#jaeger pilots rock

[klayr-de-gall]

Day 12 - Pacific Rim

Modern Rock Stars

---

I always liked that line in the exposition!

You can always join in with all kind of fanwork and fandom! Make sure to use the #AU-August2024 Tag, so I can find you!

As always, all entries for this week (Day 12 till Day 18) can be found on my Patreon already!

[My Social Media and Patreon]

Masterpost

[k-scinerd]

T- Minus 0 days until the end of the Kaiju War

STOP THE CLOCK!

Unfortunately, Chuck Hansen and Marshal Stacker Pentecost, as well as the Jaeger Striker Eureka, were all lost while closing the breach

Gipsy Danger was also destroyed, but her pilots, Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket, were retrieved safely.

[hamsterclaw]

Fic Library: Jungkook (Part 1)

I realised whilst compiling this library just how many Jungkook stories I've read and recced. It's probably because Jungkook stories are far and away the most prolific on my feed and also probably because the maknae looks and acts like he does. I hope you enjoy these, don't forget to show these writers some love.

Rattled JJK x reader, single dad JK by @gukslut. The Jungkook in this story breaks my heart with his grit and humanity, and the MC is so relatable it hurts. If you haven't read this, do yourself a favour and be prepared to have your world rocked. Probably my favourite fanfic of all time.

The Cul-de-Sac Cons JJK x reader, JHS x reader, con artist AU by @bonvoyagenoona. I've read and re-read this a lot, the love story between JK and reader is fraught with intrigue and danger, and all the side characters - cuckolded husband Hoseok, Yoongi, Namjoon, are fleshed out perfectly as well.

Lonely Hearts Club JJK x OC, dystopian sci-fi tattoo artist AU by @joonbird. A story that made me think about fanfic in a completely different light, angsty and terribly sad.

Ego JJK x reader, fuckboi college AU by @suga-kookiemonster. A series that had me hooked from the first chapter, a rolling romp, with the perfect ending. Adore.

Feels like summer by @badbhye is a sweet, funny, coming of age story featuring reader and an grown-up, glowed-up next-door-neighbour Jungkook. Also features the immortal line 'Fucking Aquarius bastard' which makes me laugh every time I think of it.

Blink and you'll miss it by @satnin-darling is a fun, fast-paced story with great scene-setting featuring a street-racer reader and rookie lawyer JK.

Spin Cycle by @miscelunaaa is a slow burn series where reader meets Jungkook in a laundromat and their relationship develops over a collection of fun-size drabbles.

Damsel in shining armor by @jimilter is a follow up to the equally great Knight in distress and features chaotic chaebol JK and a competent, take no prisoners reader. A fast-paced, hilarious caper involving reader trying to do damage control as JK wreaks havoc.

Burning bright by @snackhobi is a Pacific Rim AU featuring Jaeger pilots Jungkook and reader, and an unforgettable classic in my book. I love this, and it always reminds me how damn talented fanfiction writers are.

Ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg is about a Jungkook who has the ability to see ghosts set in a med school AU and features Yoongi and Taehyung as cockblocking spirits. Sweet and so, so funny.

Blackout by @bonvoyagenoona is set during one night when the entire neighbourhood loses power and Jungkook and reader navigate the neighbourhood block party. It's the perfect romantic almost first date.

Under the stars by @madbutgloriouspond is a sweet, cute, fluffy, real story about Jungkook and reader in a college AU that I love, love, love.

THAT nose riding drabble by @here2bbtstrash honestly doesn't even need a title. JK is sweet, clueless but willing, and Yoongi? He's the voyeur of my dreams.

Disaster management by @jimilter is gold. Unruly chaotic chaebol CEO Jeon Jungkook is back, and company President reader is right by his side as they try to avert disaster.

Leave the door open by @here4kpopfics is a strangers to lovers neighbours AU story that makes me think about how annoying and irresistible Jeon Jungkook would be if he lived next door.

Car sex by @musicloverxoxo7 features co-workers Jungkook x reader who flirt their way to a smutty, sexy encounter.

Euphoria by @btssavedmylifeblr is a beautiful study of life, love and mortality that is one of the best stories I've read. Unforgettable.

Part 2

[midnight-scrivener]

Okay. oKAY. I'm not done thinking about alternate sequel villain arcs for Newt actually, hang on lemme pitch something.

(this can't turn into another fic I write too slowly for that)

We still open following Hermann first. We get the sense that Newt has left the PPDC over methodological conflicts.

We learn what those are when he shows up, having undergone sort of a Hannibal Chau-esque transformation. He's more confident now. More self-assured. Less desperate to be believed. He greets Hermann like an old friend, leaving him confused as to the years of radio silence. He seems like an elevated version of his old self. He's not dismissive of Hermann's work, he's actually very interested. But something about the interest feels wrong to Hermann. Calculated. He wants to believe he has his old friend and rival back, but there's something weird at the back of his mind.

We learn that Newt has made his money developing drugs using Kaiju genetics, wonder pills, healing miracles. He's the man who cured cancer, or some other, equally profound contribution to medical science. He's a celebrity, A Rock Star. He's living his dream. He has a mysterious wife named Alice.

We learn about all of this through the lens of Hermann's perception, and it's bittersweet. Newt has everything he ever wanted. He just had to leave his drift partner behind to get it.

Newt's work has basically netted him a blank check from most of the world to do Whatever He Wants. That's why he's at the PPDC. With the rise of rogue J-Tech in the years since the war, the PPDC is scrambling to keep the peace in a way they were never designed to. And they're feeling the strain.

Enter Newt. He wants to give back to the people who helped him save the world. He wants to offer his resources to make PPDC Pilots a cut above the rest.

(there's another villain here, in this hypothetical. Maybe instead of drones, a de-centralized J-Tech network who got their start using stolen Jaeger wreckage, and is now trying to spread J tech as far and fast as possible.)

The PPDC jumps at the chance and for a while, all is well. It's almost like old times. He ropes Hermann into his own personal curiosities about the nature of the breach. They start researching together, and it feels Normal.

Except for moments when we see Newt lose some of that confidence, moments where he starts to tell Hermann something, and never follows through. Moments where his eyes cry for help.

Then the audience learns about Newt, and what he's really doing with that blank check.

Alice is of course still the old brain, still his conduit to the Precursors. He's still dependent on his connection with them. But instead of just dominating him and strangling his mind, they've coerced him by preying on the worst parts of him, the parts that are most like them. His vanity, his callousness, his longing for control of his own narrative. His need to be the best, smartest, most-noticed person in the room at any time.

We see that he's been experimenting on the PPDC Pilots without their knowledge, so that he can alter himself. Make himself Better Suited To What's Coming.

(we see more of the Anteverse as well as Newt communicates with it, see that the Precursors are preparing for a second coming, and Newt will be their ambassador. We also see the aesthetics of the Anteverse reflected in the decor of Newt's home and lab. It's all a little organic. A little meaty, underneath the expected clutter)

Because what he's doing with that blank check is not the PPDC work. It's cloning. The original Kaiju were genetic anomalies, stitched together remnants of a conquered species. Newt's Kaiju are remnants of those remnants.

It's not the drones that start turning against the PPDC. it's their own pilots. Mutating and vulnerable to the new whispers in their heads, they start taking the PPDC apart from the inside. Jaegers start moving in new, horrifying ways, ways that now feel more natural to the people inside them.

Newt's curiosity about the breach was because the Precursors want to open another one. The Kaiju that he was growing in secret, justifying to himself that they'd be humanity's guard dogs, instead are intended to ravage it.

Hermann finds out. He pleads with Newt to stop, to wake up, to free himself. For a moment it nearly works. And then the Precursors overwhelm him. Newt stats mutating. He wakes up his Kaiju clones, and they start to lay humanity to waste.

The de-centralized J-Tech network ends up being a last minute hero, as their pilots aren't compromised. They and the few remaining PPDC Pilots who haven't lost their minds yet put down the Kaiju clones and stop the newly opened breach. Newt is taken into custody. The last shot of the film is the same, the Precursors promising with Newt's mouth that they're coming back to end the world.

(in this movie Mako would be our main eyes and ears into the Jaeger program. The A-plot would still follow the pilots, but it would be less about the School aspect, and more about the conflict inherent in turning weapons designed to protect humanity against it instead. Pilots aren't heroes anymore, they're just cops. But J-Tech can't be un-invented, and it's too dangerous not to be regulated. That's taking its toll on people who ultimately just joined up to help. Newt's medicine would seem too good to be true, but pilots are dying and they need every edge they can get. When the first team of PPDC Pilots turns, no one is sure why, and the Jaeger is too destroyed to retrieve their bodies. The reveal and the Kaiju return happen a little earlier in the runtime, and the movie is a little longer. There are fewer Kaiju, and we get to know them through Newt's eyes so by the time they're awake they feel like real characters. The hero pilots of the PPDC are both people who didn't take the drugs, and also people who did, but are managing not to succumb to the mental domination of the Precursors.)

(also Mako SURVIVES HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD)

(also also since this would never exist this I am declaring this a perfect world where they manage to get Charlie Hunnam on board so Raleigh is back and he and Mako drift together still)

(also also also as Charlie Day himself declared, Newt and Hermann absolutely have sex)

Anyway maniac Hannibal Chauified mad scientist Evil Newt is going to rot my brain forever now thanks so much for coming on this journey with me

[askanaroace]

The Locked Tomb: Gideon and Harrow - Aro Perspective

Any Locked Tomb fans here?

Just wanted to chat about Griddlehark. It's kind of amazing to be in a fandom where the same ship is end game for like 100% of the community, myself included.

But - and maybe this is just perspective bias - that ship has never been romantic to me. I've never really read anything romantic into Harrow and Gideon's relationship. To me, it's a very strong non-romantic bond that we, in this non-TLT universe, have no appropriate word for. Absolutely a Jaeger pilot (Pacific Rim) sort of bond. The new sff bond: cavalier and necromancer; sword and adept.

(I could go either way on it being sexual or not.)

"You are my only friend. I am undone without you."

--Harrow to Gideon, pg 356 GtN

"[...] the entire point of me is you. You get that, right? That's what cavaliers sign up for. There is no me without you. One flesh, one end."

--Gideon to Harrow, pg 432 GtN

"You think anything I did has been to make her love me? [...]" "Like I said before. She's just not into you. She's into bones. She gave her heart to a corpse when she was ten years old," I said. "She's in love with the refrigerated museum piece in the Locked Tomb. You should've seen the look she had on when she told me about this ice-lolly bimbo. I knew the moment I saw it. I never made her look like that... She can't love me, even if I'd wanted her to. She can't love you. She can't even try." [...] "If you think anything I did, I did to make her love me, then you don't know anything about her and me. I'm her cavalier, dipshit! I'd kill for her! I'd die for her. I did die for her. I'd do anything she needed, anything at all, before she even knew she needed it. I'm her sword, you pasty-faced Coronabeth-looking knock-off." Always your sword, my umbral sovereign; in life, in death, in anything beyond life or death that they want to throw at thee and me. I died knowing you'd hate me for dying; but Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention.

--Gideon to Ianthe, pgs. 435-436 HtN

So Alecto, wearied of talking, kneeled up on the rock and offered up the sword to [Harrow], and placed the child's hand upon the blade, so that it received also the red blood of the child. This made the child exceedingly faint, but it did not swoon of weariness. Which strength pleased Alecto, who said: Notwithstanding, I offer you my service. To which a voice on the opposite side of the shore was raised, exceeding wroth, and Alecto heard it shout in a very great shout: Get in line, thou big slut.

--Alecto's perspective, pg 477 NtN

Like Gideon knows very clearly that Harrow does not romantically love her. But they are the only two children of the Ninth left. They are committed to each other in "one flesh, one end" by now. They are meaningful to each other, and that is enough.

I don't know. I'm just having a lot of feelings about it.

[jamiesfootball]

@sighonaraa you opened the door on this so here we go:

PACIFIC RIM AU

Ted and Beard? Hella drift compatible. Shouldn't even need to be said. Since becoming a dad, Ted has struggled to justify his job as a trainer for the Pan Pacific Defense Corp, but damnit someone has to care about these pilots. Someone's gotta train them to make it out alive. So many of them die young.

He wonders sometimes if its selfish of him that he's not a pilot himself, but there's no hiding that sort of thinking in the drift. The Beard he knows in the drift is the gentlest man in the world, and he always, always, talks Ted down from doing anything stupid.

Rebecca is what happens when the drift goes sour. Rupert used what he learned to dig his claws in further. Rebecca was never a pilot, but Rupert's money helped built all of this. Even though she left him, even though he's halfway across the Pacific and she's the one left running everything, his voice remains in her head like a ghost. It's only by having people like Keeley and Ted at her side that she's begun to think 'maybe I'll try again some day. maybe.'

The tragedy of Roy Kent is that he didn't die young. Recruits have been calling him an old man since he turned thirty. He's almost forty. He's outlived all the recruits who first called him old. At this point he's become so overbearing, so controlling in a drift, that he's almost impossible to find a partner for.

Everyone is bewildered when one of the new recruits, some hot-headed mollusk they pried out of Manchester of all places, takes the general compatibility test and his scores come back. They check and they check again, and then they reluctantly call in Roy Kent.

Roy dislikes him instantly. He's too cocky and he doesn't take the risks seriously. They have one sparring session. Roy curses the sixth sense years of piloting have given him. They're drift compatible. Offensively so. Why won't the world give him a break?

Their first and only test drift is an unmitigated disaster. They nearly destroy one of the last functioning Jaegers; repairs will take months. Both of them walk away from the experience scraped raw and haunted by the knowledge they'll have to carry about each other for the rest of their lives.

Meanwhile Colin and Isaac are two guys from different departments who happened to meet in the lift one day. They ended up at the cafeteria talking for hours about everything and nothing, and the next day they got tested on a lark, even though neither was in the training program. Scores came back off the chart, they are now in the training program. It's terrifying. They wouldn't trade it for the world.

Richard and Jan Maas are barely drift compatible and shouldn't be let anywhere near a giant robot but somehow they keep winning so-

Keeley is the cutie on the bridge who gets to wear the bright colorful suspenders and run the clock.

Moe is one of those crazy scientists, but I couldn't decide which one so he might be both idk

Actually I've decided that Trent Crimm is Newton. He's not a scientist per se but he is a researcher and has fantastic style and rock t-shirts.

Oh and there's a sweet moment in here where Dani offers to drift with Jamie even though they basically just met and it is beautiful and healing. Dani is one of the most all-around drift compatible people around, but he really loves his amigo Jamie.

Sam is also a pilot in training and everyone in the world is like 'please no don't let the kaiju kill him or truly there is there no god in this world'

[localcryptic]

now. your tags are very interesting to me so i have to ask. do the puppets kissing KNOW its the other sidestep, or do they not know. is it a "we're compatible but only act on it when we don't know it's us" or is it a "we know its us but we only know how to perform tenderness in bodies that aren't our own". either way is pathological but in opposite directions

OKAY SO hfjfb this is about my sidestep Tal (they/them) and their puppet, Eden (he/him) as well as @b33tlejules sidestep Rhan (they/them) and Rhan's puppet..... who is also Eden (she/her)... i'll call them t!eden and r!eden for the sake of this post (and jules feel free to weigh in if you wanna)

now. the short answer is:

it'd be funny. both the edens are catty bitches and they'd make out for fun and never mention it again. pretend it didn't happen. r!eden is a lesbian and t!eden is a queer man and they wouldn't be attracted to each other but they Would make out because why not.

the much longer answer is: both tal and rhan take on a very different persona as their puppets. tal very much sees t!eden as his own separate person that just. also happens to be them. the edens each have more confidence than the telepaths that jaeger-pilot them do, and they each like to play the Character of Eden. being eden provides a sense of escapism, and they get very into the roleplaying aspect of it.

so it's closer to "we only know how to perform tenderness in bodies that aren't our own" but less in a "we actually would like each other but can only recognize it through being someone else" way and more in a "i'm bored and i don't want to be myself for a while, wanna pretend we're different people and see what happens?" way.

the characters they each play when they occupy their puppets would get along in ways tal and rhan Can't: the Edens can meet up for coffee and gossip, dress for attention, have no fear of being seen. they can actually unwind because their own physical appearance is no longer a danger in itself that they're trying to hide from, and i think that lack of constant anxiety would cause them to actually appreciate the things they have in common. As opposed to thinking "this guy has every trait i hate about myself. i need to beat them to death with a rock"

TLDR: at least 70% of rhan and tal's problems would be solved if they just tried LARPing.

[jedi-kat-18]

may i request a headcanon for an oc from c&s? I know you have some jaeger pilots, right? OwO/📁

Well, Maya and Lucio are gonna be introduced in the next chapter, so I'll tell you something about them. They're in a band! It's pretty small, just them and Dae-Jung, the younger Korean pilot. Maya does the vocals, Dae-Jung plays the drums, and Lucio does the electric guitar or synthesizer. They only got started 1 to 2 years ago when the 3 of them were stationed at the L.A. Shatterdome, so they've just released like, 1 or 2 albums so far. Their style is this kinda punk-rock-techno thing that's gotten really popular since the Kaiju War, and Newt's actually a pretty big fan of their work.

[themasksephinywears]

Isabella “Izzy” Diaz

Name: Isabella "Izzy" Diaz Gender/Pronouns: Female; She/Her Age: 40 Birthday: February 5th Nationality: American Birthplace: Miami, Florida Current Residence: Tampa, Florida Occupation: Receptionist at Over the Rainbow Air Tours Height: 5 ft. 6 in. Sexuality: Bisexual Fandom: Triple Frontier FC: Cote de Pablo

Brief Background: Izzy was born ten minutes after her twin brother, Mateo. They are the only children of Hector Caesar Lunez Diaz and Caroline "Carol" Diaz; their father was Mexican, and their mother was American.

She grew up in a very close, tightknit family, which had its advantages and disadvantages. Especially with Mateo. The two were joined at the hips when they were children, but starting their sophomore year in high school, the two developed separate friend groups. It momentarily put a strain on their relationship as Izzy wanted to find her own identity and felt almost suffocated by her family.

After graduating, Isabella had some difficulty finding some direction in her life. She did not know what she wanted out of life, what she wanted to do, only what she did not want to do. For awhile, she worked as a go-go dancer for a couple of clubs in downtown Miami.

When she was twenty-five, her grandmother grew sick, so her parents moved from their home in Miami up to Tampa, with Mateo following after finishing his military contract with the Marines. Tired of dealing with drunks, she moved in with her brother and worked as a receptionist at Uncle Luis’ car maintenance shop.

A month after her thirtieth birthday, Izzy was in a terrible car accident when a driver ran a red light; she nearly lost her life in the accident and had a long recovery, but she got through it. One of Mateo’s military buddies visited and stayed with the twins for a couple of weeks, starting up a new business- helicopter tours. She initially was going to work there for a couple of months while they interviewed other candidates for the office receptionist, but they hit it off really well, and she has been working there ever since.

Personality: Very practical, values usefulness and comfort over glamour, blunt and honest but not cruel, not afraid to speak her mind, very involved with her family but independent.

Likes: Dancing, Rock music, Boxing, Caramel, Singing along with the radio, Spending time with her family- having cookouts or watching sports, Honesty, Strawberries.

Dislikes: Snakes, Alligators, Moonshine, Liars, Baseball, Coconut, High heels, Country music, Pumpkin unless it’s her grandmother’s pumpkin flower soup.

Random Headcanons: - She graduated from high school but never attended college. - Her favorite drink is a tequila sunrise. - She has a fear of snakes and gators. She refuses to visit swamps or wetlands. - Her Uncle Luis taught her how to box. - She is a terrible cook. If it were possible to burn water, she would. - She has a phoenix tattoo on her left hip; she got it after the bad car crash. - She worked as a "go-go" dancer for a bar and at her uncle's mechanic shop before getting her current job. - She is very competitive against her twin; Mateo loves to bring up every time the two argue or are competing against each other. - She prefers being called “Izzy” but never “Bella”. That is a good way to piss her off.

[Other established verses below cut]

PACIFIC RIM VERSE

Izzy is a technician working at the Shatterdome, makes sure the jaegers are in perfect working order. She is a bit protective over the jaegers, feeling it is her craft and does not take kindly when pilots get them damaged. Her twin Mateo works security at the K-Science Lab.

[stopcallingmethesacrificiallamb]

I’m ignoring like, big fics that are well known (I THINK) in the fandom like 91w and, and this your living kiss and stuff like that bc i assume you know them already but also bc i have read way too many aus and don’t want to send a thousand.

Impression by Tiamatv:

When Dean and Castiel were children, they swore that they would both be dragonriders. They’d stand together on the sands for the Impression ceremony. They'd live in adjacent rooms in the Rookery, where all the baby dragons grew up. They’d fly together in the same Wing, taking down the demons that spilled from the Hellgates—the same demons that had killed Dean’s mother. And when Sam got old enough, he’d join them.

Dean believed Castiel when Castiel said he could hear Novak, his mother’s dragon, talking—even though that was impossible. And Castiel didn’t care that Winchester, Dean’s family dragon, had a bad wing.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was their plan. It should have been so simple.

But falling hopelessly in love with his best friend had never been part of Castiel's plan.

Moving Mountains by Tiamatv:

Marshall Robert Singer has one hand resting on his hip, the other gripping the discarded practice pole. Castiel thinks he looks tired. That said, with how the kaiju have been crawling with increasing frequency out of the Breach with every passing week and decimating the cities lining the Pacific, no one can blame the man for that.

Castiel knows there aren't enough Jaegers or Jaeger pilots left to defend the coastline against the monsters—but with his history, he's not getting back into harness. He's never joining his mind with anyone else's. Not again.

“Congratulations. You boys done dancing yet?” Singer demands, thumping the butt of the staff on the ground with blunt, percussive force.

“We got work to do.”

“Work?” Castiel asks, frowning.

“Congratulations?” Dean finishes.

“Well, yeah.” The Marshall of North America's last battle-center looks back and forth between them, clearly questioning their intelligence. His lip curls just slightly under his beard—no doubt at their blank expressions. “You’re obviously Drift-compatible, ya idjits.”

 “What?” 

“What?”

(A Pacific Rim AU)

Happily Alone by violue:

When Dean used to imagine being a rock star, he pictured enjoying it more than this. 

The Leap by FriendofCarlotta:

1961: Sixteen years after the end of World War II, Berlin remains occupied by the Allied Forces — America, Britain, France and the Soviet Union. Castiel Krushnic is a police officer in Soviet-occupied East Berlin. He is also gay, in a city where that’s a dangerous thing to be. One night, he meets Dean Winchester, a mechanic from the American sector. Their mutual attraction is instant, and a convenient hookup quickly turns into a passionate love affair that defies all rules and expectations.

But Cold War Berlin is a troubled place, and as more and more residents flee Soviet-occupied territory for the West, Castiel’s superiors begin to make plans to build a wall. The wall would cut off East Berlin from the rest of the city — and leave Dean and Castiel on opposite sides.

Ergative/Absolutive by glassedplants:

He really shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this about his best friend who literally just broke up with his girlfriend, but he knows he’ll blame it on sleepiness in the morning. He always does. 

A Midsummer Night in Las Vegas by whelvenwings:

Dean is a Prince, and even in the 21st century he’s expected to make a good match (unfortunately for Castiel, marrying your local librarian and best friend apparently doesn’t count). The announcement of Dean’s upcoming arranged marriage to someone he doesn’t even know hits Castiel hard.

But late in the night during his bachelor party in Las Vegas, Dean leans over to Castiel and asks him a question. Castiel knows he should say no. But the next morning, Dean and Castiel wake up with matching rings on their fingers.

With an international incident only one mistake away, Dean and Castiel begin trying to get an annulment in secret - but slowly realise that neither of them wants to spend the rest of their lives apart.

Qualia by imogenbynight:

When Sam & Jess move into a smart home, Dean finds an unlikely match in the AI that keeps it running. 

And because I couldn’t not:

The whole of Not Part of the Plan by Annie D (scaramouche) as a series:

Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations.

Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.

I need fic recs help, throw any aus at me

[squadrah]

what are la squadra wearing for halloween when they're hitting the town?

Thank you for bailing me out, now's my chance to deliver late Halloween fun times! :D I'm actually going to go a number of ways here - I'm going to remind everyone of their costumes as depicted by that one official artist, and then add some of my own ideas!

Okay, so here's the art (had to hunt it down manually and scroll for half an hour but it was totally worth it):

And now I can give some of my own ideas!

Risotto:

Random costume: I feel like he's the perfect candidate for dressing as a Cenobite, since Metallica can help with any of the metal "accessories" like the nails on Pinhead.

Sexy option: I would love for him to dress up as a Pillar Man. Not even one of the few we know, just a generic interpretation of one.

Mundane Halloween option: "Man helping others reach the tall shelves at the supermarket"

Formaggio:

Random costume: I think he should dress up as a leprechaun, go to a party, and gradually shrink as people are getting drunk to mess with them. Bonus if he has a pot of "gold" to lead people to.

Sexy option: I feel like he should do us all a favor and take a crack at Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn.

Mundane Halloween option: "A guy who's dissatisfied with his haircut but cannot bring himself to tell the barber"

Prosciutto:

Random costume: This is too much in the vein of the art above, but I feel like he would make a really good Lestat from Interview With A Vampire; it's just an iconic and elegant look.

Sexy option: I want him to do the world a favor and go as Marilyn Monroe in that one white dress. You know the one.

Mundane Halloween option: "Project manager losing his mind over a tight deadline" / "Old man inspecting construction work"

Pesci:

Random costume: My first thought was that something like Conan the Barbarian would look good on him - just an excuse to really try on a different fur trim and show off his guns.

Sexy option: The random option is already halfway there, but he can't go wrong with a scantily clad wrestling outfit.

Mundane Halloween option: "A guy who had his order mixed up at the fast food place"

Ghiaccio:

Random costume: I envy him because White Album could technically make him an armored costume so he could go as a Pacific Rim Jaeger pilot if he wanted to and that's just magical to me.

Sexy option: Best option is probably dressing as a beach guard because he can flex if there's a pool.

Mundane Halloween option: "Jogger waiting in line at the store to buy mineral water"

Melone:

Random costume: This is such a random thought indeed but what if he went as a member of Daft Punk with a cool custom helmet that could emote for him (powered by Baby Face, perhaps.)

Sexy option: I feel like he deserves a slutty teacher costume and a hand pointer to brandish at people.

Mundane Halloween option: "A guy trying to dye streaks into his own hair at home"

Illuso:

Random costume: For him I would love something iconic like the Goblin King from Labyrinth (his Stand actually reminds me of the armored goblins from the movie.)

Sexy option: He would absolutely rock a Playboy Bunny outfit complete with high heels and his hair down.

Mundane Halloween option: "A guy who can't remember which pocket he put his keys in"

Sorbet and Gelato:

Lumping them together because they would want to match.

Random costume: I will die on this hill - they should go as Morticia and Gomez Addams, respectively, because I think they possess the energy required and it gives them leave to make out in public.

Sexy option: Imagine them dressing up as an extremely hetero couple from a romance novel cover and posing for pictures.

Mundane Halloween option: "Two guys who collided and spilled their drinks on each other"

[captastra]

My Official Masterlist of Writer’s Month 2022! Link to the AO3 series here!

The Outer Worlds

Rules and Roses: Rhea and Felix experience the challenges of life and love in this Tossball AU

Curse of Pragma’s Muse: Felix uncovers a magical mystery involving Rhea and the circus in this Dark Circus AU

Drift to Destiny (crossover w/Pacific Rim): Rhea’s past and Felix’s future are put to the test as they become Jaeger Pilots

The Loud Goodbye: Rhea and Felix’s relationship reaches its breaking point after the events of the game.

Magic in the Desert: Rhea, a witch on the run, hopes to find sanctuary out in the desert, but her past has a way of catching up to her.

Our Day to Day Life: Rhea and Felix, childhood best friends, live together as roommates.

Into the Unknown: Felix decides to throw caution to the wind and follow a Fae into her realm.

Treasure of the Sea: In search of Phineas' niece, Rhea, Felix and Max are captured by the dread Captain Hawthorne.

TOW: Unreliable: A re-telling of The Outer Worlds if Alex Hawthorne had been hired to retrieve Rhea from the Hope.

Secrets in the Darkness: Secrets and ghosts come back to haunt Rhea and her friends as she is faced with shocking news in this gothic au.

Heat of Today: As the heat rises on the Unreliable, Rhea and Felix share a sweet moment together.

Our Whole Lives: Rhea, single mother to Alex, and Felix have a cute first meeting at the park.

A Realization Too Late: Rhea realizes her feelings too late when Felix tells her about his upcoming date with Nell.

Secrets in the Darkness: A Side Story: Felix reflects on the day he was taken in as Rockwell’s long lost son prior to the events in the story.

The Haunting at Hoffman Lodge: Rhea and the gang investigate the haunting at Hoffman Lodge.

The Rhythm of You and Me: Rhea is convinced by Felix to audition as the lead singer for his band.

Could We Ever Be?: Parvati tries to convince Felix to tell Rhea about his true feelings for her.

Never Let Me Go: On the threshold of adulthood, Rhea and Felix say their goodbyes before Rhea is set to leave Felix’s life...forever.

The Roadtrip: Rhea and Felix make the most of an awkward situation while they stay at a motel.

Resident Evil

Hunger in the Mountains: Jill and Carlos are tasked with going undercover for an event being held at the elusive Spenser Mansion in this canon-divergence story.

A Sweet Treat: After a long day’s work, Carlos treats Jill to his favorite comfort food.

Z Nation

Around the Campfire: Annie, 10k, and others share a quiet moment around the campfire remembering days at the beach.

Overwatch

You Can’t Always Be There: Angela rushes back to Overwatch HQ’s when she learns about Cassidy’s injury.

Elden Ring

A Blossoming Start: Aisling gets a first meeting with Miquella’s sister, Malenia, when she drops him off late at the animal shelter.

Taglist: @ghosttownwhispers​ @olliesaurus-rex​ @confidentandgood​

Some commissioned art under the cut for my @writersmonth stories I wrote this month <3

Annie by @zevrn​, western au Rhea by @alexandbear​, western au Rhea and Felix by @mostwantedpotato404​, cute/roommate Rhea and Felix by @fluffnflightillustrations​, ghost hunters Rhea and Felix by @awhellstothejoe​, and gothic au Rhea and Felix and rock band au Rhea by @bloodmaledikt

[appleteeth]

Our Flag Means Death x Pacific Rim

This idea come fully formed this morning and I had to write it all down.

Note: If you want to run with it and make it a fic/art/whatever please do because I doubt I will write it unless I can think of a good story beyond blending the two worlds.

Basic Plot:

During the height of the Jaeger programme, a rich benefactor called Stede Bonnet builds his own Jaeger called the Revenge and want to pilot it himself. Unfortunately, he’s not found anyone who is Drift-compatible amongst his crew. (He originally thought his wife would join him, but he knew deep down it wouldn’t work even if she wanted to).

He gets injured in a kaiju attack and finds himself taken care of by Edward Teach, one of the greatest Jaeger pilots in the programme's history.

Edward asks Stede to try Drifting together and they work incredibly well, coming up with a plan to save a city under attack within a day of knowing one-another. They begin to pilot the Revenge together, whilst Izzy is furious they can Drift so easily. He hates Stede with a passion and tries to sabotage their every mission.

Edward is desperately trying not to give away that he likes Stede while Stede feels really strongly about Edward but he doesn’t really know that what he is feeling is love.

During a bad training session, they both end up chasing the RABIT and delving into their worst fears. Edward remembers how he killed his dad after years of domestic and child abuse. Stede remembers how he was bullied and how his dad hated him.

Together they fight kaijus and work through their problems and make out.

Main Characters:

Stede Bonnet: Rich benefactor stuck in an arranged marriage who wants to be a Jaeger pilot more than anything. Commissions his own Jaeger and runs away to the LA Shatterdome to start his career.

Edward Teach: The best Jaeger pilot in the entire programme, having had 12 kills with multiple co-pilots. Edward is currently piloting with Izzy Hands on the Jaeger called Blackbeard but they are not compatible (Edward is just good at blending in and adapting to his partners). Edward is bored with the rock star lifestyle and would love to give it all up, but Jaeger pilots pretty much don’t get to retire, only die in battle.

Izzy Hands: Current co-pilot with Edward on Blackbeard but brings out the worst in Edward. (When Edward and Izzy Drift together they become ruthless and less concerned about civilian casualties/collateral damage.) Wants to be immortalised amongst the greatest pilots but can only achieve that with Edward, and so he is dismayed when Edward finds the perfect co-pilot in Stede Bonnet of all people.

Stede’s crew:

Oluwade: LOCCENT Mission Control Technician. Voice of reason and brilliant leader.

Jim: They first work as a mechanic for the Revenge, keeping their head down until they are discovered and become Assault Specialist. They worked with their family in the Lima shatterdome until their family was killed by a kaiju attack (Jim knows they were put in the line of attack by a corrupt politician and seeks revenge).

Olu and Jim are Drift Compatible but haven’t been given the chance to test (yet).

Lucius: Journalist following Stede’s story. Stede acts like he’s his personal biographer, which Lucius goes along with so long as his expenses keep getting paid.

Black Pete: J-Tech Engineer. Claims he worked on Blackbeard, but nobody believes him.

Lucius and Black Pete get together and have the suspicion they might be Drift Compatible but they are in no way interested in piloting a Jaeger.

Frenchie: Neural Bridge Operator. Scams other Jaeger crews for laughs.

Wee John: Weapons Specialist. Has a crush on Frenchie but hasn’t acted on it yet.

Roach: J-Tech Engineer and team cook.

Swede: J-Tech Engineer and general disaster.

Buttons: Battle Programmer. Claims he can talk to the kaiju but nobody wants to take him up on proving it.

Other notable characters:

Mary Bonnet: Finds herself alone after Stede runs away to become a Jaeger pilot. Uses her wealth to help people on the Pacific coastlines and raise awareness of the corrupt Anti-Kaiju Wall programme.

Calico Jack: Edward’s old Jaeger partner before Jack was injured in battle. Comes back after Izzy contacts him to break up Edward and Stede. Tells Stede they used to be an item to throw him off on their next mission.

Nigel Badminton: Stede’s childhood bully and now in charge of the Anti-Kaiju Wall programme. Thinks Jaegers are a waste of money and resources.

(I’m uncertain if Stede kills him by accident or if he’s just a pain in the arse foil.)

Spanish Jackie: Kaiju Organ Harvester and mob leader.

Not sure who the Marshall/Officer of the LA Shatterdome would be, if it matters?

[outoutdamnspark]

Over here chewing on my phone because I keep thinking about the submas Pacific Rim au.

• Officially calling this au Echoes in the Deep

• I think it'd likely be set in the PR world, (so... the "real" world,) because it just seems easier to do it that way. At least for me. Which means no pokemon, probably. The Becket boys were stationed in Alaska, so I'm going to say the train twins (Trewyn? I like that surname for them a lot) are stationed somewhere in California, despite how much I wish I could set them in New York. But alas. Pacific Rim.

• (Do I need to stick to "logical" things in an au set in a post-kaiju-apocalypse world protected by giant mechs? No. Will I attempt to do so anyway? Yes.)

• Emmet and Ingo are the pilots of the Mark-3 Jaeger Spectre Arachne.

• They're still super famous in this - as Raleigh says, "jaeger pilots became rock stars." They're on par with the Becket brothers and, (because I adore them) the team from Cherno Alpha; just as drift compatable as the Beckets (though maybe not as showboat cocky) and just as brutally efficient as Cherno. Rather than taking delight in how tough a battle is, they take great pride in their ability to take a kaiju down swiftly and cleanly, with as little collateral damage as possible. They have a 0 Human Casualties streak, taking down breached kaiju long before they can ever make it to shore.

• Used a name generator for this, but the kaiju that finally manages to take them down is gonna be called 'Encroacher,' a Category III, same as Knifehead, the kaiju that took down Gipsy Danger. Neither of the boys die, and they manage to just baaaaarely defeat Encroacher, but their jaeger, Spectre Arachne, is fucked.

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

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A/N I’ve tried so hard to post this, sorry for all the technical difficulties...

[fandomflotilla]

I would love to hear more about the arkos pacific rim au

I tagged you with another post earlier so I'll try to bring up some stuff I didn't get to there, namely the meet cute!

Okay, so Jaeger pilots are basically rock stars in Remnant by this point. Like, Huntsmen were already heroes, then you add in massive war machines? Hell yeah they get even more famous.

Pyrrha is exceptionally famous, but basically every Jaeger pilot has some level of recognizability.

The problem is, when people are famous, you tend to get...groupies. Drift compatibility is more an art than a science on the best of days, and basically the only way people know if you’re drift compatible is hooking people up. And given how expensive that is, the best way they’ve had so far to narrow that field is to have the pilots choose people they think they’ll vibe with.

…which means there is a MASSIVE incentive to Kisś the ass of Jaeger pilots who might even potentially be looking for partners. This has become such a problem, when pilots formally test applicants with 1 on 1 duels, both the applicants and the pilots have to do so in full all black bodysuits that obscure their identity.

Jaune was, of course, one of the applicants. He got a bit of formal huntsmen training (which he sucked at) before he got a chance to test himself against a Jaeger pilot (which he also sucked at).

While the pilot was kind, and genuinely considered him as a potential partner partner despite his incompetence (it was Ruby, she’d met Jaune earlier that day and felt sorry for him), Jaune just didn’t have the skills yet to pilot a Jaeger.

So he began training, at night, because CRDL is definitely still a thing, and they would bully him for his incompetence.

And one night he found this beautiful redhead also training in the dark hours when the gym was empty.

He simply gave her a nod, and continued his training…which got her attention.

Namely, because he might’ve been the first person in literal years who didn’t immediately recognize Pyrrha Nikos.

A few nights of training later to confirm that, no, he doesn’t recognize her, and it’s not some long con to get on her good side, and she politely offers to spot him on his weights training.

And from there, things only grow…