#there’s nothing like a pacific rim au

[underthebednotebook]

Someone mind telling me why there hasn't been a Pacific Rim Wincest AU yet?

If you think about drift compatible, it is about having a neural connection and physical compatibility. Mentally and physically you have to be in sync with another person and being able to enter a neural handshake in order to drift--meaning letting another person into your head with no barriers so that you become one with your Jaeger.

TELL ME RIGHT NOW THAT DEAN AND SAM WOULDN'T BE THE BEST GODDAMN FIGHTERS IN THIS UNIVERSE.

Highest records of Kaiju taken down, highest battles won, being able to fight both in the ocean and in the land with minimal casualties (thanks to Sammy handling Dean's most combative attitude) and receiving the love and praise of everybody in the United States because they are representing the little cities with their Jaeger Dorothy Hellride.

And Dean would be so smug about it too. During the drift compatibility tests he makes a big show of fighting cadet after cadet, person after person and even go so far as to judge their moves while they are fighting and telling them that they are fighting like pretty boys just let out of the bunkers only to throw a fighting stick at Sam and asking the people if they want to see how it is done.

Sam, maybe dipping his toes into Jaeger tech and running the exams, shakes his head and rolls his eyes but decides that maybe it would be good to show them what two partners with drift compatibility look like. And so Sam and Dean talk, talk with their arms and their movements and the way they keep trying to pin each other down, until a machine shrills behind them telling them their compatability score.

97%, a nearly perfect match.

That just brings a smile to Dean's face and goes over to hug Sam and pull him downwards to ruffle his hair but Sam isn't happy at all. All of these just serve as reminders for something he can't have or he can't want. All these constant things in his life about how he and Dean are perfect for each other, one in the same, practically the same person.

It drives him insane.

So imagine one day they are doing a routine check up, keeping Dorothy Hellride (or as Dean likes to call her 'baby') in tip top shape and Dean is ready to start the neural handshake with a wink and a smile to his baby bro but his smile falters when he sees Sam look away from him.

Weird.

But the neural handshake is starting out as it usually does and Dean can't help but feel comfortable with the feeling. It's just him and Sam in here. Nobody else belongs in this space but just them. Memories just pop up as if he is driving through them. Him sneaking into Sam's crib and sleeping with him. Sam and him running through the rain sharing only one flannel. The night John and Mary died, Jaeger fight gone wrong, and Dean and Sam were sitting alone inside of Dorothy and Dean vowing to protect his baby brother from anything with the Jaeger their mom and Dad left--

And then nothing.

Dean opens his eyes and his head snaps to meet Sam.

Darkness meant that the connection was being blocked, that there was a wall in one of their heads. There is something that Sammy doesn't want him to see. He calls out to his brother and Sam just shakes his head, not knowing what is happening and Dean's voice gets louder asking for an explanation, Sam's voice gets louder saying that he doesn't know what's going on either, everything around them is just screeching that there is something wrong that has never happened before and Dean feels so hurt and so ANGRY because where the hell did this side of Sammy that he doesn't know, understand, possess came from--!

The test is kaput and Dean feels the worst he's ever felt, begging Sam to just talk to him about this sudden wall and that he promised he would protect him from anything but he can't protect him from something he doesn't know.

He probably feels even worse when Sam is nowhere to be seen the day after, leaving behind a note saying that he is going off to study more about the tech at another branch.

#spn #wincest #pacific rim au #someone talk to me about this im going insane #drift compatibility more like incest compatibility #sam just has nothing but thoughts of dean dicking him down so good #and Dean can't see that #hell none of the other scientists want to see that either

[peachesofteal]

Thinking-

about a Pacific Rim AU where Simon and Johnny are in love and together, but not drift compatible. They’re both right side pilots, stronger and more dominant over their left side counterparts, and in a Jaeger, they just don’t work.

It’s all well and good, until Simon’s co-pilot of almost five years is killed. All that work, all that time… wasted.

Simon could kill him himself, if some poor sod didn’t already do the job.

Their captain starts the process of finding a replacement, cranking through cadets in an attempt to find a very specific person, a very specific brain capable of completing a neural bridge with Simon, until they finally stumble upon you.

Johnny is thrilled. He reads your file, pours over your record, drinks up every detail available, all before ever laying eyes on you. He finds your social media, your hometown paper, education record, service record, the works. You’re a shiny, smart, capable yang to Simon’s yin. You’ll be perfect.

A perfect match, he thinks. Thank fucking Christ.

But…

Simon instantly dislikes you. You’re too bright, sunshine abrasive in the dark of his life. He’s dismissive and stand offish, irritated by the fact command did not allow him and Johnny to even try drifting again, instead choosing to place him with a complete stranger shipped to his doorstep from halfway around the world. He doesn’t want you crawling around in his brain. He doesn’t want his memories to become yours, and vice versa. He doesn’t want you in his- their life. He wants you to fuck off.

It beats you down. You weren’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this. A co-pilot who can’t even look at you? Who dismisses you at every turn? It’s awful. You had heard stories about the Ghost, sure… but didn’t expect him to be so resistant to a new partner.

It’s so awful, you get pissed drunk one night. End up in a dark dive bar, licking your wounds and moaning to yourself about how all your training, all your work, is going to be for nothing. You’re going to fail. You’ll never pilot a Jaeger, because your co-pilot is too resistant, too controlling, won’t even try. It sucks.

So, okay. You have a little pity party. You try to drown your sorrows, and the guy next to you is very, very sympathetic. He listens to you cry about it, empathizes with your struggle and tries to commiserate with you.

It helps, of course, that he’s gorgeous. Blue eyes, golden like a god, long strands of mohawk perfectly framing his sheer bone structure.

“Dinnae worry, hen. ‘M sure he’ll come around. He’s just got to get to know ye s’more.” He coos, pressing a blazing hot thigh against yours with a wink. You lean a little bit into him, let him trace his fingertips down your spine, across your neck.

You’re so distracted, you don’t know the mass of a man wearing a mask, sitting in the shadows. Watching.

#this would be SO toxic #or wholesome tbh #depends on which direction it goes #pacific rim AU #ghoap x reader #peaches writes

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2

Pt.1 | Pt.3

Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.

“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 

“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.

“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 

“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?

“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 

“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 

“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 

“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 

“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 

“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 

The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 

Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.

He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 

In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 

“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 

Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 

“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 

“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 

Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 

“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 

There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 

In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 

“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 

He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 

Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 

“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 

The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 

Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 

In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 

Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

#dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #art #dinluke fanart #fanfic #fanfiction #pacific rim au #dinluke au #tru's dinluke pacific rim au

[m00nc4kes]

A Chance. (pacific rim! au)

hobie brown x gn!reader

word count: 2k

summary: Hellion Riser. That's the jaeger you wanted to pilot. The only problem? The remaining pilot isn't accepting requests for a co-pilot at the moment nor... ever.

warnings: arguing, swearing, sparring, hopefully hobie isn't too ooc (his accent is a nightmare for me, bear with me pls)

notes: the reader doesn't have a specified gender (at least I tried to make sure they didn't, lemme know if I specified at some point); my readers are always black coded even if it's never mentioned, but anyone can read it! uhhhh I took some creative liberties so you don't have to know anything about pacific rim lololol

[part 1] (ur here :p) [part 2]

"And just what makes you think you'd be able to handle her, hm?"

You startled from your place on the metal bridge that overlooked your potential jaeger, Hellion Riser. And to your luck, the one thing stopping you from ever piloting her was walking up behind you. 

You flicked your gaze over your shoulder, simply acknowledging his presence, before looking back at the jaeger. You watched as people tinkered with her, the buzz of drills and shrills of metal being dug into filled your ears. 

Hobie stepped up beside you and mirrored your position on the railing. You knew he was still waiting for an answer, but you didn't think you could give him one without getting upset all over again. Instead, you asked your own question.

"Why haven't you found a co-pilot yet?"

"Why ask questions you know the answer to?"

This asshole. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Maybe you'd know the answer if you let me in your head." You tapped your forehead, referencing the drift that would settle everything once and for all. He just looked at you with those warm amber eyes of his. They told you nothing about how he felt, instead they blinked lazily at you.

He stood up straight to stretch before turning around and leaning his back against the railing, facing away from the jaeger. He shrugged. "Maybe I don' need to kno' that bad."

You huffed and shook your head. "What's the point of being a pilot for her if you don't actually want to pilot, Hobie?"

"To make sure no one else pilots her."

You clenched your fists. The blood rushed to your ears and you tried to curb your rising frustration with deep breaths. You didn't need to do this again. Not with him. But you couldn't help but—  "How fucking selfish is that?"

And, oh, you could see his eyes switch from being nonchalant to a sudden sharp fury. "Selfish?" You'd struck a nerve. "What's fuckin' selfish about makin' sure no one else dies piloting that bloody thing?" His brows were furrowed as he crowded into your space. Luckily for him, you had no problem matching his energy.

"Everything," you spat. "Everything about it is fucking selfish! The entire point of those damn jaegers is to risk our life to make sure that an innocent one isn't taken instead."

That made him turn away from you with a scoff. You grabbed his arm to make him face you again, but he stubbornly kept his face turned away from you. 

"If it weren't for those death traps, I wouldn't be in front of you, pissing you the fuck off and pushing your buttons. I'd be dead like every other innocent person who never had a chance against the kaijus! Just because you're scared, doesn't mean that you should stop someone else from being saved."

He latched onto your wrist and you expected him to yank you off of him, but instead he gently removed your grip. Then, with a somber expression on his face, he asked, "You've never drifted with someone before, have you?"

You leveled your gaze at him. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

He appraised you for a moment before flicking his eyes over toward Hellion. “They’ll tell you that your minds become one and you’ll fight in sync and all tha’ good stuff. But,” he hesitated, “they won’t tell you what it’s like being completely connected to your co-pilot. In an instant, you’ll kno’ them inside and out. You’ll kno’ wha’ makes ‘em tick and wha’ makes ‘em break. You’ll be in their head at every moment, you’ll feel ‘em even when ya not in the jaeger.

“I was still connected to Karl when he was torn outta the jaeger. Felt everything he felt. How scared he was. How much pain he was in. All of it. Then there was nothin’. Complete and utter silence.”

He reached forward and tapped your temple. His gaze steeled you where you stood. 

“And I don’t think you’re ready for allat.”

You waved his hand away. “We don’t know that.”

He huffed as if he were talking to a small petulant child. “Why’re you so adamant on pilotin’ with me? There’re plenty of single pilots lookin’ for somebody.”

Now wasn’t that an amazing question? Frankly, it was a question you really didn’t want to answer. At least, not in all honesty. “For one, Hellion was the one who saved my life when I was younger and I’ve always wanted to pilot her. For two, I think we’d fight pretty well together.”

“Is that so?” Hobie’s tone was dubious. You didn’t appreciate it.

“Yes, that’s so. Stop lookin’ at me like that.”

A small grin danced along his lips. “Not lookin’ at you in any typa way.”

You made an irritated noise in your throat. “I’m serious about what I said before, Hobie.”

He sighed. “I kno’ you were. So was I.”

There was so much you wanted to say in the moment, hoping you’d be able to change his mind, but you rested your case. There was no point in arguing with a brick wall. You tilted your head to look at Hobie, really look at him. “The trials are tomorrow. I’ll be there.” You stepped away. “If you really don’t want to be there, I won’t understand in the way you want, but I’ll leave it be. Okay?”

The two of you stared at each other for a quiet moment before you finally turned and walked away.

That night, you laid in your bunker and wondered if you were truly ready for the vulnerability that came with drifting. Especially with someone like Hobie. The man had set records with his drift partner— his best friend. Their bond wasn’t something that could ever be competed with. Who were you? Some random jaeger technician that dreamed of being a pilot.

You shook the insecurity from your mind. This meant too much to you. This wasn’t just for you. It was for your cousin. For Riri.

The thought of her made you flip onto your side and shut your eyes. Whether or not you cried would be between you and your wet pillow.

The trials were always an exciting event since it didn’t happen very often. People from all over the base would gather to watch the next potential jaeger partners spar it out.

It was a simple concept. First person to four hits won. Although the main goal was to win, the trainer would be watching for compatibility. 

You maneuvered your way through the tightly packed hallway. People chatted excitedly to each other, ready to witness whatever was to come. You did your best to ignore them until something caught your attention.

“I wonder if Hobie’s gonna show up—”

“You already know he’s not!”

You felt your lips turn up and you pushed yourself into the sparring room with a little more force than necessary. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to get situated around the mat. The room buzzed with anticipation as you scanned the area for Hobie. When you didn’t find him, you did your best to curb your disappointment. 

The single pilots all wore a white tank top with a pair of sweats and stood in a row along the side of the mat. Some of them tapped their staff nervously or swung it around to get used to its weight.

The trainer, Jess, stood to her full height. She tapped her clipboard and said, “First up, Miles Morales. Let the trials begin.” 

The rounds that followed were impressive to say the least. The single pilots won some and lost some while Jess took notes. Maybe you would’ve been more excited about it if your dream of piloting the Hellion hadn’t been crushed so quickly. 

The last competitor’s back landed on the mat with a solid thud and Gwen stood to her full height. Jess gave her a nod before acknowledging the crowd.

“Before I officially conclude the trials, would anyone else like to try their luck?”

A silence fell over the audience and you half considered standing up for the hell of it, however, the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway stole everyone’s attention. 

Suddenly, a head full of wicks appeared around the corner and set your heart ablaze. Your pulse skyrocketed as the crowd fell into a loud commotion.

Hobie, on the other hand, looked absolutely bothered that he was present in the first place. He wore a black tank top that stopped right above his belly button and a pair of dark sweats. He locked eyes with Jess who raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oi, mind if I borrow one of them sticks?”

Gwen stepped off of the mat. “Hey, use mine.” She tossed it to him and he caught it with an outstretched hand.

“Thanks, Gwendy.” He gave her a grin before scanning the crowd. “Now, I’m fightin’ one person and one person only. If that’s alright with ya, Jess.” 

“I have no objections to it.”

Suddenly, his staff was being pointed in your direction. “I got a score to settle with ya.”

Being put on the spot did a number of things to you, most importantly, however, it put you on autopilot. You wasted no time rising to your feet and marching over to the mat. Pavitr, the sweetheart, handed you a staff.

Hobie scrutinized you as you slid off your shoes and took a deep breath. Then, he gave you a knowing look. “Don’t think I’m doin’ this to be nice. Just provin’ a point.”

The grin that spread across your face was determined. “I’ll be provin’ a point too, m’kay?”

He hummed and swung his staff up to get into position. “I won’t be goin’ easy on you.”

“Neither will I.”

Jess’s voice cut through your banter. “You may begin.”

There were several things you had noted as you watched Hobie pilot Hellion Riser. Appearance-wise, he was tall and lanky, but he held strength in his defined arms and legs. On the other hand, he was reckless, yet every move he made was tactical in the long run.

Your back hit the mat before you could even blink. Hobie’s staff hovered over your face, deliberately making a point.

“One-zero,” he stated and let you get back up. 

Another thing you had noted was that he loved to banter as he fought. Though, this match had none of it. It was as if he was determined to show that you two were incompatible— that he wouldn’t allow someone to be compatible enough to be in his head again.

But at the same time, he would’ve proved that point by not showing up in the first place.

You stopped your staff mere inches from the side of his face.

“One-one,” you said with a smirk, then stepped back. 

And that’s how the back and forth went. Your staffs would connect with each other with loud clicks and clacks until the other misstepped. That’s how it went until sweat dripped down your bodies and you were getting sick of the other meeting your strikes.

Then, you were tied.

Three to three.

Your breaths were heavy as you waited for the other to make a move. You decided to head in first with a feint to his ribs, but he saw it coming and you barely had time to dodge his staff. It became a frantic tango with the both of you adapting to each other’s next move.

Though, you knew it wouldn’t last long. Hobie was adaptable and could fall into a routine in how he fought. However, along with his recklessness, he thrived off of unpredictability.

Which was how you ended up being flipped over his shoulder and back on your back.

His staff hovered over your face once more. He panted and wiped his forehead. “Four-three. I win.”

There were cheers from the crowd, but you tuned them out as your attention turned toward Jess and the expression she wore on her face.

In all your days at the base, you could count on one hand the amount of times you had seen the trainer wholeheartedly smile from pride.

And this had been the first.

Hobie stuck out his hand to help you up and you took it. After he pulled you up, you motioned for him to turn around and he did. You saw him stiffen at the sight of Jess’s grin. Even though the results wouldn’t be posted until later on, somehow you already knew.

The match had only proved your point.

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psssttt, lemme know if yall want another part

I love this little idea hehehehe

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv #pacific rim au #across the spiderverse #spider punk #writing

[jamiesfootball]

Okay I have treats I should be answering, but since I typed it all out anyways-

*rips open trench coat*

Here's the list of Jamie AUs I have puttering around in the brain:

-Jamie-is-Zava AU! In which Jamie never gets traded to Richmond. Instead he ends up at a different club, one that's meaner AND within driving distance of Manchester. Because this is Jamie, he never stops battling, and within three years he is an angry shell of the person but also an absolute killer as a striker. His relationship with his dad is also the worst its ever been. So the entire league is stunned - stunned! - when one Leslie Higgins runs into him in the bathroom during a match and jokingly says, "I don't supposed you'd ever want to play for a team like Richmond" and Jamie Tartt agrees! (Men really do be giving each other jobs in bathrooms)

-hockey Jamie! (this is based on nothing I just like hockey jerseys and ice skating)

-figure skater!girl!Jamie (based off someone’s previous post about a girl jamie getting pushed into it by her dad) Again, ice skates. outfits. but now also with music. Also Jamie being stuck in another high-control environment. Ough.

-bartender Jamie! He got injured in the academy and, well, bars are really the only other place his dad ever dragged him, so it was easy enough to get a job, wasn't it? And it's not like he doesn't get tipped well. He's a handsome lad and great at charming people (makes him uncomfortable sometimes when it's the older women flirting with him, but he doesn't like to think about that much)

-bartender Jamie again! This time with an accompanying Roy Kent who is also a bartender because neither of them 'made it out.' Roy is a tired, overworked line cook who has had it up to HERE with this new guy who works the front of house. Makes him want to spit in the guy's shift meal, but he'd never do that to the food (which he at least respects). And well, sometimes the guy looks a little desperate about the shift meal. Roy's been there - was there the whole time he was helping his sister with Phoebe while she was getting her nursing degree. Didn't mean he signed up to teach him to cook. But they did just lose another line cook. Fuck.

-lawyer jamie! He wants to make sure people like his dad don’t happen to other people. He brings a very Boston Legal energy to Roy's The Practice energy. Keeley is a paralegal. Rebecca owns the firm now. Ted is HR.

-criminal profiler Jamie! Going full Criminal Minds here people! Heavy on the themes, and the whole 'using your trauma to profile the unsub' thing, and the 'we don't profile each other (except for when we do)

-CSI Jamie! But it’s the fake CSI where they are borderline detectives and he keeps getting threatened/kidnapped. He is basically the Nick Stokes of the crew

-Rockstar Jamie! He got famous because of his face but he actually IS talented! But they won’t let him play any ‘real’ music and he has loads of anger he’d like to scream about thanks. He's always wanted to work with Roy Kent, but Roy's old band notoriously broke up in the messiest fucking manner and Roy's been working in a limited, behind the scenes fashion ever since (and fucking loathes the sort of music Jamie makes).

-Movie star Jamie! He’s a palatable actor, but what he secretly really wants to do is direct. Meanwhile former indie-darling director Roy who had a string of failures got low-balled into directing this run-of-the-mill drama. When the first actor dropped out without warning, Keeley called in a favor to get her somewhat-famous ex-boyfriend to star in it instead and he will not. stop. giving. Roy. notes.

-Bonus AU mentions:

-Jaeger pilot Jamie (Pacific Rim au)

-Hitter turned hacker Jamie (Leverage au - I have a whole tag for it)

-Dead Jamie (The Good Place au) - he is fairly sure he is not supposed to be in The Good Place and is white knuckling it so he doesn't get caught. Ted is Michael. Chaos ensues.

#this is the tippity tip of the iceberg #jamie tartt #ted lasso #AU masterlist #leverage au #pacific rim au #genderswap au

[milflewis]

🎤 Telepathy au unless you’ve forgotten about it, then Pacific rim au

1.

George is really nervous about the whole becoming teammates and connecting their minds together. If only Senna and Prost were able to keep their crap together for one bloody day.

He’s being cool about it though. Proper suave. No one can tell. Probably. Maybe.

“Mate, can you stop your knee for, like, one minute, yeah? It keeps shaking the table.”

George does not stop his knee. It stays bouncing. It is not shaking the table.

Alex rolls his eyes at him. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Shut up,” George tells him because he has yet to learn how to tell Alex Albon to go away. And nothing Alex says here will help.

His foray as a teammate in Formula One does not inspire any feelings of relaxation in George. Having Max Verstappen in his head might possibly be the worst thing George has ever heard of in his life.

2.

It is somewhat comical that one of the things that makes George feel good about the bond in his head is bloody Nico Rosberg.

It is just — Lewis is so. So.

Lewis is so quiet. And not only as he moves around in the world, physically like. That, George is used to. That, he understands. Has seen before.

But he is so quiet and silent and not fucking there in George’s head, he could have died and George isn’t sure if he would’ve even noticed.

That, possibly, might be an exaggeration. There is a sea in George’s head, and it is still and calm and deep and, the water looks so warm, and it scares George to bits. He wonders if Lewis knows he is the sea.

Valtteri is so in tune with Lewis, even now. Yuki likes to watch them, pointing out when one unthinkingly kicks someone out of the seat next to them right before the other arrives, or when they turn, not seeing yet but knowing who it is that taps their shoulder. George thinks he does it to rile Pierre up. George wishes he would stop. Or at least, do it where George cannot hear.

George has not asked Valtteri what having Lewis in his head was like. If he was quiet for him too. He thinks he would rather chew off his own foot.

And then, Lewis talks with Nico Rosberg. In public. It doesn’t even last five minutes. Rosberg is lit up from within, blond and plastic and smug. The internet breaks.

The sea stays still and calm and deep. Lewis is quiet. It no longer looks warm.

George is cold to his toes.

Lewis takes one look at him when he is back in the garage, all bundled up in a huge coat and shivering, and frowns deeply. Bono hovers at his shoulder.

There is a twist to Lewis’s mouth that George does not recognise.

“Here, man,” Lewis says after he pops back up from wherever he disappeared to. Not that, you know, George is tracking him or anything. “Drink.”

The mug he pushes into George’s hands is hot to the touch and steaming. He breathes it in.

“Thanks, mate.”

Mouth twisting, Lewis says, “Yeah, yeah, well, like. Yeah. Least I could do, right? Sorry. About that.”

And he’s walking away then, shoulders broad, steps light. Lewis is never small, but there is a strange little misery slope to his neck. George swallows. His finger itch with warmth, tingling.

3.

“What’s he like?” Sebastian asks, leaning against the railing beside him. He waggles his eyebrows and taps at his forehead like Lewis didn’t understand what he was asking. He looks ridiculous.

Bet he drives you crazy, Valtteri had said, weeks earlier. He had been smiling. He was letting his hair grow out, freshly tan. He had looked good.

Lewis had ignored him and turned away to talk to Guanyu, Valtteri laughing. Guanyu had perked up at the mention of fashion, content to not get involved in whatever Lewis and Valtteri were going on about.

Lewis looks around. The camera and microphone is down at the other end of the parade.

“Skittish,” Lewis tells him quietly. He leans forward, elbows on the metal railing. It is cool and slick with the mornings rain. “Spooks easy.”

“Lewis.” Sebastian is using his Serious Voice with his Serious Face. Lewis squints at him suspiciously. “You do know that he is a person, right? Not a horse. Or a dog.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. “Funny.”

Sebastian grins at him, bright. His hair is pushed back by a headband, curls loose. “I try.”

“Not hard enough,” Lewis mutters, and Sebastian ignores him, chattering away about the recent Fernando-and-Jenson drama.

4.

George tries very hard to keep any Valtteri Bottas thoughts locked away around Lewis.

None of Lewis’s friends dislike Valtteri. At least, not openly. Not where George can see.

This feels important.

Sebastian — is easier. Even with the depth of history that he and Lewis and the whole world only ever hint at.

5.

George shows up with a slight black eye one race weekend. It is not a sex injury.

None of the reporters actually ask that question, though they get close, eyes smirking. Lando, unfortunately but not surprisingly, has no similar inclinations to keep the joke to himself.

“Mate,” he calls out when he walks into the driver’s briefing. “You know you’re doing it wrong if she kicks you in the face, yeah?”

George flushes bright red. His mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Normally, he can deal with Lando. Normally, he even enjoys. But he didn’t prepare himself this time and the room is full with drivers and Lewis is looking at him, face unreadable, and Valtteri’s eyebrow is raised and, and, and.

“Speaking from experience?” Alex asks Lando, cool as anything. He is leaning back in the chair beside George.

There is not a ripple in the sea. It could be a windless day.

Lando laughs, flipping him off, and drops down in the seat next to Daniel.

It is not a sex injury. But it does involve Lily and Alex, and Lily throwing the dildo with the number 44 written messily across it in Sharpie at Alex after George opened his birthday present and, promptly, swore. George cannot say this, for obvious reasons, the least of them being he cannot ever ever say anywhere Lewis might hear that Alex have him a sex toy and made it Lewis-personified.

Furthermore, George has a sneaky feeling that telling people Lily and Alex were involved with whatever happened would just make the rumours worse.

Lewis sits down across the room, next to Yuki and Pierre. He catches George’s eye, the opposite one to George’s injury, and winks slowly.

George looks quickly away, grinning. His neck is terribly warm.

#fighting my brain and writing u this as an early birthday present. i love you. #this was written on a bus at 7am im sorry #mark tag #george/lewis #little fics #five head cannons #more like five moments tho ig lol #niamh.asks

[formula-fun]

Pacific rim au snippet?? for us to live a little happier in coming days ksjadjshs? 👀

i am pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead

The day Sebastian Vettel descends on the Faenza Academy, four things happen.

First, a series of rumors fly across the entirety of base. Charles is ninety percent sure they’re George’s doing, but the way they telephone between the cadets is truly a modern marvel. In the morning the word is that Vettel is visiting to scope out the cadets to select his new copilot, never mind that none of them have ever even drifted in their lives. By noon the story has been transformed into a harrowing tale involving Vettel, a recent Kaiju attack in Cabo, and a torrid affair with Director Binotto’s wife.

“Did you hear about Binotto’s wife?” George asks during lunch, eyes wide.

“That was your rumor, idiot,” Alex tells him. “Obviously it’s not true. Binotto doesn’t even have a wife.”

By that afternoon, it’s rumored that Binotto lost his wife in a Kaiju attack in Cabo, where she bravely fought in a top-secret test jaeger as Vettel’s copilot.

The second thing that happens is training is suspended for a full day. Truthfully, Charles thinks this should be the real source of rumors, but they’re all so burned out none of the cadets want to question having a day off. It doesn’t mean they actually take the day off—they’re too bored for that, and they’ve forgotten how to do anything else than train relentlessly and occasionally study the odd K-Science journal.

Still, the Director, his assistants, half the training staff and Vettel all spend the morning locked in a conference room doing god knows what.

“They ordered pizza about an hour ago,” Alex tells him. He’s been pretending to read Jaeger Daily for two hours, sprawled out on a towel stolen from the bathroom while he pretends not to watch the Operations building from behind his sunglasses. “I heard you can predict a war based on how often the militaries order pizza. It means they’re planning something.”

“This is Italy,” Pierre says, unbothered, stripped shirtless and sprawled out in the sun a few paces away. “They order pizza literally every day.”

Alex hums. “And they got affogatos.”

“Affogatos?! Mon Dieu. Call the press.”

It probably means nothing, but it’s certainly strange—the conference, not the pizza. Vettel is a well-known face not just in the Jaeger program, but in the world. He was confirmed into the program just a handful of months earlier after having matched with some kid in Australia, and once their Jaeger goes into service he’ll be the first European ranger ever. It’s not a great statistic, seeing as there have only been six rangers in active combat in the history of the planet, but it’s still something.

The Faenza school is small, and often forgotten; most of the European academies are the same way. That’s why it’s even stranger that Vettel is here, of all places.

The third thing that happens that day is Charles kicks Max’s ass in the Kwoon. It’s not related to Vettel in any way, but it’s still funny.

Charles’ first impression of Max when they met eight months ago was that he’s too serious. His eyes are shaped like half-moons, clearly designed for laughing, but he frowns all the time. His lower lip juts out a little, petulant. Charles’ dad used to scold Charles for pouting like that when he was little, warning him his face would get stuck like that, and if Charles was too old for it at seven then Max is much too old for it at sixteen. It’s possible that his face is stuck like that, in fact, since the months that Charles has known him he hasn’t relaxed once. 

He doesn’t relax while training. He doesn’t relax in the rec room. He doesn’t relax while eating—if anything he’s the least relaxed doing that, shoveling food into his mouth like he’s about to be called to attention at any second. His frown lingers as they run laps of the dusty base in Faenza, the sun beating down hot and unrelenting, and while he’s training on the sim: thirteen drops and eleven kills, a record that’s second best only to Charles’ own.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” Max had said when Charles had stepped out of the sim for the first time, exactly one kill to his name. He doesn’t say that the second time, or the third, or the fourth.

Like Charles said. No sense of humor.

Max is good at Muay Thai, which pisses Charles off to no end. It’s not that Charles is bad at it, he’s just been a little shorter than Max and a lot more wiry for the entire time they’ve known each other. Max is gangly too, but his legs are stronger, a fact that Charles has learned on more than one occasion by catching a knee straight to the solar plexus—a blow which Max barely has to strain to deliver. They’ve sparred—fought, really—enough times now for Charles to know that no matter how quick he can be, Max still has a serious physical advantage.

“Teach me Judo,” he told his trainer the fifth time Max pressed him out of the ring during a training session—a fight—with a heavy offense and pointy elbows, the director’s assistant watching from the corner and taking notes on a clipboard.

“We don’t usually teach that,” Andrea told him. “You’ll never beat a kaiju by throwing it.”

“I want to beat him.” At Andrea’s hesitation he added, “I’ll train extra. I don’t care.”

So Andrea started teaching him Judo; and on the day that Vettel arrives at the academy Charles steps into the ring with Max, letting him get two swings in before grabbing his wrist, using his momentum against him and flipping him square over his shoulder.

Max hits the mat hard enough that the sound echoes through the empty kwoon.

“Judo isn’t on the training list,” Max gripes, pushing himself up and rolling over to clutch at his nose. “Fuck.”

“I’m just adapting to the style of my opponent,” Charles says flatly. “As any good ranger would do.”

“I hate you,” Max tells him, dabbing at his nose—entirely for dramatic effect, since there isn’t a drop of blood in sight and Charles is pretty sure he didn’t even hit him there—and then spins on the mat to kick Charles’ feet out from under him.

Charles goes toppling, landing with a grunt, which is the moment Max decides to try to wrestle him. A horrible decision, really. Max is shit at wrestling. It takes all of thirty seconds for Charles to pin him, catching his left arm in an ude-garami, which is the exact moment that the door swings open.

“Ah,” Director Binotto says. “Leclerc and Verstappen, some of the brightest in our youth program.”

“Let me up,” Max hisses through his teeth, his breath hot against his ear, but Charles just tightens his grip.

“You haven’t tapped out,” Charles replies, holding Max down with his own chest as he twists Max’s elbow. Max lets out a string of noises that sound very Dutch and very rude.

“They do look it,” someone says blandly, and when he looks up Charles is greeted by the sight of Sebastian Vettel standing over him.

He springs to his feet, snapping to attention. Max follows suit, albeit a little slower.

“Relax,” Vettel says. “We don’t stand on rank in the kwoon. I thought that was the first rule of training,” he adds, raising his voice a little.

Binotto shrugs. “We do things differently here.”

Vettel’s eyebrows flash up, then back down again. He ignores the director, giving them both an easy smile, and Charles and Max’s hands fall away at the same time. “I’ve never visited any of the youth programs, but I’ve heard great things,” he says. “How long have you been training?”

“Eight months, sir,” Charles says.

“Please, it’s Sebastian. You’ve been here since the opening of the academy, then,” Sebastian says, his mouth forming into a C shape. “And you’ve been training to be copilots?”

Charles looks at Max, who’s already looking back. His mouth is pouty again, his eyebrows furrowed. Too serious.

“Our cadets did not begin the matching process until last week,” Binotto says, stepping forward to take his place at Sebastian’s side. “We have been training them as a group in the hopes that compatibility would be demonstrated organically, and for the most part that has proved to be successful.”

“How so?”

Binotto lets out a little hum. “Some pairs we brought in together proved to be compatible—siblings, best friends. Other times this proved to be the opposite. And then of course, some compatible pairs just find each other. We had our suspicions, but neural aptitude tests only confirmed it.”

Charles frowns, a protest poised behind his teeth.

“And you two train on the sim together?” Sebastian asks them, his face open.

“No,” Max says. “We only train solo.”

“What are your scores?”

“Thirteen drops, eleven kills.”

“Thirteen, twelve,” Charles adds, and can’t bite down the smug smile when Max shoots a glare his way.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, blowing out a breath. He looks to Binotto, who raises his eyebrows with a small smile.

“That’s impressive,” Sebastian says. “You both want to be rangers one day?”

“Yes, sir,” they say, and it unfortunately comes out in perfect unison.

Sebastian looks at them for a long beat, a serene smile on his face. “I’m not here at an official capacity. I’m just here to scope out the copilot matches in our youth program. You probably already had some idea that you’re drift compatible,” he says, which Charles was not aware of at all, and then while he’s still reeling from that piece of information, “but the tests last week identified you at somewhere between ninety nine point seven and ninety nine point nine percent.”

“That’s not right,” Max blurts out. “We’re not compatible.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Neural tests prove otherwise. So do fighting styles and sim scores, from the looks of it.”

“But we don’t get along.”

“That doesn’t always mean something.” He tilts his head. “If this comes as a surprise, it might be helpful to know that compatibility is about balance as much as it’s about similarities. You might see differences in each other, but in a Jaeger those things will become complementary parts.”

Charles can’t hold back a tiny scoff. What’s supposed to be complementary about Max? His bullheadedness? His ability to eat food faster than the mess hall can produce it?

“Gentlemen,” Binotto says, which is another first—Binotto has never called them that in their lives. “The Jaeger Program needs cadets. Not just rangers, but mechanics, strategists, engineers, support coordinators, biologists, neuroscientists—we need personnel, and now that the academy is on its feet and more jaegers are going into service, it’s time to identify who is part of a viable drift pairing, and who would be better suited to a different division.”

At his side, Max sucks in a short breath, barely audible. Charles himself straightens. He knows a threat when he hears one.

“We’d like to start a project to test drift compatibility through a rudimentary neural handshake,” Binotto says, “and we’re going to be testing that project on you.”

And that’s how the fourth thing happens.

#dont @ me i know nothing abt judo #or muay thai for that matter #other than it seems to involve a lot of kneeing and elbowing and looks very scary #lestappen #pac rim au #writing tag #oh i need a title for this fic btw im open to suggestions

[moosemonstrous]

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - the inherent injustice of being the youngest person in any group

The Wall is nearly ready.

Amadeus likes a good wall, especially if he gets his hands on a printer and some red string. It’s good to be able to put all information in view at once – helps him organise his thoughts, or at least present them in a way that appears organised to a random observer.

“Oh, so we’re in crazy town already?” Tony sighs. “Cho, it’s not been a week.”

The Wall is nearly ready, save for a giant empty space he’d mentally labelled as OTHER PILOT. Now, Amadeus would be the first to admit he can get excited a smidge too quickly, so when he talks Tony through his and Montesi’s findings, he needs to make sure to include absolutely everything. He starts with two near-identical sets-of-four scans of the Maximoffs’ brains.

“No, no, let him talk,” Montesi pushes him into a chair. She’s got her hair up in the messiest bun Amadeus has ever seen on her, and he’s fairly sure she hasn’t meditated once since the first MEG scan came back making zero sense. He’s a great influence on everyone around him. “I triple-checked every conclusion. If this is real…”

“These were taken still in drivesuits, straight out of the Conn-Pod,” he says, tapping the highlighted area in the centre of the sagittal view. “Increased blood flow and activity in hippocampus for up to forty-five minutes after disconnecting from the hardware.”

Next: the original MRI Carter’s team took after the techs fished Reyes out of The Charger. Then, the results of the whole set of tests they took on his first day as their, ah, research participant. Montesi had the misfortune of taking the Hippocratic oath and doesn’t like the kind of language Amadeus got used to in private labs. “Six hours,” he says, pointing at the MRI, “three days,” pointing at the day-one MEG, then: “and yesterday.” He got a little carried away time-wise and didn’t image the scan onto a more user-friendly brain model, so it’s just rows and rows of electromagnetic waves in a table, with the relevant anomalies highlighted in neon green. Tony is a smart cookie; he’ll figure it out.

Smart as he is, he doesn’t really deal in meat brains. “Kid, help me out. What am I looking at? These are all pretty much the same.”

Amadeus just about manages not to clap like a proud parent. “They pretty much are!” He stretches himself across The Wall to point out the similarities in the detected anomalies: “See that? Minimal, but present activity in the frontal cortex, and constant stimulation to the hippocampus.” (Please please please don’t find something obvious I missed this is too interesting to be just. Nothing.) “Six! Days! No aneurysm! No seizures! Not even beginning stages of neuron malfunction!”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is this another Spector?”

Amadeus is ready for that. “Nope. His history is muddled at best – we really need to get into that, by the way – but there is no prefrontal cortex dysfunction, and no damage to the anterior cingulate gyrus.” Tony sends him a truly murderous glare over his fingers. “If it was DID, or schizophrenia, or anything, we would’ve seen signs of it by now. We mapped out his brain millimetre by millimetre, alright? There isn’t another explanation, it must be–”

“Don’t say it,“ Tony warns, but Amadeus can’t help himself:

“–ghost drifting! Come on, Doc, back me up.”

Montesi clears her throat. “He’s right.” Before Amadeus can whoop in victory, she adds: “Don’t put that in writing, I have a reputation to uphold.” She straightens the lapels of her lab coat. “Reyes needs thorough monitoring. There might well be nothing on the other end of that drift.”

“Well—”

“No,” she says, already aggravated by their many, many previous discussions on the topic.

“But—”

“No,” she repeats. “Yes, something weird is going on with his brain. Yes, I think we should investigate. But we have no evidence it’s connected to that dreadful jaeger.”

“Yet!” Amadeus is distantly aware that the noise he makes resembles a dying goose. “Tony, just hear me out.”

“Give me a damn minute.”

Both Amadeus and Montesi back away from the Wall to let him inspect the scans at his leisure. Amadeus hates being evaluated in real time; what he wants is to provide supplementary information to every piece of paper Tony looks at, what he has to do is wait for him to draw his own conclusions. Even though his understanding of neurophysiology is at best intermediate, and even though it’s Amadeus who’s supposed to be the biology side of their partnership—

“Take it down a notch,” Tony tells him seriously. “You’re about to vibrate through the floor. Go grab a drink or something, I need a word with Vicky first.”

“It’s my office,” Amadeus grumbles, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“It’s my base,” Tony raises an eyebrow, but Amadeus knows better than to challenge him on that. “Run along, come back in fifteen. I’ll need you to walk me through the spongy bits again.”

*

Robbie thinks his spine might have turned to jelly. The wooden bench in the locker room didn’t look comfortable at first, but now he reckons he could stay on it for the rest of the shift. Or maybe the rest of his life.

It’s not the most tired he’s ever been. But it’s somewhere in the top five, for sure.

“Hey, man, that wasn’t too bad,” someone punches his shoulder. Robbie is too numb to figure out whether it was hard enough to hurt or not hard enough to register. “Have some water before you pass out.”

He accepts the plastic bottle. Briefly wishes death and suffering upon everyone who laughs when he can’t operate the screw top with his shaking hands. Finally, shoulder-puncher takes mercy on him and takes it away, then hands it back, open.

“Thanks,” he manages to mumble between sips. His bad eye is all screwy and he can still feel adrenaline pulsing in his temples like a hammer. Is he really supposed to do this every day? He doesn't know if he can find his legs before it's time to pick up Gabe.

“First day always sucks,” says the shoulder-puncher. “Brooks doesn’t normally stay on one person the whole time.”

Oh. Good. Someone else says: “I thought newbies were all air support.”

“No way, he’s too short for air support.”

“I could do air support,” Robbie frowns. He’s... not entirely sure what air support is in this context. He’s only partially convinced he’s actually forming words. Shoulder-puncher grabs the water bottle back before it slips from his fingers. “’m not. But I could.”

“Sure you could, pip-squeak,” Shoulder-puncher laughs. His accent is... familiar. Robbie tries to focus enough faculties to actually look at the guy. On his way to buff, blond, freckled like someone who hasn’t given up on a tan despite all signs indicating it isn’t meant to be. Maybe a couple of years older than Robbie. “You sound Californian.”

“East L.A.,” Robbie confirms. Shoulder-puncher points at one of his mates with a satisfied smirk and collects a bundle of Hong Kong dollars among a mix of cheering and booing.

“Grew up there before my old man got drafted,” he tells Robbie, tapping the side of his nose. “Name’s Guerro.”

The three other guys in the locker room also have names, and Robbie will be very embarrassed he can't remember them in the near future. They're training to be on the ground cover, but just as anyone else in the academy, plan to become rangers as soon as the new jaeger finally gets built.

"Brooks said--" Was that meeting classified? Robbie is too wiped out to care. "Vibranium problems. There's a delay."

"Aw, fuck that noise," probably-Kim drops down on the bench to his right. He makes an exaggerated double-take when he notices Robbie’s bad eye. "Dang, did Brooks get you in the face?"

"Accident," he shrugs.

"Make sure you see Nurse Carter, get some drops for that shit," Guerro cranes his neck to take a better look. "It's too fucking damp here, everything takes forever to heal up."

It's... nice. It's nice to have people talk to him rather than at and over him, and use a language he can mostly understand - there's some Cantonese inserts he's still getting his head around. Guerro and his friends tease him for being too-brain dead to remember the way to the barracks and express jealousy that he gets to bunk with the civilians. There's the tiny, irritating sliver wedged between his ribs that bristles at being the new kid again - always - but Robbie is truly too exhausted to pay it any mind.

Besides, comes a thought, if anyone around here is going to make ranger, it's you.

***

(Thanking @cicada-candy and @rokhal for the Spector idea. Also @wazzappp for help with the science magic bc let's be real in my hands that's the best we can hope for 😌😅)

#Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU #robbie reyes #amadeus cho #Oh look it's Guerro #He doesn't have a reason to hate Robbie yet! I'm sure they will become great friends #Augh that whole scene did not want to come out AT ALL

[sunmoonjune]

gods and monsters

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru (poly!) [pacific rim!au]

warnings: minors dni!! gore, death, injuries, blood, allusions to wanting to die, enemies/rivals to friends to lovers (I guess?), fighting, monsters, angst with a happy ending, single parent au! with megumi (I can’t resist this trope with satosugu for some reason), tons of fluff too!, heavy suggestive themes but no actual smut, reader has a brother, reader is never referred to as [name] or y/n, only as nicknames or ‘Red’ (a pilot nickname), plenty of references to the first Pacific Rim movie, apologies for any ooc behavior :((

word count: 27.6k

a/n: ok, so maybe I have a problem. I definitely didn’t intend for this to be so long, I just kept imagining a new scene and getting more ideas and I just couldn’t stop writing them down. somehow satosugu rattles my brain and makes insane amounts of dopamine just like rush through me. anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this fic, it’s definitely a monster :D 

here’s the ao3 link if Tumblr crashes

The last time you were in a Jaeger, the smell of smoke and ash filtered through your lungs and the grime of blood and soot rubbed your wounds raw under your drive-suit. The metallic sound of gears grinding and fire roaring are dull to your ears as the influx of graphic, hellish memories filter through your consciousness. 

The once two-hundred foot hunk of metal had been brought to its knees, left arm ripped from its side and electrical fires clouding the air around its hull in a dark haze. The Scarlet Dragon, previously a crimson-red, Mark-3 mass of destruction, was now nothing more than scraps – the dull, sanguine metal tilting forward to collapse onto the coastline. 

As the whirring of the Jaeger’s engine silences, the air is filled with only the sounds of roaring flames and waves breaking against the machinery. Inside the Scarlet Dragon’s cockpit, you - the only remaining pilot, fight for your life: battling against the needles dug into your spine and attempting to free yourself from the technology that bound you to the pilot seat. When the hair thin needles finally pull away from your skin, you heave a wet cough, choking on the smoke that fills the hull. Left arm numb and nearly paralyzed, blood dripping into the drive-suit, you pull yourself to your knees. 

Ears roaring from the fight and the breach in the Dragon’s hull, you can’t hear anything over the ringing sound that echoes in your skull. Shrieking a pained cry, you fall onto your hands and knees, unable to support your own weight with your injuries. Eyes shifting over to the side of the cockpit, you exhale an anguished sob at the empty space to your left. There’s a gaping hole in the Jaeger’s left side, where both the arm and half the Scarlet Dragon’s head have been ripped to pieces. 

The space of the missing pilot’s seat stares menacingly back at the only remaining form in the Jaeger’s skull. 

An agonizing sob rips from your throat, tearing a guttural sound from your lips. A bolt of pain echoes through your heart, the screams of your copilot still filtering through your ears and the mind-melding agony of their body being torn apart still lingers under your skin. 

Shaking your head to get rid of the memory, you drag yourself to the cavernous hole in the Scarlet Dragon’s cockpit. Hands slicing open over the pointed shrapnel, you manage to pull yourself through the massive gap in the crimson metal. Your body falls a few feet to the packed sand below, a throbbing bolt of pain flowing through your chest, where cracked ribs and bruised skin lay. 

Laying immobile on the sand, you can’t hear anything over the memory of your brother being ripped from his seat, crying out his name as sparks crack through the empty cockpit. Around you, fires continue to roar as the shattered Jaeger continues to fall apart.

It’ll only be moments before rescue helicopters manage to reach your location – the tracker in the drive-suit is seldom wrong. All your broken form can do is force yourself to breathe. The rise and fall of your chest sparks only more pain, but it’s all you can do under the circumstances. You almost give into the darkness, ready to join your brother and succumb to the agony that overtakes your senses. However, the echo of your brother’s voice sinks into your brain, startling your senses and reminding you of the reason you became a pilot. 

Heaving another sob, you cry out as the shift of your ribs throbs painfully in your chest. The sounds of a helicopter’s wings beating through the air fill your ears, and a shining light burns brightly into your cornea as the search light finally finds your defeated body. Outside your mind, there’s a cacophony of noise as search-and-rescue soldiers scramble to save your broken form; orders are being shouted through headsets and questions are passed about the vital signs that your drive-suit is still reporting. 

However, you can't hear any of it over the memory that still flashes back and forth in front of your vision. You can still see your brother’s face when he turns to look at you. His eyes were wide and anxious, lips parted as he tried to pass along his final wishes. You can still feel his shock and agony through the Drift. 

Every moment of his dying anguish was your own. 

You were still connected in the Drift when he’d been torn from his seat. All his thoughts - all his feelings - were your own. Connected in both mind and body in the Jaeger; you could feel his pain as if it was your own skin being ripped from bone. 

After being ripped from the cockpit, you were left in agony. Chest screaming under the weight of both your emotions coupled with your brothers, your brain seems to crumple under the strain of piloting the Scarlet Dragon on your own. 

Jaegers were not meant to be piloted alone. 

The mental and physical strain was too much for a single neurological system to maintain. With your copilot gone, the weight begins to sink onto your skull. It feels as though the mass of the machine itself was collapsing onto your body. With no one else to share the load, you were forced to battle the remaining monster alone; the first soldier to ever pilot a Jaeger and slaughter a Kaiju alone. 

When you cough out another breath, there’s blood on your lips. Your cracked, possibly shattered, ribcage has likely pierced your lungs. It’s agonizing to breathe, but you keep the rise and fall of your chest as steady as you can. 

Around you, there’s chaos. Soldiers, having reached the sand from the rescue helicopters, are frantically pulling gauze tight over the wound in your chest. You don’t even have the energy to wince when the fabric is pulled tight across your ribs. There's more shouting, but it's so muffled to your eardrums. A soldier waves a flashlight over your eyes, scanning your pupils and attempting to gauge your response to the stimulation. 

The soldier clicks the light off, whipping his head over his shoulder to shout something at another. Their eyes are frantic, bodies stiff as they load your form into a rescue stretcher. Once it’s secured tightly by rope to the helicopter, the soldier gives a circled wave of his hand, a muffled shout of confirmation ripping through his headset. 

As your body is airlifted into the sky, a final glimpse of the Scarlet Dragon’s defeated form reaches your weakened eyes – the sanguine metal glinting in the fading sunlight. Smoke still burning high into the sky and orange flames licking at the crushed machinery. 

It’s one last look at the Mark-3 Jaeger; a final farewell to the piece of machinery that you had once held so dearly in your heart. 

As you turn your head away from the burning metal, the fading sun shines into your eyes as you begin to succumb to the weight on your body. Darkness closes around your vision, and despite your best efforts to hold on, each breath becomes harder than the last. With a fading breath and eyes drooping closed, you make a promise. To both your brother and yourself, you promise that your fight is now over. You can’t imagine continuing on with another pilot – the thought of someone else in your head, poking through your memories, your thoughts and dreams – terrifies you. With your brother, it was different: only nine months apart, you had practically been twins. You’d been at each other’s side for everything, and the thought of piloting a Jaeger with a copilot who wasn’t him, was a task too daunting to imagine. 

So you promise. As your body succumbs to its wounds and your mind fades to darkness, you promise. 

This was the last time you’d ever be in a Jaeger. 

It’s six years later when the Marshall finds you. 

You've been working on-and-off jobs, just trying to make ends meet and keep yourself busy. The work is good. It’s not healthy, but burying yourself in a strenuous job doesn’t leave much time for your brain to relive old memories. For the past year and a half, you’ve been working on the coastal wall. It’s not a job you had planned to ever take, knowing it wouldn’t withstand any Kaiju stronger than a Class Two, but it pays pretty well. The added bonus of manual labor ensures that you’ll be too tired in the evenings to stay awake and lament in past tragedy. 

You’re hauling a bag of powdered cement to the next workplace when you hear the familiar sound of helicopter blades beating against the wind. It’s loud, but not overpowering as the sounds of metal scraping against each other and saw blades whirling fill the atmosphere. You ignore it in favor of finishing your tasks, continuing to lug heavy bags over your shoulder before continuing onto the next job. 

When the final bag hits the floor with an echoing thud, the atmosphere falls quiet. The silence is eerie and unsettling. You’re used to the wall being filled with chatter and boots scuffing against concrete. The sounds of metal being welded and tools rattling come to a stop, a foreboding stillness falling into its place. 

Eyes fall to your form. Workers turn their heads to look at you, their gazes slip away from their tasks in order to settle on you. You ignore them, continuing to adjust your gloves instead. Tightening the straps around your wrists, you fiddle with the thick material. You can feel eyes piercing into your skin, but it’s nothing you’re not used to. Being a Jaeger pilot meant all eyes were on you, a feeling you had hated when you were on active duty. Now, the feeling just irks you. It settles like grime on your skin, and you long to wipe the feeling off to get rid of their leering stares. 

The echo of heavy footsteps is heard behind you. The steps are sharp and dutiful, each step falling in the exact succession as the last. They’re military footsteps, you easily recognize. However, you already had a lingering suspicion when the room fell quiet. You don't look up. Instead, a deep sigh filters through your lungs as you stare directly in front of you. 

“Long time no see, Marshall.” 

Your voice fills the quiet room, echoing through the silence as you greet your former employer. When you turn to face the stoic face of the Marshall, your lips tighten in their blank expression. You greet him with a sharp nod; it’s been years since you’d saluted your former commanding officer, and you’re not sure you’re ready to start again. 

“Officer Red.” 

You stare at each other for a moment, neither speaking a word as the silence in the room becomes uncanny. The workers have not returned to their posts, still watching the two of you in a quiet stand-off. Their gazes are inquisitive and you hate the way it burns into your skin. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve been referred to as your ‘call-sign’. The name ‘Red’ had been tagged to you like an aviator’s call-sign after you and your brother became synonymous with your Jaeger. The Scarlet Dragon had been your namesake, giving you the sort of nickname after the machine’s sanguine red color. 

Eventually, the Marshall’s body turns, inclining his shoulder to motion behind him. His deadpan expression does not change, so neither does yours. 

“May I speak to you for a moment?” Though it’s phrased as a question, you know the Marshall is not asking for permission. He turns on his heel and begins walking back towards the helicopter, knowing there won’t be any prying eyes or inquisitive ears further away. You dutifully follow. You’ve never been one to defy direct orders, even if he’s no longer your commanding officer. 

Your footsteps match in time, the pilot’s mindset never quite leaving your brain. When you exit the wall’s interior, you’re met with a blistering cold. It’s snowing out, thick white flakes clouding the skies outside the overhang you and the Marshall take shelter under. The thick winter coat keeps you warm, but you still sniffle at the change in temperature. 

“With all due respect, Sir -” you begin. “Could this not wait a few more days? You know I’m headed to visit Megumi at base - why come all this way?” 

You know the Marshall is well aware of your near weekly visits. They had to be cleared by his signature, so there’s no reason he would be unaware of your planned stop at your old headquarters. You don’t often go further in the base than the little orphanage housed near the front, but you still visit frequently. The little house positioned not far from the entrance of the secluded base is home to the few orphaned children that live in the Shatterdome. Most are kids from pilots that haven’t survived; they’re taken care of by the medicinal staff on site, and all their needs are provided for. Some get adopted and others don’t, but you still visit weekly to see Megumi. 

The kid’s almost ten now. 

He’d been so young when his parents had died, only a few years old when Toji Fushiguro and his wife’s Jaeger had been destroyed. They’d been close friends of yours - the Fushiguro’s, and their deaths had been a heavy toll in your heart. The incident weighed greatly on your consciousness, leaving you and your brother devastated for months. Toji had been a childhood friend of your family. You and your brother had grown up alongside the burly child, though your brother had always been closer to Toji than you. 

However, it had been you, that Toji had pulled aside after Megumi’s birth. 

He’d muttered grimly under his breath, hands clutching your forearm when he’d made you promise. Toji’s eyes were wary, as if unsure of what he was asking, but he continued nevertheless. He shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor and grunted under his breath. Toji was never good at showing emotions, unlike his wife. Though he persisted, his words spoke in silent volumes as he asked you to take care of Megumi should anything happen to his wife or himself. 

You hadn’t realized the weight of his words then. It had seemed silly since you were all so young - just in your early twenties. However, you agreed, knowing that you would never let anything happen to Megumi should the worse occur. 

When it did happen - the worst, you mean - you and your brother had been shattered. You mourned the loss of your friends, stepping away from piloting for a few weeks to cope with the gaping hole that had been left in your heart. However, you knew you couldn’t grieve for too long – there was someone who needed you more than you needed to mourn. 

While there was still a bleeding wound aching in your chest, Megumi Fushiguro had just lost his parents. It was a blow more devastating than much else - one you and your brother had already experienced. You knew that you had to be there for the kid. He wouldn’t understand yet, being too young to realize that his parents were truly gone, but you followed through on your promise to Toji. 

You looked after Megumi in the following years, becoming his only parental figure aside from your brother. Though he was older than you, your brother became more of a friend for Megumi, rather than a parental figure. You, on the other hand, cared for Megumi like a mother, knowing that he had no one else to lean on. You had not let the higher-ups force the boy into the base’s orphan program at first, insisting that you could care for him on your own. However, after some persuasion from the Marshall, you realized that letting the boy stay at the orphanage did not mean you wouldn’t be his primary caretaker. The Marshall signed off on the order, letting the program know that Megumi was not to be set up for adoption. You expressed wanting to adopt him when he was ready, a sentiment you made clear to Megumi in his later years. 

For now, you resolved with visiting him weekly at the base. When you had the chance, you tried to drop by as often as you could, making your face known to the few other children at the program. For now, Megumi was content with waiting at the base’s orphanage, knowing you didn’t have a stable place to reside just yet. You weren’t ready to take him away from his only friends either, knowing he’d bonded strongly to Itadori Yuuji, another one of the children cared for at the base. 

The Marshall answers your question with a quick shake of his head. His fists are held in front of him in a wide stance, his shoulders set low as he begins to explain. 

“The Jaeger program has been scrapped, Red. Command believes that the Wall is sufficient protection for the future and has revoked funds towards the Jaeger program.” 

You still. 

The coastal wall will not hold as Command believes. You’ve seen footage of Class Three Kaiju tearing through the wall in less than an hour. It will not protect the human population in the future as they believe it will. A sinking feeling forms in your gut. Without the Jaegers, there is little hope for a future without the destruction of the Kaiju. 

“They’ve allowed enough funding to finish the year through, then all Jaeger’s will be decommissioned and the pilots will be dismissed. No further machines will be built.”

You shift on your feet, wringing your hands together in the thick gloves that cover them. A lingering anxiety is beginning to settle in the depths of your stomach.

“So, what does that mean?” You whisper, still not understanding his presence at the wall, nor his urge to speak with you. 

“It means we have enough funding to take one final shot at The Breach.” 

“But, Sir -” you start, stepping forward with a furrow in your eyebrows. 

The Marshall raises a hand to silence your interruption. You fall silent, recognizing the command and knowing you’ve stepped out of line. 

“We need as many pilots as we can get to run an operation like this. Only six Jaeger’s remain, and we have even fewer pilots.” He finishes. In the silence that follows, you recognize why he’s come to the wall. He hasn’t come to inform you of the program’s demolition, nor the dismissal of the pilots – he’s come to ask you to pilot a Jaeger. 

Already shaking your head in disagreement, you step back away from the Marshall. There's twisting in your stomach and a faint ringing in your ears. You can still feel the phantom pain in your left arm, and you rub the shoulder to ease the ache. 

“Sir, I’ve been very clear that I no longer wish to pilot a Jaeger.” Your words are firm and final, offering no room for argument. You’ve had this conversation with the Marshall before. It ended in similar circumstances, with your refusal to enter another machine and the Marshall’s exasperation. 

The Marshall opens his mouth to protest, beginning to offer an argument to persuade you to change your mind, but you cut him off.

“I was still connected to my brother when he died, Marshall.” Your words are heavy and your tone offers some sense of guilt. “In the Drift, I felt everything he did – every glimpse of fear and every wave of pain. I can’t do that again. I can’t let another pilot in my head like that.” 

The Marshall sighs, looking down at his feet. It’s the first time he’s looked away from you since he’d arrived. You know that your brother’s death weighed heavily on his mind too. Your brother had been a good pilot and an even better friend. Nearly everyone on the base had known him, including the Marshall. He feels the same lingering guilt in his chest at the memory of the incident. 

“Officer -” The Marshall begins. “I’m not asking you to come back to pilot – not yet, anyways. I’m asking you to come back to the Shatterdome. If you won’t enter another Jaeger, at least help train the cadets. They could use the knowledge you have.” 

You sigh, looking away from the Marshall again and consider his offer. You know if you return he’ll continue to attempt to persuade you, but it’s not as if he wouldn’t persist regardless. Though you’ve sworn off piloting, helping the new recruits with real combat experience could aid in the operation to take The Breach. 

Besides, the offer to stay closer to Megumi is tempting. 

“Red.” The Marshall’s tense voice fills the silence. “You’re the only pilot to ever survive controlling a Jaeger on your own. We can’t lose that kind of strength.” 

You toe the snow with your boot, mulling the offer over in your head. The smell of the Shatterdome nearly wafts through your senses as you reminisce in memories of the place you once called ‘home.’ While it brings back agonizing memories of those you’ve lost, you also filter through happier memories; those with old friends, sharing dinners and loudly laughing over the cacophony of the cafeteria’s dining area. You muse about the happier times when you and your fellow pilots gathered around small tables to play card games and share stories in the faint light of the Jaegers. 

Looking back up at the Marshall, you take a deep sigh and offer him a tense-lipped, barely-there smile. You pull your arms over your chest, crossing them to rest against you. 

“Alright, Marshall.” You decide. “But I want plenty of time to spend with the kid.” 

He nods, accepting your terms as he lets out a breath of relief. When he sets his shoulders back into a stiff, formal position, there’s a sense of reprieve on his face. It’s as if he had expected to return to the Shatterdome alone. With a roll of your eyes, you tilt your shoulder back towards the entrance to the Wall. The bitter cold is starting to sink under your coat and you ache to return to the interior. 

“Let me pack my things, Marshall.” You finally decide. “I can be ready in fifteen.” 

When you step foot onto the wet concrete of the Shatterdome, it’s as if nothing has changed. The smell of oil and metal fill your senses, and the sounds of gears grinding and engines whirling enter your ears. It fills you with an aura of pure nostalgia that settles over your chest in a blanket of both fond and painful memories. The weight, though heavy on your ribs, is almost comforting. There's so many good memories that have a way of drowning out the mournful ones. 

The rain falls in constant sheets, beating against the black material of your umbrella. Though loud, you find a bit of peace in the thunderous sound. Your addled brain welcomes the white noise as you take in the sights of the Shatterdome. 

Towering walls greet your entrance, the familiar stone unchanged to the whims of time. You and the Marshall enter through the massive doors; they’re meant for Jaegers, the sliding machinery on the floor beneath you indicative of their necessary transportation. Since no Jaeger is being shuttled to battle at the moment, the doors remain open for soldiers to move to and from the Shatterdome. 

Sliding into the elevator in silence, you shut your umbrella and shake off the excess water from its damp sides. Neither you nor the Marshall speak, but you’re grateful for the silence. It’s been years since you’ve entered the main hub of the Shatterdome, only entering the front rooms to visit and take care of Megumi. You had previously feared the rush of agonizing memories that you worried may take hold of your grieving mind. There was an inkling of caution in your gut, a suspicion that if you gave into the grief and visited your old ‘home,’ you would find yourself drowning in a sea of guilt with no anchor to grasp onto. 

Now, the feeling is still there. It sits at the bottom of your gut in a solid lump that continues to twist your intestines in knots. However, it's less profound than you had imagined. While lingering, it doesn’t clog your throat or squeeze your chest tight. There’s a burning in your throat, but you’re able to suppress it. 

There’s a feeling of enduring excitement, one you did not think would reappear when you entered the Shatterdome. While you had ceased the thought of piloting again, being around the Jaegers - around your old home - brought back lively memories. There are flashes of moments between your and your brother, of you and the Fushiguro’s – moments where you were so genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. 

With a sad smile and a burning behind your eyes, you look down at your feet. You can barely resist the urge to cry, sucking in a breath to suppress the tears that push against the back of your eyelids. You’re unsure if they’re tears of grief or tears of happy nostalgia, but you refuse to cry in front of the Marshall. 

He doesn’t appear to be looking at you, for which you are eternally grateful. Shuffling on his feet in the silence, he alerts you of the elevator reaching the main hub. You look up, eyes a little weary, but give him a determined smile nonetheless. The Marshall, ever a stoic man, merely returns the gesture with a slight incline of his head, and you find yourself chuckling under your breath. 

When the elevator thuds against the bottom floor, you regain your steady balance and set your shoulders back with a determined huff. The creaking metal slides open and you’re met with the familiar noise of the hub of the Shatterdome. Carts are moving around, shuffling necessary gear to their proper terminals, and soldiers are striding back and forth. There’s sparks in the air from machinery working against the metal of the Jaegers and the familiar smell of steel in your nose.

It feels like home. 

As much as you wish it wasn’t, the Shatterdome had always been your home. 

Stepping out of the quiet elevator and into the chaos, a small smile graces your features. You inhale deeply and take in the sights of the Jaegers before you. It had been so long since their magnificence caught your eyes. They stand so tall, so daunting to any normal human. To you, they’re beautiful – machines of great capacity and eternal strength. You can almost feel the familiar hum of the Drift under their gaze. 

You shake off the haze. While you still find yourself reveling in your love of the machines, you’re not quite ready to relive the Drift.

In front of you, there’s figures approaching the elevators. They're familiar, tall statures standing out of the crowd of nameless bodies. A wide grin falls onto your lips as your mouth stretches open to greet them.

“Kento! Yu!” 

The familiar pilots of the Black Flash, a Mark-Four Jaeger of incredible speed and strength, smile as they approach you and the Marshall. Both men are tall, the crowds of soldiers parting to let the two pilots through the wake. The Black Flash is the second strongest Jaeger ever created, and the combination of its speed and agility with the intense drift compatibility of Kento Nanami and Yu Haibara makes the Black Flash a formidable opponent. 

However, you simply know the two as old friends. 

The Black Flash was once the Scarlet Dragon’s sideman. The four of you fought valiantly at each other’s side, rebounding off each other’s movements and brainstorming strategies as if it was the four of you connected in the Drift rather than two. 

You held the two men dearly in your heart, the bonds between the three of you was nearly as close as you and your brother. It had been so long since you were able to spend moments in each other’s presence, having been interrupted by both your grief and your departure from the Jaeger Program. 

You drop the formalities, chest aching in a nostalgic glee, and take off towards your old friends. Footsteps colliding with the ground at a rapid pace, you let ecstatic joy propel you towards the two. 

Kento Nanami’s chest huffs a deep laugh when your body collides with his front. The impact is swift and powerful, nearly knocking Nanami off his feet, but he takes a step back to balance the combined weight of both your forms. Haibara laughs heartily at your side, his hand clapping Nanami’s shoulder with a wide smile. Nanami lets his arms wrap around your back in a friendly hug, squeezing tighter when you grasp him just as firmly. 

You huff into his shoulder, overcome with both the joy of reuniting and the ache of separation. A piece of you regrets ever leaving the Shatterdome, You’d left behind good friends and Megumi, the kid you hoped to one day adopt when he was ready. However, you knew the separation had been good for you. There were too many painful memories in the Jaeger base to keep your grieving mind from recovering. 

Nanami squeezes your form tight once more before you shift to hug Haibara. Your embrace with the darker haired man is just as firm, the two of you swaying in good natured joy as you hold each other tight. 

“We’ve missed you, Red.” The warm tone of Haibara greets your ears. He mumbles the words just loud enough for you and Nanami to hear. When he lets you go, you smile happily at him with the weight in your stomach beginning to lift. 

“God - I’ve missed you guys too.” There’s a hint of regret in your voice, the tone low and weary. You shuffle in between the two men, happy to be back at their side. 

“You look good, Kid,” Nanami mumbles as he scans your figure. You had dug up the old uniform from years back, the material not too worn as it rubs against your skin. It feels nice to wear the suit once more. 

You nudge Nanami with your hip with a giggle. “I told you not to call me that! I’m older than you, Kento.” 

The blonde lets another soft chuckle fall from his lips, looking down at you as you laugh. He’s happy to see the smile on your features once more. When you’d left all those years ago, there had been nothing but cold-faced grief on your face. It brings a twist in his stomach to see the glee again. 

The name had been one he’d picked up from your brother. Despite being a year younger than you, Nanami had always been the responsible one between you and your little quartet of chaos. Your brother had followed in the leadership role after Kento, despite being the oldest of you four. He had always taken to calling you ‘Kiddo,’ a name that Nanami soon picked up after years of fighting alongside you. While you were still older than him, Nanami nearly always acted older than you, taking a more responsible stance than you and Haibara. The nickname ‘Kid’ seemed to fall too naturally from his lips.

“You been taking good care of my kid while I was gone, Kento?” 

Nanami nods in reference to Megumi. Since you were not living at the base and could only visit so often, Nanami had taken over caring for Megumi when you weren’t available. It wasn’t difficult, seeing as Nanami was usually visiting the orphanage for a certain pink-haired bundle of joy anyway. You were ecstatic when Megumi and Yuuji got along well, so happy that your future son got along well with Nanami’s future kid. 

The two of you planned to adopt the respective boys as soon as you were able. It was taking a little longer than expected, seeing as Nanami was still a pilot and you were out of commission for a while, but you still dreamed of being able to care for the dark haired boy as your own. 

Nanami nods, his glasses glinting in the light of the jaegers as he moves. “Gojo-san and Geto-san have been helping too.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

The mention of the two pilots has you frazzled. You never got along well with the pair, always rivaling them in training. Neither of them were very close to you or your brother, just competing against each other in passing, but you never took well to their cocky attitude and over-confidence in battle. While you didn’t necessarily despise either of them, you were still quite unsure of your feelings for either pilot. 

You had heard their Jaeger, Limitless, had skyrocketed in fame after your departure from the program. Their Mark-4 Jaeger was incredibly strong. It was propelled by the strongest drift compatibility ever seen. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru had an incredible closeness that launched their drift compatibility to unknown heights. They seemed to be able to read each other’s minds even without the Drift connecting them. Their Jaeger was by far the strongest the program had ever seen. Like Toji and his wife, Gojo and Geto were connected by more than the Drift – having been together since the moment you met them. 

Lips turning downward in a frown as you think of their daring grins, you grimly reply. “What do they want with Megumi?” 

“Nothing, Red -” Nanami responds. “They’ve just taken to the kid. He’s got a good heart, you know?” 

The mention of Megumi has the frown on your lips drifting away, instead a warm smile taking its place. While he wasn't a very emotional kid, often keeping a neutral face and keeping his voice monotone, Megumi had a big heart. He always made sure to make the other kids feel welcome, and even was the first to reach out to Yuuji when he’d been brought to the orphanage. 

“Yeah,” you sigh. There’s a warmth in your eyes when you speak of the boy, something Nanami has noticed. “He’s a really good kid.” 

Haibara laughs, swinging his arm over your shoulder as he nudges you towards a direction over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” 

At his words, your head whips upward and over your shoulder. A few yards away, stands a little boy with ruffled black hair and dark eyes. While his features are settled into a sort of blank look, there's a shine in his eyes when he sets them on you. His little body seems to almost jerk upwards as he realizes who has entered the base. With his mouth falling open and eyes widening, he cries out. 

“Okaasan!” 

Your heart stutters in your chest and you inhale a sharp breath as your feet begin to move towards Megumi. He’s always taken to referring to you in a more formal manner, something you never minded. It still seemed to warm your heart and squeeze a lump in your throat when he still referred to you as his mother. You hadn’t really expected it. Megumi wasn’t one to refer to people as such, always speaking with good manners and calling others by their last names with the proper formality attached. When he first referred to you as his mother, you think you nearly cried. Knowing that he treasured you as his mother despite everything that happened was a gift you would never take for granted.

“Gumi!” 

You drop to your knees when you’re close enough, allowing Megumi’s little body to crash into your chest. He looks so much like Toji. The features of your old friend bring a sense of warmth to your chest as you hug Megumi tight. You laugh with tears stinging in your eyes as you wrap your arms around his small form. Though he's almost ten, Megumi will always be a young boy in your eyes. He’s growing everyday, but you still feel the same sense of motherly affection when you see his face. 

“Hey, Bub,” you mumble sweetly. “How are you feeling? Did ya’ miss me?” 

Megumi nods against your chest, hair rubbing at your collarbone. There’s a little grin on his lips, one that many don’t often get to see, and it causes you to let out a little giggle. He squirms slightly when you squeeze him tight, always a little shy when it comes to affection. Megumi buries his face in your neck and a watery smile forms on your lips when you feel him mumble a little affirmation into your skin. 

You grin again, hoisting the boy onto your hip as you stand. Megumi clutches your neck, legs hanging over your sides as you carry him. His expression is blank again, but you can see the little hints of joy in his features. His lips are curled just the slightest and his cheeks and eyes are relaxed. You bring your face closer to the boy, bumping your foreheads together with a giggle. Megumi pushes a little hand against your cheeks, whining a little when you rub your foreheads back and forth. While he’s still bashful when it comes to affection, you treasure every touch that Megumi allows. 

Nanami and Haibara follow behind you, with the Marshall allowing them to show you towards your bunker. There’s soft smiles on both their lips, savoring the sight of you and your nearly-adopted son. The sight is familiar to them, one that used to be commonplace before you left. While you still frequently came back to visit Megumi, neither man had seen the welcome sight of the two of you together in a long while. 

“What are you doing here, Fushiguro?” Nanami questions. His voice isn’t angry, only curious as to why the younger boy had been wandering the main hub. It was quite the distance from the upper level orphanage, and even though Megumi had grown up on base, wandering around was still a little dangerous. 

“I heard Okaasan was coming home today,” he mumbles quietly into your neck. You bounce a little from side to side as you squeeze the boy tight, heart singing with a glee that you seldom experience without Megumi by your side. 

Haibara ruffles Megumi’s hair with another laugh, turning back to Nanami as the three of you laugh amongst yourselves. Your conversation is only interrupted when the alarm sound of a Jaeger being transported echoes through the hub. Gears start to grind as the Shatterdome’s transport system comes alive. Jaegers are transported on moving platforms as soon as they dock, the massive machinery moving the Jaegers slowly and steadily back to their designated hangers. 

When you turn towards the opening doors, the wind whips from outside as the hulking, dark form of Limitless becomes apparent. You clutch Megumi closer to your front, shielding his smaller body from the cold that sweeps into the indoor hub. As soon as the Jaeger’s feet lock into place, it begins to shut down, allowing Main Control to disconnect the pilots and take over for docking. 

You don’t tear your eyes away from Limitless’ massive build. You clench your jaw as the sounds of the two pilots begin making their way down to the deck. Apparently, some press had forced their way on site; their camera drones hovering over the Jaeger’s body and whirring in the air. Cameras begin to flash as Gojo and Geto emerge from the transport elevator that connected them to the cockpit. 

A rush of noise fills the hub as reporters begin shouting questions at the two pilots, and your lips draw back in a sneer as the two smirk and give the cameras cocky looks. You despise pilots who fight for fame. A sinking feeling of animosity lingers in your stomach as you watch Geto and Gojo answer questions and boast yet another Kaiju kill to the crowd. Turning away from the shouting, you look back at Nanami and Haibara, tilting your head towards the bunkers. 

“Do you want to help me get settled in?”

Haibara nods, his gentle smile still lingering though he senses your unease. He and Nanami turn to make their way out of the hanger, feet twisting to move when a shout is heard from behind. Both men stop in their tracks, turning back to look at you, as if asking for your next move before proceeding. You sigh deeply, clutching Megumi tighter as he buries his head in your neck. He isn’t a big fan of the flashing lights that come with the crowds of reporters – something you’re very aware of. 

“Hey, Sunshine!” The call comes from an all too familiar voice, one that you weren’t particularly excited to hear. 

You whip your head over your shoulder, barely looking back at the two approaching pilots. Still wary of the journalists who begin to edge closer, you shoot a glare at the cameras. You despise being filmed by the media, especially after they pressed and crowded you after your brother’s death. They should know better than to approach, which it seems like they do. With a grunt you finally look back at Gojo, the white-haired pilot being the one to call out for you. 

“What do you want, Six Eyes?” 

Gojo doesn’t seem perturbed by the mutter of his call-sign, simply sticking his hands in his pockets and continuing to saunter over to you. Geto trails behind him, a similar sort of smirk on his lips. You often forget how similar they are. Though Geto hides it better, they’re both menaces in their own way. The two pilots amble towards you, an aura of confidence exuding from their forms. 

“Here to reclaim your title?” Gojo questions, a grin falling too easily onto his features. His question furthers the ache in your gut, and you hoist Megumi farther up onto your hip. You shift him to face away from the pair, not wanting the boy to be involved. 

“I’m afraid it might be a little difficult,” Geto continues, finishing his partner’s question. “Seeing as the Scarlet Dragon is out of commission, of course.” 

You barely conceal a wince at the mention of your Jaeger. You can’t tell if he meant to jeer at your dead co-pilot, but the slightest edge in his voice still causes your body to shake in a scarcely hidden rage. Huffing out a deep sigh over the lump in your throat, you lean your head against Megumi when he tries to comfort you with a little squeeze. He likely can’t understand the conversation, but he probably senses your rising anger. Your heart throbs at his touching comfort, letting your forehead bump his before you turn to address Gojo and Geto.

“I couldn’t care less about your kill count, Stitches.” The words come out in a grunt, the tone clipped with a hint of anger. “I’m not here to pilot.” 

“Then what are you here for?” Gojo questions, his hands crossing over his chest. His head is held high, and you hate the aura of superiority he’s protecting. “Last I checked, this program has no place for washed up pilots who got a little scared.” 

You freeze. 

The pit in your stomach is turning over itself in rage. Your skin is hot and the hairs stand on end. Barely able to repress the angry words you ache to spit back at the white-haired pilot, you instead fix your eyes in a cold glare. Face dropping to a blank, unnerving look, your lids shrink into a bitter look. 

From behind Gojo, Geto lays a hand on his lover’s shoulder. He squeezes firmly, a sinking feeling in his gut erupting. You’ve gone too far, his knowing look says. Gojo doesn’t turn to face him, but Geto knows he understood, their bond too deep to miss the silent comment. 

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You spit, pressing Megumi’s head back into your neck with the other hand to shield his ears from the words. You’re already turning to make your way back down the hall, the silence of the hub now seeming too loud. “That’s low, even for you.”

You don’t stick around to hear either man’s response, already shuffling away with Megumi now clinging to your front. Nanami and Haibara send blank looks over their shoulders, flanking either of your sides as the three of you begin to exit the quiet room. 

“I won’t have them belittle me in front of my kid,” you mutter as you walk away. Geto doesn’t think he was meant to hear the words, but the twisting in his gut intensifies when he does. He rubs his hand down Gojo’s back with a rough sigh. 

From over your shoulder, Megumi’s little head peeks out from over your shoulder. His dark hair ruffles against the wind from the still-opened bay doors, and his deep blue eyes look back at Gojo with a glimpse of sadness in his pupils. Gojo can’t seem to maintain eye contact with Megumi, a twisting feeling of guilt turning in his stomach. He looks down at his feet quickly, before turning to look at Suguru. 

The dark-haired man seems to give Gojo a similar look, one of a guilty sadness that only his lover could decipher. Both men keep their emotions hidden well. They’re too aware of the clicking of cameras behind them, instead choosing to communicate in the silent way they know best. Gojo shrugs off the sinking feeling, sighing deeply and turning back to the cameras with a practiced smile.

“Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath towards Geto. “You know how they make me.” He offers a flick of his hand towards the reporters, the clicking of their cameras echoing through the silence. His gesture is vague, looking like a wave, Gojo’s moves practiced so that the camera cannot differentiate the angry undertone that Gojo wants to project. 

“S’alright, ‘Toru,” Geto mutters back, his words hidden as he speaks from behind Gojo’s back. “But it’s not me you should apologize to.” 

Gojo nods silently, resisting a glance behind him. 

Behind the pair, your form disappears behind the elevator doors. With tears barely concealed, you press your face back into Megumi’s hair, letting his little body squeeze you tight as Haibara rubs a hand across your shoulders. 

Sniffling a little, you pull back to give Megumi a watery smile. Memories of your brother and your last mission are hard to hide away, but you manage as you keep looking down at Megumi’s bright eyes. You don’t want to give Gojo and Geto the satisfaction of shaking you. 

“Hey, Bud.” You whisper the words quietly, managing to muster a slightly cheerful tone. “You want to sleep in my room tonight?”

Nanami and Haibara muffle their chuckles as Megumi nods his head fervently in response to your question. You giggle, placing a kiss on Megumi’s dark hair despite his protests. Away from the chaos, the four of you manage an atmosphere of quiet happiness that you’ll never fail to miss. You savor their peace, looking back up at your old friends with watery eyes and a sad smile. Haibara leans into Nanami, the three of you happy to savor your friends once more.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell Gojo and Geto are trying to speak to you. Every time you stumble into the cafeteria area of the main hub, Megumi by your side - like always, both pilots perk up at your entrance. Gojo is usually the first to stand, stepping out from the table he’s seated at with his lips pressed into a gentle sort of smile. His eyes are covered, something he’s done since you’d met him, whether by dark glasses or a blindfold. You don’t know how he sees when the white cloth covers his eyes, but you’ve never had the opportunity to ask. 

When Gojo shifts to make his way towards you, Nanami is typically the one to step in. He shifts, covering your form with his own so Gojo can’t see you. Haibara takes up your other side, chatting easily with you and making silly faces at Megumi to make the shy boy giggle and hide his face in your leg. Haibara doesn’t take any insult to Megumi’s shy, blank-faced behavior, used to the boy’s mannerisms. You’re grateful to both him and Nanami for their seemingly never ending patience. 

Later in the afternoon, when you’re headed to watch over a class of cadets, you catch Geto’s dark eyes from the other end of the hall. They’re softened, as if there’s some lingering ache he wishes to soothe, but you ignore it. Despite how kind he looks, with gentle eyes and a soft smile, you turn quickly into your designated training space, letting the door fall shut behind you. 

Over time, you find yourself noticing the two more and more. When there’s no reporters around, Gojo and Geto seem more easy going. Gojo, still as energetic as ever, slings his arm over Geto’s shoulders and whines something that you can’t hear. The teasing frown on his face is silly, and you turn away to muffle a giggle when Geto shoves his head away with a jesting smile and a roll of his eyes. Gojo’s whines increase in volume as his lover gently shoves him away with a laugh, but they quickly cease when Geto nudges him with his elbow and presses a quick kiss to Gojo’s head. 

It’s quick. You almost miss the subtle movement of Geto’s lips against Gojo’s skin, as though you weren't meant to see it. Their affection for each other is subtle, as if they don’t like when the gaggle of media outlets catch their subtle touches. You sort of understand it, your own hatred for the flashing cameras may make you biased, but you understand the avoidance. Perhaps they don’t want their relationship in the limelight, something you have to give them credit for. 

Despite all the confident smirks and easy remarks they hand out to reporters, it seems the two pilots hide a similar distaste for the media as you do. 

However, you’re still not ready to speak with either of them quite yet. The twisted knots of anger still sit in your stomach in reference to the stab Gojo had taken on your first day back. Though, with each passing day, you begin to wonder if the enduring rage is focused at the two pilots, or if it settles into your gut next to the guilt that still lingers after losing your brother. 

Either way, you know you’ll have to speak to them soon. Nanami and Haibara can only keep them away for so long. 

It’s at a routine training session when you see them next. A few days a week, you take charge of a group of cadets and pair them against each other. In one of the Shatterdome’s practice halls, mats are laid out so that the hardened concrete floor doesn’t hurt anyone. In this room, your chosen pairs fight against each other, sometimes bare-fisted and sometimes with wooden staffs. As they battle against each other, in a match to seven points, you gauge their drift compatibility. 

Each time a pair takes the floor, you watch each movement. You mark notes on the clipboard in your hands, writing down remarks of battle strategies and techniques of each cadet. You compare compatibility against other cadets, lining them up with their next partner to see if they’d make a better match than the previous. 

As the next opponent gets thrown to the floor, a wooden staff at his head, you dryly call the match. “4 points to 3.”

Scribbling down your notes with a frown, you go through the list of cadets you’ve been tasked to train. There’s both negative and positive feedback, however, more improvements have been listed than anything else. 

“What’s your problem?” 

Your head shoots up at the angry voice. One of the cadets from the previous match stands at the head of the mat, his lips pulled back in an enraged look. He scans your form, stiff in the pilot’s uniform despite your status as a Captain. Your posture is formal, keeping your head held high and feet shoulder width apart. 

You know both Geto and Gojo have been watching. Their forms linger at the back of the room, eyes scanning each match as you do. You allow them to stay, not wanting to call them out in front of all the soldiers. You find that you honestly don’t mind their presence that much. They’re both quiet, eyes flicking back and forth from the match to you. You manage to keep yourself calm under their gaze, a little perturbed at the hopeful feeling that washes over you knowing that they’re still waiting for you. 

At the kid’s voice, Geto stands straighter. His eyebrows furrow and his lips turn downward into a frown. His black hair is tied back into its usual bun, a few strands peeking out from his bangs. They shift when he stands upright, leaning into Gojo’s side to murmur something that you don’t catch.

“Excuse me, Cadet?” Your voice is clipped, eyes scanning his form. He addressed you out of order, his panting form seeming angry despite his win in the previous match. 

“Every time a match ends, you make this face - like you’re disappointed in the outcome,” the cadet grunts. One end of the wooden staff he’d been using is placed against the ground, his body leaning onto it for stability. 

You tilt your head, scribbling down another piece of information before you look back at the kid with a blank expression. “I am disappointed. The match could have ended three moves previously.” 

The kid huffs out an irate sound, shifting on his feet. “How do you know?” 

“His weight was forced onto his non-dominant side. You had the upper-hand, yet you failed to knock him off balance when you struck his chest rather than delivering a blow that would force him to fall.” 

Your explanation only seems to anger the cadet. He steps forward, lips pursed and eyebrows pulled together in rage. He nearly snarls as he approaches you, but you’re not intimidated. Silence has fallen over the room, the other cadets watching closely as the boy attempts to make his way towards you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Geto move from his place against the wall. He steps forward, stomach twisting when Gojo lays a hand on his chest. Neither man has taken their eyes off you, keenly watching your body for any command that you may need help. Gojo knows you’re strong – especially after the conversation you’d had. He knows that you’d ask for help if you need it. Though his stomach twists too, wanting to knock the kid away from you and soothe your anger, Gojo knows that you can handle yourself.

“You think you can do better?” The cadet snarls, almost at your feet. You haven’t moved, stance still formal and head held high. This kid doesn’t intimidate you, even if he was taller or broader than you. Refusing to move, you lock eyes with the boy, pressing him with a blank look and dead eyes. 

“That’s enough, Cadet.” You command, voice sharp. “I am your Captain, and you will address me as such.”

Not backing down, the cadet continues to advance. Geto nearly moves to step forward once more when the kid speaks again. 

“Why are you holding back then, Captain?” He sneers the words in a cocky tone. “You scared or something? You must be some kind of coward, then – it’s probably what got your brother kill -” 

His words are cut off by the sharp point of your hand jabbing roughly into his kidney. Your movements were so quick, even Gojo missed them. When the cadet doubles over his stomach, one hand clutching the area where you’d punched him, you pull the staff out of his other limp hand. It comes free quickly, your hands sliding over the material with practiced ease. Before the cadet can move, you pull the end of the staff upwards, knocking the dull end under his chin with a resounding thud. 

He cries out, the contact of the staff against his skin likely ringing through his head. As he does so, you’ve already dropped low, spinning with your feet and swiping the end of the staff under the cadet. With his balance interrupted, he falls to the ground with a dull thump, body hitting the floor as he wheezes for breath. 

You’d laugh if the contemptuous anger wasn't sitting in your throat. He’d gone down so easily, just as you’d explained, yet he failed to see the error in his tactic. 

You step forward, feet brushing the clipboard you dropped. Standing over the boy, you point the dull end of the staff under his chin. The silence in the room is loud, the other cadet’s seem to hold their breath as you frown. With his chest heaving and his chin pointed upwards away from your threatening staff, the boy’s eyes shake. 

With the cold glare still in your eyes, you snarl down at the kid, “Don’t ever speak my brother’s name again. Do you hear me, Cadet?”

At your feet, the kid seems to shake. He’s challenged a direct order from his Captain, something he’s just realized. You’d knocked him on his ass for it too. Eyeing his form up and down with a pitiful curl of your lip, you huff with distaste. 

“Next time you step out of line, I’ll drop your ass like a sack of Kaiju shit. Do you understand?” 

Nodding fervently again, the boy’s chest shakes as he pants. He’s still clutching his chin, eyes wide in comparison to his previous anger. You press the end of your staff into his chest with your eyes fixed on him.

“I said - do you understand, Cadet?” 

“Yes, Captain.” He mutters quickly, shifting his eyes to avoid your angry gaze. 

“Good. Now get out of my sight,” you command. The boy scrambles up, nearly tripping when he tries to run towards the exit of the training room. 

Gojo muffles a laugh under his breath, hiding his smile behind his hand as he does so. The ache in his gut vanishes, and in its place lies newfound warmth. The white haired pilot feels his stomach turn, but this time it’s not in anger or guilt. With your body movements so agile and your words so commanding, Gojo feels a twinge of heat in his stomach. The way you take charge of everyone in the room, standing tall and holding your head high is enchanting. Gojo finds himself looking at you even long after you’ve turned away. 

Geto is no different. Despite the sultry look he sends Gojo in a good-natured tease, Geto too feels the lingering arousal in his gut. When you turn to face the rest of the cadets with the faintest smirk on your lips, Suguru swears he can feel his pants tighten in the slightest. 

“Next two cadets, step forward.” You gesture to the training mats, tossing the wooden staff in your hands towards the oncoming soldier. When he catches it, you nod firmly and turn to pick up the clipboard you had dropped. 

Standing up and regaining your formal stance, you peek a glance at your two onlookers. Gojo and Geto are leaning against each other in the back of the room, mumbling something between themselves. There’s a smirk pulled onto Geto’s lips, something you’ve grown used to seeing. It doesn’t spark the same rage it used to, now only bringing you confusion. You’re unsure of your quickly changing feelings for the two pilots, and you don’t necessarily have time to decipher them for now. 

When Geto looks up, he meets your eyes. His smirk changes to something a little more gentle, and he nods his head softly in question. Though this silent language is something you often see passing between him and Gojo, you seem to be able to decipher it quickly. You okay? The nod seems to ask. 

You return his gesture with one of your own, watching as the two exchange another look before turning to make their way out of the training room. You don’t know why the ache in your chest sings when they leave. 

As the door falls shut behind him, Geto is already moving to hang off his lover. Resting his weight onto Satoru’s back, Suguru throws an arm over his partner. Laughing under his breath, Suguru pokes his finger into Satoru’s ribs. 

“You thought that was hot, didn’t you?” Suguru’s voice is teasing, another sultry smirk pulled onto his lips as he addresses Satoru. He’s not angry. God - Suguru could never be disgruntled when it’s apparent that he feels the same way. The ache in his gut is the same for Suguru as it is for Satoru. They’re aligned in more ways than one - always have been. 

“I did not!” Satoru groans as he shoves his lover off. Though his voice is whiny, Satoru’s reply is lighthearted. His tone is bright and there's a faint pinkish tint to his ears, a clear sign he’s growing embarrassed. This side of Satoru is one even Suguru doesn’t often see. Though he tries to pull it out of him, more often than not, Satoru is typically very composed. While his childish demeanor may appear otherwise, deep underneath, Gojo Satoru is usually in control. 

Though Suguru loves to be the one to grace the tips of Satoru’s ears in that faint pink, he decides he loves it all the same when it’s you that brings the blush to his lover’s features. 

“You did!” Suguru teases, moving back to lean against Satoru again. Behind closed doors, the two are incredibly touch starved, usually leaning onto each other or just linking fingers whenever possible. “S’alright, ‘Toru - I’d let her ruin me too.” 

Satoru’s gaze shifts back to his partner, letting his weight fall onto Suguru’s as he sighs. 

“And what if I want to be the one to ruin her?” His voice is sultry, the tip of his head tilting to look down at Suguru in a dangerously suggestive manner. His lover returns the salacious gaze, licking his lips as he leans closer to Satoru. 

“Then I guess we’ll have to take turns.” 

A few hours later, after your class has long finished, you find yourself climbing the high rising platforms that scale Limitless. The Jaeger is undergoing routine maintenance, something that occurs after every fight in order to ensure its systems all run perfectly. Since it’s positioned in the center of the other hangers, you have taken to climbing the supports for other mechanics after hours. 

Letting your feet dangle over the edge of the metal platform, you sit and face Limitless in all its glory. It’s technically the first Mark-4 Jaeger you’ve ever seen. The Scarlet Dragon had been the last of her kind, a nuclear powered Mark-3 Jaeger of uncanny ability. Geto and Gojo’s Jaeger was created a little while later, allowing the technology to boost their new machinery into Mark-4 capabilities. 

You admire the engine as it softly whirs, letting Main Control run tests late into the night. Inhaling deeply, you savor in the scent of salt air from the ocean coupled with the metallic smell from the Jaegers. The calming scent does wonders for your addled brain.  

After the incident during training, you found yourself stewing in some existential guilt. It took a long time to work yourself out of the guilty episode that haunted over your head, but the night air seemed to help. Now, you sit and watch the mechanics tinker, allowing the repetitive motions of their work drown out the turmoil in your head. Rubbing your fingers together, you begin picking at your cuticles once more: a habit you could never break. 

Over your shoulder, the sound of metal clanging reaches your ears as someone climbs up the high-rise platform behind you. You don’t speak, simply allowing them to join you, despite your mind being elsewhere. Too lost in memories, focusing on the events of the past and trying to determine if you really were a coward, you don’t hear Geto and Gojo climb onto the metallic terrace.

You’re broken from your trance when there are two forms settled on either side of you. They’re quiet for a moment, letting the clicking of tools and the humming of Limitless’ engine fill the space instead. It’s nice, you decide; sitting beside the two pilots is comforting in a way you can’t understand. 

“You alright, Pretty?” It’s Geto’s voice. The deep timber is unmistakable as it sends faint shivers down your spine. He’s looking at you, his eyes scanning your face and attempting to gauge your feelings. In your turmoil, you miss the nickname, one that would have sent your heart into stuttered beats and your stomach in knots, if you were paying attention. 

On your other side, Gojo is staring out at his Jaeger. He appears to be mulling something over in his head, though you can never be quite sure with the blindfold covering his eyes. 

You nod, a little numbly. It’s difficult to explain. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling, but there’s too much of it. You don’t know how to explain that to either man, simply letting out a little hum. There's a tightness in your chest that you can’t describe and your stomach feels heavy. Geto seems to understand, shifting a little closer. 

After another beat of silence, it’s Gojo who speaks. 

“I’m sorry, by the way,” he starts, still mulling over his words as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

You know he’s referencing your first meeting weeks ago. Nodding, you finally turn to look at him. Gojo’s upper body shifts to face you, and despite his eyes obscured by the blindfold, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Gojo look so sincere. His lips are softened into a gentle smile and his shoulders are relaxed, a position you’ve only seen him express under the presence of his lover. When you don’t respond, Gojo continues speaking. 

“I get a little heated with all the reporters hanging around, and I pushed you too far. I’m sorry.” His words are precise and to the point, something you greatly appreciate in communication. Though you often have a little trouble expressing your own feelings, Gojo seems fairly adept at ensuring that you understand his own. You appreciate his concern, finally breaking free of your haze for another moment and gracing him with a gentle smile.

Gojo returns your soft smile, a tumble of butterflies in his stomach erupting into a flutter when he takes in your sweet look. From behind him, Geto’s shoulders soften as he leans forward. His eyes curl into a loving grin, his own chest singing with quickened pulses as he watches his lover interact with you. It’s one of the first conversations the three of you have had without some sort of lingering anger. Geto savors in the peaceful aura that settles over the three of you. 

It appears you have judged Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru too quickly. 

While they can both be complete menaces, they also have a deeper, calmer demeanor that shines so brightly when they’re alone. Both Geto and Gojo went out of their way to ensure that you were alright after training today, even mentioning the incident to the Marshall. After ensuring your well-being, the Marshall had the cadet shifted to another training schedule, a much more rigorous training meant for lower cadets. The notion made you stifle a smile when the Marshall had forwarded the news. 

Gojo, while sometimes silly and overdramatic, was nothing short of incredibly caring. You’d heard from Nanami that he’d been sneaking in treats for Megumi and Itadori whenever he could, a sentiment that warmed your heart. Geto too, got along well with the kids. You’ve often seen Itadori rush towards him whenever he was out with Nanami. Geto’s strong arms hoisted up the toddler, lifting him onto his broad shoulders as he conversed with Nanami and Haibara. You lingered in the doorway, unsure if any of them had seen you. Savoring the pleasant environment, you watched Gojo crouch to greet Megumi, who Nanami had picked up alongside his own son. Megumi, ever the ‘emotionless’ child, pushed past Gojo’s wiggling fingers as he asked for a hug.

You giggled under your breath as Gojo whined about wanting a hug, but you later watched Megumi climb into Gojo’s lap when they were eating. 

“I think -” you hesitate, as if still trying to decide what to say. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 

Geto chuckles, turning his head back to Limitless as the three of you smile. “Yeah, I think so too.” 

Gojo nods along, his own lips stretched into a gentle grin. 

“Do you think -” you try, attempting to word the question you’re trying to ask. The words fall flat on your tongue as you try to speak them, but Gojo picks up where you left off.

“Would you be alright with starting over?” 

With a happy sigh, you nod your head fervently. Eyes wide, but happy, you look back at Gojo with a determined grin. Geto laughs again, agreeing with a warm look in his eyes.

After a beat of silence, the three of you burst into giggles, feeling a little silly for a moment. Your body relaxes, letting the anxiety melt off your shoulders as you sink in the comforting presence of Geto and Gojo. The storming sea that tormented your mind begins to melt away, sunshine peeking out from the clouds as you finally grasp onto an anchor to hold your ship steady. 

When you finally quiet into another beat of silence, there’s a warm hum under your skin. It makes your skin hot, but it’s a pleasant heat so you don’t mind. It melts away the icy cold that once had a tight grip on your chest. 

In front of you, Limitless’ chest plate is being removed, the core exposed as the three of you marvel over the engineering that maintains the Jaeger. It’s magnificent, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. You can remember why you wanted to become a pilot in the first place as the awe of the Jaeger’s core never ceases to amaze you. 

With a warm sigh, Gojo mumbles under his breath, “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

You nod, not taking your eyes off Limitless. 

Next to you, you’re completely unaware of Gojo’s eyes on your face rather than his Jaeger. His question honestly hadn’t even been addressing you, but rather Geto. On your other side, Geto’s eyes glaze over with a warm, loving look as his sight focuses on you and his lover. 

Neither man is looking at Limitless. 

Instead they’re transfixed on your form as you revel in the beauty of the Jaegers. 

As Geto hums in response to his lover’s question, both men know that Gojo was not referring to the Jaeger, but rather you: the shine of your eyes glistening in the glow Limitless’ core and your soft lips pulled into a sweet smile. 

You get a month of your newfound, growing relationship with Geto and Gojo when everything goes to shit. 

Awoken by the shrilling alarm, you quickly slide off your bed and shuffle towards Megumi’s. Since you’d established a more permanent residence on base, the orphanage had allowed him to sleep in your bunker most nights, something you cherished deeply. 

Hushing him gently as he rouses from his sleep in a panic, you hoist his drowsy form into your arms. You sway on your feet, brushing your fingers through Megumi’s hair as he whines, sleepily. Rubbing the fog out of your eyes, you pull the handle by your door that silences the alarm.

“M’sorry, Bub,” you whisper. Pressing a soft kiss to Megumi’s forehead, you continue to sway gently to send him back to sleep. He’s far too grown for this sort of treatment now, but you can’t help but baby him sometimes. You don’t get many chances, so you savor in the feeling when he allows it. 

“Go back to sleep, ‘Gumi. S’just a warning alarm for pilots.” 

He hums against your neck, grasping your shirt in his fists as he quickly falls back into a slumber. You’re jealous of his ability to knock out so quickly, humming as you settle him back into his bed. 

When Megumi is settled, you glance back at the red screen in the middle of the room. Scanning the contents of the alarm, your stomach seizes tight. You bring a hand to cover your mouth as you gnaw on the tip of your finger.

A Category Four Kaiju is headed towards the coastline, only about twenty miles from the Shatterdome. It hasn’t reached the land yet, but left unchecked, it will soon. It’s the first Category Four Kaiju in years, the last being - well, you can’t finish your thought. 

You nibble on the tip of your finger as you scan the list of pilot names that is being dispatched. A sinking feeling begins to form as you read both Limitless and Black Flash as two of the appointed Jaegers. Your breath catches in your throat and your other hand comes up to fiddle with the front of your shirt. Shifting back and forth on your feet, your mind races as you debate your next move. 

If you head to Main Control, you’re unsure if they’ll allow you to stay. While you may be a Captain, the Marshall is very particular about those who are allowed inside the Command Deck during operation. You’re not sure you’ll be any help either. With the anxious pit in your stomach growing, you'll likely be unable to provide much aid to the battle strategists nor systems control. Both Limitless and Black Flash are likely already prepped for dispatch at this point. The pilots will be in their drive-suits, hair-thin needles sliding into their spine as they connect to the framework of their Jaegers. Drift commenced, both teams are probably headed out of the Shatterdome. 

You continue shifting, trying to resist pacing along the concrete floors of your bunker so that you don’t wake Megumi. With a sigh and a glance back at your son, lip still gnawing at the skin of your fingers. You have another training session in three hours. There won’t be much you can do until then, though you know the anxiety in your stomach will keep you awake. There's no use trying to fall back asleep now. 

Climbing into Megumi’s bed, you slide your body behind the little boy. He mumbles something in his sleep and turns over, sensing your shift. With his dark eyes barely blinking open and his lips tucked into a sweet, sleepy pout, Megumi crawls forward into your lap. You lean back against the wall behind you, legs laid out in front of you so that Megumi can settle between them. 

Knocking your head back, you gently hit the concrete wall with your skull. Letting the cool material distract you, you brush your fingers through Megumi’s hair. When Megumi lets out a little huff, a sign he’s comfortable, you smile gently despite the tight grip of worry in your chest.

Closing your eyes, all you can do is wait for the pilots to return. You refuse to scan through tabloids, not wanting the constant updates to twist your stomach in nausea. You allow a sense of anxious calm to settle over the room, sitting and waiting for the hours to dwindle away on their own.

When three hours finally pass, the silent ticking echoing through the room and splitting the quiet atmosphere, you slide out of Megumi’s bed and hoist him up into your arms once more. Meandering through your morning tasks, you get both you and Megumi ready for the day. You shuffle into your uniform and zip the suit up to your neck, adjusting the fit as you do so. 

After ensuring Megumi was alright, you swing by the orphanage. Crouching down beside your son, you allow yourself a little giggle when an energetic ball of pink fluff comes barreling your way. 

“Fushiguro! Red-san!” 

Megumi, knowing his best friend’s routine, steps aside just as Itadori Yuuji reaches the two of you. Yuuji crashes into your chest, a movement you had expected. With your arms open wide, you smile as the pink-haired boy grasps hold of you. Despite seeing him just yesterday, it warms your heart that Yuuji still exudes the same excitement each and every time he sees you and Megumi. 

“Hello, Yuuji-kun!” You mumble warmly as he squeezes you tight. Bent at the knee and crouched low, Yuuji is able to wrap his arms around your upper body to hug you tight. You squeeze back just as firm, allowing the little boy to pull away when he’s ready. 

When he does, there’s a vibrant smile on his cheeks, one that radiates happiness throughout the room. You wonder how anyone could resist his sweet smile, knowing even Megumi fell for his kind demeanor and ecstatic grin. 

“I have to go to work this morning, Yuuji,” you remind the boy. He frowns a little, a signature pout pulling his lower lip into his mouth. You have to look away to resist giving into his sad smile. “I’ll be back before you know it! Can you keep Megumi company while I’m gone?” 

Nodding fervently, Yuuji moves away to stand by his friend. It’s quite funny, you muse. Megumi’s blank-faced expression looks a little silly next to his energetic friend. However, you know Megumi is very happy to spend the day with his friend. He may not look like he does, but Megumi treasures his close friends well. 

You give the boys another gentle smile before standing back up. Looking back at Megumi you ruffle both boy’s hair and chuckle at the whine it raises from both. Your son softly smacks your hand away, and your chest shakes with your laughter. 

“Alright, boys. You know how to contact me if you need anything, right?” Both boys nod diligently, hair shaking as they wiggle. 

With a final wave and a greeting to the nearby staffing nurse, you head back out into the winding halls of the Shatterdome. Despite the swarms of soldiers wandering through the hangers, there’s a tightness in your chest that makes you feel so lonely. Without an update from the Marshall, you are left to stew in your worried anxiety, clutching onto the hope that both Jaegers and their pilots will return safely to base. 

Entering your usual training area, you force a stoic look onto your features and set your shoulders back to appear composed. The group of familiar cadets are already waiting inside, ready for another lesson. You forgo combat training today, knowing you’ll be too absent minded to pay close attention to each cadet’s compatibility. Instead, you turn their attention to group exercises. You separate them into smaller groups and point them towards one of the obstacle courses in the indoor training gym. It’s a physical course, but it takes teamwork to complete. Each obstacle can only be surpassed if all four group members work together. You hope the exercise will tune their relationships so that they one day may battle seamlessly together. 

A few hours into your training exercise, your hands tighten in their stiff position behind your back as a Lieutenant steps into the truing grounds. The cadets look up from their places, shifting to turn their attention to both you and the newcomer. 

You hold up your hand in a silent command, and the soldiers turn away, proceeding with their exercise while you step away. 

Stomach in knots, you feel your heart begin to beat wildly in your chest. You know the Lieutenant is here to inform you of both Limitless and Black Flash’s status. With a stuttering pulse and tense limbs, you follow after them as they step away from your group of students. You’re grateful for the space, not wanting the cadets to see your unease. 

When they come to a stop, they pivot on their feet to address you, “Captain.” 

You nod, settling into the appropriate stance with your arms still stiff behind you. In this position, you’re able to resist the urge to pull at your cuticles. It’s difficult to stop yourself from shifting on your feet, but you manage as you press your lips together tightly. You suck in a breath, nodding as the turmoil continues to contort inside you. 

“Lieutenant,” you reply stiffly. Your tone is clipped, but thankfully they don’t seem to take offense to your firm tone. It’s apparent that you’re worried for the outcome of your friends. Despite your hopes to appear professional, you must reveal an inkling of anxiety in your tense stance and apprehensive eyes. 

“The Black Flash and Limitless have returned to the Shatterdome.” 

Inhaling sharply, you nod and allow them to continue. Eyes hard, you keep your stance stiff despite the ache in your chest and the longing to sag under the anxiety. 

“Pilots Nanami and Haibara have sustained minor injuries, but are otherwise unharmed.” The update has your shoulders sagging in relief, but the lack of knowledge of Limitless keeps your stomach turning. 

“And the others?” You prompt, eyes scanning the Lieutenant for signs of grief. 

“The Jaeger Limitless endured heavy damage against the Category Four Kaiju. The hull was breached during battle and the mechanics failed upon their return. Limitless will be decommissioned upon the Marshall’s command – the destruction is beyond repair.” 

You suck in a heavy breath and nearly step away from the form in front of you. The sinking feeling returns, and a lump swells in your throat. Chest tightening, you swear you can hear your pulse in your ears. A hull rupture. You’re too familiar with the words. Memories flick past your eyes, and they’re difficult to shake away. Flashes of concern race through your head, and you can barely manage your next question. 

“The pilots?” You muster, voice a little shaky. “Are they -” 

The Lieutenant makes eye contact for the first time since their arrival. “Pilots Gojo and Geto are recovering in the emergency Medbay. Gojo Satoru experienced severe injury to his arm during battle and was transported alongside Geto Suguru as soon as they finished docking.” 

Recovering. That’s good. Recovering means they’re not dead. That’s all you can think as you thank the Lieutenant for the update. You dismiss them with a nod. 

As soon as they disappear around the corner, you let your shoulders sag. Collapsing inward, you heave a shuddering breath and suppress a sob of relief. Heavy injuries, the words bounce around in your head. Heavy injuries are alright, as long as they’re both still breathing. You can handle the recovery. It’s difficult to even think of any other scenario. You’re not sure you can handle losing another one of your friends. 

Hunching over, you rest your hands on your knees and muffle a sob. Squeezing your eyes shut, you allow your chest to shake through another panicked breath. There’s both relief and worry still rolling in your chest, but you try to remain optimistic. 

Pausing for a moment, you take a deep breath before righting yourself. Swaying on your feet, you push back the lump in your throat and the tears that ache behind your eyelids. Stepping back into the training area, you beckon your group of cadets back to your side. 

With a short explanation, you dismiss the cadets early, knowing you’ll have to let the Marshall know later. The ache in your chest that longs to rush to Gojo and Geto’s side is too strong, and you know you won’t be able to focus on the training session any longer. 

Waving your hand, you watch the cadets exit the space before you push off your heels. Trying your hardest not to race, you take quick strides towards the Medbay. You can’t explain why your heart pulses against your chest so rapidly, nor can you decipher the discord of emotions that ache in your mind for both Geto and Gojo. All you can do is continue navigating the winding hallways of the Shatterdome, bringing your steps closer to the two pilots that have been ingrained in your mind lately. 

It’s only moments later when you push open the Medbay doors with a resounding thud. Eyes shift to your form, but you ignore their curious gazes in favor of locating a nurse. Striding towards an unoccupied shift nurse, you question Geto and Gojo’s location. They meekly give you the room number, before you turn quickly on your heel towards the correct direction.

Scanning room numbers with a racing mind, you finally locate the one you’re looking for. With a lump steadily pushing into your throat, you force open the door gently despite your rattled mind. 

Suguru is the first you lay eyes on. 

He’s got bandages wrapped around his shoulder and gauze pressed against his cheek. Hair ruffled and falling from its bun, there are wrinkled lines of worry on his forehead, but he seems otherwise unharmed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief, one that turns Suguru’s attention away from his lover and towards the door. 

When he meets your gaze, he lets out a shaky breath. You let your chest sag in relief once more and follow his command as he waves you forward. 

Stepping towards him, you let your heart jump into your throat as you finally let a tear squeeze past your eyes. It sinks onto your cheek, and Suguru aches to brush it away with his fingers. He wants to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips and force away all the melancholy that has your face twisted into such sadness. 

Though, he knows he doesn’t look much better. 

With his arm bandaged from the nasty scrape, Suguru got lucky. The fight could have ended much worse if not for Satoru’s quick thinking. He lets out a heavy sigh that sounds too much like a sob. Motioning with a wave of his hand, you approach Suguru with a sad smile. 

“Suguru,” you nearly whimper. It’s a watery sound, barely able to be forced out of your throat with the lump that sits in the way. The dark-haired pilot’s eyes soften into a look of loving agony that you can’t quite place. The sound of your voice strikes a chord in his chest and he hates the way it makes his heart throb. Allowing himself a moment of weakness, Suguru’s hand reaches out when you’re close enough to his side. 

Looking weaker than you’ve ever seen him, Geto’s hand extends towards you. Heart stuttering, you grasp ahold of his outstretched fingers and allow him to pull you into his side. Suguru, uncharacteristically small under your gaze, wraps his arms around your waist. Pulling you into him, he rests his head directly onto your chest, hiding the teary eyes he’s barely managing to suppress. He hums a broken sound, muffling it into the thick material of your uniform. 

Your heart aches at the sound, bringing your hands up to rest them on his shoulders. Geto clutches you tight, hands gripping your hips as he inhales another shuddering breath.

Over his shoulder, you finally get a glance at Satoru. 

He’s laying in an infirmary bed, eyes shut but without his blindfold. Looking beaten, there's gauze wrapped around his forehead, likely from a head injury, and his arms are wrapped in similar material. It’s his left arm you're worried about – the one that had been sliced open when the hull ruptured. A deep slice ran along the length of his arm, sanguine smudges evidence of the blood that continued to leak through the bandages. You wince in memory of a similar scar that now runs along the length of your own left arm. 

“How is he?” You whisper, voice just loud enough for Geto to hear. Your chest is a bit lighter now, the anxious turmoil being soothed by Suguru’s fingers as they rub gentle circles into your hips. The motion makes your heart stutter and your stomach flips, but it’s a much more pleasant feeling that the bubble of worry. 

Still pressed into your chest, Suguru mumbles his response into your form. 

“Alright, I think. He took a hit meant for the Black Flash,” Geto mutters. His chest vibrates with his words, the feeling radiating into your own skin and sending shivers down your spine. 

“What?” You mutter under your breath, a little confused. You pull Geto’s face out of your chest gently. Placing one of your hands against his cheek, face heating a little at the intimate gesture, you question him. “What do you mean?”

“The Kaiju was smarter than we anticipated,” he grunts, face pulled into a frown. You nearly brush your finger across his soft lips, but resist the urge when Geto continues speaking. “It separated us from Kento and Yu. When it was in Black Flash’s blind spot, it lunged to take them out, but ‘Toru had already forced Limitless in between. The Kaiju’s teeth damaged the hull, and Satoru was too close to the shrapnel that was expelled.” 

You suck in another breath, eyes looking back at Satoru in his bed. Still asleep, he looks more peaceful now that you can see his eyes. Though he’s injured, you’ve never seen the tension leave his form as it has now. Letting out a little huff of relief, you mentally thank him. Satoru saved the Black Flash today. Without him and Suguru, you may not have seen Nanami and Haibara again. 

With a tight chest and pursed lips, you shift your eyes back to Geto. He’s looking at you now, eyes still soft and a little watery. It’s hard to tell, but you’ve gotten used to both Geto and Gojo’s emotional intricacies in the past few weeks. You know he aches for his lover. He probably feels a little guilty too, something you know you’ve taken your fair share of as a pilot. 

Brushing your fingers over his cheek, Suguru feels another pleasant hum radiate through his chest. He loves the feeling of your skin against his, longing to press his body further into your own. Looking back at his wounded partner, Suguru sags against your chest again with a heavy sigh. 

“S’alright, Suguru,” you whisper once more. “You’re both safe now.” 

You’ve never felt closer to either pilot than you do now. Whatever strings connected you before, are now pulled taut; no more loose loops and tangled knots. You can almost feel the bond between the three of you sing stronger with each passing moment. The notion fills you with another bout of warmth. 

Letting yourself be a little selfish, you lift the hand that was pressed against Suguru’s shoulder. Hesitantly, you drop it onto his scalp with a shaky movement. Unsure of proceeding, you go still with a racing heart. Suguru, who’s heart now matches yours in pace, softly nudges his head further into your stomach. With his permission, you let your fingers delicately scratch against his scalp. His soft, silken hair brushes against your skin, and he lets out a quiet, audible groan when you scratch once more. 

The sound has your ears heating and brain stuttering, but you continue your motions regardless. Suguru appears to melt, his body going lax against you as he tilts his head further into your fingers. With a soft smile, you let your heart hum happily despite the emotional turmoil. 

You’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening once more. 

Turning towards the entrance, your eyes meet the little form of Megumi, who shifts back and forth on his feet with wary eyes. He’s fiddling with his hands and looking a little perturbed. Leaning away from Suguru, who nearly audibly whines when your fingers leave his skin, you shuffle towards the door and drop to your knees. 

“Hey, Bub,” you mumble, hands coming up to grasp his smaller fingers in your own. “S’going on?”

Megumi’s lips press together as he peers around you to look once at Geto and then at Gojo’s sleeping form. He wrings his fingers together again, feeling nervous. You notice his eyes linger on Gojo’s injured form, his body nearly rocking back and forth as he fidgets. You manage a little smile and lift off your knees, offering your hand to your son. 

“S’okay, ‘Gumi. Gojo’s alright now.” Your words seem to ease the boy for now, but he still flicks his gaze back and forth between you and the white-haired pilot. “You wanna see him?”

Megumi manages a little nod, grasping onto your fingers as you lead him towards Gojo’s bedside. Geto’s eyes follow you, a gentle look in his gander. He loves to watch you and Megumi interact, feeling a little bubble of warmth in his stomach when you ensure the boy is comfortable with every new interaction. Shifting in his seat, Geto offers a little wave at Megumi, who sends a small smile back. 

Crouching again, you pick Megumi up into your arms. Fidgeting as you place him onto your hip, Geto stands to shuffle over to your side. You flick your attention to him for a moment, ensuring that he's not in any pain as he moves. Suguru waves off your concern, coming to stand behind you and Megumi. 

The three of you stand at Gojo’s bedside, your fingers rubbing comforting circles into Megumi’s back as he scans Satoru’s injured form. With perfect timing, Gojo is just beginning to wake. His pupils shift behind his eyelids and he muffles a little groan. From behind you, Geto lays his big hand across Gojo’s forearm. 

When Satoru’s crystalline blue eyes open, he's met with three figures standing over his bedside. True to Gojo’s nature, he musters a little smirk that raises the corners of his lips. You nearly scoff lightheartedly when he murmurs under his breath. 

“Aw, were ya’ worried about me?” 

Geto chuckles when Megumi turns away from Gojo, pressing his face into your chest. You let out a little giggle as well, shielding your son from Gojo in his faint embarrassment. Even with his injuries, Satoru still manages to muster his energetic demeanor, hiding a wince when he sits up on his bed. 

You send Gojo a look, eyes soft and expressing your thanks silently. He meets your gaze, a sweet look in his own vibrant, blue eyes. Satoru sends you a little nod, letting his fingers brush against yours when you’re close enough. The touch sends a little shiver down your spine and Megumi wiggles against you. 

In the light of the infirmary, the four of you are in your own little world. 

Geto watches happily as you and Megumi speak quietly to Gojo, your son’s body now sitting on the edge of Gojo’s bed. Geto savors in the secluded atmosphere, – just the four of you and no one else to interrupt. He hopes there are many more moments like these, especially some without an injured partner. With a soft sigh, Geto finally presses closer to you, and you let him. He rests his chin on your head with his chest pressed against your back. Exchanging a knowing look with his lover, the two of them sink into the happy aura and let themselves relax in the presence of you and your son. 

Satoru recovers steadily, his arm healing nicely and scarring over in the days that follow. The stitches were removed a little more than a week later, the wounds having closed without any signs of infection. When you greet him that afternoon, Gojo pulls your body next to his, comparing his scarred arm against your own. You laugh when he murmurs that you now match, enjoying that Satoru can find little bits of happiness even in his own pain. 

Limitless, the once hulking, Mark-4 Jaeger is decommissioned shortly after they had docked. Both pilots had been devastated, watching as their beloved machine slowly powers down for the last time. You stand at their side, rubbing Gojo’s side when he’s forced to look away with a tightened chest. Geto leans into you, forcing a deep sigh as he wonders what will happen next. 

You are informed a few days later, of a new Jaeger, one that’s been remodeled and updated from its previous Mark-3 status. With a sharp, breathy inhale, you listen as the Marshall reveals the news. 

The Scarlet Dragon, after its final battle, was refurbished. Brought back to life after tragedy, the Jaeger’s core had been saved, allowing mechanics to rebuild its body from the ground up. Now standing taller than before, the new Jaeger is no longer a sanguine color. The metallic, shining white illuminates a rainbow shine when the light hits the paint. It’s beautiful. Unlike any other built before it, the machine stands tall and proud under your stare. 

No longer The Scarlet Dragon, the new Mark-5 machine - first of its kind - has a new name: The Rainbow Dragon. 

Built with your previous Jaeger in mind, it looks just like the one from your memories. Though the paint is different and it’s taller than before, with new weapons and updated technology, you can still see the Scarlet Dragon before you. 

The ache in your chest feels heavier than ever. You can almost feel your brother at your side as you stand in front of the Rainbow Dragon. After the Marshall had explained the machine he’d hidden from the public eye, you’d taken refuge in its hulking form. Mind racing, you consider the Marshall’s terse words.

“First of her kind,” he mutters under his breath. “As the first Mark-5 Jaeger in history, the mechanics had to work around the necessity of a stronger, enchanted Drift mechanism.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means: the Rainbow Dragon needs three pilots.” 

The Marshall hadn’t continued, but you understand the subtext regardless. 

The new machine was capable of immense strength and agility, one that surpassed any Jaeger before it. However, in order to operate the new apparatus, it needed a third pilot to handle the heavier neurological load. You hadn’t asked who he was going to choose for the job, but you already knew who his choices were. 

Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru were two of the best pilots the Jaeger Program had ever seen. Their abilities would be wasted anywhere else. Both men were incredible pilots, capable of thinking on their feet and coming out victorious despite heavy losses. 

The third pilot had to be someone that knew them well. Someone that understood their emotions and their bond – a soldier who had experience operating a Jaeger and knew how to handle the Drift. It had to be someone who was close to both Geto and Gojo, being able to understand them even without the aid of the neurological connection. 

The Marshall didn’t need to say a name, because you already knew you were the only pilot he considered. 

Quickly after dismissing you, you shuffled into the new hanger. Climbing the rafters, you pulled your heaving body onto the high platforms in front of The Rainbow Dragon and finally collapsed. 

Feeling weaker than ever, you mulled over the information, letting your brain spiral into darker territory as you relived your final moments in The Scarlet Dragon. The memories are painful. Seeing your brother ripped from his seat and your voice rubbing raw as you screamed for him, you felt tears drip from your lower lids. Lifting a hand to scrub them away, you huffed a small sob. 

The task seems too daunting. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready to climb inside another Jaeger, your memories too strong and the wound still fresh. Your chest is heavy, a weight sitting on your ribs as you recall your loving brother. 

“Hey, Kiddo,” his voice rings in your memory. “Look at me, Kid. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay? M’always gonna be right here – you can always find me in the Drift.” 

The words have never left you, radiating through your being as his deep voice murmurs in your mind. You know he’d have wanted better for you. He always pushed you to greater heights, claiming you deserved more than what you were given. The weight in your chest seems to only get heavier when you think of him. You know he wouldn’t want you to stop fighting because of him. He’d probably drag your ass back into a Jaeger himself, if he could. He’d be murmuring under his breath the whole time, grunting good-natured jabs as he pushes you into the pilot’s seat. 

Startled out of your thoughts as someone climbs the rafters behind you, you scrub your tears away as their form enters the metal overhang. You’re surprised to see both Nanami and Haibara, your son’s body between their feet. 

“Hey, Kid.” Nanami’s voice breaks the silence. His lips are pressed together, eyes soft as he takes in your watery eyes and sad smile. 

Megumi crawls forward quickly, his little hands coming up to your face to gently wipe away your falling tears. You melt at his comforting gesture, wrapping your arms around his body to pull him into your lap. He settles into you swiftly, wiggling his form to situate himself. 

Nanami and Haibara settle at your sides, the four of you sitting in a quiet silence for a few moments before you break it. 

“I assume you heard the news?”

Both men nod, their heads shaking as they shift to look at you. Megumi leans back into your chest, looking out at the Rainbow Dragon in wonder. Dark eyes wide, your son gasps at the magnificence of the Jaeger before you. 

“Okaasan, do you miss your brother?” His little voice questions. He’s taken to fiddling with your fingers, rubbing his own short ones against the tips of yours as he speaks. 

Megumi was young when your brother died, so you don’t expect him to remember much of him. He knows you were close with him, especially with all the stories you tell the younger boy. Though he may not recall your brother clearly, Megumi can still see faint flashes of both you and you brother, alongside two blurry figures that he assumes are his parents. He doesn’t remember either of them, they had died long before he could ever recall their faces. Since he was young, you were his only parental figure – something he’s more than fine with now. 

You nod softly, looking down at Megumi as Haibara rubs a hand across your back. Leaning into your friend’s hand, you whisper back to Megumi, “Very much.” 

Voice watery, Megumi leans his head back against your chest to look up at you. Hair ruffled and dark eyes shining, the boy’s lips turn upwards in a small smile. 

“He must have been a very good person,” the boy mumbles as he twists your fingers. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so sad, right?”

Nodding again, you look back up at the Jaeger before you and mull over Megumi’s words. Nanami and Haibara are still silent at your sides, but you savor their quiet comfort regardless. Your two oldest friends already seem to know when their muted solace is appreciated, letting your son be the one to speak. 

“Would he be mad if you wanted to fight again?” His words startle you, your eyes shooting back down to look into his curious ones. The tiny orbs are inquisitive, full of questioning wonder that you’ve seen before. 

After a moment’s hesitation, you consider your son’s words. You don't think your brother would be mad if you were to return to a Jaeger. In fact, you think he’d be ecstatic if you continued to fight even after his unfortunate death. It’s not necessarily his memory that holds you back, but your own fear. 

You’ve long dreaded the connection that’s made between pilots, too anxious that the strain of the Drift with another copilot would bring you too much pain. You were still connected to your brother when he was killed. Every moment of his dying agony was your own. You didn’t think you were ready to experience that kind of anguish once more. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply softly. Squeezing Megumi tight in your arms, you press your forehead into his hair.

“Are you scared then?” 

Without lifting your head, you nod against Megumi’s hair. His words aren’t angry, nor are they accusatory. He simply wants to understand why you never return to piloting, always a little uncertain about your reasons. 

Megumi nods his head in understanding. He continues looking out at the Rainbow Dragon, letting his fingers stroke comforting circles into your hands. Your son is remarkably intelligent. For someone his age, Megumi is keen and able to understand complex emotions even without experiencing them himself. He’s caring too, making sure to silently comfort you with little strokes of his hands as he speaks.

You’re so incredibly proud of him. Despite all the tragedy in his life, your son is immensely wise and so exceptionally kind. You feel your heart squeeze with a warmth as your softened eyes leak a few tears into his hair. 

“Yeah, ‘Gumi,” you whisper, only for him to hear. “M’scared.”

“That’s okay, Okaasan!” He replies cheerfully, his voice light and energetic despite the gloomy atmosphere. “I can be strong for you!”

Your eyes crinkle as they turn into a sweet smile. Heart singing, a surge of warmth fills you as Megumi speaks. You couldn’t be more happy to have Megumi as your son. 

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Megumi croons. “And then when it’s all over, we can finally go home.”

Letting your body collapse into Megumi, you weep a little sob. Home, you think. That sounds nice. The idea of a little beach side house, Megumi’s little body running around in the sand and the salty smell of the ocean in the air. Your heart aches as you imagine it. After everything is finally over, you finally want to buy the house you’ve had your eye on. You want to adopt Megumi and take him home as your son, officially. 

You’re surprised when the images of Geto and Gojo sneak into the fantasy. Their forms dance in the sand, Gojo flicking water at Megumi as he squeals. Heart full, you hum pleasantly. Nanami and Haibara join the sight soon, Yuuji’s pink hair peeking out from behind Megumi. Your little family. 

Nodding fervently, you press a kiss to Megumi’s hair with a determined sigh. Nanami and Haibara watch as you set your shoulders back, their own chests fluttering with happiness as the youthful determination finally fills your body once more. 

“Okay, ‘Gumi,” you whisper. “One more fight, then we finally go home.” 

Three days later, and there’s no time to test your drift compatibility with Geto and Gojo. 

The Marshall, after speaking with the lead research specialist, wants to make a final attempt to close the Breach. With new information regarding the opening between worlds, he’s certain that this final shot will work. 

You’re nervous – more than you’ve ever been in your life. It’s been a long time since you’ve put on a drive-suit, twinging a little when the thin needles insert into your spine. You’re a little stiff, but it feels good to be back in the suit. It feels natural once again, the material shifting as you walk. Heading into the cockpit of the Rainbow Dragon, your stomach quells in anxiety. 

You’d said goodbye to Megumi a few moments ago. The Marshall promised to look after him while you were gone, your trembling hands thanking him. You pressed a kiss to Megumi’s hair, promising to be back soon. There was no need to say farewells, you were confident. You would not be leaving Megumi behind again. He would not have to let go of another parental figure. 

He sent you a warm smile, pressing his own little kiss to your cheek. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so affectionate, but you blame it on him sensing your nerves. 

Inside the Rainbow Dragon, Gojo and Geto are already preparing the Jaeger for dispatch. There’s muffled conversation between them, a sense of lingering unease in the cockpit. The Marshall had not informed them of their third pilot. Neither Gojo nor Geto were sure of the choice for the empty pilot’s seat in the cockpit. 

Though, both pilots already knew who their choice would have been.

There was only one other person in the Shatterdome who knew their minds inside and out. Though they’d only been ‘friends’ for a few months, both Geto and Gojo knew you were fine tuned to their intricacies by now. It was evident in the way you helped Gojo pull his pilot uniform over his wounded shoulder weeks ago. As if you knew the exact movement that would bring him pain, you maneuvered the uniform over his arm, ensuring that he didn’t have to make any motion that would hurt him. 

Gojo saw it in the way you helped Suguru pull his hair into a bun when his own shoulder ached after their battle. His lover’s eyes fell shut as your fingers brushed against Geto’s scalp, his smile warm and endearing as you carefully tied the elastic. 

The three of you worked seamlessly together now. 

From over his shoulder, Geto mumbled something as he fidgeted with the helmet in his hands. The black drive-suit fits his build well. Broad shoulders and thin waist, Gojo finds himself scanning his lover’s body with appreciation. 

Looking up, Geto rolls his eyes when he meets Gojo’s sultry gaze. Wiggling his eyebrow childishly, Satoru laughs when Geto shoves him away. It’s amazing they both can play around like this before a mission. Though the atmosphere is taut, nerves on end and soldiers tense around them, Geto and Gojo still manage to keep a lighthearted facade. 

As the two continue pre-ignition procedures, footsteps entering the cockpit cause both their heads to raise from their hunched positions. The steps stop just before the far right pilot’s seat, a beat of silence echoing through the room before you break it. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I take the right,” you grin. “My left arm was shot to shit.” 

Geto’s head whips in your direction so quickly, you have to muffle a giggle. His black hair falls in front of his face in his shock, the strands of his bangs blocking his eyes for a moment before he shakes them away. When his gaze meets yours, you suck in a breath at the look in his eyes. They're softened, pupils shining with an endearing expression that makes you want to melt under his stare. Geto looks at you as if he’s been waiting for you – not just now, as a pilot, but forever. He and Gojo have been waiting for you, whether they knew it or not. 

Gojo’s smile widens, a laugh falling from his lips as he lets out a little cheer. His heart squeezing, he takes in your figure. The dark drive-suit suits you well, the material standing out against the pale interior of the cockpit. It’s you, he thinks. It’s always been you. They’ve been waiting for you. 

Nodding, Geto motions for you to take the right pilot’s seat. Gojo falls easily into the middle one, allowing his recovering left arm a little break. Settling into the left side, Geto feels a sense of ease spread through the room. It feels natural, your presence. It’s as though they’ve been battling with you this whole time. You fit so seamlessly between their personalities, taking everything in stride and working to better both them and yourself. 

“You look good, Sunshine.” It’s Gojo who speaks, his voice cutting through the silence. He’s looking at you, crystalline blue eyes taking in every inch of your figure as he had Suguru. Both of you look enticing in your drive-suits. 

“Thanks, ‘Toru,” you mumble in reply, ducking your head to hide your flustered expression. You hope neither of them notice, but it wouldn’t be in their character. 

“He’s right,” Suguru continues. “You ready, Pretty?”

You manage a shaky nod, settling your body back into the pilot seat behind you. Geto and Gojo follow suit, shifting to press back into the needles that attach themselves to your spine. Hair-thin and minuscule, you’ll barely feel the spines in a few moments, but the initial injection is never comfortable.  

When the three of you are finally settled into place, you begin pulling up the screen in front of you. Clicking your right arm into the brace that will allow you to control the Rainbow Dragon’s own left arm, you let the practiced motions of preparing the Jaeger drown out your nervous turmoil.

The Rainbow Dragon is a three-armed Jaeger, with a rotating middle that allows the limbs to switch positions in the middle of battle. While you choose to operate the right side, it’s likely the section could change. It’s not too drastic of an adjustment. Though some of the nerves are touchy, your left arm should be able to handle the fight just fine. It will simply be a little less reactive than your right. 

“Hey,” Gojo breaks the silence. He’s turned to face you, bright blue eyes tracing your features under the helmet you had slid on. His voice is soft, something you don’t often hear. “Let’s go somewhere after this. Just us – you, me, Suguru and Megumi. Some time alone for the four of us.”

Geto hums a happy sound, obviously in agreement. His dark eyes turn back to you, letting the pupils trace your features with an endearing look. In the cockpit, there’s some sense of a peaceful calm despite the stressful situation that continues outside your little world. It sends a bolt of warmth into your chest and you return Suguru’s sweet look, your cheek beginning to ache from the wide smile that settles on your lips. 

“The beach,” you decide after a moment’s hesitation. Stomach twisting, now with butterflies rather than nerves, you address them both. “Megumi’s always wanted to go to Okinawa.”

Geto shakes his head with a laugh before turning back to Satoru with a smile on his lips. “Okinawa it is then.” 

Before the Drift even commences, the three of you slide into a connection of your own. Minds so finely tuned to each other, you barely even need the drift to tell you what the other is thinking. You’re already imagining the beach. The white sand brushing against your toes and Megumi’s laughter in the air as the four of you take some well needed time away. In your own world, you finish preparing the final steps to dispatch the Rainbow Dragon, turning to face Gojo, your designated lead pilot. 

“All systems are a ‘Go,’ Six.” 

The white haired pilot’s lips curl into a smirk at the name, sending you a teasing look as you address him by his nickname again. It’s different now. While you used to throw the name at him with a subtle hint of distaste, now the name ‘Six Eyes’ means something else. It's spoken with a manner of confidence, letting Satoru know that you are placing your complete trust in his efforts as your lead pilot. 

Gojo turns to face his lover, receiving his consensual nod from Suguru before he addresses Main Control. “Rainbow Dragon is a ‘Go.’ Commence the Drift.” 

At his command, a voice repeats Satoru’s command in your ear. Settling back against the pilot seat with a lingering nervousness in your gut, you make contact with Suguru. His warm smile underneath the helmet soothes some of the anxiety, trying to comfort your racing mind. It’s been a long time since you’ve drifted with another pilot, and the first with a pilot who isn’t your brother. 

Taking a deep, controlled breath, you shut your eyes and allow the swelling of the Drift take over your mind. It starts with a subtle pressure, building until it presses at the forefront of your consciousness. When you succumb to its strength, you’re immediately met with flashes of memories. 

At first, they're yours. 

You see your brother's face as you and the Fushiguro’s laugh. The four of you are stuffed into your small bunker, clutching drinks as you giggle amongst yourselves. The swell of nostalgia presses against your chest as you feel the ache of grief pushing against your ribs. You look so happy here. 

When the memory gets pulled away, you know both Geto and Gojo are watching too. The Drift links all three of you, so they see every scene as it flashes by in front of you. Instead of feeling nervous, there’s some warmth in your chest that comforts you. You’re not afraid of them seeing your past. You actually find that you’re grateful they can see these memories, you know it will bring you closer together. Being able to physically feel every emotion from the others is both a blessing and a curse in the Drift. 

Another flash floats in front of you, and you’re holding Megumi for the first time. 

You remember the tears that dropped down your cheeks as you held his tiny body in your hands. He was so small, little tufts of dark hair fluffy against his forehead and dark eyes already open. Megumi looks up at you for the first time in his life, and you couldn’t resist the tears that fell from your eyes. His birth mother is asleep, having passed out with Toji at her side as he passes his son into your arms. Your brother is at your side, his head peeking over your shoulder as the two of you finally meet the child of your lifelong friends. 

You watch as your heart swells with love at the sight. You hadn’t known then, that Megumi would one day be your son. Though, you can’t find it within yourself to wish for anything different. He’s the perfect kid, even despite both of your flaws. 

When the memory is pulled away, it’s replaced by a painful one. 

You watch as Toji’s Jaeger falls apart, the machine collapsing under his insurmountable grief. Toji had lost his wife in a similar way you'd lost your brother. Pulled from the Jaeger by the hulking body of a Kaiju, Toji had crumpled under the weight of his lost love. Both himself and his Jaeger had been destroyed in the process. 

You remember crying out for both your friends, chest seizing as a sob wracked through your chest. It was up to you and your brother to finish off the Kaiju, not given a moment’s hesitation for the grief that swelled in your throat. 

There’s the flash of you holding Megumi’s body tight, his inquisitive eyes not quite understanding the situation, but squeezing you back regardless. He’d been so young.

Another blur passes through you, Geto and Gojo’s chest sinking under the weight of your own subtle grief. You don’t allow yourself much else, knowing you can’t immerse yourself in the memories. Following after one, ‘chasing the rabbit’ as the Marshall says, would only disrupt the Drift and cause the Jaeger to fail. 

Though they ache to comfort you somehow, both men allow the next memory to pass, watching with wide eyes as they are met with the sight that had previously ended your piloting career. 

Breath caught in their lungs, your voice crying out in their ears, they watch as your brother is ripped from his seat. Feeling every moment of your brother’s dying agony, they ache as you did. It’s painful, incredibly so. Gojo wishes to reach out to you, though he knows he can’t. 

They only watch as your past, broken form sobs as you finally finish the Kaiju once and for all. When you collapse against the coastline, the Scarlet Dragon defeated, there’s a crushing pain in both their chests. 

You resist falling into grief. 

Instead, you let these agonizing moments propel you into some kind of vengeful confidence. You won’t let these people die in vain. Toji and his wife, your brother, all those pilots before you – you will not allow their sacrifice to be for naught. 

With your head held high, your memories finally finish, allowing Geto’s to take their place. 

Each crucial moment of Geto Suguru’s life flows past your mind. You watch with your breath caught in your throat as he meets Gojo Satoru for the first time. They’d been young, only teenagers at the time, but they look so similar. Wide smiles on their cheeks, you watch as Geto shoves Gojo away with a laugh, the two boys playfully wrestling with each other. 

Another rift fades, and you watch two little girls appear before you. One blonde and the other dark haired, your eyes follow Geto as he hoists both girls onto his hips. Carrying them both with a warm smile, Suguru cares for both girls as his own. The sight makes your chest squeeze again – he’d be such a good father. 

You’re ripped from the sweet moment as the spectacle changes. Now, it’s a memory of pure agony. With wide eyes and a breath stuck in his throat, Suguru finds the two girls, eyes blank and blood dripping from their skulls. It’s clear they’ve been trampled, likely from a crowd of people trying to escape a Kaiju attack. Satoru and Suguru had been away, called to pilot their Jaeger as they left the girls in the care of a neighbor. Likely abandoned by the caretaker, the twins were mercilessly slaughtered before either man could even say goodbye. 

You nearly cough out a sob as Suguru’s grief overtakes you. It’s similar to your own, and you find yourself aching to comfort him as he did you.

As the sigh fades away, Satoru’s memories take their place. You’re not very surprised to find Satoru doesn’t have many happy memories that don’t include Suguru. From the pictures that flash through your consciousness, Satoru wasn’t allowed much of a childhood. His clan elders seem to rip him away the moment he had the strength to stand and walk on his own. 

Though, despite the unhappy memories, there’s ones of joy slipping in between. There's genuine smiles filtering through the cracks, images of his laugh as he lays on Suguru’s lap. A wide grin is on his lips as he sits in between Suguru, Nanami and Haibara in one of their bunkers. 

For a moment, you think the Drift has finally finished as the images fade away. However, you’re startled as one final sight flashes before your eyes. 

You don’t know whose memory it is. It could be either Suguru’s or Satoru’s, but you know it’s not yours. 

You know because it’s your body standing before your own eyes. 

In that moment, with your form sitting on one of the high-rise platforms in front of Limitless, you feel every moment of Geto and Gojo’s emotions. There’s joy and kindness, and some sort of longing that sits in your stomach and has your heart doing all sorts of flips. Your breath is stuck in your throat, a lump holding it there as you watch yourself turn to look down at the person. 

There must be some sort of difference in this memory because you swear you appear more beautiful than you’ve ever seen. It seems as though, in this person’s memory, they see you in such a pure way – as if they see you in a much better light than you see yourself. This person sees authentic, sheer beauty as your form turns to look at them. 

They see you in a light in which you’ve never seen yourself. 

You appear more beautiful than any instance you’ve ever seen before. In this memory, time seems to slow as your lips pull into a gentle smile and wave down at the person looking up. Your heart seems to catch, a pure longing taking its place as the person waves back. When your past body waves the person to join you, you swear you’ve never felt lighter.

There's so much pure joy and genuine aching for your presence, you think you might cry. You feel giggly and ecstatic, like a school girl all over again. It sets your heart alight, twisting your features into such a soft expression. 

You know it’s not just Geto or Gojo’s memory now. 

You can recall finding both pilots looking up at you in the rafters, their smiles and happy eyes gazing up at your body. You remember waving to them, gesturing for them to join you, with your own set of butterflies in your stomach. 

It’s not one of their memories – it’s both. 

Whatever joy and longing you’re feeling, is coming from both of them. They appear to be linked in such a way that they felt the exact same ache for you. Sharing both the memory and the feeling, the sight before you flickers and you fear you may cry. 

Not out of sadness, but from genuine love. 

You’ve never felt so honestly and authentically loved as you do now. Absolutely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of affection that swells in your chest, you fear you may sink too far into the memory. The tightness in your chest crescendos, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling. 

When you’re finally pulled from it, some kind of bond just snaps into place. 

Suddenly, you know exactly how the three of you feel for each other. There's no lingering questioning, no deceiving guesses that leave all of you confused. You know now. It’s always been you – just the three of you and your son now. 

As you meet the gazes of Satoru and Suguru, there’s a confident smile on your cheeks. You feel their joy and their swelling devotion as you settle into your new place – between the two of them. 

It's about an hour later, when you’re standing at the brink of the Breach, that the nerves finally return. It’s almost suspicious – you’ve made it this far with no problem. There’s been no sign of any Kaiju, not even a surge of energy from the Breach. It’s worrying, but for now, you take it as a good sign. 

But you need a body. A Kaiju body is needed to bypass the Breach. 

That’s what the research analyst had discovered. In order to pass through the rift between worlds, the Breach scans the Kaiju’s DNA like an identification tag. In order to pass through, you need a Kaiju - dead or alive. 

Perhaps they know this. You've underestimated their intelligence as a species before. Maybe they know of your plans – can tell that your kind intends to collapse the rift between your world and theirs for good. It’s suspicious, but you have no other explanation. 

As the Rainbow Dragon stands side by side with the Black Flash, two other Jaegers stand behind you, the darkness of the water seems to close in around you. Deep beneath the ocean’s surface, there's so little light. You can only see a few meters in front of the Rainbow Dragon, just enough to make out the edges of the Breach. It glows even despite the depths, a sentiment you’re grateful for. It casts a faint light around the edge, allowing you to keep the Black Flash within your sights.

“Any sign, Kento?” It’s Satoru’s voice that carries through the unnerving silence. Main Control had gone quiet too, all of you waiting in suspense. 

“Nothing, Gojo.” 

You turn to look at Suguru, a tense lipped frown on your face. He returns the look with a little nod, settling your nerves in the slightest. You have nothing to fear with them at your side. With Nanami and Haibara as your wing-men, you know the five of you are strong. 

Scanning the ocean floor in front of you, left hand clenching in your drive-suit, you feel the weight of the mission settle onto your shoulders. It’s your Jaeger that carries the payload – the Rainbow Dragon is the one assigned to pass through the Breach. 

“Rainbow Dragon!” The voice of Main Control filters through your earpiece. “Signatures are rising – two Category Five Kaiju are breaking through the Breach!”

The Rainbow Dragon whirs as your fists lift into a defensive position. The plasma cannon in Suguru’s right fist faintly hums as it prepares for battle, and the razor sharp sword retracted into your arm is cocked and ready to deploy. Settling your weight onto your toes, the three of you are ready for a fight. 

The Black Flash shifts at your side, Nanami and Haibara preparing for their own skirmish. From behind you, the four pilots of the Jaegers on standby begin to approach your location. It’ll be a fair fight: two Jaegers for each Kaiju. A Class Five Kaiju will be a tough battle, but you know you’re ready now. 

As the first monstrous head rips through the barrier between worlds, the Rainbow Dragon is already leaping forward with a metallic clang. The Jaeger’s chest twists, allowing you to catch the beast’s pincer jaws with your fist. Satoru, already in tune with your plan, reaches out with the third arm, grasping onto the Kaiju’s other clicking pincer. 

With a heavy grunt, Suguru already has the plasma cannon locked and loaded. Pulling with all your might, you feel your arm strain against the strength of the Kaiju as it tries to pull away. Yanking its jaws apart, you hear Satoru shout. 

“Now, Suguru!”

He doesn’t need to say it, already understanding the order inside your own heads, but Suguru follows through regardless. With a cry, the plasma cannon fires twice into the Kaiju’s rib cage. It’s not enough to kill, but it’s enough to stun. An inhuman roar escapes the hulking creature as the shots embed into its ribs. Glowing blue blood leaks into the water as skin is ruptured. 

From behind you, you hear the sounds of the Black Flash engaging in their own battle, Nanami and Haibara’s voices blending together as they fight seamlessly together. 

Another Jaeger, deemed the White Serpent, is not far behind you. Taking up your side, the Kaiju finally breaks free from your grip and knocks you away. You grunt heavily as the pressure pushes against your ribs. Falling onto your back, the Rainbow Dragon is quick to right itself onto its feet, torso twisting so that Satoru can push the three of you upright. 

“White Serpent,” you shout into your headset, “Three-o’clock!”

The Mark-4 Jaeger twists at your cry, pushing its fists into the head of the Kaiju as it charges them head on. The weight of the beast is strong, pushing the Jaeger backwards in its attack. It struggled under the snapping pincer of its jaws, the pilot’s grunting as they strain to hold it back. 

“Hold on!” Satoru commands, the three of you already pumping your legs to rejoin the fight. “Red, engage!”

Feeling his command send bolts of energy through your right arm, you click your hand into place. The razor sharp sword propels from the Rainbow Dragon’s right forearm, locking into position as you charge for the Kaiju. Muscles straining and legs pumping, you push off the ocean floor with a leap. 

Propelled through the ocean’s current, you twist your arm with a mighty swing. Arching though the darkness, your sword cuts flesh, separating the Kaiju’s arm from its body. Landing roughly against the floor, you look up from your position on one knee and watch the beast let out another monstrous sound. 

The White Serpent is knocked away with an angry swipe of the Kaiju’s claws. The pilots cry out, but are otherwise unharmed, Jaeger only sustaining minor damage to the hull. 

As you shift to ready for another attack, you’re startled by a sharp cry from Haibara. “Rainbow Dragon, on your six!”

Broken from your focus, unable to twist out of the way, the second Kaiju’s jaws close around your Jaeger with a sharp snap. Suguru twists the Rainbow Dragon, forcing his body into place instead of Satoru’s. It’s the left arm that gets enclosed in the Kaiju’s jaws, not Satoru’s. The other Kaiju, having broken free from the Black Flash’s hold, charged from behind, latching onto your left arm in revenge for its own kind. 

“Suguru!” You cry out, left arm enclosed in a blinding pain. The black-haired pilot lets out his own sharp cry, eyes screwing shut under the agonizing pain of the beast’s jaws. Chest seizing, a weight crushes your chest. This scene is too familiar. Red lights flash through the cockpit of the Rainbow Dragon as a portion of its armor is pierced. A warning alarm flashes as an oxygen tank ruptures, alerting you of the decreased levels. 

This won’t end the same way your brother did. 

Arms twisting, you cry out as you twist the Jaeger’s torso. Right arm locking into place, you force the blade of your sword upwards with all your strength. Satoru follows through, a click sounding as the plasma cannon on his own hand charges. 

With a mighty grunt, you push hard, muscles staining under the combined weight of the Jaeger and the ocean’s pressure. The sword slides into the Kaiju’s throat with a grotesque sound. 

“Satoru!”

You hold the Kaiju steady, sweet dripping into your suit as Satoru follows through. Despite the agonizing pain and rush of depleting oxygen, the white haired pilot engages his plasma cannon, firing three simultaneous rounds into the Kaiju’s chest. Unable to struggle away with your sword embedded into its throat, Satoru successfully pierces the monster’s ribcage with his aim. 

You hold your breath as the beast falls quiet. 

Monstrous, growing blood leaks into the water as the Kaiju goes still. Your sword retracts into the Rainbow Dragon’s forearm with a clang. Chest heaving and arm burning, you look back at Suguru. His eyes are droopy, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He’d taken the full force of the Kaiju’s jaw, his neurological link connected to the left arm before any other portion of the Jaeger. 

You don’t speak, but you feel the rush of comfort from Suguru’s side of the link. He’s alright, he tries to communicate, for now. You nod, shifting back to look at the Kaiju.

“Six,” you grunt, not taking your eyes off the lumbering corpse at your feet. “Check for a pulse.” 

A grin stretches onto Satoru’s features as the whirl of the plasma cannon fills your ears again. It’s a little animalistic, but you can’t resist the stutter of your heart at the expression on his face. 

Satoru fires another two shots into the beast’s ribcage, splitting the Kaiju open and allowing its chest to collapse. It's grotesque, but well-deserved after the pain it brought Suguru. 

“No pulse,” Satoru confirms when the Kaiju’s rib cage splits open and its heart is pierced with a final shot from his cannon. 

Grinning, the white haired pilot turns back to Suguru. Alarms are still flashing, and you take a moment to scan the oxygen levels of the Jaeger. A tank ruptured, oxygen is decreasing fast. 

“Satoru, if we’re going to do this – it has to be now.” 

His gaze lingers on Suguru, ensuring that his lover is alright before the Rainbow Dragon twists and locks into place again. 

“M’alright,”  Suguru grunts, trying to shake off the needles that feel like they’re piercing his skin.Now facing the remaining three Jaegers, you watch as the Black Flash struggles against the weight of the final beast. 

“Kento! Yu!” At Satoru’s command, the Black Flash pushes the Kaiju a step backwards with immense strength. 

Your feet pump again, pushing against the weight of the machine. It follows your command flawlessly, forcing its body through the ocean floor. Nanami and Haibara struggle against the final Kaiju, standing before the edge of the Breach.

With your minds linking, you understand Satoru’s plan. Sliding the sword out once more, you continue to push forward, forcing the last amount of energy you have into the charge. Chest heaving and panting, you tire under the force, but you continue. Sweat drips from your forehead, but you ignore it. 

Hardened eyes and teeth gritted, you reach the Black Flash. Sword pushing forward, you force the blade through the Kaiju’s chest as the other two arms of the Rainbow Dragon grasp onto its body. Your combined weight forces both your form and the Kaiju over the edge of the Breach. 

Chest seizing as you fall, you continue pushing your sword through the beast with a guttural sound. It finally gives way, slicing upwards and through the monster’s ribs. Glowing blood leaking into the water, your two bodies fall through the Breach with a bated breath. 

This has to work.

Eyes squeezing shut, the Kaiju in your grasp takes a final breath as your form finally breaks through the rift between worlds. 

Huffing out a breath, you pant as you try to regain your standing in the cockpit. Head racing, you barely internalize the success as you turn to look at Suguru. His eyes are drifting shut, barely able to keep himself awake under the pain of his arm. Growing dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you look downwards, watching gas escape Suguru’s own oxygen line. It must have burst sometime in the fight. 

Scanning the screens in front of you, you read Suguru’s vitals with a stuttering heart. His pulse is slowing, likely from the lack of air. Before you can move to help, Satoru is already pulling his own oxygen tube from his drive-suit, a sharp sound echoing through the silence as he pulls Suguru’s out. Exchanging the lines, Satoru sacrifices his own air for his lover, allowing Suguru to take a deep inhale as it reaches his lungs. 

You fight off your own lingering pain, feeling your chest sink as the reality of the situation dawns on you. Inside an entire other world, it’s up to you and your two pilots to detonate the payload and destroy the Breach. However, with Suguru fading fast and Satoru giving up his own oxygen, you know it’s a difficult task. 

Sucking in your breath, you begin the ejection procedure for Suguru’s pilot seat. Clicking away at the screen in front of you, you turn to Satoru. 

“’Toru,” you mumble. You’re in his head, he already knows what you must be thinking. There’s an empty, viscous twisting in your stomach as your eyes soften. 

When the white haired pilot turns to look at you, his eyes are hardened with a protective look. His chest tight and breath catching, he can already tell what you’re planning. “No.” 

“Satoru, please,” you whisper. You have very little options now. There’s only so much you can do. With the other Kaiju finally taking in the Rainbow Dragon, you’re sure there’s monsters already closing on your location. As you drift through the water, red lights flash as the oxygen levels continue to drop. 

Satoru shakes his head again, a horrible lump swelling in his throat. He can’t let you do this. It’s far too dangerous, and the idea of leaving you alone in this Jaeger, with Kaiju surrounding you and no help within sight, Satoru doesn’t think he could ever leave you alone now. 

“I can’t -” he brokenly cries. Voice twisted with a watery grief, Satoru feels like his ribs may collapse into his chest. Heart aching and eyes burning as they hold back tears, Satoru nearly whimpers. His head is racing as he tries to conceive another idea – any other idea. 

“Satoru,” you murmur, eyes soft and heart aching. “Let me do this – you know I can do this. I can detonate the payload alone, there’s not enough oxygen for the two of us.”

He shakes his head again, lungs seizing. Mind racing and breathing heavily, he locks eyes with you. Breath catching, there’s nothing but sincerity in your eyes. You can do this – he knows that. You’re an experienced pilot, perhaps even more than he, but he can’t force down the angry, terrified lump in his throat. It’s the thought of leaving you here. 

Either way, Satoru has to leave one of you alone. 

If he follows Suguru, it’s you he’s leaving in this dangerous, life-threatening mission. If he stays, he’s risking his own life and your little residual oxygen, leaving Suguru to escape to the surface on his own. 

He can’t think. 

There's too much happening, thoughts racing but he can’t seem to grasp onto any of them. Stomach twisting and eyes beginning to burn with tears, Satoru chokes on a sob. 

“Take care of Suguru for me, ‘Toru,” you whisper. “Right now, he needs you more than me.” Your voice is quiet. It’s just you and your copilots now. Main Control can’t hear you, connection breaking when you disappeared through the Breach. It’s just you, Satoru and Suguru, who is fading fast. 

“Promise me,” he nearly sobs, voice watery and catching in his throat. “Promise me you’ll follow right after me. You detonate the payload and you get out – please, promise me that.” 

You shakily nod, a sob of your own choking your throat. You push back against it. If you cry now, Satoru will never leave your side, you know it. But Suguru needs him now, his injured body needs medical attention and he can’t escape his life pod alone when he hits the surface. 

“I promise, ‘Toru,” you firmly reassure, soft eyes not leaving his own teary, crystalline ones. “We’re going to Okinawa, remember?” 

Satoru nods fervently, another sob breaking through his chest and echoing through the cabin. You inhale sharply, trying to resist your own cry. When Satoru gives you the command, you lean onto the screen before you, shaky fingers clicking against it as you set up his own ejection procedure. 

With alarms still flashing and red lights glaring into your eyes, you take a deep breath as the Suguru and Satoru’s pilot seats begin to lift. Tilting horizontally, you make eye contact with Suguru’s dark, hazy eyes once more as the life pod closes around him. You feel the Drift begin to leave your body as both pods are forced upwards, out of the Rainbow Dragon with a firm push. Link disconnecting, you’re left with the lingering emptiness and longing from both Satoru and Suguru’s connection.

Going limp, you finally let the sob escape your lips. Tears are forced out of your ducts as you turn back towards the front of the Jaeger. In front of you is nothingness. It’s a blank expanse of another world, only a few structures apparent in the midst of the void. You can tell there are Kaiju closing on your location, the radar screen blinking with light as they approach fast. 

With a determined huff and hardened eyes, you move quickly. Losing oxygen fast, you start pulling up the detonation procedure, only to grunt in frustration when the screen presents an error. You cry out, shoving the screen away as you turn towards the manual override switch. 

“Fuck!”

It’s on the other side of the cockpit. 

You’ll have to disconnect from your seat to reach it. If you’re quick, you can race there and back, reaching the ejection seat before the detonation timer finishes. As soon as you hit the override, the countdown will begin, and you’ll have little time to escape through the Breach. 

Breathing heavily and forcing the tears away, you push down the panic. You think of Suguru and Satoru. You imagine them on the beach, Megumi by their feet as they splash in the waves with a happy laugh. You long for the picture to become reality. 

In another determined breath, you pull up the ejection screen, leaving it open so that it’s ready when you settle back into the seat. Looking back at the override switch, you nod your head and unlock your drive-suit. 

With aching limbs and a heavy body, you force yourself to take quick steps to the side of the cockpit. You push against all thoughts of stopping, your sore frame begging you to give in, but you continue. Reaching the switch, you force the heavy safety frame away and take a final deep breath. 

Thoughts of Megumi in your mind, you harden your eyes and yank with all your might. 

As the switch flips, alarms begin blaring as the Rainbow Dragon informs you of the countdown. The numbers flash in front of your face as you push yourself back to the pilot’s seat. Body heavy and mind racing, you force your body to move faster than you ever have before. You can barely breathe. The lack of oxygen begins to push against your head, causing you to sway on your feet as you grow dizzy. A ringing pain pushes at your temples and your chest seems to grow even heavier. 

Reaching the seat, you force your body back in, feeling the needles slide back into your spine, you’re already clicking at the screen. Confirming ejection, your body begins to raise towards the ceiling of the Jaeger. In the flashing red countdown, you hold your breath as the last glimpse of the Kaiju’s world reaches your eyes. 

As the life pod reaches the ceiling, the Rainbow Dragon begins to eject your limp body as the countdown flashes its final three digits. You can’t hold your eyes open any longer. A heavy weight presses against your chest and your skull, and you can’t resist the drooping of your eyelids. With your heaving chest and dizzy mind, a final glimpse of the beach flickers across your closing lids. 

When the countdown finally flashes ‘zero,’ you're already unconscious. 

The moment his life pod reaches the water’s surface, Satoru is pulling open the hatch that exposes his body to Earth’s air. He inhales a deep breath, chest heaving as he savors the oxygen he greatly needs. 

Gripping the edges of the pod, the inflatable sides holding itself above the water, Satoru scans the surface for other life pods. His heart is racing, and despite having all the oxygen he could ever need, it still feels like he can’t breathe. White-knuckles grip the metal ridges of his pod, the other clutches his chest. 

As soon as a second pod reaches his vision, Satoru is already lifting his body with great difficultly and diving into the ocean’s depths. Inhaling a deep breath before he goes under, the crystalline-eyed man begins paddling towards Suguru's pod. 

The lid breaks away, allowing Suguru to breathe deeply as he battles the grip of unconsciousness. His lungs finally expand, allowing the oxygen to filter through his chest. Long hair brushes against his cheeks, falling loose from its place tied atop his head, Suguru feels his arm throb painfully. Though there is not a flesh wound, the nerves have been electrocuted in the fight to regain control of the Rainbow Dragon. 

Though the wound stings painfully, he can barely focus on the throbbing as he pulls himself upright. His mind is screaming. The last he remembers is a final glimpse of your sweet eyes as his life pod finally ejects from the Jaeger. He’s frantic, eyes now scanning the horizon line as he tries to find you and Satoru. Splashing is heard to his left, and Suguru whips his head over his shoulder to find white hair dripping with sea water. 

“’Toru!” He cries, voice cracking. 

Satoru manages to pull himself out of the water, lifting himself onto the side of the pod with a heavy breath. With minimal injuries and a wide-eyed look, Satoru feels his chest caving in. He’s barely settled onto the raft when his hands are pulling Suguru’s body into his. Hands fumble against skin as a shuddering sob leaves Satoru’s lungs. Suguru responds with a weak sound of his own, bringing his uninjured hand upwards to clutch Satoru close. There's relief in their grasp, but it’s not enough. 

Pressing his face into his partner’s neck, Satoru allows a few tears to leak onto Suguru’s skin. They’re both shaking, feeling weaker than ever before as they clasp each other tight. Suguru’s hand wraps around the back of Satoru’s neck, pulling him as close as he can. Both panting, the lovers lean into each other, too weak to hold themselves upright without the support of the other. 

When they find the strength to pull away, Satoru presses a wet kiss against Suguru’s forehead, inhaling deeply as tears continue to fall from his eyes. His watery gaze begins scanning the ocean’s surface, counting the seconds as he searches for the third pod. 

Suguru can feel each second stretch into minutes as his good arm pulls Satoru’s form tight. They're both looking now, breaths short and hearts racing, an ache sinks into their stomachs. It rolls through their gut, feeling sick as they continue to search. 

The faint sound of Main Control is screaming questions into their earpieces, but neither pilot can focus long enough to listen to their frantic voices. There's too much happening: the suspense of not knowing whether the Breach has collapsed, nor if the Black Flash and the other Jaegers escaped. However, the only thought pressing at the forefront of their minds is you. 

Satoru knows you would follow him. 

You promised him, and he knows that you don’t take promises lightly. 

All they can do is wait. Worrying his bottom lip in his teeth, Suguru can feel his pulse in his throat. Satoru’s no different, his fingers fiddling in the strands of Suguru’s hair as he pants. 

The second the third pod breaks the surface, Satoru’s hands leave Suguru’s skin. His mind is in shambles, heart in his throat as he leans forward and dives back below the water. Suguru is not far behind. 

Despite his injuries, there’s too much protective concern in his head. No part of him can resist the longing ache that pushes against his ribs. He has to reach you – has to see the light reach your eyes and feel your heart race under your skin. Pushing against his wounds, Suguru continues to swim in your life pod’s direction. 

Satoru reaches your side first. 

He can’t seem to breath; you haven’t pulled the hatch that opens your pod. Something is wrong, and Satoru feels as though his world may be collapsing before him. 

Pulling himself out of the water, he leans over the window of the raft that allows him to take a glimpse of your features. His world momentarily stops when your eyes don’t open. Scrambling for the latch on the outside of the pod, Satoru yanks on the lever just as Suguru is pulling himself onto the edge. 

With a hiss, the top of the pod slides open. 

Shouting is still ringing in their ears, but it seems to quiet. There's a stillness in the air as Suguru reaches forward. There’s a horrible twisting in his chest that feels as though his heart is being pulled from the cavity. An empty void will be the only thing left if he doesn’t see your pretty eyes open under his gaze. 

A broken, mournful sound echoes through the silence of the empty ocean atmosphere. It comes from Suguru’s chest. Black hair falling into his eyes, Suguru can’t hold back the sobs that leave his lungs. They’re angry, forlorn in a way neither pilot can describe. 

Satoru feels his own tiny whine escape his lips. For some reason, he can’t seem to move. Frozen, hands hovering over your still body, Satoru’s whole world stills. He's not quite sure if he’s breathing, but his wide eyes can’t leave your form. 

You’re so limp. Eyes shut, there’s no steady rise and fall of your chest. The notion makes Suguru shake harder. You look so empty now. 

“Hey, Pretty,” Suguru whimpers, voice barely loud enough for Satoru to hear. “S’us – S’Suguru and Satoru.” 

He brushes his trembling finger over your cheek, feeling the delicate skin beneath his own. When there's no response, Suguru falls forward, body unable to keep him upright. He feels so weak, so empty as he cries out. Pressing his forehead against your drive-suit, he longs to hear the pulsing of your heart in his ears. 

Satoru finally manages to pull himself from his shocked haze. His hands furiously shaking, he places one against your hair as he begins to weep.

“C’mon Sunshine,” he manages to whisper. “Ya’ promised us.” 

The combined weight of their unsurmountable grief begins to settle over them, a vacant hold filling the place in their heart where you used to reside. 

“Gojo,” a voice echoes in the pilot’s ears. It’s quiet, tone stern as Satoru strains to hear it. He can’t manage a reply, but he tries to listen regardless. 

“Is there a pulse?”

Suguru feels his heart seize. All breath leaving his lungs, his limbs go lax at the question. He’s unable to reach forward, too scared that if he lays his fingers on your pulse, his fears will finally be realized. If there’s no steady thump against his hand, Suguru thinks he may finally collapse. 

He swears he thinks this is how Toji Fushiguro must have felt. 

When his wife was pulled from the Jaeger, the grief must have been so heavy on his shoulders. The pain of losing his one and only must have pushed him so far into his head, that even his son couldn’t pull him out. When Toji Fushiguro finally succumbed to the agony, both he and his Jaeger were destroyed. 

Suguru thinks he understands Toji now. 

When Satoru finally drops his shaking hand to your pulse point, his long fingers trembling against your neck, the seconds bleed into hours. Every moment is silent agony as Suguru waits. Finally pressing his fingers into your pulse with a delicate touch, all time seems to stop. 

A beat passes. Then another, and Satoru feels nausea pressing acid into his throat. 

Another second of anguish passes. 

Then, Satoru lets out a shattered, painful sound. It rips right from his chest as he leans forward and pushes his forehead into Suguru’s shoulder. Limbs shaking, Gojo weeps out his answer, “Yes.” 

And time seems to start once more. 

Suguru’s shoulders sag in relief, letting another sob of relief echo through his being before he’s leaning upright. His movement startles Satoru, but he can’t resist the urge to feel more of your skin against his. Pulling your torso out of the pod, Suguru lets it fall back against his chest. Your body pressed into his front, Satoru sags over your legs with his own torso pushed against yours. 

Amidst them, there’s so little space, Satoru swears not even air exists between you. 

With Suguru’s arms now wrapped around your waist, he buries his head in your hair and squeezes you tight. Satoru follows, his own shaking limbs stretching over you and his other lover as he lets his body finally collapse in relief. Suguru’s good hand slides down your arm, slithering to reach the pulse point at your wrist. He has to feel it himself.

When the faint beat of your heart throbs against his skin, Suguru’s lips press a faint kiss to your neck with unwavering relief. 

“You’re squeezing me too tight.” 

The tiny voice sounds between them. It’s a little sound, barely heard over the ones of their own cries, but Satoru immediately pulls himself away. Head lifting from your chest, his wide, crystalline eyes take in your drooping ones. 

Now awake, Suguru finally feels the warmth of your skin pressed into his neck. Tired eyes finally open, he finds himself deflating further into you as if there was more space to fill. He huffs out a short laugh in between his sobs, your teasing words finally sticking home in his head. Satoru finds himself following, a chuckle of disbelief shaking his ribs. 

You feel the sun’s warm rays on your skin and pull a faint smile onto your lips as you take in the beauty of the Earth’s domain, finally free of the rift between worlds. 

Before any of you can speak, Satoru is pushing his hand behind your neck and yanking you forward. Your weak cry of surprise is muffled by his lips. Wet and messy, Satoru kisses you with every nerve in his body alight. Tears still falling from his cheeks, he sighs a breath against your mouth and savors the feeling of your skin in his hands. Without a beat of hesitation, you respond in kind – your own mouth moving to return Satoru’s emotional kiss. Heart swelling with the influx of genuine affection, you press your hand against Satoru’s stomach and let a breathy, pleased sigh filter into his mouth. 

Neither of you can think to end the warmth of your kiss, but Suguru is already pulling you away. With his fingers under your chin, he turns your head towards him and scans your features for any hint of discomfort. When he finds none, he too leans forward to connect your lips with his own. 

Suguru’s kiss is lighter than Satoru’s, but it’s no less meaningful. He’s gentle, pulling your chin forward to feel every inch of you against him. Noses knocking and salty lips sighing breathy sounds, you can’t imagine a more perfect feeling. Satoru presses into your other side, the weight of his body grounding you as you let your other hand brush against Suguru’s cheek. Pushing a stand of hair aside, you push your lips further into his with a pleased sound. 

When you pull away, Satoru is already moving to kiss his lover with the same amount of passion as before. You allow yourself to sag into their weight, closing your eyes to skin into their bliss as they press into each other. 

As the three of you collapse into weak laughter and the steady beat of the wings of a helicopter reach your ears, you can’t imagine being anywhere else. Pressed between Satoru and Suguru and sinking into absolute bliss, you shake with laughter as the white haired pilot finally speaks. 

“You fucker!” he whines as he presses his head into your chest once more. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Hot, white sand presses in between your toes as you take in the beauty of Okinawa island. Six weeks have passed, and after sufficiently celebrating the program’s victory, Suguru and Satoru sweep you off your feet. 

They pick up you and Megumi, pulling the two of you to the airport with wide grins and hushed words. When you finally step food onto the beach, Megumi’s mouth falls open in an awed expression. His dark eyes seem to sparkle from his place in Satoru’s arms. Squirming lightly, your lover sets him on his feet. 

The three of you watch with giggles escaping your lips as Megumi races to the water’s edge. Sticking his toes in the teal blue waves, your officially-adopted son turns back to look at you. 

“Okaasan!” he cries happily, racing back to you with a happy smile. Satoru and Suguru lean into each other with a giddy feeling in their chests as you and your sun wander back to the wet sand. 

You point out a shell to your son, smiling brightly when his wondrous, wide eyes feel the smooth material under his fingers. He clutches it tight, looking up at you with a grin. Turning away to find more, you look back at your partners. Waving them closer, you drop a little lower to flick Suguru with a wave of salty water when he’s close enough. 

With an indignant shout, Suguru grins wickedly. Megumi watches you squeal, laughing when Suguru lunges for you. With a smile of his own, Megumi giggles a sweet sound as his mother is chased by her lover. 

“Suguru, no!” You laugh, racing to hide behind Satoru. Your other lover stands tall, feeling more light than he thinks he’s ever been. 

“You started this, Pretty,” Suguru teases, his sultry eyes scanning you from behind his lover’s back. “I’m just finishing it!”

Satoru laughs, crossing his arms over his chest as he feels your hands grasp the fabric of his shirt to hide yourself. Heart warm, Satoru gives Suguru a knowing look. He’s met with a devilish smirk, the two scheming between themselves. 

Satoru is silent when he ducks quickly, dropping to his knees to allow Suguru ample distance to grab you. You cry out, moving to lunge away, but Suguru is much quicker. 

You squeal once more as Suguru's hands slide over your waist. With muscles honed from years as a pilot, the long haired man has no trouble lifting your body over his shoulder. He hums a sultry sound as Satoru laughs. Standing straight, he heads back to the water with your squirming body in his grasp. 

“Megumi, save me!” 

Your son giggles and shakes his head, enjoying his parents laugh and playing without a care in the world. 

When Suguru reaches the water, he swings you back over his shoulder and unceremoniously drops the both of you beneath the waves. Your laughter is cut short, submerged beneath the warmth of the waves. Reemerging with a gasp, your wet lashes bat against your cheeks as you grasp for Suguru. 

From the beach, Satoru is sneaking up behind Megumi, attempting to muffle his own scheming laughter. You watch the white haired man pluck Megumi up from the sand, loving the sound of their laughter. Then, Satoru is pulling your son into the waves next to you, the four of you sitting in the shallow waves together with bright smiles and happy hearts. 

A few hours later, when the four of you are dried off and relaxing in the little cottage you’ve rented, Satoru slides up behind you. His hands on your hips, his strong arms pull your back into his chest with a hum. You sigh into his embrace, leaning back into his touch with a stuttering heart.

You’ve decided that no matter how many times he or Suguru touch you, their skin will still light a fire to every nerve ending you possess Their touch brings a tingle to your body, twisting your stomach with butterflies and sending a giddy feeling into your chest. 

“Where’s Suguru and Megumi?” You question, eyes falling shut as Satoru presses a feather light kiss to your neck. His hair tickles against your skin, but you refuse to break away from his grasp. 

“Hmm,” Satoru sings, “Nanami and Haibara called. Yuuji wants Megumi to spend the night at their place.”

The two retired pilots followed your trip to Okinawa, renting a cabin not too far from yours. You mentally thanked your old friends, wondering how you got so lucky. 

When Satoru presses closer, you can feet the hint of something throbbing and pressing against your back. His pants are tight, but it’s no surprise to you – Satoru is constantly horny. Muffling a laugh, you turn in his arms to face him. 

“Ah -” you murmur into his chest as the two of you rock side to side. “So we have the house to ourselves, huh?”

Satoru hums again, his hands slowly dropping lower as you move. “M’rubbing off on you, Sunshine. I swear you’re as insatiable as me.” 

You grin, a sultry smirk pulling on your lips. Dropping your own hand low, you follow the line of Satoru’s abs with light fingers. Head dropping back in a groan, the sound allows arousal to collect in the space between your thighs. A bolt of seductive heat turns into a steady hum. You let your fingers sink a little lower, brushing against the edge of Satoru’s pants. 

Before you can move any further, there’s a dark hum from the doorway. 

Freezing in place, the sound of Geto Suguru’s deep, salacious voice echoes from the doorway, “Getting started without me, Pretty Girl? Awfully naughty of you –”

You nearly whine at his words, sinking into the dominant aura Suguru's exudes over the room. You don’t have to turn over your shoulder as Suguru is already pressing his chest against your back. His defined muscles and tightened pants push tight into you and you sigh a pleased sound. 

Suguru mirthfully chuckles, looking up from your form to meet Satoru’s bright eyes. As always, the two connect on another wavelength, already planning their next movements in their head with confident smirks. 

Suguru drags a finger down your spine, his touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. Oh, how he loves to see you shake under him. 

“S’it, Pretty baby,” he sings as you melt into him. 

Satoru hums again, pushing you tighter into your other lover as he drops his head to suck marks into your skin. Pulling at the hem of your - his shirt, actually - he fiddles with the material with his fingers. A whine escapes your lips as you arch into their touch, arousal collecting between your legs. 

“Don’t worry, Angel. We’ve got ya’” Satoru murmurs into your skin. “’Gonna fuck you so good, My Love.” 

Suguru makes an acknowledging sound, beginning to pull the shirt from your skin so he can feel the heat of your skin against his. When it falls to the floor, his own laying beside it, he lets out an appreciative sound as his fingers lift to flick gently against your uncovered breasts. Chuckling as you whine when he tugs, Suguru presses closer. 

“S’right,” Suguru purrs. “Wanna ruin you tonight, Pretty. ‘Gonna let us?” 

The rapid, consenting nod that follows shortly after is all the affirmation the two need. Tugging you towards the bed with a laugh, your little world begins to turn on its own, finally complete.

bonus: 

reader: I’m so fed up with others not finding me intimidating!

reader, pining satoru to the wall and looking over at suguru: do you feel threatened?

suguru and satoru: no

reader: then what do you feel?

suguru and satoru: ...

suguru and satoru: horny. 

a/n: holy shit. this is way longer than I intended it to be but I’m so glad I finished it. I really hope y’all enjoy this one!! 

#gojo satoru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto angst #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #geto x gojo #geto x gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x oc #Gojo Satoru x y/n #polyamory #jujitsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen au #pacific rim au #jjk x reader #gojo satoru fluff #geto suguru fluff #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk fanfic #jjk scenario

[aeor-is-for-reccing]

Shadowgast Recs: Based on A Movie/Book/TV Series

This week, we have fourteen shadowgast fics that were based on a TV, movie, or book series. Check under the cut for fics based on This is How You Lose the Time War, The Witcher, Ghostbusters, and more! As ever, don't forget to kudos or comment if you like them!

Lucidian Rim by literalfuckinggarbage (60266, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

A Pacific Rim AU with Caleb as the burned out Jager Pilot and Essek as the one who has never been drift compatible

Reccer says: Drift Compatibility is a great way to explain Caleb and Essek's connection, and I love the other little bits of worldbuilding, too

To be Defeated and Victorious by basically_npr_trash (6394, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

While on a mission for Master Ikithon, Bren receives a letter from a mysterious Dynasty stranger offering a tenuous olive branch. Bren's rational side tells him to burn it immediately, but something pulls on him to follow through. Based on This is How You Lose the Time War

Reccer says: I love all of the clever and strange places that they hide the letters and absolutely amazing love confessions

Another Time, Another Place by Operafloozy (9780, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Bren travel through time attempting to assassinate each other before falling into a collaboration (and in love.) Based off of This Is How You Lose the Time War.

Reccer says: Nothing says Shadowgast like rewriting reality to be with each other.

More Things in Heaven and Earth by kaeda (76998, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Magic in aeor goes VERY wrong. Essek and Caleb end up in Tusk love as Oskar and Guinevere.

Reccer says: This started out as a riot but then it actually gave me some major feels (I totally cried and reading this and that is the highest of compliments) I did not anticipate. I enjoyed every second of this ride it's the parallel universe Tusk Love fic I didn't know I needed.

some things time can't fix by Chrome (25930, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is arrested for treason and gets his daemon severed. The Nein try to find a way to save them.

Reccer says: This is such good hurt/comfort

into the desert of your pitiless faith by burningdarkfire (24913, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

A Memory Called Empire Fusion. Essek is a newly-arrived ambassador in Rexxentrum, Beauregard is his assigned cultural liaison, and Caleb is the consecuted soul at the back of his mind. Empires and Dynasties do not serve: they consume.

Reccer says: An amazing take on the source material, with plenty of twists and turns

Breaking Inertia by futureshieldmaiden (31096, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb and Essek get stuck in a time loop, and have to work together to get out of it. Based on Palm Springs

Reccer says: I loved Palm Springs, and I love the dynamic and secrets and forced intimacy of being stuck in the time loop together.

Cat's Paw by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (20628, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

A Shadowgast Witcher AU with Caleb as a Witcher and Essek as a sorcerer

Reccer says: I liked it!

you must first invent the universe by renquise (3466, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Imperial Radch AU. AKA, what if they were spaceship AIs?

Reccer says: I liked it!

little annihilation by 06151126 (6605, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: power difference, manipulation (minor)

Only one chapter so far - Greys anatomy but the m9 are interns at the hospital. Caleb wants to be the first to operate with Dr. Thelyss

Reccer says: This chapter was so brilliant! The author has medical field knowledge, and it shows. It also stuck fairly close to the first episodes of Greys which was lovely.

a guilty thing, a fearful summons by Anonymous (8593, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: canon typical body horror

A very loose ghostbusters AU, where Caleb and Essek are rival ghostbusters

Reccer says: The first chapter was just published, but I already love the characterization and the premise!

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with a recurring theme: Works in Progress!

#critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #aeor is for lovers #fusions

[kineticallyanywhere]

Out of curiosity, do you think that Scary and Normal (or any of the teens) are drift compatible? No pressure to answer, just vaguely recall that you liked AUs and Pacific Rim.

bro let's run the whole gambit. (these answers also work for fusions)

Scary & Normal: Yes, but only after Some Work. they'll have a big argument somewhere because they wish they had each other's backstories, but if they get over it they'll kick ass. And they want to get over it, so it'll happen. Just might take some work. Ultimately they can come to trust each other, even if they don't trust themselves.

Link & Taylor: Yes. It's already basically canon. Everyone's pretty sure they don't actually share anything in the drift; no thoughts, head empty. It's mostly that Taylor Brings Nothing Into the Drift, I think. If they're gonna slice something with a sword, he's here for it. He does not care about your backstory.

Link & Scary: So my immediate gut instinct was yes (I am not immune to Gothcleats) but thinking about it for a minute and I think my actual answer is... no... (And I think they don't work for the same reason that Scary & Normal do work.) Where they are right now in the show they've expressed a lot of similar views about the world, but those views all tend to come from very dissimilar places. Link's problems are about trust and whether or not he should hold his dad's lies against him (and all of adult-kind) while Scary's problems are centered around her self-image and self-worth. Link doesn't trust others while Scary doesn't trust herself. If you shove that together into one brain, can they even trust each other? So I think it would fall apart

Link & Normal: Nope. Nobody's fault, really, and they have their great moments together, but they're just very different people who could not agree on a plan in bullet-time to save their lives.

Taylor & Scary: No. Taylor may Bring Nothing Into the Drift but Scary sure does and whatever feelings Scary has about the whole "chopping his dad in half" thing, probably won't sit right with Taylor!

Taylor & Normal: God only knows. Barely. ONLY if Normal can keep his head out of the clouds for long enough. Maybe in an emergency. If the only goal is "kill monster" and Normal's focusing on nothing but that, they can do it.

Anyone & Hermie: no. someone pull that boy's head out of his own ass.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads 2 #pacific rim #pacific rim aus #ask ka #me talking

[isabelguerra]

having a sick day after the last like two months of stress so im gonna be the most indulgent ive ever been. wizard au has absolutely nothing on this level of indulgence

paranatural pacific rim au. years ago, ed and isabel were drift compatible sibling pilots to the jaegar BLITZ VALHALLA. after a kaiju incident which put Ed out of commission (leg injury), they relocated to the Shatterdome control room and began using that goofy charisma for coordinating Jaegar communications. Dawn Valhalla has since been decommissioned and Isabel co-pilotless, despite her blood thrumming to return to the cockpit. For now, cadet Guerra works as one physical combat specialist alongside:

MAXWELL PUCKETT is the Shatterdome’s newest recruit and rookie drift compatibility director. He heads the department of candidate choreography, using his experience in physical studies to identify potential jaegar co-pilots. He moved from the States due to the recent kaiju resurgence happening alongside the coast, and was recruited by the newly-appointed drowning head of the Jaegar Reinstatement Program, Richard Spender.

ISAAC O’CONNOR is. Um. A.. water.. boy…. maybe?

SCOURGE BEHEMOTH is the first and only Jaegar to ever share a 4-person neural load. Cadets JHONNY, OOP, STEVENS, and RAEL-JESÚS pilot the quad-armed titan — until Scourge is near destroyed fighting against a category 4 kaiju. Cadet Stevens has taken the opportunity to shift his focus towards field research, using his background in cryptosaurology to take over as lead kaiju groupie biologist. Cadet Oop is currently his assistant/supervisor, citing that “someones gotta watch ‘im. Dunno what’d happen if he got ‘leashed on the world alone.” In his own work Prof. Oop coaches what little incoming cadets the program still has. He occasionally works closely with Puckett, Guerra, and... Cadet Rael-Jesús has joined Burger in the Shatterdome control room, keeping their ears alert on deep sea soundwaves that may indicate activity in the Breach. Cadet Jhonny. Well. Cadet Guerra works as one physical combat specialist. Cadet Jhonny works as the other one. He joins Puckett and Guerra in the training facilities. For better or for worse.

The Jaegar program is already in decline. Kaiju keep coming. With each Jaegar the Shatterdome sends, fewer and fewer rangers come back — Dawn and Scourge? They were lucky.

The Shatterdome is growing desperate to stop this — in any way they can. They might even consider… reactivating some old friends.

#‘um katie stephens last name was revealed to be henchman in the latest upda-‘ NOT REAL. NOT REAL. DONT ACCEPT IT. THATS NOT HIS NAME. LALAL #paranatural #prau #something something something — GAUNTLET NOVA #swinging my feet. i should do some laundry before a friend comes over for gravity falls night

[k0nanharv3y]

Since I didn't find a promising list of Fanfics with Mikey Centric, I'M MAKING MY OWN

You can leave suggestions, THEY DON'T HAVE TO BE FROM 2012 OR MIKEY, JUST THAT HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER AND THE BOYS FROM 2012 WERE VERY FUCKED, but I am also open to reading from all the series and all the characters. (If you recommend LFLS I'm going to throw you out the window)

This will be constantly updated, but it's like... 3 in the morning here and I have school tomorrow

HEY SUNSHINE The darkness is safe but darkness is still darkness. Everyone needs sunshine to make the darkness feel less bleak.

Underground there was no sunshine.

Mikey decided that he would be that light no matter what it did to him

-My favorite story of all time, if you like Badass Mikey this is your story

REMEMBER YOUR MISSION 8 times Mikey drifted with someone...

...and one time he didn't need to.

-The 2012! TMNT x Pacific Rim AU It's good, it's worth it a thousand times, but it's more to pass the time and be calm from so much angst

Edit - REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU ABOUT ANGST? WELL, I LIED TO YOU *starts crying on the floor*

YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE MEANS (and it's killing me) "Finally, they could try and regain their lost childhood, to be a family again.

Except…

His family didn’t feel like family anymore.

-Do I... do I have to explain this? It's... I cried a thousand times when I read it, it's worth a thousand times the moon but... I'M STILL CRYING MY GOD

SPRAY PAINT, VIOLENCE AND SUPERHEROES Miles and Mikey meet up and decide to fight crime together. Absolute chaos ensues.

Turns out, bad guys don't like turtles and spiders together very much.

-I NEED TO SAY THAT I AM A SHELLSHOCKED FAN, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE MY BABIES

FIVE MINUTES 'TIL SELF DESTRUCT Even the mightiest of ninja cannot always avoid illness. In Mikey's case, it's the one thing he's never quite been able to dodge. But when a simple cold leaves the family's youngest without a voice, misadventures quickly turn into discoveries as the family bands together. Let the sick days begin

-It's fun, it's VERY good to pass the time, I really liked the narrative and how the brothers interacted

BABY BROTHER When it comes to Mikey

Leo indulges, Raph protects and Donnie teaches

-THEY MAKE ME GO QKAJQIHDJQJANQNDKQLA I LOVE THEM THEY DESERVE THE FUCKING WORLD

TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE HEART Whenever Mikey isn't feeling to great, he'll seek out his older brother.

-I CAN'T I LOVE THEM

I CAN'T HANDLE REJECTION Michelangelo breaks the TV.

-It couldn't all be so fluff, it takes a little bit of a lot of depression to live

WHERE DO WE BEGIN? (the rubble or our sins) Mikey is hit by cuddle pollen, and he and his brothers try to deal with it. (And maybe heal some family wounds along the way.)

-You don't know it's sad until the sad thing comes

ONE MORE NIGHT (please, just for tonight) The night before his big trip, Mikey's brothers stood him up. He pretends he's not hurt about this

-You know you should cry, you didn't because you're a monster.

BE LIKE YOUR BROTHER (and never like yourself) Three times Mikey tried to be like his big brothers.

And one time they told him he didn't have to

-Ah, I could read this a thousand and one times.

WHAT NICOTINE DOES Mikey looks for a way to sleep again without nightmares. He's not doing his best

-Ah, yes, this is me promoting my own fanfic

SONG OF A SUNNY DAY (fading into dusk) The lair has been filled with nothing but the sounds of a heart monitor and quiet. It's too quiet for Mikey, so he goes on a solo run of the city. He finds a violin case on the ground and decides to take it home

-I have love for this story. It was one of the first ones I read and the reason I returned to my love of the violin. Don't look for much angst... they serve it as a main dish

SO HERE'S TO THE HEARTACHE The sequel to "You don't know what love means (and it's killing me)"

-I JUST *CRY INTENSELY*

A CALCULATED PLAN Mourning the loss of splinter, the four turtles struggle to maintain a positive relationship with each other. But when Leo finds a letter saying that Donatello will be the new leader, the divide between the brothers becomes larger.

-HAHAHAHHAHA you are going to suffer so bad

SWAY On an undercover mission to stop a villain’s scheme, one named King Pen who was hosting a party Mikey meets Miles and they have a dance. Let’s sway!

-WOAHHHH I WANT A BOYFRIEND SO HARD *cries*

EMPATHY AMPLIFIED Mikey’s always been one to shoulder his brother’s pain. What happens when the family therapist begins to experience mystic empathy? New powers plus old habits die hard.

-I just... FUCK OFF MAN I READ IT DURING THE NIGHT 'CUZ I HAD A HYPERFIXATION U NEED TO READ THIS

THE SHINOBI'S GARDEN

-Compilation of one-shots of series that I love and will leave here below

DEVIL TOOK YOUR HAND Michelangelo gets ambushed; the Shredder gets another chance to test his mind control serum (I... can't say it)

ALL THE SMALL THINGS An experiment gone wrong de-aged Donnie back into a toddler. Good thing Mikey's great with kids. (ABUBUBUBUAAAHHH I LOVE THEM SM)

RECORD-BREAKING HEAT Losing power overnight may also mean losing your pet cat, if she's made of ice cream (Yeah,... *cry*)

IF WISHES WERE FISHES Raph, Leo and Donnie are quadruplets whose baby brother died the day they were born. When Raphael brings home a new friend with wide blue eyes, a face full of freckles, and a brown belt in karate, the whole family gets a taste of what it might have been like had Michelangelo survived (I just love this story :])

WALK WITH OPEN HANDS Mikey’s head snaps up like a rubber band, so fast it hurts his neck. His father is standing in the doorway, whole and unharmed and strong. He tilts his head, taking in the probably dumb way Mikey is just standing there staring up at him (I'm pretty sure I still don't understand the ending. BUT FUCK, IT'S A WORK OF DAMN ART)

TRAVELING SO FAR TO GET THERE The sound of the apocalypse is a pop number from 1968 by The Foundations. And that’s only because Raphael’s little brother didn’t have the common courtesy to get a decent punk-rock song stuck in his head on the day they fell into this hellscape in the first place. He’s just saying, The Clash or The Offspring or even Fall Out Boy would make more sense, like, thematically. Instead he’s stuck listening to—. “WHY DO YOU BUILD ME UP! BUTTERCUP, BABY, JUST TO LET ME DOWN!". “Mikey,” he yells across the street, “I swear to GOD!” (Long description, and yes, The Foundations became my favorite artists for a week just because of this story)

PROBLEM CHILD Michelangelo has three overprotective big brothers, some questionable friends, a burgeoning need to make himself useful, and a lot of growing up to do. (MY GOSH YOU'RE GONNA LOVE THIS ONE)

I'VE BEEN AFRAID OF CHANGING It’s not fair. Donnie’s so smart. He’s tired and overworked and unhappy, but he’s smart. How can he get this one thing so wrong? How can he not know Mikey as well as he used to, like all of those years of being each other’s best friends and co-conspirators and secret-keepers from where they were relegated to the “B Team” aren’t as intrinsic and important and fundamental to him as they are to Mikey? How can he look at Mikey, right in the face, and not understand him at all?. Something breaks. (I hate myself for thinking the deleted scenes from 2007 were trash)

-And like these stories, she has thousands more, only these are my favorites and they have Mikey in them, but yes, it has Leo and Usagi, Raph and Casey, Donnie being... Donnie i guess

#rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #save rottmnt #mikey hamato #rottmnt michelangelo #fanfic #leo rottmnt #rottmnt donatello #tmnt #mikey tmnt #mikey deserved much more in 2012 #2012 mikey #2012 leo #2012 raph #2012 donnie #Reading recommendations

[callofdudes]

This is going to possibly sound crazy but I just had an epiphany. I don't know if anyone has thought up this idea but I was reading Ghost/Soap posts - you know, the good stuff - and there was an Au idea (I forgot what it was) that really played on their opposites attract trope. Now obviously 'opposites attract' is literally their entire canon relationship. But...

Ghost/Soap Pacific Rim Au.

I don't know if anyone has done this yet but I think the idea would so work for them. The idea that Ghost doesn't like Soap at all. The 141 are a group of four capable men compatible with each other. Gaz and Price are compatible, and Soap and Ghost are compatible.

Ghost has been incompatible for a long time. He's gotten a name around the base exactly because there was only ever one person who was completely drift compatible with Ghost. Until Soap comes along.

Ghost is nothing like Johnny, so he thinks, and tries to avoid him and push him away. "We!? There is no we! I don't know who you think you are but there has never been a we and there never will!"

I like angst so personally I would add just that little bit of extra angst in that Ghost is scared to have a new partner. After a mission gone wrong Ghost lost the only man he could trust. His teammate. The only person he's been compatible with, Roach, was killed. And he blamed himself. And that is partly why he doesn't want another partner, he's scared and angry.

And throughout the whole thing it's just Ghost and Soap trying to work around each other to make their job fluent. And eventually Ghost doesn't hate Johnny so much. And then he enjoys Johnny. And suddenly the idea of Johnny isn't so threatening.

And there are a lot of heart to hearts and just enough angst to make it acceptable.

I can picture Ghost and Soap getting into trouble on a mission and Ghost gets in his own head and Soap has to get him out. Like Ghost is reliving his trauma and Johnny is the only thing that is comforting or familiar and he doesn't understand why. And then the unbearable feeling of uncontrollable hatred becomes something different so foreign Ghost can't handle it. (He's in love that's what it is)

The kind of compatibility that makes your stomach flip when the person looks at you. And it's just the two of them navigating both themselves and each other to eventually come to a place where they are physically, psychologically and emotionally compatible. Comfort on comfort with angst.

I don't remember the last time I watched Pacific Rim but on Graves dead body I need this even if I have to write it myself.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #writing #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #pacific rim au #just some thoughts for these two

[m00nc4kes]

A Chance. pt 2. (pacific rim! au)

hobie brown x gn!reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: You and Hobie drift for the first time.

warnings: me being inconsistent with hobie's accent (pls I tried), death, blood, mostly from the memories

notes: once again, reader is gn but if I gendered anything lemme know! my readers are always black coded even if its not said outright but anyone can read :3

[part 1] [part 2] (ur here lolol)

Apparently, the sparring match had been the easy part. Convincing Hobie to actually drift with you was the hard part.

Jess had approved you and Hobie to begin drifting, but he had shut it down immediately.

“No. Absolutely not. And ‘m not goin’ back ‘n forth with ya.” Was all he said before shutting himself in his room. You sat in front of his door and complained about him acting like a stubborn child.

“C’mon! Jess said that we stood a chance!”

“That means nothin’ to me,'' came the muffled reply. You sighed and leaned your head on the metal frame of the door.

“You’re not even a little curious about what goes on in my head?” You paused then grinned. “You don’t wanna know what makes me tick?”

“Coulda sworn I said I wasn’t goin’ back ‘n forth with ya.”

You kissed your teeth and rested your head on your knees. “Fine, fine. I’ll just sit here then!” you shouted then muttered, “All night. In the cold…” You allowed yourself to trail off as your dramatics continued to climb. “I’ll just be wonderin’ why my potential drift partner hates me—”

A loud click sounded behind you and the door creaked open. Hobie peered down at you with an unamused expression. “I never said I hated ya.”

“But you did say you weren’t gonna go back ‘n forth with me.” Hobie’s scoff had you climbing to your feet. You continued, “Won’t you at least give it a chance? We won’t even be going out into the field— just inside Hellion.”

“And you’ll be in my head,” he snapped, then caught himself with a grimace. “Why do ya feel the need to push it, hm? Can’t take no for an answer or somethin’?”

“No. I can’t.” You couldn’t stop your face from contorting into a scowl as you snarked, “Why are you even here if you don’t plan on drifting with anyone?”

“I already told ya—”

“Well, I don’t believe you.”

Hobie threw his hands up, signaling that he had nothing else to say, and stepped back behind his door. “Goodnight.”

Before he could completely shut the door, you pushed your hand against it. Your mind had been struggling to find an answer to why you didn’t completely believe Hobie. His reasoning didn’t fit his character. If he was truly done being a pilot, he would’ve just left. If he was concerned about his friends risking their lives, he would find a way to convince them to leave with him. 

No, this was much much more personal than that. And he had already told you his reasoning: to make sure no one else pilots Hellion Riser.

“You don’t want anyone to replace Karl.”

That stopped Hobie completely in his tracks. He stared at you as if the words slapped him in the face. You had a horrible habit of pushing people’s buttons; sometimes you did it on purpose, while other times you couldn’t stop your mouth from moving.

“I’m not trying to replace him, Hobie, I swear it. I could never erase what you guys had— what you two did. Hell, y'all set records. I just—”

Hobie put his hand up to stop you. “I’d rather not have this chat outside.” His door creaked as he motioned you inside.

When the door closed behind you, you were met with the sight of Hobie’s covered walls. There were some posters of well known rock bands from before the war and newspaper clippings of different kaiju attacks. You wondered if they had some significance to him. Though, what had caught your eye was a sticker-covered guitar leaned up against Hobie’s nightstand.

“So, d’ya have a habit of bein’ an arse or is that jus’ wit’ me?” Hobie sat himself on his bed and crossed his arms. You stared down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“An arse? Me? Never.” You trailed your eyes along the newspaper clippings until one caught your eye. “I’m just… stubborn.” You tried to keep a steady tone but your mind had already traveled somewhere far away.

In your peripheral, you could see Hobie shift to see what you were looking at. “You have a personal history with Steelcutter, mate?”

You blinked yourself back into the present and stepped away from the wall, needing to physically distance yourself from the image. As you observed the clippings, their purpose suddenly made sense.

“These are all kaijus that Hellion has taken down.” It was a statement, no question about it.

“Yep. Majority of ‘em are from the old pilots.” He tilted his head. “You dodgin’ my question?”

“Yep,” you mocked, looking him up and down. You opened your mouth to continue, but it suddenly struck you that you were in fact alone in Hobie’s room. And he was staring at you with those champagne eyes of his and— 

No, no, no. You weren’t going to entertain that anymore. You had one goal and he was actively stopping you from reaching it. Past infatuation had no place here. It hadn’t had one in a long time and it wouldn’t get one now. 

Ignoring the heat burning at your cheeks, you cleared your throat. “So about the drift—”

“You were right, y’know.”

You felt your words die on your lips. “I… what?”

“I don’t want anyone to replace Karl. They couldn’t if they tried. But that’s only part of it.”

You blinked owlishly. You hadn’t expected him to be so outright with it.

He continued, “I don’t want to watch anyone else I care about die.”

“We don’t even know each other like that—”

“Yet.” He stood up. “That’s the part ya keep overlookin’. I’ll be finding out everything about you. I’ll be in your head and you’ll be in mine. Ya won’t get out of that without at least carin’ a little. That’s the whole point of a drift partner. Ya pilot the jaeger together, ya fight together, and ya expect to die together. I won’t get outta carin’ for ya and ya won’t get outta carin’ for me. Get it?”

Hobie’s words were passionate, borderline desperate for you to understand. And you were beginning to understand. You chewed on his words for a moment, letting the air settle. “But you enjoyed having that partner, didn’t you? You enjoyed fighting alongside him and allowing someone to be that intertwined with you, right? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“It’s not tha’ simple.”

“Of course not. But every relationship comes with the risk of an ending. Avoiding companionship altogether will make you miserable, especially when you’re itching to go back into the field.”

An indignant laugh left Hobie’s lips. “And who told ya I wanted to go back?”

“You still train— which is how you beat me during the trials; and you don’t seem like someone who lets people die in vain. Don’t you wanna show those fuckin’ kaijus where they can stick it? Don’t you want revenge for Karl?”

There had always been a muted fire behind Hobie’s eyes. The embers of the flames would dance around his irises, refusing to turn into ash. Though, under his appraisal, you could see the blazing inferno that you had sparked. 

It made you think that your insistence had pushed Hobie too far over the edge. Maybe your luck had run out.

To your surprise, Hobie backed down and released a heavy sigh as he plopped onto his bed. He dragged a hand down his face before asking, “D’ya have any confessions?”

You frowned. “Confessions?”

“Confessions, mate. Anything you’d like to tell me before I find out against your will?”

Your heart stopped in your chest. Disbelief rose in you like a climbing rollercoaster. “...you don’t mean…”

He gave you a look that told you everything you needed to know. He raised a finger. “We’ll try it once and only once. Let’s see if Jess knows wha’ she’s talkin’ about.”

The news about you drifting with Hobie spread like a wildfire. It morphed into a bigger event than you had anticipated. There were whispers about Hellion Riser finally becoming active again, while the in-your-face doubters approached you around every corner. The doubters were either shut down by some not-so-kind words or, to your complete and utter surprise, Hobie flat out telling them to shut the fuck up before there was a problem.

His reluctance to completely accept you as his partner was still present, but he didn’t seem too fond of other people sharing that same sentiment. 

The day came when Hellion was ready for you two to test your compatibility. The nerves shook you to your core; even your steadying breaths couldn’t calm your racing heart.

There were people around you helping make sure your suit fit your frame properly. Beside you, Hobie was receiving the same treatment. You watched as he opened and closed his fist with some sort of fascination. 

His eyes suddenly flicked toward you and he gave you a small grin. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

Your grin was strained. “I just might.” 

Before you could say another word, a helmet was being placed in your hands. You put it on while the people around you adjusted it for you.

Then, you were led into the jaeger where the workers left you and Hobie to get situated. Hobie was quieter than usual as he made his way to the right side.

“Are you nervous?” you asked. You hated how meek you sounded

“Nervous?” The laugh that came from him was curt. “‘M fuckin’ terrified.”

The simulators had nothing on the real thing. Colorful displays and illuminated buttons hovered in front of your place in the jaeger. 

Across from you, Hobie took the first step into the footholds and the machine automatically adjusted to his stature. He watched you expectantly and it made you bite the bullet.

You stepped into your foothold and several things occurred at once. The machine attached to your back to hold you in place then your wrists went through the same process, though they had more free reign than your back. 

There was sudden laughter in your ears and you whipped your head around to see Hobie with an amused smile on his face. 

“What’s so funny?” you snarked, already knowing that he was laughing at you. 

“Your boat, that’s what.”

“My boat?” 

“Your face, bruv.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never had something attached to my spine before!” Your face cringed at the thought which made him snicker.

An automated voice cut through your banter. 

Pilots on board and ready to connect.

In your helmet, you could hear Hobie take a deep breath as he reached forward to flip a few switches.

Next, Jess’s voice came through the speaker. “Alright, you two, we’re preparing for the neural handshake.”

It was really happening. Your heart was in your throat and you wondered if you were truly ready for this. To let someone— Hobie in your head. Could you handle something like that?

“Oi, bruv. Don’t go chasin’ R.A.B.I.T.s, got it? Just let ‘em flow past you, don’t let ‘em stay.”

Right, right. Rabbits. Some long ass acronym for memories. “Okay. Okay, I can do that.”

Neural interface Drift initiated.

Flashes upon flashes of memories that didn’t belong to you flooded into your mind. Voices and unintelligible whispers whipped past your ears. 

You could see a smaller Hobie learning guitar from his mother. You felt the love and pride he had when he did something right. But then, you felt his desperation when his mother succumbed to alcohol.

You felt how he’d wondered what he did wrong to be neglected the way he was.

Then, memories that had been buried long ago were being unveiled before your eyes. Your parents cradling you as an infant, Your giggles as they made their silly faces.

You, as a toddler, wandering a desecrated city street. Ash and glass littered the street as you walked with a thumb in your mouth.

The memories clashed and overlapped with each other. Hobie’s time in the foster care system; you being taken in by an aunt; Hobie being accepted into the jaeger program— all of it. Moments you cherished like your introduction to being a jaeger technician and seeing Hobie for the first time.

You had admired him from afar. Someone who piloted your favorite jaeger and did it with pride. 

And when he spoke to you for the first time, your head had spun in circles and your mouth couldn’t keep up with it. 

Then, you saw Karl. 

You saw Hobie and Karl meeting for the first time during the trials. Saw them reading their results and becoming drift partners— becoming best friends. You could feel the love they had for one another, how much they cared about each other. They were inseparable. Hobie would throw an arm over Karl’s shoulder and they would share a joke no one but them understood.

Karl was his best friend.

With a sharp breath, you were back in reality. 

Right hemisphere calibrated.

Sharing a mind with someone was beyond jarring. You could hear the echoes of thoughts coming from Hobie, but none were coherent. Just feelings. You wondered if your mind was just about the same.

Left hemisphere calibrated.

You raised your right arm, perfectly in sync with Hobie, then raised your left. Together, Hellion Riser raised both of her fists in a battle stance.

Ready to activate the Jaeger.

A thought that didn’t belong to you streamlined through your mind and you laughed. Without a moment of hesitation, Hellion was raising two middle fingers.

A very unamused Jess cut through the speaker. “Very mature, you guys.”

Her displeasure only made your guys’ laughter bubble from your chests and echo into the cockpit.

Calibration complete. 

There was something familiar about laughing with him. Something that didn’t belong to you.

Because it didn’t.

You weren’t in the present anymore.

“Did you see how I fucking blasted him, dude?” You were Karl Morningdew. No, you were Hobie. Fuck, it didn’t matter. They were sharing a mind. You were both of them. 

“Bloke didn’t see it comin’!” Hobie had laughed, pride shining in his grin, and Karl joined him. 

They thought the job was done, but the kaiju had disappeared in the waters below them. Hobie had been the first to notice.

“Oi, where the fuck did it—”

Hellion was being slammed against, nearly toppling the jaeger over. “Fuck! How’s it still going?!”

Claws dug into the cockpit and they both screamed. You could feel their bewilderment and their fear— because jaegers weren’t supposed to be torn into like this. It wasn’t supposed to be possible. 

“We need to get it off!” Hobie had attempted to do so, but it had been too late.

With another swing, the kaiju tore into the right side and pulled Karl out.

You felt it all. Your senses were drowned with panic, panic, panic. Disbelief. And oh, the grief hit like a truck. It was hot in your hands— sent frigid chills down your spine.

And it hurt. 

Being thrown back into reality sent your mind into a flurry. It came with ringing alarms and a distressed Jess. 

“Hellion! You are out of alignment!”

You could hear Hobie apologizing— you could feel his grief clawing at him. At you. You’d felt like that before. You had. 

Then you’d heard him calling your name. Telling you not to chase the rabbit.

You were confused. 

What rabbit? 

You and Riri never had a rabbit. In fact, a rabbit never crossed your mind as you two walked down the city street.

New York City was a place. A place you called home. It was filled to the brim with people that narrowly dodged each other on the sidewalk. Cars honked at each other nonstop and music played from somewhere you didn’t care to check.

Beside you, Riri nudged your side. “Hey, cousin. Whatchu think ‘bout this move?” 

And in the middle of the sidewalk, she broke out in the butterfly dance. She moved her legs in a smooth in and out motion. Being fourteen, you were absolutely horrified that she was breaking out into a dance in public.

“Riri! Stoooppp!” you cried, shaking her arm. With her being two years your senior, she absolutely reveled in embarrassing you.

“Whaaat? I’m just dancin’!” 

You had to avert your eyes as she began to tootsie roll. “I’m gonna tell Teetee that you’re using her lessons for evil!” 

“You’re gonna tell my mom?!” She screeched. You laughed in her face as she playfully pushed you.

Everything stopped when the world started shaking. Your first thought was an earthquake, but the look on Riri’s face stopped you in your tracks. “What? What is it, cousin?” you pleaded.

The sound of screaming cut through the air then you were being pushed around by people running for their lives. You couldn’t tell what was happening but there was a dark cloud of destruction in the opposite direction.

Riri roughly yanked your arm and dragged you with the crowd. You wanted to ask what was going on, but a deep fear in your gut told you everything you needed to know. 

Jets flew overhead, shooting missiles at the kaiju that was dragging itself through the city.

Through it all, you couldn’t help but get the inkling that someone was trying to get your attention. Muffled words bounced off your mind as fear clouded it. 

The kaiju moved faster than you two could run, even with its long, slow steps that destroyed everything under its feet. You made the mistake of looking back.

The cloud of destruction couldn’t hide the grotesque thing from you any longer. It walked on all fours and was covered in a monstrous variety of spikes. It dragged itself through the street, tearing through buildings and bringing a storm of glass down upon its victims.

And it was nearly upon you. You wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

The terror took hold of your legs and you fell to your stomach. Riri tried to get you back up, but you couldn’t hear her desperate pleas over your screams. You were going to die. And there wasn’t anything you could refute that with.

What you hadn’t expected was your cousin to shield your body with hers.

The rain of glass sliced open your arms and any other part of your body it could reach. However, Riri took the full brunt of it.

The kaiju walked past you two, destroying what it could over the incessant attacks from the jets. All the while, you watched Riri’s life fade from her eyes as she collapsed on top of you.

You laid there, too scared to move. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’d wake up from your nightmare. But the glass that stuck itself into Riri’s body was all too real to even consider this a dream.

So you silently cried, too scared to cry any louder. Though, your weeping came to a solid halt when another pair of giant footsteps raced through the city. Was it another kaiju? Why was there another one?

Instead, a brilliant red and blue jaeger raced from the darkness and stopped the kaiju from causing any more destruction.

You couldn’t help but think: thank god. Because if the jaeger hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be able to scream and beg for Riri to—

Wake up!

The breath that you forced into your lungs dragged you back into reality. Your helmet had been discarded somewhere else and Hobie was holding you. His face was relieved when you finally looked him in the eye.

“You’re okay. It was just a memory. Just a memory,” he whispered to you. You could feel the tears burn in your eyes. Not only from the fresh memory buzzing around your head, but from the frustration of it all.

You fucked up.

And that disappointment followed you throughout the rest of the day. Everything had passed in a blur and somehow you found yourself here, sitting in the catwalk above Hellion. The base was deep into its night hours, with very few people still out and about. Unfortunately, you were one of them.

You hadn’t expected to be so shaken up, by why wouldn’t you? The last memory of Riri hadn’t been a pleasant one and it haunted your every move. Now Hobie knew it too.

You had one shot and you blew it.

There were footsteps heading in your direction. When you looked up, you saw the last person you wanted to see. Instead of greeting Hobie, you tucked your head in your arms and curled your knees close to your chest.

“That’s one way to say hello, innit.” Hobie’s voice did things to your soul that you hadn’t expected. Being in his head, knowing what made him who he was, gave you an entirely new outlook on who Hobie Brown was. 

Hobie had been right. You can’t be inside someone’s head and expect not to care about them. But you didn’t need the drift for it to be established, no, all it did was build upon the foundation that was already there. 

And you weren’t ready to deal with that yet. Nor ever.

Hobie came close to you, standing instead of sitting beside you. “Still shaken up?”

You clicked your tongue and let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“I don’t hold it against ya, it was your first time.”

“And my only time.” You let bitterness seep into your voice while your nails dug into your arms. 

There was a sigh above you, then Hobie was sliding down to sit next to you. You could only focus on the way the side of his body pressed against yours and it did things to your heart.

“It was unrealistic to think nothin’ would go wrong our first time.” He leaned his head against the railing. “You weren’t the only one who messed up. I messed up first.”

You moved your head to peek at him. He stared off into the distance and you watched his eyes jump from place to place until they landed on you. 

Being under his gaze made you shy and you hated that it reverted you back to your intern days. Your ears burned and you tore your eyes away. His laugh was kind and far from teasing. It only made the heat flare in your cheeks.

When his laughter died down, you two sat in a comfortable silence. Once you were able to get over Hobie’s proximity, your mind traveled back to Riri. You didn’t know if your somberness had leached into the atmosphere, but Hobie ended up nudging you.

“It’s not your fault, ya know tha’, right?”

You raised your head. “What isn’t?”

“Your cousin.”

You took in a sharp breath. “Is that so?” your voice wobbled, but you held firm. “I could’ve—”

“You did what you could.”

You wanted to get defensive, you wanted to deny him because what did he know? But he knew a lot. He’d seen it. He’d seen your moment of weakness and your failure and still said it wasn’t your fault. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you wouldn’t cry for the umpteenth time today. You did what you could. And that was nothing. You couldn’t do anything but be protected. 

Hobie placed a hand on your arm and squeezed it gently. It was a warm touch that sent your soul into a delightful spiral. 

You wanted to say something, but everything died on your tongue. You just knew that there was no use in trying to argue with Hobie. 

Instead, you smiled as you were reminded of something. “So you dream of being a rockstar?”

Hobie practically blinded you with his smile. “Everyday, mate. Gonna start a band after the war.”

“You already have people in mind?”

“Course! Got me a drummer and a few youngers lookin' to rock out.” 

You muttered to yourself, “After the war, huh.” You were glad that Hobie was looking forward to something after the war— even if you doubted that the kaijus would be defeated in your lifetime. 

“Yep. Which is why Hellion is gonna stick it to those fuckin’ kaijus.”

Your eyes widened. “Wha— You actually want to try again?”

“Second time’s a charm.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

“It is now. D’ya want to try or not?”

By this point, you had unfurled from your position and you were openly staring at Hobie. “I— Well, yeah! I wanna try again.”

“Good.” He rose to his feet and dragged you up with him. “We’re gonna need rest if that’s the case.”

There was something about the blaze in his eyes that told you that it was never anger. No, it was the burning desire to fight. To put an end to the war so he could live his life without fear. To be free.

He threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close. “Don’ worry. I won’t bring up the fact that you fancy me.” He poked your cheek and you could’ve sworn you were gonna faint from the sudden rush of blood to your face. “Not yet, at least.”

Steam could’ve risen from your cheeks and you wouldn’t have questioned it. 

Hobie openly laughed as you batted him away. There was no way you were gonna get away with hiding it. He was in your head and you were stuck with him now.

You had asked for a chance and he gave it to you.

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taglist: @hobieszeze

thanks for reading you guys ^^ i can’t say for sure if i’ll write another part but i’ll be focusing on my molotov fic !!

#hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #atsv #pacific rim au #across the spiderverse #spider punk #writing

[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'

#now this is a total lark and definitely never getting written even a little #but I had fun #I don't know why this has become the weekend of sharing AU ideas but here we are #ted lasso #pacific rim au #ask box #i swear i worked on real writing today I just need a break