#PACRIM au

[hyalinemin]

[hcnnibal]

pacific rim au 💥

[mcdadarts]

Here's Eddie and Steve from @corrodedbisexual's pacrim AU Love, Drift & Monsters (part of the @steddiebang Steddie Big Bang)

I had the most fun working on this. Expect more work for this AU.

[mispronouncing-michaelangelo]

yunmech jiang or whatever

[showmink]

Happy (late) Valentine's Day to @wolviecat, who asked for sci-fi Lams - Pacific Rim AU, anyone?

@hamevents2024

[dickpuncherdraws]

“Ranger Nakayama,” says Marshal Piandao. “I’m glad to see you made it here in one piece. Welcome to Hong Kong.”

“Um, thank you, sir,” Zuko says. “It’s an honour to be here.”

Piandao’s eyes crinkle in what Zuko recognizes as a smile. “I’d like you to meet Ranger Aang Gyatso,” he says, and inclines his head in the direction of the man standing next to him. “Your co-pilot.”

—

With the Jaeger Program nearing the end of its life, the Pan Pacific Defense Corps brings in Zuko Nakayama, ex-Jaeger pilot, as a last-ditch effort. His role is simple: to act as co-pilot for the newly restored Avatar Fury, and hopefully bring an end to the Kaiju War, once and for all.

For day 1 of @zukkaweek 2023: Modern AU.

[fryingpan1234567]

putting the 141, who is already military, into sub-military aus is so special to me

Top Gun au so I can put them in planes. dope ass painted flight helmets with their callsigns across the back. Laswell and her wife own a bar that the boys like to frequent and cause trouble in. also an excuse to stick them on the California coast

Halo au because SPARTAN ARMOR?? alien warfare?? mostly the armor HELP I just wanna give Gaz a giant energy sword please

PacRim au to put them in giant robots. and so I can fuck w drift compatibility. bomber jackets with their names and jaeger insignias stitched on the sleeves and backs. bullying recruits who just wanna punch aliens. I know this one’s already been written (AMAZING fic do check it out) but still it’s everything

Avatar au because… what’s not to love? giant blue aliens with guns and pterodactyls and floating mountains?? yeah dude I am ALL in (I’m also kinda writing this if you wanna see sooo)

SCP au simply because that would be so fucking funny. “goddamn it people are going missing at IKEA again let’s fuckin move out I guess” “IF THAT FUCKING PEANUT BREACHES CONTAINMENT ONE MORE FUCKING TIME—“ “huh this house sure is weird I hope none of us get turned into code and lag out of existence” LIKE CAN YOU IMAGINE

Monsterverse because I think seeing Ghost’s reaction to Godzilla crawling out of a mountain and turning pink would just… cure me. Price has sympathy for the monsters but also just wants to protect all the humans in their path. Soap LOVES all of them (Mothra is his personal favorite) and punched a higher-up who suggested bombing a recently discovered nest one time. Gaz is mostly just in awe of them all, but they also give him anxiety because just one of them could flatten an entire house with one step. they be vibin

Jurassic World because my dinosaur fixation started when I was four and never went away. I’ll fight all of you. raptor trainer Ghost?? paleoveterinarian Soap who’s friends with all the dinos?? head of security Price and head park management Gaz?? please (I’m also writing this one)

like yes. they still do the military thing. but slightly to the left. I could do it all day

[yuwuta]

pacrim au yuuta: why let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband?

LOLLL yes exactly…. your boyfriend is of no consequence to yuuta. he became a pilot to save people, and he saved you—he and rika were the ones who pulled your body out the rubble and brought you back to life. you’re his little miracle, how could he leave your care up to anybody else? 😇

let me say tho that reader having a boyfriend who isn’t yuuta is intentional in the grand scheme of things—it’s supposed to be a point of conflict for yuuta being a pilot, not necessarily because of his romantic feelings. pilots are supposed to be the good people, the ones who sacrifice everything and risk their lives to save others, who are given the great responsibility of controlling expensive mega-robots because the average person can’t. they’re the heros, the good guys, the angels—they’re not supposed to lust after civilians, much less those who are already taken, but yuuta’s starting to wonder why he should follow what’s right when there’s something better in front of him

it’s not just yuuta that takes to you, though. rika has always been an usual mech—hushed whispers about how it’s haunted, how it was cruel of her family to build and name a mech after their deceased daughter and ask her crush to be its pilot—but she seems alive more than ever lately. inexplainable auto-pilot movements when you’re around, her core chamber lighting up and powering when you touch it, her hand moving to catch you when you trip near the edge of a lift on the hangar, despite no pilot being inside, sudden steam and crying pipes when you’re too close to your boyfriend and not yuuta. it makes the other pilots wonder—is yuuta possessive over you because of rika, or is rika seemingly possessive over you because of yuuta?

yuuta would never say it out loud, but part of him likes how helpless you are during your recovery. he wants you to get better, to feel better, of course, but the less innocent part of him likes that you need him; that you have a wide, doe-eyed admiration of him for being the brave pilot who saved your life. he likes spoon-feeding you while you’re too weak to do it yourself, likes you calling him to have him help you walk three feet to the bathroom, likes that you wait for him to have lunch and sit pretty watching him during his sparring training. he’s grown awful fond of having you wait on him, he wouldn’t mind if it took a little longer for you to get better. he knows that his job as a pilot is meant to be obsolete—that the goal is the rid the world of its dangerous, so make it a safe space so that humanity isn’t dependent on giant robots and pilots, so maybe having you here like this is the remedy to that. he’d do whatever it takes to rid the world of its monsters if it meant taking care of you for the rest of his life

[sigskk]

sooo i started thinking about pacific rim again

[ID: A traditional drawing of Sigma from Bungo Stray Dogs on lined paper, wearing a drivesuit from Pacific Rim. The drivesuit resembles a mecha-style suit of armor. His full body is shown, standing and leaning more onto his right leg. His right arm is awkwardly sitting near his waist, and his left hand is brushing his bangs from his face. The plates of armor are white, whereas the suit underneath is black. He's looking off to the right with a neutral expression. End ID.]

[bugborgs]

the tinted helmet glass helps hide the blushing

[fzjp]

First Meet

Rinsagi Pacific Rim Au

[trashpocket]

((excerpt taken from Plain White Beach Houses // part 3 of "Impossible Things and the Tin Can" by gibbouslunation ))

more pacrim steddie for tumblr, cause this series that i threw ideas with at myk (the author) has severely killed me

[bignostalgias]

I was already having a pretty normal one yesterday and @hijacksecrets fantastic art and concept and @grahminradarin’s comment on this post made me even normaler. Y’all are so smart

[basket-of-loquats]

Little doodle of tae for mine and @rainechiime ‘s pacrim au :]

[image description: a digital drawing of Kim Taehyung dressed in athletic wear holding a quarter staff. The background is aqua. End ID.]

[coiled-dragon]

//Matchmade//

Benson+Randy - Stockroom Syndrome Mature Tags: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim, Pre-Slash, Sparring

Benson Boudreaux is a veteran Jaeger pilot with a 100% kill rate in the Jaeger 'Savage Horizon'. The problem is he never keeps a Drift partner for long.

[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.