A New War - A Gundam RWBY reader Insert

A Perfect War

Last time on "A New War"

Ironwood paused, then nodded. He waved over a nearby officer.

Ironwood: Prep transport to Beacon Academy. We leave in ten.

The officer saluted and rushed off. Ironwood turned back to Y/n, his tone as sharp as ever.

Ironwood: If this Char Aznable becomes a threat to the people of Remnant... I will put him down.

Y/n: Hey, I saw him first. He's mine.

The two stood in silence for a beat longer, the quiet humming of the command room once again becoming the backdrop to war drums beginning to beat in the distance. Outside the walls of the facility, the winds of change stirred—and somewhere, beyond satellites and scanners, sapphire blue eyes watched the world from behind a cracked silver mask.

???: I never finished what was supposed to happen...this world will serve as my testing ground, and that Y/n L/n won't get in my way.

This time on "A New War"

Y/n: Don't worry, General. You'll get your turn. But I've got history with the guy. It's kind of a tradition at this point—he shows up in a fancy red suit, makes a mess, I clean it up with mild property damage and emotional trauma. Everybody wins.

Ironwood: I'm not in the business of letting war criminals roam free for the sake of your personal vendettas.

Y/n: Oh, no, no. This is very professional. I promise. The vendetta part's just... heavily seasoned with personal trauma. Makes it spicy.

Ironwood turned to walk toward the exit and Y/n followed at a casual pace, hands in his pockets like they were on a field trip.

Ironwood: If this is how you handle every world-ending threat, were doomed.

Y/n: Hey, I stopped him once and I'll do it again.

They stepped into the hallway again, the doors sliding shut behind them. The command room faded into the dull echo of boots and banter.

Ironwood: I need to speak with Ozpin about coordinating a wider security net. If Char's using the White Fang, we may have infiltration in every major kingdom.

Y/n: Great, more fun surprises. What's next, a robot revolution? Grimmbots? Wait—do not steal that name. I'm trademarking it.

Ironwood: Gods above, you talk more than Qrow when he's drunk.

Y/n: I don't know who that is but I feel like we would get along.

They reached a lift and Ironwood swiped his ID to call it. As they waited, Y/n leaned against the wall, staring at the dull lighting above.

Y/n: So, real talk—how much trouble am I in?

Ironwood: On a scale of 'stern warning' to 'thrown into a hole in the ground'? Let's just say it depends on how this whole situation goes.

Y/n: So... medium-hole potential?

Ironwood: Deep hole. With a lid.

Y/n: Got it. Deep hole diplomacy. I'm familiar with the type.

The elevator doors chimed open. They stepped inside, and for a moment, the two stood in silence. Then Y/n tilted his head toward Ironwood.

Y/n: So... you ever think about growing a beard?

Ironwood raised an eyebrow.

Ironwood: What?

Y/n: You know, to complete the whole "grizzled general" aesthetic. I feel like you'd look pretty badass with some gray stubble. Very war-worn but still dignified vibes.