86 x Fem!Reader
synopsis: Y/n in the world of eighty six. That's it.
Warnings: Reader is still a child, angst, death, cursing, ooc, not lore accurate. wc: 1.4k notes: just some long brain rot scenarios.
It had been some time since your last reassignment.
Now, you found yourself stationed with the infamous Spearhead Squadron—the so-called final destination for the 86.
You’d been placed under the Second Platoon, led by none other than Lieutenant Raiden Shuga.
A new unit. A new battlefield. But the same war.
'At least people here are a little more human,'
you thought, eyes following the stars, as colder memories clawed at the edges of your mind. Squadrons where names didn't exist—only numbers.
Where orders weren't spoken, but spat like venom.
You were the youngest here.
And so, as with every unit before, they gave you a "safer" role—though in this world, safe was just another fantasy. Like freedom. Like hope.
Then came the codename: Crimson Petal.
Maybe it was your eyes—vivid and strange, out of place in this world of steel and smoke but never mind that.
Today, as the San Magnolia major cackled over the Para-RAID like it was some comedy broadcast, your expression never changed. Not even when the voices of the pigs bled through—those smug, distant voices that knew you were all going to die.
And some of you did.
But the rest survived. Like always. Barely.
Did you get to mourn? To grieve those who were gone?
No.
There wasn't time.
There never was.
At some point, you realized—maybe everyone in this unit had already cracked. Because no normal person would be laughing right now like nothing had happened.
But that's how it worked here. You didn't show it. Not the fear. Not the grief. Not the bone-deep exhaustion.
If you wanted to survive, you had to look fine—even while your soul was bleeding out through the seams.
You were only a kid, and yet you had already seen the world for what it truly was.
Cruel. Cold. Efficient.
That maturity—twisted and forged by war—earned you a strange kind of respect. Genius, some called you.
"At what cost?"
you would often wonder.
not even teen yet, you already understood the rhythm of battle. You could read the ebb and flow of war like a second language. Even Shin, the Reaper himself, shared insights with you sometimes. Because you got it. You understood.
And your skills? That was something else entirely.
You moved your Juggernaut like it was an extension of your own body. That scared people. Even your own squad mates sometimes.
You were becoming the perfect weapon.
From a distance, you watched the others in the yard, clustered together. Laughter cracked the air.
"Ah, Y/n’s off in her own world again," Kaie called, voice warm and teasing.
Startled from your thoughts, you blinked. Several eyes were on you now—watching. You hadn’t even noticed.
You tilted your head, lips curling into that familiar, unreadable smile.
“Did it look that obvious?”
Theo grinned.
“If you keep using your brain like that, you’ll turn into a granny before me.”
You let out a small laugh—soft and effortless, like the wind slipping through a cracked window.
“You might be right.”
This was how it always was. You stayed light. Detached. Let everything roll off you like water from glass.
And maybe it was that unshakable calm, that unbothered grace, that made them all the more curious about you.
But even petals bleed, don’t they?
Your gaze wandered back to the group—bickering, laughing, distracting themselves from the unknown.
You knew this was fragile. Temporary. You’d learned not to grow too attached.
People vanished too quickly here.
Raiden passed by and gave you a nod. Not much, just a small dip of the head—but it said what words didn’t. 'You okay?'
You nodded back. That was your answer.
From behind, you heard Kurena groan. “Ugh, who asked Theo for his opinion again?”
“He gives it freely,” Anju replied, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Theo scoffed, arms crossed. “Just trying to keep Y/n back here, before she floats off and forgets we exist again.”
You turned slightly, your tone sweet as ever. “I could never forget you,” you said, smile widening just a touch.
“Your voice is like those background noise. Always there.”
Laughter broke out—genuine. A sound that didn’t belong in this world, yet somehow survived anyway.
For a moment—just a moment—you forgot, too. That you were born into this life by force, not choice. That to the Republic, you weren’t a soldier. Just a body. A tool. A shadow of a name they never bothered to learn.
Still, you sat with them.
In the warmth. In the laughter. In the illusion.
Just for now.
------
You were in the thick of it—the battlefield a storm of smoke, metal, and blood.
Your group?
They were perishing.
The major? Gone. After that cruel, mocking laugh, he abandoned you all and vanished from the Para-RAID like a ghost.
"Walpurgis! Respond, damn it!" Chise—codename Griffen—shouted, his voice slicing through the static crackling in your ear, thick with panic.
'At this rate, we’re all going to die,' you thought, your muscles tense as you pushed away from the annoying legions closing in.
Then, something clicked.
Eyes flicked to the map, tracing the enemy formation.
“Hah... it’s a fucking trap.” You muttered under your breath.
'But how? How do you get everyone out of this alive?'
'Is escape even possible?'
The question hung heavy in your mind, drifting away from the chaos for a split second— You didn’t notice the Löwe creeping up behind you—until a shot rang out, tearing through it.
"Wehrwolf to Crimson Petal! Stop zoning out!"
The command cut through the Para-RAID like a whip. You snapped back to attention.
“Noted. Apologies.” Your voice was tight, but still shaky—too raw to fully steady.
Your mind raced. Pieces scattered everywhere, trying to connect, to deduce the impossible.
'damn it! How? Exactly how?'
'If only there was some enigmatic figure—someone to draw the legions eyes away, to buy us time.'
But glancing at your allies’ formation, it hit you hard—they hadn’t even noticed the trap.
'Ah dang it,'
You sighed heavily. And then, as if some fragile thread inside you finally snapped, a wide, almost unhinged smile stretched across your face.
'Right... I’m pretty sure this will work out.'
"It's fine... It’s fine..." you whispered to yourself, voice steady despite the storm raging inside.
Because you already knew the truth.
You were the only one who could stop this.
You took a slow, deliberate breath, fingers tightening on your weapon.
“ Right... I’ll become that enigmatic figure.”
With those words, you surged forward.
Behind you, your team’s voices faded, swallowed by the chaos—too tangled in their own fight to even notice the trap they’d stumbled into.
And only in that cruel, late second did they finally realize.
“It’s a trap! Everyone who can move, retreat!” Shin’s voice cut through the static —but you had already predicted this moment.
Now, desperation rippled through the squad as they struggled to break free from the tightening grip of the legions.
The Para-RAID exploded with frantic shouts as the truth sank in.
“Crimson Petal’s charging into the Legion’s line?! What the hell—?” Raiden’s voice cracked with disbelief, desperation bleeding through every word. “This isn’t part of the plan!”
“Damn it... she’s walking straight to death. Someone—anyone—cover her!”
But no one could reach you in time.
The legions closed in, and Crimson Petal became nothing more than a fading silhouette swallowed by the storm of smoke and fire.
Theo’s voice trembled, raw panic breaking through. “Crimson Petal, pull back! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Then, slowly, the pieces clicked into place.
The attention of the legions were now focused on you. on your juggernaut.
Raiden’s voice softened, thick with disbelief.
“She’s buying us time. Damn it, Y/n...!”
“Undertaker to Crimson Petal—retreat. That’s an order.” Shin’s voice cracked with desperation.
That alone made you smile a little. A quiet, bitter chuckle slipped through.
“Didn’t think I’d hear you panic, sir reaper.”
Then, your voice came through the Para-RAID.
“…Don’t stop. Just keep moving. I’ll take care of myself.”
A metallic click followed—your gun, locked and ready. The sound echoed.
Then, your signal vanished.
On their radars, your name disappeared.
And almost as if the world had paused—everyone saw it.
Felt it.
and understood.
You were gone.