hint of grateful astonishment.

“You came.”

“I wasn’t so sure I would,” Nell admits. “Almost changed my mind ’bout five times.”

Sofia nods slowly, and offers Nell the slightest shadow of a smile. “I know.” 

[dontcallmenelly]

art school babies !! inspired by “chemical reactions” by @something-special-you-are <3

[arya-skywalker]

Fae and Fate (Renegade Nell fic)

Summary: A look into Billy Blind’s mind leading up to his decision to introduce himself, and a slight variation on the scene itself.

Notes: Dipping my toes into the fandom with a little character study thing. Some canon dialogue, some lines tweaked or added. Technically more canon adjacent with the main difference being that Billy is slightly less stupid and slightly more fae, but events continue in roughly the same way.

AO3 link

Billy Blind knew two things: that humans were fragile but wonderful creatures, and that he had magic they didn’t. His powers came from light, from laughter and love, from all that was good and right. He could imbue a chosen human with strength and agility beyond their wildest dreams— but only for protection, never for personal gain. He could change his size and appearance, become invisible or intangible at will. He could see brief glimpses into the future— warnings of approaching danger or a sense that someone would do great things— but his past was lost to him.

Sometimes he’d hear a whisper of song, a long-forgotten tune that tugged at his heartstrings and filled him with longing. Something beyond mortal senses, something that was no longer his. Mushroom circles reminded him of a home he could scarcely remember; a doorway locked and barred, unable to be seen but there all the same.

When Billy first set eyes on Nell Jackson, he knew with every fiber of his being that fate had brought them together for a reason. She would be his human, his chosen vessel, his connection to the mortal realm. She was strong, stronger than she knew— not only in body, but in heart and spirit and mind. She stood up for herself and others.

It didn’t take long for Billy to realize she was maddeningly unpredictable as well. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, no, it kept things exciting! But still, it meant he had to adapt. He couldn’t make a proper deal, no, she jumped straight into danger before he could consider saying a word, and well now he had to protect her, didn’t he? So he did. That time, and the next, and the next, and blimey did she end up in danger rather often!

~*~

Billy watched from a distance as Nell returned home. She should be safe now, theoretically, but he still didn’t want to leave her. There was more to the story, their tale was not yet complete.

He learned that she had family, two younger sisters and a father. Everyone in town suspected she had died in the war with her husband. If Billy hadn’t intervened, she likely would have. Wars were terrible things. The local lord’s son had been wreaking havoc on her home town— which meant she wasn’t safe here after all and she still needed Billy’s protection. All the more reason to stay, at least a little while longer.

Billy respectfully did not watch as Nell went through her wardrobe transformation, but still he kept an ear out just in case. The sisters were catching up with each other; the subject moved to Nell’s late husband.

“I do miss him a bit. Except I don’t think he’s left me, even if he is dead,” Nell said. “It’s like today, I got held up by these highwaymen. And one of them hit me. And it’s like… I don’t know, something happens to me inside and… you should see me. I’m untouchable.”

Oh no. No, no, no! That wasn’t what he meant! Billy didn’t even know her late husband— or if he did he couldn’t remember. Perhaps the man’s death had somehow drawn Billy to her, but even if so, they weren’t the same person. Billy most certainly was no ghost, he was a fairy. Keeping up this ruse would be a lie. That wasn’t right.

He had to tell her the truth, somehow. When the time was right.

~*~

Billy watched as Nell made a fool of herself, wincing as that lord’s son threw her around like a sack of potatoes. But there were rules. She started it. She could stand to take a few punches. She had to learn a lesson in caution; throwing herself recklessly into danger expecting him to save her wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t always bail her out of situations she willingly got herself into. His powers were a special gift, not something to be wasted on petty quarrels.

There was a limit.

If her life was threatened, he could step in. If the lives of those she cared about were threatened, he could step in. If she was in danger of permanent injury, he could step in.

The whip was danger enough. One lash he let slip, seeing it would barely graze her cheek.

Then he shrunk into a speck of light and dove into her, filling her lungs and veins with his power. It was invigorating, disorienting, fulfilling. Time slowed around them. He felt her every move, her every emotion. They were one.

Her righteous fury filled him as his powers fueled her. A dangerous thing, that. But she got her revenge, and he protected her.

As soon as it was clear she and her family were safe, he withdrew and flew off, giving her some space and taking some time to think.

~*~

Now, the question was how? How could he reveal himself and get her to listen to a word he said?

He could try passing as a human. A simple glamor. The right size and shape as a normal man, nothing out of the ordinary. Say how he wanted to help, ask her opinion on magic, ease her into the reveal. That sort of thing.

But then again she had a habit of attacking anyone who frightened her or even looked at her the wrong way. That might be an issue.

He could try writing a note, explaining everything in detail and leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Except he knew she couldn’t read, and anyone who did read it would think it madness. Humans generally had difficulty believing in anything magical in nature, which was the whole problem to begin with.

Or he could just show up as himself and hope for the best. Put precautions in place so she wouldn’t hurt herself trying to fight him. Sometimes the simplest solution was most effective.

Right. Billy had to reveal himself. It had gone on long enough. He waited until they were alone in the middle of the night, less likely to be overheard.

“Nell. Nelly,” he whispered. When she barely acknowledged him, he shouted, “Nelly Jackson!” There, finally she moved!

“D-don’t scream,” he warned, then internally kicked himself. That was a foolish thing to start with. But he continued, “You need to look up.”

She opened her eyes, scanning the room, until finally she looked straight at him, eyes wide in shock. She saw him! Good. This was good.

“Oh, I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure out the best way to introduce myself without giving you a shock, Nelly Jackson,” Billy said. “Frankly, there isn’t one! Of course, it isn’t absolutely necessary that I should introduce myself.”

He stood on the beam, doing his best to appear more confident. “But in your case, I had a sneaking suspicion it might crop up sooner rather than later.” He flew towards her, slowly and cautiously.

Of course she immediately drew a pistol on him. Luckily he had prepared for that.

“So three things. One, I’m on your side. Two, that is not loaded.” He pointed to the gun. “And three, it won’t have any effect on me even if it was, for I am non-corporeal!” He did a little bow for effect.

“What do you mean you’re on my side?” Nell demanded. She didn’t lower the gun.

Clearly, words weren’t enough. Billy sighed. “Look at me,” he said, making sure she made eye contact before diving in and briefly sharing his powers. Just long enough for her to feel and acknowledge it, assuage her fears.

Then he flew out again and did a flip in midair. “I protect you!”

Nell stared at him, still wary, still holding the gun. “Why?”

“Because you are a very special person, Nell Jackson, and we will do great things together,” he said, believing every word and hoping she would too.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“I do, actually,” Billy countered. “I’ve been watching you. And I have the gift of foresight, a strong intuition and an excellent judge of character.”

Nell scoffed. “Watching me, have you?”

“A bit hard to protect you if I’m not around, yeah? I know you have a good heart, you’re brave, you stand up for the right things. Those are all good signs.”

“I didn’t ask you to protect me.”

“No, you didn’t. But you like it, don’t you? The power. I heard you boasting about being untouchable— and that’s not entirely true.”

Ah, there, now he truly had her attention! She wavered, more curious than wary now. Good. “Feels untouchable, that power,” she said. “There some catch?”

Billy nodded. “The more immediate point is this: I can only protect you, Nelly Jackson. I will not take part in random acts of violence.” He landed on the pistol and walked across it.

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Like earlier this evening,” Billy clarified.

“What? He’s a bully! He’s an arrogant lout, and he hurts people,” Nell protested.

“Be that as it may, he didn’t start anything. You did.”

“No, he was gonna!”

Billy shook his head. “Ain’t the point. It was an unnecessary risk, egging him on like that. You knew he’d lash out, and you expected me to enhance your abilities. You can’t rely on it, Nelly. My powers are a gift. I chose to give them to you, and I can choose when not to.”

“No, wait. You mean you let him whoop me about and you could have stopped it?!”

“I did stop it.”

“Not sooner!” Nell shouted. “Like when he was grinding my face in the mud!”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Thank goodness! Something to distract her from her anger. This was not going to plan. Not at all.

Nell glanced at the door, then back at him. “Who sent you? Where are you from? Look at you. What are you dressed as?”

That was a lot of questions. Most of which he hadn’t the foggiest clue of. And that last one was just plain insulting. He liked his clothes, thank you very much.

Before he could reply, the knock continued. Nell shot him a warning look and a “wait right there” and went to answer it. After a few steps, she paused and glanced back at him. “What’s your name? I mean, do you got one?”

It was time to give his name, to complete the bond and give himself fully. This was his best chance, a way to save this mess of a conversation. He took a breath and smiled.

“Yeah. Billy. Billy Blind. It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, Nell Jackson, and I look forward to what we can achieve together.” There, done! He felt a warmth in his chest as the bond sealed. He was her fairy, and she was his human. It was all official now, even if they took a roundabout route to get there.

“I’ll catch you later.” With a wink and a clap, he turned into a spark and flew off before she could ask any further questions.

[hopeconquersall]

Had this idea for a fanfiction.

Nell and the crew encounter a man called Simon who has a vendetta against Thomas Blatchford for killing his deaf wife. He’s a blacksmith and farmer who has tremendous strength, little fighting skills but is a damn good shooter.

He also has a wit that matches Nell’s. At first Nell hates him, because they find him in pocession of fine clothes and paintings in a carriage.

Nell reluctantly allows him to join, but she tries to break him down, thinking he’s got some other alternative motive. Saying he’s too manly looking to even have such a delicate wife, but following an encounter with Sofia, poynton and blatchford. the dynamic changes when they find out Simon was telling the truth and his wife is killed after being used as a tool in training Sofia to hone her dark magic skills. Even going so far as to making her hear and speak for the first time in her life…. Before killing her in the process.

Now, sharing a common bond Nell agrees to help Simon. She’s amazed that such a man would be so deep. A blacksmith with a liking of art. There are hints a that Nell and Simon have chemistry. They end up opening up to each other and become friends, treating each other as equals.

EDIT: I’ve just been thinking about this storyline. I came up with an idea that the reason Simon’s wife is taken by the villains is because she is in fact blessed with a sprite similar to Billy blind. Instead of giving her superpowers. It gives her the ability to hear and speak. But Poynton wants to extract the power of this sprite as a means of using mind control. But instead, the sprite enters Simon, giving him abilities similar to Nell, but he’s inexperienced, so Nell takes him under her wing and trains him to harness his skills.

[brutal-out-here]

Renegade Nell fanfic cast & prologue chapters up now!!

I should have chapter one and maybe 2 up by the end of the week!

[calummss]

I’ll Call You Mine | Nell Jackson

masterlist

summary: finding a suitor was hard when everyone in london wanted your sister and not you; at least until nell jackson arrived

pairing: lesbian! nell jackson x lesbian bridgerton! reader

words: 1.6k

a/n: basically a nell jackson bridgerton au hehe

Life as a Bridgerton was not always as easy as the people of the ton thought. Yes, you were a respected family and influential but it came with a price. You loved your sister dearly but having to compete with her when you knew she would always be ahead of you was not a comfortable situation to be in. People looked at Daphne first. Greeted her first. And now that Lady Whistledown declared her the diamond of the first water it had you feeling down. Daphne was beautiful and gentle and deserved nothing more than to be called the diamond of the season. But it was only further proof of her excellence, something you were not in possession of.

Callers came early in the morning and left early in the afternoon. All for Daphne, not a single one for you.

The next day it was the same, only quieter. A few callers came for Daphne, gifting her flowers and jewels. You sat on the sofa reading Jane Austen’s new novel when the staff announced there was another caller.

“Miss Jackson is here for Y/n.” He announced and seconds after a brown haired lady entered the room with the most unusual style of clothes. She wore a billowy white shirt, dark trousers and a matching waistcoat and jacket. A woman in men’s clothing. Yet she looked marvellous.

“Miss Jackson,” your mother stepped towards her with a concealed confused expression. “It is calling hour.”

“I am aware, Lady Bridgerton.” She said, “I’m here to call on Miss Y/n Bridgerton.”

She turned her head to meet your figure hiding in the far back of the room. You smiled at her as you took her in. She was beautiful. The type of beauty you would see beyond your day, wondering whether or not you would see them again. She had light brown hair, contrasting her skin that bore freckles across the apples of her cheeks and nose. Her smile was white and welcoming.

She came over to where you were now standing. “Miss Nell Jackson. I hope you don’t mind me saying that you are the most ethereal woman I have ever met.”

You felt the apples of your cheeks turn warm, thanking her and offering her the seat next to yours. “Normally calling hours are for men interested in the ton’s ladies,” you smiled.

“I am very well aware of the rules, Miss Y/n. I hope you are not bothered by my presence. I assure you if you feel uncomfortable I can leave—“

“Would you like to get acquainted with the garden?” You cut her off, deep down knowing that even if it was unusual for a woman to call upon another, you didn’t want her to leave.

“I would be delighted to.” She smiled in agreement.

You guided her towards the hallways where you briefly met your mother’s confused stare with the shrug of your shoulder. It was different but you liked it.

In the garden you sat on the swings your father built before he died. You had asked her if she wanted to sit down on the bench but she insisted that the swings were just fine.

“Excuse me for being so direct, Miss Jackson, but I do not know you nor do I believe we have ever seen each other…how is it you know me?”

“I must admit I’ve admired you from afar the last few weeks and was unsure whether to visit you during calling hours. I hope you do not feel awkward about all this”

“I do not.” You smiled at her. “I am rather enjoying myself.”

Nell smiled softly, the sunlight reflecting in her eyes as you caught yourself staring at her lips. Gently pressing against each other as her feet pushed her back and forth.

“I suppose you are looking for a wife this season?”

“Indeed I am.”

“What do you look for?”

“If I may be so direct but I think I already found what I’ve been looking for.”

You raised your eyebrows ever so slightly, taken aback by her choice of words. You admitted that you were glad to know of her intentions. It had only been thirty minutes but they showed you her true kind hearted nature. You were immediately smitten with her.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Well then I hope we meet each other at the Fraser’s ball in the upcoming days. I hope you will write down your name on my card?”

“I will find you before the night ends.” She reached out to place a kiss on your hand.

You cleared your throat, “Shall we ehm go back, it is most inappropriate to spend more than thirty minutes alone.”

“Of course, Miss Y/n.”

Back at the house you said your goodbyes and joined your mamma back in the drawing room, picking up the book Colin had gifted you from his travels.

“You cannot see her again.” Your mamma came through the door as soon as you heard the front door close. “People will talk of this if they find out.” She braced herself against the sofa.

“Why?”

“Because a woman called on you, Y/n!” She raised her voice but you could tell she didn’t mean to. “It is not done.”

“But I like her,”

“It doesn’t matter.” She breathed out heavily. “What if Lady Whistledown were to know of this. The entirety of the ton would know by tomorrow morning.”

Just as she finished her sentence Eloise and Penelope joined the room. Penelope greeted you with a smile.

“Well I like her, Mama.” You stood up and walked towards the end of the room to start reading.

“What happened?” Eloise asked.

“A Miss Nell Jackson called on your sister today.”

“A woman?”

Your mamma nodded.

“How exhilarating.”

“We will not speak of this again.”

A few days later the newest edition of Lady Whistledown appeared on your front door.

Dearest gentle readers,

prepare your smelling salts and hold on to your bonnets, for a revelation that will set the ton abuzz. In a society where the heart's true desires are often overshadowed by rigid expectations and whispered disapproval, it is high time we lift the veil on a most beautiful truth: love, in all its splendid forms, deserves celebration.

This author has observed, with no small amount of admiration, the tender affections shared between individuals of the same sex. These connections, whether whispered in secret gardens or displayed with courage at the grandest of balls, are as genuine and profound as any other. They speak to the very essence of what it means to be human: the desire to love and be loved without constraint or fear.

So, let us cast aside the shackles of convention and prejudice. Let us embrace a society where love, whether between gentlemen, ladies, or any soul in between, is met with the same respect and honour we afford all tender unions. For is it not love, dear readers, that makes the world a more delightful place? The heart knows no bounds, and neither should our acceptance of its many splendid forms.

We are all the creations of God and if he disapproved of equal live then why create it at all?

Yours Truly, Lady Whistledown

Even weeks after Lady Whistdown’s controversial edition the ton was still abuzz. Whilst very few disagreed, the majority had agreed with what was written. Multiple people since then had come forward about their true loves. It made you think of Nell. The last time you saw her was at the ball. She danced with you despite everyone’s eyes on you and all their mouths whispering of the scene in front of them

By the time the ton had settled it was inevitable to try and make society disapprove of the past events that by the time Lord and Lady Smythe-Smith held their annual ball, multiple same sex couples attended.

You were upset that you hadn’t seen Nell for quite some time. Ever since Whistledown she had disappeared. She wasn’t seen at any balls or in society as a whole. Tonight's ball had you wearing a pink gown with the most beautiful necklace that had been left for you by an anonymous person. Standing by the lemonade table you silently sulked next to your mamma as you watched the others dance. You were about to lean your head on your mamma’s shoulder when suddenly a familiar face showed up in front of you.

“Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, you must excuse my absence as I was unsure of what to do with the scandal that was the past weeks.” She admitted. “May I,” she turned her head to face you, “have your next dance?”

You looked at your mamma who slowly smiled and nodded, approving of your union.

“Yes I would like that very much.”

“I hope you don’t mind me writing my name down for all three dances?”

You let out a small laugh, “Not at all,”

“Beautiful necklace.”

“Someone sent it to me.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Of course I know it was you, Nellie Jackson.” You whispered into her ear as you watched her smile, talking your arms and guiding you towards the dance floor.

[el-ffej]

In retrospect, my irritation over the cancellation is, i think, overblown; my apologies.

Season 1 (and only) ended with a real one-and-done feel; it's a satisfying conclusion, though is open-ended for future stories.

I look forward to future works from Sally Wainwright (who, I understand, has a very full plate of future series at the BBC) and Louisa Harland.

And I really look forward to seeing what sort of sequels might appear over at AO3. God bless fanfic and all those who sail in it.

GOD DAMMIT.

It's probably the new show I've loved those most this year. (OF COURSE IT IS.)

[busylickingsatansballs]

Climb inside of me.

Nell Jackson x reader

Summary: Nell left you, will you give her a chance to make explain herself.

Notes: it only took me an hour, it's based off of a poem.

Inspired by the song Again - Noah Cyrus and XXXTENTACION

It hurt in a way you’d never felt before when she left, like grieving a missing limb. And then she’d died that pain was multiplied to the point of suffocation.

Then one night at the Talbot you saw her swan in the same way she left and your head started to spin.

She was back. And real, not something you’d made up to ease the grief.

You jump up and head for the front door heart pounding in your ears. Disappearing without so much as a back glance.

It killed her. So she’d asked Roxy to talk to you being too much of a coward to do it herself.

Roxy raced down the next day practically begging you to go see her. No doubt Nell had asked her to but you’d refused to let yourself even be entertained by the idea.

“she wants to see you ya know”  your head was already shaking side to side before she’d finished.

“She made her choice, she can just deal with it Roxy.” You had a very that was that tone as you fixed your hair, hands smoothing over your dress.

So Roxy didn’t waste her breath asking twice.

Fingers twist the material at your side, something you only did when nervous.

She’d frozen a second, hesitated like she wanted to say more but didn’t.

Knowing you were putting on a front deep down you wanted to see her, she relayed the message anyway.

The deflated look in Nell’s eyes when you refused to see her, broke her heart.

Muttering a sorry as she patted Nell in passing.

Nell couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how much she tossed and turned, fingers twisting in the sheets the gnawing, absence never settled.

Your face wouldn’t leave her mind.

You were best friends why couldn’t you forgive her?

Or at least you used to be before she ruined everything. There was no expectation of easiness but time had made her forgetful of your stubborn nature.

She’d get you back even if it killed her.

 You’d grown up together, she wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you go twice.

You the educated daughter of a wealthy doctor and Nell the uneducated daughter of a tavern owner.

She had no idea what you even saw in her sometimes but my god did she want to be seen by you.

You’d even slept in the same bed growing up, all snuggled up close under fading candle light fingers tight around your waist and Nell tried to pretend that it didn’t mean anything.

The delicate way you brushed your fingers over her features, faces just inches apart leaning close as you whispered to avoid waking anyone.

You consumed her. Lit the spark in her chest, she burned for you.  

That burn bled into your everyday lives, she could barely contain herself when the local men tried their luck. It was met with a polite decline from yourself or Nell threatening to beat the infatuation out of any boy who mustered up the courage to try.

Nell sometimes caught herself wishing she was a boy it would make everything so easy.

She’d make a good husband. Nobody would ever hurt you, make you cry or take advantage of your kindness again.

She’d always known she wasn’t like most girls and you only made it more obvious.

The thoughts started to scare her becoming more intense as you aged. So she’d done the only thing she could and married Jackson leaving as soon as possible. He was a good man, had understood her situation. Understood he was her way out.

Understood she would never be a normal wife.

You’d been heartbroken, friends your whole lives and not even a goodbye.

One day she was there and the next gone like a ghost.

Nell Jackson had broken your heart.

Eyes darting back and forth between your notes ignoring the burn in your eyes,

Thumbs rub them blurry but Nell’s face doesn’t leave your mind.

Your stomach twists with excitement as you finish writing a possible cure for a disease you’d been working on.

She seemed to be a lot of places you were lately.

You grown suspicious, suspecting Roxy of foul play sometimes but lacked the proper evidence to accuse.

You always found an excuse to leave. She didn’t need us, didn’t need you.

You’d avoided Nell for weeks, Roxy thought it was silly you opting to drink at home throwing yourself into your work.

Couldn’t you see that they needed you? Nell needed you?

You’d see the girls in passing but not as before, it was hard and you missed them but you all needed the space you’d convince yourself to ease the guilt.

You leaned back in your office chair stretching tired limbs throwing the book to the growing pile as you enjoy the silence.

It would be dark in a few hours so you wanted to enjoy the last few hours of sunlight in peace.

You’d earned a rest. Earned a break from your inner torment even if just for a moment.

Being the towns doctors daughter, people came to you all hours for help.

 You didn’t mind of course.

You were a sweetheart and the town loved you for it, beautiful, clever and exceptionally wealthy you had it all.

Well except a husband. But who wanted one of those?

Men were loud, rough and selfish. None of which appealed to you, women were soft, warm and smelled good.

Life would be so much easier if you could marry each other.

You often caught yourself wondering what it would be like curling up next to someone soft and warm..

A shake of your head puts a stop to that train of thought.

Those thoughts were for later, when it was dark and you could pretend your hand  was possessed, working of it’s own volition under your night gown. The thoughts that clouded your mind were put there by the devil himself to torment you.

You caved every time.

Especially these last few weeks you’d find Nell’s face creeping in more.

Which only made it harder to look at her.

You’d had proposals from all sorts of men looking to marry into your family, the ones looking for love. The ones who wanted money, the ones who wanted to use your brilliance for their own selfish reasons.

You turned them all down.

 One of the few lucky enough to have parents that didn’t care much about marriage marrying for love themselves.

The knock on your door startles, bringing you back to reality. You aren’t expecting anybody but then again you suppose you never were.

You look though the peephole, squinting till Nell’s features came into focus.

You swing the door open with more force than needed, Nell blinks in surprise.

“what do you want?” you know you sound rude, you try not to care.

 Hurt flashes over her features but it’s so fleeting you could have imagined it.

“well a hello wouldn’t go a miss”  irritation brews in your chest but it’s overshadowed with the ache of missing her.

You wanted to cry, bury your head in her neck and never let go.

“if I wanted to say hello I’d have called.” You quip cheeks hot.

You turn before she can see heading back the way you came with Nell at your heels.

You think you hear her close the door behind you.

You hope she has, it was hardly the safest village.

It doesn’t take long before your back in your office sitting back at your work station.

“figured I’d save you the trouble”  she stops awkwardly in the middle of the room taking it all in.

The overwhelming rows of books, ingredients. Scribbled notes scattering the table, Nell doesn’t think she’s ever seen so many books in her life.

“that why you’re here, to say hello?” your words come out thin and pinched, you find yourself silently cringing at your own voice.

If Nell notices she doesn’t say anything.

“Yeah well, I missed ya”  her fingers tap against a jar as she stares at the contents.

Your eyes watch Nell’s frame, she moves slow eyes scanning the various bottles and jars filled with all sorts.

“your the one who left” you huff.

“didn’t feel I ‘ad a choice” she’s looking at you now eyes gazing into your own.

“a goodbye would have been nice” you mutter.

“m sorry”

 Nell continues to study your shelves and the silence stretches on.

Too long.

“don’t touch that” your across the room in seconds hand gripping her wrist tightly, alarm in your tone.

Nell jars slightly, looking at your grip on her wrist.

“It’s a paralytic.” You offer, her blank stare let’s you know she doesn’t understand so you carry on.

“you’ll be unable to move, paralysing your body and lungs eventually until you suffocate and die.”

“Cheery” Nell lowers her eyes and you realise with great embarrassment you still haven’t let go of her wrist.

Dropping her wrist you put away the deadly concoctions in sight as a precaution.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to die.” You offer lamely.

Nell’s heart sores at your words, you still cared. “I wouldn’t worry about that, I’m magic.” her joke confuses you tone awkward.

Nell knows she sounds lame but she doesn’t know what else to offer.

You meet her gaze properly, her eyes are so pretty.

“did I do something wrong?” Nell’s mind goes blank, how could you ever do anything wrong?

“Course not, why would you think that?” you grip your skirt fingers tightening and untightening. Twisting and pulling until you can’t anymore.

Nell’s grip tightens around your hand gently pulling the offending hand from your already creased skirt.

“because you never said goodbye.” and it sounds like the most childish thing in the world to be upset about.

But you are.

She pulls you in, slowly guiding you until your eye level with her chin.

You daren’t let your eyes stray further. Her hand moves to hold your own squeezing gently.

 “I didn’t want to hurt ya, I had to leave. Had to leave before I did something stupid,” and of course it makes no sense.

“Stupid? I don’t understand” you pull gently, Nell doesn’t let go.

Pushing your wrists down until she’s forced to let go you take a step back.

“Stop talking in riddles and just be honest with me.”

Her brain freezes and she finds her mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out.

And so she does the only thing that she can, she kisses you.

Her lips are soft, warm. Unskilled they work against yours urgently.

Heat shoots down your spine coiling tight in your lower belly as she pushes you gently into the bookshelf behind.

You think you hear something fall but you don’t care. She’s so soft, eager and my god does she smell good.

Gasping for air you reluctantly pull back, releasing a shaky breath foreheads pressed together.  

You think you hear here apologising but it doesn’t register.

How on earth could she be sorry for that?

“I shouldn’t have done that” it’s not an apology but close enough.

“why not?” Nell doesn’t have an answer, you didn’t seem upset which was a win. 

She steps back and you panic.

Nell doesn’t miss it, moving closer to soothe you. “hey I ain’t goin nowhere” relaxing, you nod and step closer.

“it’s going to be dark soon, you should stay.”

Nodding wordlessly, Nell finds herself hypnotised as you lead her upstairs.

Finding herself in your bedroom watching you undress for bed, Nell can’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world perching on the end of your bed.

You blush turning to find her gaze already on you.

“you sleeping like that?” you gesture towards her outfit. Trousers, boots, hat and a gentleman’s coat.

Pulling off her boots and coat, she hangs her hat over your bedpost, you blow out the candle.

Pushing herself up the bed as you crawled to meet her.

Snuggling up you press your head against her chest as you both get comfortable.

Whatever happened, you had each other. You were home.

[zephzephyrus]

guys,,,guys. do i….injure charles?? not majorly (i think) but maybe for plot reasons??? okay, not entirely for plot reasons, but i see an opportunity for it and will maybe do it, but oNLy! if y’all would maybe want that. otherwise he’ll be fine

[andshowmethestarss]

Little one shot exploring the idea of pre-canon Nellfia

[zephzephyrus]

GUYS ITS UP

In which Nell is in for a ride after getting her shit rocked.