#Corvo Bridges

[kukzoa]

protagonists of the games i played this summer 2024 (who can guess them all w/o looking at hashtags deserves a cookie)

shoutout to my mom, ty for building a ✨g a m i n g p c✨ for me to play those EPIC GREAT GAMES, you are the real one

[edsonjnovaes]

9 FILMES DE FICÇÃO CIENTÍFICA QUE AS PESSOAS ESQUECERAM

Desde sempre, a ficção científica nos ofereceu um prisma para ver o mundo de forma diferente. Seja tecendo críticas à alienação e ao controle da população ou imaginando um mundo de possibilidades ilimitadas, o gênero sempre andou no limite entre a maravilha e o grotesco, com mistérios descobertos graças à tecnologia e à ciência. GUS FIAUX – Legião dos Heróis THX 1138 (1971) Muito antes de se…

[wrenhavenriver]

(quotes slightly truncated for character limits. i also ran out of options but feel free to add your personal faves in tags. tkod/tbw versions coming out later, these are just from base game dh1!)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Aesthetic vs Function

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )     “Sir, I am getting several urgent dispatches from the loading area.”

Captain Morris looked up from his data pad at his communications officer.

“Is something wrong?” he asked as he stood up and walked over to their terminal station on the bridge. The officer held his hand to his headset, listening to the messages before answering his captain.

“It appears several of the Corvo soldiers are refusing to relinquish their weapons. Security got involved and the Corvo resisted; two arms men were injured.”

This perked Morris’s interest, and not in a good way. The Corvo were allies in the war effort and he had heard of their abnormal customs from other captains so he had been prepared to give them some leeway while they traveled on his ship, but it was another matter entirely when his crew were harmed.

“Mr. Dover,” Morris called out, “a word if you would.”

From the opposite side of the bridge the master-at-arms Tristan Dover strode over to his captain. He was not a tall man, but wide in frame. His broad muscled shoulders meant that in some instances aboard the ship he needed to turn himself to be able to pass through doorways.

Tristan stood at attention and saluted Morris who returned the salute in kind.

“Are you aware of the situation in loading bay…”

 The captain turned to his communications officer who quickly understood the meaning and spoke “Loading Bay 4.”

“Thank you, “the captain replied before continuing, “yes, are you aware of the situation in loading bay 4?”

“I am sir.” Travis replied crisply. “My security details passed the word along to me just now.”

“Any further details?” the captain inquired.

Travis crossed his arms. “I was told that the Corvo refused to relinquish their weapons upon entering the loading bay. When the matter was pressed and the security detail made to enforce the issue the Corvo drew their weapons and attacked them.”

“Casualties?”

Travis shook his head. “Minor wounds only.”

The captain nodded. He paced back and forth between the terminals, stopping to read strands of data or make a quick check with the monitoring officer, then returned back and pointed at the communication officer.

“Tell the security details to hold the Corvo in the loading bay until Mr. Dover arrives.”

The officer nodded and relayed the order over the com while Morris leaned in close to Travis.

“Remind our guests that this is my ship, and while they are on my ship they will follow my rules and that injuring my crew is not to be tolerated.”

Morris leaned back and was about to leave when he stopped himself and leaned back in. “I don’t mind a dirty decking, so long as it is not cluttered.”

Travis nodded at his captain and left the bridge; cracking his knuckles and flashing a smile. -----------------

It took about thirty minutes for Travis to make it to Loading Bay 4. He needed to make a quick stop at the armory to grab a few things. When he arrived he found at least a dozen security officers standing in a line separating the Corvo from the rest of the loading bay. The deck crew still went about their duties save for the occasional glance over at the commotion.

The Corvo were easy to pick out from behind the wall of security as despite having a humanoid form stood roughly seven feet tall on average. They were adorned in a mixture of combat armor and religious robes.

As Travis approached the security officers stepped aside to make a path for him. When he got to the front one of saluted.

“Good to see you sir.” They replied crisply. Travis grunted in response and stepped forward to the Corvo’s.

“I understand there has been an incident here and you have attacked our crew.” Travis began with a calm yet authoritative voice. “I am here by order of the captain to remind you that while we are allies you will follow the rules of this ship while you are onboard.”

One of the Corvo stepped forward and looked down at Travis. His shoulder guard was decorated with three blue stripes signifying that he was the leader; or at least that’s what Travis thought it meant. The only thing he generally cared about in briefings when dealing with aliens were ordinance and cultural triggers for violence.

“I am Mak’t, and I would apologize for this misunderstanding.”

He reached down and began pulling out what appeared to be a sword from a sheath. The security officers made to raise their weapons but Travis forestalled them with a wave.

“These, “ Mak’t began as he pulled the sword free, “are our Okamban blades, sacred to our people.”

As he fully withdrew the blade it burst into bright blue flames as if the very air ignited it on contact.

“It is said that so long as these blades burn the spirit of our ancestors continue to watch over us on the battlefield; and so we could not surrender them as your officers asked.”

Travis watched the flame flicker brightly and whistled in wonder. “A fancier blade I have not seen,” Travis admitted, “but I find it rather odd in this age to bring a sword to a neutron cannon fight.”

Mak’t sheathed his sword once more while shaking his head.

“Forgive me for saying, but the weapons of your people and of our enemies are inferior to our blades.” He rested a hand on the hilt and looked down at Travis, matching his cold gaze with his own. “We have been trained to block their attacks on the battlefield rendering them useless before us.”

Some of the security officers behind Travis rustled at that remark but he paid them no mind.

“Seems we’re at a bit of an impasse here then, friend.” Travis admitted. “Luckily for you the Captain has given me the authority to resolve this situation.”

He pointed to the collection of warriors standing behind Mak’t. “If you and two of your warriors can land a single blow on me with your blades then you can keep them while onboard, but if I win you will surrender them without hesitation and spend the remainder of this journey in the brig for the assault you carried out.”

Mak’t looked puzzled at this challenge. “Why would you face three of us alone?”

Travis smiled. “Thought I’d give you a fighting chance,” he said mockingly as the Corvo warriors growled in anger, “seeing that your disadvantage with weaponry is so staggering.”

Saying nothing at first, Mak’t just looked down at the tiny human before him before nodding in agreement. He made a soft clicking sound and two other Corvo warriors stepped forward, each drawing their blades while the human security officers stepped back to create a ring like circle around the parties.

“So, we’ll go on the count of three then.” Travis announced. His hands casually cradled a rifle between them as he watched the three Corvo warriors prepare themselves. Each took a different stance with the light of their flaming swords casting dozens of differing shadows about them.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

The Corvo warriors to either side of Mak’t lunged forward ready to bring down their flaming swords in an instant; screaming in their alien language as they got within three feet of Travis before he brought up his own rifle.

In a flash Travis brought up his rifle and fired at the closest warrior. The sudden attack broke the warriors forward momentum as they brought their weapon up to block the attack only to find that rather than an energy blast they were being pelted with dozens of tiny rocks.

The flaming sword blocked some of them but far too many simply went around the sword and embedded themselves into the alien’s skin causing them to scream out in pain and fall to the ground.

From the corner of his eye Travis saw a blur of motion and side stepped just in time to avoid the downward swing of the second warrior. The blade carved into the decking with a loud hissing sound before the warrior pivoted and brought the blade up for a slash at Travis’s midriff.

Pulling a knife free that had been strapped to his leg he casually flung it into the blade rather than around it. The second warrior was confused until they felt the burning hot sting of molten metal the knife had been reduced to shower his body. The armor he wore protected some of their frame but since they were not wearing a helmet a glob of red hot metal landed on the alien’s cheek giving off a stench of burning flesh.

Surprisingly the warrior rallied themselves than give into the pain only for Travis to bring up his rifle and fire another scatter shot center mass sending them balling over in pain. Travis couldn’t see but given the goop now dotted around the floor he wagered some of the rock salt just punctured one of their eyes.

With the two companions dealt with Travis turned his attention to Mak’t who had not engaged like the others when the fight began.

“You fight without honor.” Mak’t announced. “To use such trickery against true warriors is the act of a coward.”

“If I recall you said you were trained to defeat modern weapons,” Travis countered, standing between the downed Corvo warriors, “that my attacks would be rendered useless by your weapons.”

 He unceremoniously kicked one of them hard in the back drawing the ire of Mak’t as he took up a stance for the first time.

“I even gave you a three on one advantage and you still say I am being unfair.”

“Your tricks will not work on me.” Mak’t declared.

Travis didn’t even bother to respond as he casually pulled a canister from a harness across his chest and threw it directly at Mak’t’s feet. Mak’t jumped backwards expecting further trickery rather than attempting to deflect it. To his surprise the canister did indeed not explode but rather began shooting out large volumes of a thick white gas.

The gas began to billow out more and more until the gathered ring of spectators was engulfed by it. Mak’t looked up from the canister just in time to see Travis donning a strange mask over his eyes and mouth.

It was only then that Mak’t heard coughing and gasping from his fellow Corvo warriors behind him and realized the gas must be some form of airborne weapon. He tightly clenched his mouth shut and carefully stepped forward to meet Travis in final combat. His breathing control would allow him at least ten minutes before he needed to inhale again giving him more than enou-

Mak’t made it barely three steps before his eyes began burning. They felt as if hot daggers were being shoved into them and twisted by the most merciless tormentor. This sudden influx of pain broke Mak’t’s concentration and he gasped out for air. No sooner had he taken his first breath did his lungs begin to share the burning sensation his eyes did, forcing the warrior to his knees as his hands feebly wiped his eyes again and again.

Through the blurry sight left to him he watched as Travis walked through the white cloud and stood over him. The human looked down at him and Mak’t could only imagine the look of smug satisfaction he must have held to see him brought so low.

Instead of gloating or boasting about how their weapons weren’t as inferior as Mak’t had declared, he brought down his fist as hard as he could against the alien’s face sending him straight to the floor.

“I think we count this as my win, yeah?” Travis asked the now unconscious Mak’t. He waved over the rest of the security officers who had likewise donned gas masks of their own and began the process of collecting the decorative swords from their guests before ushering them down to the med bay and finally their new home in the brig.

[icedjuiceboxes]

We can discuss the possibilities how Corvo told Emily he was her father but this is how the public found out

Bonus:

A follow up, of sorts, to this comic

Emily's teen design can be seen in full here (I just wanted something to bridge between her Dh1 and Dh2 designs)

[mioritic]

Frederick Rolfe (aka "Baron Corvo", English, 1860-1913), with John Holden and Leon Schwartz, 1896

"I remain upset not to have known Rolfe, who, during that summer of 1909 when we were both in Venice, was known as 'Baron Corvo' [...] Why did he adopt the name 'Corvo'? Why this nevermore? Out of romanticism? Rolfe always loved heraldry; as a seminarian, he composed arms and devised banners, and he would arrive to the refectory with a stuffed crow perched on his shoulder. Corvo was a mixture of Léon Bloy and Genet, of Max Jacob and Maurice Sachs. A life of loneliness and poverty, he was unstable and eccentric in character, litigious, spiteful, devious, and vindictive; he was gifted in all the arts; he was constantly angry with his friends; he analysed horoscopes, and he was intoxicated with the Church's past and with the Renaissance; he adored Catholic pomp and ceremony, but he had no vocation for the priesthood and he was expelled from every college, from sinecures, from salons and asylums... A member of the Bucentaure nautical club, Corvo had even learned to steer a gondola, a very difficult art at which I have only seen one woman, Winnaretta de P., excel, because a poorly-directed blade can run the risk, as President de Brosses says, of cutting off someone's head 'like a turnip'; or to cleave a gondolier's in two underneath a bridge. Corvo, if he were to fall into the water, continued to smoke his pipe just like Byron, who would lie flat on his back in the Grand Canal with his cigar in his mouth, in order to (in his words) 'not lose sight of the stars'; his valet followed behind, in a gondola, his master's clothing on his arm."

Paul Morand, Venises (Paris: Gallimard, 1971)

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

godspeed dealing with marineford all over again because it couldn't be i am not god's strongest soldier. but in the spirit of ace simping, what was the first meeting like?

when both moots & anons are alike are basically sending their thoughts and prayers because you're rewatching the summit war TAT really the only way i'm getting through it is the delulu that in my selfship ace is very much alive and well

but as far as first meetings go, it was kind of a sitcom ass first meeting ngl. ace and i meet when we're both 10 (me being older by almost a month (december 9th to his january 1st)) not long after garp took luffy to live at dadan's

and luffy and i weren't really friends when that happened. the age gap wasn't huge or anything, only 3 years, but i had an established friend group that didn't really resonate with his pirate dream (most of my friends wanted to be marines, i just wanted to sail on the ocean. marines were a 'no' from me because it seemed too strict and i wanted to sail unbridled and free and going wherever i wanted) and he was pretty obsessed with shanks and playing with uta til she up and disappeared then shanks took off and garp yeeted him to mt corvo

so after deliberating on it and just feeling bad for the guy because being the weird black kid + the happy kid no one thinks ever gets sad or lonely myself, i felt bad for him and decided to go and visit him in spite of the grown folks business discussions that luffy was apparently living with bandits now

but he wasn't there the first time. or second time (because ace punted his ass off that damn bridge) til finally luffy's ass is back but he isn't at the house because he's off chasing ace another kid who apparently lives there. which happened a second time.

so i got fed up and decided to leave my place soooo early that there was no way i could miss luffy. and i didn't but he was chasing after ace so i started chasing after luffy and thus my next 3 months of ace chase ensued. ace thought i was just as annoying as luffy if not more because i was kinda loud and i never stopped talking and if it got too late or i was too tired to go back down the mountain, i just stayed the night at dadan's (my grandpa let my ass go on adventures in this lore)

dadan is very much dealing with an eye twitch because of it but at least i'm not a permanent resident....... yet

spare a selfship ask for an ace simp putting herself through torture. willingly

[gludgenbell]

On which is your OC more likely to focus their attention: the past, the present, or the future?

Corvo - The future! He has goals in mind and the kingdom of krysa needs to reach it for their own good! It can be a place of peace and green, he just needs to work a little harder

Harvey - The past! She often gets stuck as a little girl seeing her sister die and being outcasted from her family, and most what she does are because of that! She can't go through the same thing again

Akemi - The present! What happened back then and what will happen tomorrow doesn't matter anymore, all that matters is how things are right now- and right now he's going to be a god! Who cares if the glamor fades after an instant, he'll cross that bridge when he gets there

[torntruth]

THEY COULD BE IN THE EYE OF THE STORM , but they're not. the hurricane has wiped out so much , but they just picked up the pieces and rebuilt or started anew where they could. some things needed to be destroyed. and some things needed to be held onto. THEY PICKED THOSE THINGS. together. as emily and alexi. two people that have given so much for the empire just to be chewed alive. now it's their time to chew. it's their time to hold onto to each other.

the smile emily gives alexi is so soft. it's this simple curl to the corner of her lips. dark brown eyes just regarding the woman's features so quietly , admiration absolutely written in the stare. at least ... before she tilts her head and that small smile turns into a playful smirk. emily hops off the bed and emily before quickly moving to wrap her arms around alexi's waist and promptly hauled the woman over her shoulder. something she did fairly easily. the about 3 layers of clothes does hide that she's fairly built rather well. it's all that training from corvo and the sparring with alexi , of course.

alexi barely got a word out when emily lowered the sword. corvo's sword. it was just more so the look in alexi's eyes. she feels like that can't be necessarily duplicated either. THE WAY YOU LOVE SOMEONE CAN'T BE REPLICATED. and love can be uttered without a single sound. corvo's sword is just resting by emily's side and she takes a step back. there's deep breath in before it's released and it sounds like absolute RELIEF . her hand comes up to pinch the bridge of her nose , eyes closing. she has been rushing around this past month. clothes dirty. hair that's usually without a single strand out of place rather messy. she had billie , sokolov , and , stilton that she could trust but nobody that she could really FEEL with. nobody that she could take a breath around. there's just a moment where she gathers her thoughts because she has a million questions , it's just at this moment she needs to focus on delilah.

" i take it you have a large part in the small rebel force that's keeping both delilah's witches and the gangs from absolutely massacring every remaining citizen? "

Everything felt as calm as it would be after a hurricane. Almost as if the aftermath had no impact… no grief, agony nor hopelessness upon the sight of the destruction mother nature left behind. To Alexi, it felt as if she was sitting on the beach again and listening to the gentle crash of each wave. You know that pleasant sound you hear when you hold up a seashell to your ear? That’s exactly what Emily’s laugh is to Alexi. A sound she wishes she could bottle up and treasure it forever, had it been possible.

A hand slid back into Emily’s hair and cradled the back of her head – her other arm wrapped around her best friend’s waist, protectively holding her close.

Honestly, she would be happy to sit here and hold Emily all night long as her lover slept on her… but a bath sounded even better especially with the promising comfort Emily’s bed certainly would offer. It was then that she realized how dirty her sweat-soiled outfit was from the long day in the blazing summer heat. Yeah, maybe she did feel a little gross right now. With a quiet chuckle of her own, she loosened her grip on Emily’s hair and waist, hands falling down to lay on Emily’s thighs – giving them a squeeze.

“That sounds incredible to me, let’s go.”

[ 𝐹𝐿𝐴𝑆𝐻𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾 ] – Normally, her instincts and senses are SHARP. Anytime she feels a presence nearby, or right behind her… her hand immediately would find the hilt of her sword. More so, she would always sense Emily’s presence whenever they’re in the same area or building before they enter within one other’s sight range. This time was the first where she is caught off guard, mind a tad weaker due to stressful events.

She barely feels the tip of the blade against her neck, carefully swallowing and sea-colored eyes dart around Emily’s face, too. Still in disbelief, till she sees the tiny scar on the Empress’s face. The same scar she knows by heart because she was there when Emily got it during one of their childhood adventures. She questions it for a moment in her head: can Delilah or her loyalists copy every detail of a person right down to their freckles?

Then she hears the question, and her heart gives that shuddering sigh of pure relief – despite the parts of her that felt this couldn’t be real.

She laughs, quietly, it was soft and free of negative connotations. “…you called me an idiot. I’d never forget the intense worry in your eyes.” She began to whisper back in response, lips curling ever so slightly into a smile. “And just how you were not embarrassed to let it show. Especially when I whispered back to you, ’Told you I wasn’t joking when I said I would put my life on the line for you.’”

The entire time, her eyes never left Emily’s.

[marilynsweet]

Another set of villagers/background characters that I get wholly and too invested in

Alphonse, Simon, Jamison, Corvo, Arthur, and Allen belong to @void-walker-gaster

Giselle belongs to @darknr-prince

[kyrdjava]

Help, my Adam Jensen fixation is getting out of hand

[icedjuiceboxes]

New dishonored au bc I'm insane okay:

Billie being DH1!Emily royal protector

So.

While heirs to the throne get to choose their royal protector at the age 11, Jessamine and Corvo decides to let Emily choose her a year early. Especially with Corvo about to take his trip across with the Isles to find aid for the plague.

Hiram Burrows overhears this. He drags Billie lurk into the Tower and fabricates all the documents that says shes been with the watch for some time. Well accomplished- even saved the high overseer Campbell's life at some point. It's perfect- bring in Daud's right hand man to do recon right at the source in plain sight.

Corvo and Jess are none the wiser- Corvo double checks Billie's background, but finds little to argue with when he has testimonials from Burrows and Campbell. She's not a bad match, young, full of energy. can keep up with Emily.

Emily was tempted to argue with the choice, especially since she didn't get to choose, and worse of all Burrows picked Billie- a man Emily hates with all the fury a ten y/o could muster. She was tempted- but excitement won over being petty. And it did helped Billie mindlessly made a comment about Burrows, throwing him under the bus in favor to win Emily over.

So that was it. Billie joined Emily's side, and by extension, the empress' side as well while Corvo traveled the isles.

Emily showed Billie all the best hiding spots in the Tower, and all the ways she sneaks away to get away from lessons. When Billie wasn't needed, she reported back to Daud, every little detail the young empress was so kind to share.

At some point Delilah meets with Billie, knowing what she plans to do. They can all get what they want. Billie just needs to bring Emily to her after the assassination.

Despite learning to enjoy Emily's company and the life the Tower brought, Billie went through with it.

That day. Corvo came back early. It didn't stop them though. It was going to happened. Billie stood with the three in the gazebo, watching the waterlock. Emily was the first to point out the approaching whalers.

When they appeared, Corvo was quick to draw his sword. Billie simply stood in front of Jess and Emily, it wasn't time to drop the facade. Corvo was a force to be reckoned with, he didn't need Billie's help regardless.

When Daud showed up though. It was over. Time to drop the act. Thomas held Corvo in the air. Daud came face to face with her, the Empress behind her and Emily hugging her legs.

She stepped aside, taking Emily with her. As Daud took Jess by her neck, Billie was just barely quick enough to cover Emily's eyes, she being frozen in a state of fear and shock. As Jessamine's body fell to the floor, Billie's hand slipped off Emily's face. Emily stared up at her, emotionless and barely just choked out "You lied." Emily was spared the sight, but she wasn't oblivious to the sounds to put together what conspired.

Billie barely just managed to transverse in time with Thomas and Daud as Emily said those words.

Billie was still in charge of Emily after she and the whalers returned to HQ. Emily fought Billie, and had punch hard enough to leave bruises, before breaking down and screaming and crying and pleading for answers on Billie's betrayal. And then she fell asleep, exhausted. Billie had a choice. She could hand over Emily to the Pendletons, and follow Burrows plan. Or hand her over to Delilah, who powers Billie been borrowing over the last few months.

In the dead of the night. Billie left with Emily for the Brigmore Manor.

Long story short Delilah was insane, and Billie had to get Emily out. She regretted choosing Delilah, not that the Pendletons was a much better choice. She was stuck in between a rock and a hard place.

So there was Billie Lurk alone with Emily. Ally to no one. Burned every bridge she had. The whalers. The coven. The royal family.

Emily had no choice but to go wherever Billie took her, up against the whole entire city of dunwal.

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

@minimetalxena RUDE. ahhhh fuck ummmmm...

Reblog and put in the tags your top five favourite fictional characters from all fandoms

[tuubacabra]

I’m replaying dishonored and honestly? You expect me to believe Emily “stubborn ass” Kaldwin would NOT have her bed right next to Corvos in the hound pits??? Excuse me???

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hey, Astra! Congratulations~!! ;D Can I have a Soulmate Au with our dear Ace and fem!reader with Z-zzz soulmates first meet each other and share memories in their dreams before meeting each other in person (dreams can be hard to remember) (I copy-pasted it from your soulmate prompts btw) and fluff #3? Please and thank you~

Warnings: fluff!

Word Count: 1440

Groaning, Ace opened his eyes, glaring at the light that streamed in through the window. He didn’t want to wake up, he was having an amazing dream. Grumbling, Ace snuggled his head into the pillow, he wanted to go back to his dream, it had been about… about… the boy sighed, this always happened when he had a nice dream. He’d wake up and forget damn near everything. All he could remember this time was a laugh, melodic and beautiful. Sighing, he slowly pushed himself out of bed, why did he have to only ever remember small bits and pieces. This time it was a laugh, last time it was a smile, the time before that it was a… what was it? Ace’s eyes widened as he thought back to the previous dreams. He always remembered something, some small detail, one that would plague his thoughts for days, why couldn’t he remember them anymore? Rushing to get dressed, Ace was out the door in record time, sprinting down the halls towards Marco’s office. He talked to Marco and Thatch all the time about his dreams, they’d remember something, right?

“Marco!” Ace shouted, slamming the door open, half startling the bird zoan.

“Ace? You’re up… early.” Marco said, looking over at the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, nevermind that! I need your help!” he said frantically, the older man’s eyes growing serious.

“What’s wrong?” Marco asked, standing up, expecting marines, someone to be hurt, maybe something was wrong with Pops.

“I can’t remember my past dreams anymore.” Ace blurted out, Marco’s brain stopping for a moment. The big problem Ace was having was about his dreams? The blond was silent for a moment before finally taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“This is about your dreams?” Marco asked irritably, looking back up at the boy.

“I know, I know, but this is… I don’t know, it feels important, like… like forgetting who Luffy is!” Ace said, Marco rolling his eyes. If only Ace would forget who Luffy was sometimes, most of the crew tuned it out these days, but the young man was always going on about the boy. 

“Ace, they’re dreams. Come to me when you’re having a real emergency.” Marco said with a sigh before shooing the boy out of his office. Ace grumbled as he walked away, heading for the kitchen, maybe Thatch would understand. Not that the man did, having much the same reaction as Marco to Ace’s dilemma, only making the second division commander more irritable. Leaning against the railing, Ace looked out at the sparkling waters. What was it that he was forgetting? It was important, he knew it was. 

Entering his room, Ace pulled out a sheet of paper, writing down the two things he remembered so far. If he couldn’t remember anything, he’d write it down so he wouldn’t forget again. With that, Ace laid down on his bed, for once he was going to bed early, hoping that he’d have another wonderful dream.

A smiling face greeted him, standing on a cliff facing the water. He recognized this place, it was Mt. Corvo.

“Ace! Right on time… I think.” you said, hurrying over to him and wrapping your arms around him. Memories began to flood back, Ace’s smile widening.

“Hey babe. Glad I didn’t keep you waiting.” Ace said, nuzzling the top of your head, making you giggle.

“You never do. So, tell me where we are this time. We said we’d share our life stories and this clearly isn’t one of mine.” you said, gesturing to the forest.

“It’s Mt. Corvo, where I grew up, technically we’ve been here before, just not this particular location.” Ace explained, beginning to tell you about some of his past. You loved hearing his stories about his brothers and his life after he met Luffy, he was always so happy and excited about telling you, parts of the memories playing out in the dreams. Granted, the earlier memories were… difficult for the both of you, Ace having to revisit old traumas and you having to see your soulmate experiencing such hatred, but part of you was still somewhat happy to know his past, know what he’d gone through. You’d comforted him for days after he’d shared that, neither of you spending your dreams talking about memories, instead simply holding each other.

“Y/n…” Ace said, looking up at the sky thoughtfully.

“What’s up?” you asked, tilting your head, Ace rarely looked this serious, usually preferring to laugh or make you laugh.

“How much of your dreams do you remember when you wake up?” he asked, looking back at you.

“After I’m truly awake? Not a lot. But I’ve been keeping a dream journal for months. I’ve even managed to teach myself how to write while half asleep so I can remember as much as possible. It’s hard to understand so I usually rewrite it so it’s legible, but it’s written down and that’s what matters.” you said, a journal appearing in your hands. You opened it, flipping through some of the pages.

“I dreamed about him again. I can’t remember his name, but he’s cute.” Ace blushed as he flipped a page, “he has black hair and a smile like the sun… He’s a pirate and people hate him for some reason but I can’t remember why. I have a gut feeling it isn’t his fault though.” Ace couldn’t help but smile, even as your dreams faded away, you knew that their hatred was unjustified, “he’s pretty tall. Not as tall as people like the Yonkos or anything, but tall for a normal guy… I should look through wanted posters, he’s well known… another dream, but all I can remember is his eyes.” Ace smiled as he continued reading the short notes, finally closing the journal.

“You’re right, your half asleep handwriting is terrible.” Ace joked, smiling at you. You only laughed, gently pushing him.

“Yeah, well at least I’ve got it written down! I’ve even got who you are narrowed down. I’ve been going through wanted posters of black-haired, well known pirates in the New World, I’ve got it down to about 20 people. I figure, just one or two more things and I’ll figure out who you are, then I’ll leave my island and go looking for you.” you said with a huff.

“Not if I start looking for you first.” Ace said with a grin.

“Not happening. I love you and I’m going to find you first so you know exactly how much I love you.” you stated, Ace freezing in place. You’d never told him you loved him. You were soulmates, you were real people, he knew that, but you’d never actually said it.

“Y-you love me?” Ace asked quietly. You paused for a moment, cheeks flushing as you nodded.

“More than anything, Ace. It’s why I’m looking so hard for you. You’ve told me that you remember different things when you actually wake up, but I’ve only ever remembered one thing and that’s just how much I love you.” you confessed, caressing his cheek. Ace was quiet for a moment, staring into your eyes.

“I never dared to even dream about you feeling the same.” Ace breathed, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

“Even during these dreams? As you told me everything about you?” you asked, the boy looking away shyly and nodding.

“I’m the son of Roger, people hate me.” Ace said with a shrug, a sad look on his face.

“Something that I don’t share with other people. You’re an amazing person, who your father is doesn’t matter. Who you are does. I love you, I’ve loved you for a while, I will always love you. You’re my soulmate.” you stated, making him face you once more before pressing your lips against his.

Ace sighed, his eyes opening and glaring at the morning sun once more. The world couldn’t let him dream for just a little longer? You’d told him you loved him, you’d kissed him. You… you… were Y/n and you were looking for him. Ace bolted into a sitting position. You were Y/n, you lived on an island near the beginning of the Grand Line, you were beautiful, and you were going to find him! Ace grinned, flopping back down on his bed for a moment before scrambling up and hurrying over to his desk. He couldn’t risk forgetting this so he’d write everything down, just in case. He’d never forget anything about you ever again! He’d write everything about you down so he’d always remember every little detail about you.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

kill them with kindness; dishonored;

title: Kill them with kindness fandom: dishonored description: gen; m rated; high chaos week submission, featuring High Chaos Corvo and a twisted take on his actions in the first game~ also on ao3 aha! almost forgot to post this lol. hope you enjoy! please mind the content!

The Outsider watches his brand new subject through the thin veneer of the Void. His black eyes curiously follow, his ever reaching presence listens. 

He hears them call Corvo Attano the kindest killer you'll ever meet. 

It comes through in subtle motions. The delicate hand that covers a victim's mouth, soothing whispers of embracing the Void before that elaborate blade drinks blood. He weeps for those he has slain, he says they are meant to die, and he spares them the waiting for the butcher's block at the inevitable trial. 

He kills quietly. 

A slip of poison in an inconspicuous glass of wine. A well placed dart, silencing any words that could come out of that bleeding throat. A tightly closed door and the scurrying of rat swarms, leaving nothing but crumbles of bones behind. 

He never kills the innocent. 

But what is innocence and who weighs it on a balancing scale of justice? 

Corvo takes it upon himself to be the bearer of a judgement. For who else could do it as efficiently, when the whole system has rotted, corrupted itself and threw itself into the roaring sea of blood, right after the Empress' corpse. 

Her voice is an accompaniment to all his deeds. Corvo does it for her, of course. She is his gentle companion, a guiding hand of vengeance. How else could he treat his victims after hearing his beloved’s voice, hung up in the Void for eternity. Jessamine has always been a fair ruler, and he would follow her footsteps meticulously. May her resolve be his now.

Another voice whispers to him now, too. Softer, stranger, colder. Enticing his ear and his heart with vague promises, sinful thoughts. To have them, the Abbey of the Everyman must die. Such luck that Corvo has never been a devout man.

He gives them the kindness of exaltation. A brand upon each of those faces, irredeemable. After all, it must be the greatest honour to follow their code to the tee. Restrict the lying tongue.

Without a sound the city of Dunwall cleanses. No cries, no begging, no screaming. Mercy is of a benevolent kind, and it comes in silence. Corvo doesn’t request politeness and doesn't expect their gratitude for the merciful killing. But their faces, splattered with blood, comfort him. In their final moments, they did not have to humiliate themselves on their knees, muttering that they did no harm, that they meant no pain.

That they are very sorry.

Those words he hears only once, from the friends turned foe. Those who stepped on his spine like a carrying bridge to the throne. With a hand so assured Corvo strangles the last of apologies, turning them to whispers, turning them to silence. Their remains he feeds in goodness to the ravenous hagfish in the clashing waves of the sea.

And what of Emily, the daughter, the child, the Empress?

Oh, what a marvellous role model he makes for her. Like father, like daughter, learning her lesson well of killing with kindness. Is it not what they often advise?