#theoutsiderkin

[fictionkinfessions]

My water bottle now says "The Outsider Walks Among Us" and it makes me ridiculously happy. I just wish I had my dear Corvo around to show it to and exchange knowing glances with. After I was freed from the Void, he and I would laugh together when we found those bits of graffiti because yes, yes I did. And I do again. It was so good to hear him laugh.

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[fictionkinfessions]

Canon thanks... I don't know if she'd even remember. She's not canon. I don't know if she'd piece it together if she ended up here. But I should have thanked my first and only champion. I gave her that title for a reason. She hunted down those who abused me and took my revenge for me, with the sole exception of the man who sired me, who drank himself to death before I found her. A pity, I would have liked to see how he liked being stabbed in the back. Then again, witnessing his slow decline was its own form of satisfaction. Ah, but this is about my champion.

I can't remember your name or your face, but I remember you. I remember what you did for me. I know I gave you my mark and ensured you and all your descendants would be spared the pain of the Void, but I never outright said thank you. So I will say it now. Thank you. I was a terrified boy who'd been murdered, had my soul bound to a horrifying eldritch entity/cosmic parasite, and been made into a god. I had no idea what I was doing. And you made me feel safe. I remember when you hugged me. It felt maternal. I'd never felt maternal love before. I wanted to cry, but the Void never let me. Words will never be enough. I hope the peace I gave you was.

-The Outsider (Dishonored)

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[fictionkinfessions]

:( The books :( I have one (The Corroded Man) now but the others are either expensive or difficult to obtain. I need them in paperback. I don't want the ebook versions. I want to hold and smell and cuddle the books about my dear Corvo. And I don't like reading comics in ebook format at all. It's so unfair, I am the Outsider! I should be able to indulge in my Corvo's stories. All of them. I suppose I'll just have to search bookstores and hope... (oh, and I realized I got my numbers mixed up last time I sent something here, but to be fair, those 4,000 years aren't easy to remember, it's all jumbled up and I have other fictotypes with other important numbers and it's just a mess)

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[fictionkinfessions]

You know, it kind of sucks how much of the fandom for my source is invested in making my beloved the submissive partner in any relationship. Yes, he loved an empress... Who wanted the weight of an empire off her shoulders in the privacy of their bedroom. Yes, I was a "god" (debatable but the Void is not... Understood by others the way I knew it, I remember it such that "eldritch horror" is an understatement but I don't think I can explain in detail what it did to me without getting too graphic for this blog and that might give you an idea of what it was like), and I was sick of sycophants prostrating themselves before me. You would be shocked by how many of them wanted to be in compromising positions with me (under me, usually, always submissive to me), and only my Corvo was bold enough to imagine he could take charge. In over 2,000 years, no one else dared to try. Can you imagine how sick of it I was? How utterly done with the monotony of it I was? I was delighted with his unique boldness. He did not bow to me, and I adored it. I just wish they could see what I saw in him.

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[fictionkinfessions]

my legs HURT for NO FUCKING REASON GOD SAVE ME

top ten worst ways to accidentally affirm your kin lets go!!!/cj

- johnny cade | #🌐🧩

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[fictionkinfessions]

Sort of fits with canon games, I remember when I was the Outsider, kids would play a game where they would make fake bone-charms, usually out of wood or by finding stones that looked right, and use dice to assign them powers (basically, the higher the roll, the more "impressive" the power was allowed to be, so a lower roll might be something like "hounds can't smell you" or "you can jump just a little higher", whereas higher rolls could get very odd with things like being able to turn into a rat, though some were deemed too impressive and were either outright banned or requiring some drawback). Then they'd try to prove why theirs was the best (so a low roll wasn't always a loss if a kid was especially creative), usually to a designated judge or set of judges who decided a winner, though some groups would debate among themselves and choose a winner that way rather than having judges. I never participated, for obvious reasons, but it was oddly endearing and I enjoyed watching (one may or may not have given me inspiration for one of the more unusual ones seen in the Dishonored games, she rolled the lowest possible number, I think it was 2 (different groups used different numbers of dice), so hers had to have some drawback and for some reason, she decided eating white rats was the drawback, though this was before the Rat Plague so it was less "this might actually be gambling with your life" and more "eww eating rats haha"). Even little Emily played, though I don't recall any of the ones she "made". Maybe someday, I'll get a chance to play in this life even though I am an adult. Perhaps I can pitch the idea to others somehow, someday. With or without admitting that I am relaying a game others came up with in a wholly different world.

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[fictionkinfessions]

I will have a water bottle with a sticker that says "The Outsider walks among us". I am the Outsider. How could I ever have resisted the urge to have such a constant inside joke with myself? I can look at others who read the sticker and laugh to myself because they don't know they're looking at the Outsider himself! They don't know it's more than just a thing from a video game. ~But I dooooo~

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[fictionkinfessions]

Daud, my old friend, I don't recall if I've addressed you properly yet. So here we are. You hated me at the end, but not so much so you wouldn't help Billie free me. Perhaps your spirit saw the truth of the Void after you died and that pushed you to help. I will tell you this, it was not my fault you were dying. You were never a man who shied away from corrupted bone-charms, anything to get a job done, right? Those opened up little cracks inside you, where the Void could seep through. Not the contained, crafted rift of a mark but an uncontrolled little fracture in the world. Even Corvo suffered from his far, far more limited use of them. But in a way, I admired you for your boldness, and I couldn't fault you for blaming me for what you suffered.

After all, I was counting on it. I could see, I could plan around futures I saw laid out before me like threads leading to different tapestries. You did exactly what I needed of you, you enlisted someone who knew firsthand Corvo's kindness, and your caution from the time of the rat-plague and of Delilah's first failure. The time you refused to take any lives. The run-up to the end of the Whalers. Billie would never have done it if not for you.

If I could change one thing, I would have found a way to soothe your pain before the end. Perhaps it is selfish of me to say that I wouldn't have given you a more direct warning about the corrupted bone-charms, or about Jessamine, though if you hadn't done it, others would have, and they may have killed Corvo. So perhaps better you than anyone else. Even if it weighed heavy on your soul.

I am sorry I couldn't have helped you in the Void. There were souls I protected, and part of me felt selfish for wanting to be freed from it because I knew it wouldn't honor that protection after I was gone. But over 4,000 years takes a toll on a man. At some point, one must choose oneself.

I do hope you're taking better care of yourself and avoiding dangerous magical artifacts in this life, old friend. And know that I meant it when I called you that. You were the closest thing to a friend I had before Corvo, and still a friend after he met me.

📦