OneWhoTurns

A/N Sept 2018: So I wrote this a while back, and intended it to be part of a longer fic, with this as the ‘jumping right into the deep end’ nightmare prologue, but it works well enough as a standalone ficlet. I may end up posting on AO3/FFnet, I may not. For more of my work - AO3, FFnet, ko-fi. This one is... dark. Gory. Perhaps depressing. But, as I said, it’s a nightmare.

Title: beastly
Chapter: 1/1
Characters: Emily Kaldwin
Word count: 2289
Rating: T/M for canon-typical gore
Summary: Emily has a nightmare?

Emily felt the sting and burn of the blade cutting into her flesh even as she ducked and dodged, but, true to her training, she didn’t falter. A flash of steel and one attacker fell, grabbing at his sliced tendon, a thud and he was out cold thanks to a heavy blow to the temple. She tried not to kill them. She’d been trying. But her non-lethal ammo ran out after the first ten or twenty and they seemed to keep coming.

Her Void-given abilities had helped take them down efficiently at first, but she only had so much energy. The bodies had begun to pile up. For a fairly large room, there wasn’t much space to maneuver around the unconscious bodies that littered the floor.

How long had she been fighting? It felt like ages, though she knew it couldn’t have been that long -- time seemed to slow in a fight, but it couldn’t have been more than eight minutes. Still, eight minutes was an eternity. Most fights were over in one, maybe two. But - seven strictures - they kept coming.

A/N Aug 2018: So I kept writing. And I’m still working on it, on page 13 now... It’s devolved. Gotten a bit... smutty. As expected, I suppose. Regardless, here’s some more. Feel free to find me on AO3, FFnet, or buy me a ko-fi.

Title: The Rhyme of the Rosewater Hag
Chapter: 2/3
Pairing: Emily/Outsider (emsider)
Word count: 2743
Rating: T bordering on M
Summary: “That’s a lie.” // “May the Outsider claim my lying tongue if it is.”
start here (1/3), next part (3/3)

“Your little friend was right, you know;”

She gasped in surprise, and immediately cursed herself, expecting to choke on icy water, but whatever she was breathing-

“The Hag isn’t someone to trifle with.”

A/N Apr 2018: Eh, it’s not much, but here’s a little bebe scene. Grumpy Emily took a tumble. 

Word count: 485
Rating: PG

“This is beyond unnecessary.” She shot him a sidelong skeptical glance but he paid no attention, a pair of tweezers in one his hands as he examined one of hers under lamplight. “…Really, I’ve had much worse,” she added, clenching her jaw briefly as he plucked free a particularly nasty sliver of glass.

Title: Roving Feet
Chapter: 2/2
Pairing: Emily/Outsider (emsider)
Word count: 3143
Rating: T, bordering on M -- fade to black
Summary: “Come on in, Empress.” His voice was even, relaxed, and when she blinked into dark vision she saw him around the corner of the window, facing inward, as though waiting for her to appear. So she did.
start here (1/2)

She didn’t visit him for a long time after that. She covered her fear with anger. He was manipulating her. She shouldn’t feel bad for the man, he didn’t want her pity -- but maybe he wanted her anger. Was that what he wanted? For her to be mad at him? He seemed to teem with some surging writhing something and parsing out just what that was was beyond her. She didn’t have the energy to invest.

The Outsider became just another subject she was briefed on. How his health was, plans for integrating him into society. He would need a name.

“Will we give him a title?”

Corvo seemed surprised at her question. “I… hadn’t considered it.”

She avoided her father’s eyes, keeping her tone blasé and her eyes glued to the papers she perused. “It seems he would be useful to have on hand in case of any… Void-related occurrences.”

Her father’s body stilled and his eyes narrowed. Maybe she was a little too eager. “...Void-related occurrences,” he repeated, just barely holding back his incredulity.

Title: scandal
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Emily/Outsider [emsider]
Word count: 3955
Rating: T
Summary: “If I asked you to-” The confident words died on her tongue as she met his gaze again. His pale, knowing, fiery gaze. She was breathless. // “You know I would.”

“Yes, thank you, that’s - yes, that’s-” Emily found her irritation growing as the gentleman before her bobbed his bow again and again, but she kept her face placid. “Yes, Lord Durham, that’s very-” again, he bowed, “-very good. I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors, truly. Now, if you don’t mind-” She side-stepped the pinch-faced man who had been rambling on about some new projects he’d be able to move forward thanks to her most recent negotiations of trade agreements and… She sighed. It didn’t matter. Just the thought of policy meetings and paperwork made her legs heavy.

“Why do you let these people close to me?” Her voice was low as she directed the dry comment to her father, who had quickly fallen in step with her when she’d left her last conversation. “I swear, there’s some maniac pulling the strings who wishes to bore me to death. Aren’t you supposed to be Royally Protecting me?”

She just barely spotted Corvo’s crooked smile out of the corner of her eye as he ducked his head. “And I am, Your Majesty. Even if you don’t believe it.”

A/N Mar 2018: Well, I wrote my first emsider ficlet. 

I think I spent too long on it, but I like how it came out. So... enjoy, I guess. If you like it (and feel like it), I’d love a review or a ko-fi.

Title: heresy
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Emily/Outsider [emsider]
Word count: 1744
Rating: T? acknowledges the existence of sex
Summary/Prompt: "Playing at heresy, Your Imperial Majesty?”

She'd received the scrimshaw bracelet as part of a series of unwanted gifts from Whitecliff, supposedly meant to reinforce the bond between the Crown and the Abbey. More like a reminder that the Abbey was always watching. The bracelet was a series of six whalebone panels: four for the four isles of the Empire, one for the Abbey, one for the Crown. It was carefully and intricately crafted - she was sure whoever had made it must have spent months with fine delicate tools - each panel depicting a highly detailed scene specific to that facet of the Empire. 

Emily ran her thumb over the panel meant to represent Gristol -- a whale in a sling. A slaughterhouse, to represent her homeland. And of course next to it, on the panel representing the Crown: her face.

The juxtaposition made her ill.