[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[AndrewJTalon]

Blake had been very happy lately. She'd actually gone on a date with Sun. Sort of a date. And another outing with Jaune, which was also not a date. And she was having a lot more fun with Mia. Her smile was wonderful to see, especially after the scare of a Beowulf getting into Beacon's grounds.

Blake's fist tightened a bit. How that had happened... How close Mia had come to getting hurt...

Well, she'd spent a few nights checking Beacon's defenses. Just in case.

However, no matter how happy she was to be bonding with Mia... The little girl was not perfect. Not at all.

Mia was coloring happily as Blake sat with her, adding some splashes of red to the green and blue creature Mia was creating... When it entered the room. Blake's hackles rose as she glared at the little menace as it trotted in, tail wagging at maximum velocity, tongue lolling happily. The moment the little monster spotted Mia, its ears perked and let out an excited "Boof!"

Mia's eyes went wide as saucers. "PUPPY!!"

She dropped her crayons and scrambled across the floor on all fours. Zwei met her halfway, and the two of them collided in a whirlwind of giggles and happy barks. Zwei licked her face enthusiastically while Mia hugged him tight, rolling around on the carpet in pure joy.

"He's so soft! And warm! And his tail is going zoom zoom zoom!" Mia squealed, burying her face in his fluffy neck. Zwei wiggled in delight, paws kicking in the air as he tried to give her even more kisses.

Blake's cat ears flattened completely under her bow as she watched the scene with open disgust.

The moment Mia pulled away from Zwei, already going for the doggy treats in the kitchenette, Blake pounced.

She gently but firmly pulled Mia aside onto the couch, away from the happy corgi.

"Mia, sweetheart," Blake said in a very serious voice, "I need to teach you something important. Dogs… are terrible."

Mia blinked. "Huh?"

Blake nodded gravely. "They're loud. They smell bad. They shed fur everywhere. They chase their own tails like idiots. And they slobber on everything. They're chaotic, messy monsters. They're nothing like cats."

Mia looked over at Zwei, who was now rolling on his back with his tongue hanging out, clearly hoping for belly rubs.

"But… Zwei is nice," she said, tilting her head. "He gave me lots of kisses."

Blake's eye twitched. "That's how they trick you. First it's kisses, then it's drool on your clothes, then they steal your socks and bury them in the yard. They're not to be trusted."

Mia stared at her for a long second… then shrugged. "Zwei is fun."

Zwei apparently agreed. He trotted over, jumped up, and enthusiastically licked Blake from chin to forehead in one big, wet swipe.

"Gah—!" Blake recoiled, frantically wiping her face with her sleeve. "Get away!"

Mia burst into bright, delighted laughter, clapping her hands. "He likes you! See? He gave you extra kisses!"

"He's a beast! Like all dogs!" Blake groaned. "Please Mia... Stand together with me! Your fellow cat!"

Mia stared.

"Auntie Blake, you're weird. ZWEI!"

Mia pounced back on Zwei and rubbed his belly happily. Zwei whimpered happily.

Blake stared at the happy, tail-wagging corgi and her would be adopted daughter in utter disbelief. Zwei gave her a look that was undeniably smug.

"…Traitor," she muttered.

Zwei just barked.

Blake gave up, slumping back against the couch with a long, defeated sigh while Mia happily threw her arms around Zwei once more.

What was the world coming to? This next generation was lost.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon RWBY common room had turned into a war zone.

Not with Grimm. Not with training. But with four very dangerous young women who all had very good reasons (in their minds) to fight one Jaune Arc.

Yang slammed her fist on the table. "I'm telling you, we train him up first! Then we fight him! That's the Mandalorian way! You don't just murder a Jedi in his sleep! You test your mettle against him when he's at his strongest! Fighting a real Jedi is awesome!"

Ruby nodded so hard her hood flopped. "Yeah! And then after we beat him, we can… you know… keep him. He'd make really good breeding stock for the clan!"

Weiss's eye twitched. "Excuse me?! We get him? He's far more valuable to the Nightsisters! Our grudge against the Jedi goes back centuries! Plus he's tall, healthy, and has that ridiculous golden aura! Perfect genetic material! He could sire an entire generation of force-sensitive warriors!"

Yang pointed at her. "He's Mandalorian breeding stock now! Ruby and I called dibs!"

Ruby raised her hand like she was in class. "I agree with Yang! He's ours!"

Pyrrha, who had been quietly sipping tea in the corner like a proper lady, finally set her cup down with a soft clink.

All three turned to look at her.

Pyrrha smiled. It was the same gentle, perfect smile she showed the world every day.

Except her eyes were glowing faintly red.

"As a Sith," she said calmly, "I am superior to all of you. The Sith have fought the Jedi for thousands of years. Longer than your Mandalorian clans. Longer than your Nightsister covens. Jaune Arc is not only a Jedi, he's a descendant of Arturia Pendragon and Shirou Arc, two of the mightiest warriors on this planet. He belongs with me. He will join the Dark side. He will rule beside me. And together, we will bring the galaxy to its knees."

The room went dead silent.

Then Yang snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that, Cereal Girl. He's too nice to go full Sith."

Ruby nodded. "He still says 'please' when he asks for extra cookies."

Weiss crossed her arms. "And he blushes when you hold his hand. Some dark lord he'd make."

Pyrrha's smile never wavered. "He simply hasn't been properly… persuaded yet."

The argument exploded again, louder than before.

- - -

In the quiet common room across the hall, four people were enjoying a perfectly normal evening.

Jaune was sprawled on the couch with a book. Nora was upside-down in an armchair, eating cereal straight from the box. Ren sat beside her, calmly sipping tea. Blake was curled up on the opposite couch with her latest novel, scowling at Jaune every so often.

Nora suddenly sat up (still upside-down). "Hey Jaune! Can you mind control people to give me candy?"

Jaune didn't even look up from his book. "Yes… but I won't. Stealing is wrong."

Nora pouted. "Phooey!"

Blake scowled over the top of her book. "I'm a former terrorist, you know."

Jaune finally glanced up and gave her a warm, genuine smile. "Well, I'm glad you've turned over a new leaf."

Blake's ears flattened. "I hate you."

Jaune blinked, genuinely hurt. "What?!"

Ren took another sip of tea, the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

From the hallway, the distant sounds of four girls screaming at each other echoed through the dorm.

Nora tilted her head. "Should we… do something about that?"

Jaune sighed and went back to his book. "They'll figure it out eventually. Probably."

Blake muttered into her novel, "I hope they kill each other first."

"That's terrible, Blake," Jaune gasped.

"Oh now you care!" Blake huffed.

"I always care!"

"Shut up!"

Ren's smirk grew just a fraction wider.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The nightmares started three nights after the incident.

Mia would wake up screaming, small body shaking as she sobbed about glowing red eyes and claws reaching for her in the dark. Jaune stopped trying to put her back in her own cot after the second night. Instead, he pulled her into his bunk with him, letting her curl against his chest while he stroked her hair until she fell back asleep.

For the rest of the week, he took her with him to every class. She sat quietly on a cushion beside his desk during lectures, colored during sparring practice, and napped in his arms during breaks. JNPR didn't complain. Neither did RWBY, or any of the other teams. Everyone understood. Even Cardin's team.

On Friday afternoon, Professor Goodwitch pulled him aside after combat class.

"Mr. Arc. A word in my office, if you please."

Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha waited in the hallway with Mia, who was happily showing Ren her latest crayon drawing of a "friendly octopus."

Glynda closed the door behind them and gestured for Jaune to sit. She remained standing for a moment, hands folded behind her back, before speaking in her usual crisp tone - softened slightly.

"Mr. Arc… I must ask you to please not allow Mia to become too dependent upon your constant presence. It is understandable, given recent events, but it is not sustainable."

Jaune's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Beacon's security was so lax that my four-year-old daughter nearly got eaten by a Beowulf. Tell me why I shouldn't keep an eye on her every second I can."

Glynda didn't flinch. "I agree. What happened was unacceptable - a black mark on this academy's record. I have already spoken with Headmaster Ozpin about tightening protocols. But the fact remains: you cannot take her on training missions or field exercises. She must learn to be apart from you. And you must help her build the courage to do so, or the fear will only grow stronger."

Jaune looked away, shoulders rigid.

"She was helpless. She was terrified. She's just a kid."

"I know," Glynda said quietly. "Nearly dying, alone and afraid, is difficult for anyone. Especially a child. But you cannot shield her from the world forever. Not if you want her to grow up strong."

She walked around the desk and rested a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle.

"You are a good father, Jaune. It is natural to want to keep her close. But this is not the way. Help her feel safe even when you are not beside her. That is how you truly protect her."

Jaune was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded slowly, voice rough. "It's… really hard to let go."

Glynda's hand lingered for a second longer. "I know. But it is better to help her build that courage now than to wait until it becomes a much larger problem later."

Jaune looked up at her, eyes tired but grateful. Without thinking, he pulled her into a quick, tight hug.

"Thank you, Professor."

Glynda stiffened for a heartbeat, then relaxed. A faint blush colored her cheeks as she gently patted his back.

"Just… make me dinner again sometime. And allow me to babysit Mia more often. Then we shall consider ourselves even."

Jaune pulled back with a small, genuine smile. "Deal."


Later that evening, JNPR returned to the dorm together. Jaune carried Mia inside and settled onto his bunk with her in his lap. The others gave them space, though Pyrrha lingered nearby, quietly folding laundry.

Jaune brushed a hand through Mia's hair, voice soft but steady.

"Mia… next week, I have to go train with Grandpa in the woods for a few days. You're going to stay here at Beacon with your aunties and uncles."

Mia's ears immediately flattened. Her lower lip trembled.

"No… I don't want you to go. Stay here. Please?"

Jaune's heart ached, but he kept his tone firm and gentle.

"I have to, kitten. I need to get stronger. Stronger so I can protect you better. So that nothing like what happened last week ever happens again."

Mia sniffled, fat tears welling in her eyes.

"But what if something bad happens while you're gone? What if the bad wolf comes back?"

Jaune cupped her small face in his hands, making her look at him. "That's why you need to be a good girl. A brave girl. You need to stay safe and listen to your aunties and uncles while I'm gone. Because if I'm worrying about you the whole time, I might mess up. I might get hurt. And I know you don't want that."

Mia stared at him for a long moment, tears rolling down her cheeks. She sniffled hard, hiccuped once, then nodded sullenly.

"…Okay."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as tightly as her little arms could manage, burying her face in his shoulder.

Jaune held her close, eyes closing as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you, Mia. More than anything."

"…Love you too, Papa," she whispered, voice small and shaky.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

They didn't call it a date.

Not out loud.

It was "taking Mia to the Vale Zoo on a Saturday when the rest of both teams mysteriously had "urgent training" to do. (Nora had actually winked so hard she pulled a muscle.)

Jaune appreciated it a lot... Though Nora seemed to be having a lot of fun with it.

Jaune showed up at RWBY's dorm at nine sharp with Mia on his shoulders, her little hands fisted in his hair like reins. She wore a tiny sunhat and brand-new sneakers that lit up every time her feet hit the ground.

Yang was waiting in the hallway in ripped jeans, a cropped yellow tank top, and a soft flannel shirt. She'd left her hair down, loose waves catching the morning light. It made Jaune's breath catch.

"Figured you'd need caffeine if we're surviving a four-year-old on a sugar high," she said, handing him the taller cup.

Mia leaned down from his perch on Jaune's shoulders to pat Yang's head. "Auntie Yang has pretty hair today!"

Yang's ears went pink. "Thanks, Squirt. You ready to see the big kitties?"

Mia's answering squeal rattled the windows. Yang snickered.

"Ruby used to reach that pitch."

"I think she still does," Jaune said, rubbing his ear.

- - -

The zoo was perfect chaos.

Mia ran from exhibit to exhibit like a caffeinated pinball, dragging them by the hand. Yang hoisted her up every time she wanted a better view, strong arms steady, laughing when Mia tried to roar back at the lions and only managed an adorable squeak.

Jaune watched them more than the animals.

He watched Yang crouch to Mia's level so she could feed the giraffes, golden hair falling over one shoulder, voice soft and patient when Mia got lettuce juice on her shirt. Watched her lift Mia onto her shoulders so she could wave at the penguins, both of them giggling when the birds flapped back. Watched her sneak Mia an extra ice-cream cone when Jaune pretended to look away.

Somewhere between the red pandas and the petting zoo, Mia declared she needed a bathroom break. Jaune took her, leaving Yang leaning against the railing of the goat pen, arms folded, staring at a baby goat.

When they returned, Yang was snickering as she fed the goat carrots. She grinned up at Jaune.

"Guess I finally got the goat? I knew the carrot was better than the stick!"

Jaune sighed. Mia giggled.

"I like goats! I wanna feed him!"

Yang handed the carrot over to her, and she stuck out in front of the goat. It bit down, and Mia yelped in shock. She cried and turned back to Yang.

"He bit me!" She sniffled. Yang and Jaune reached out, checking her hand together.

"It's okay," Jaune said gently, "Nothing bad."

"Yeah," Yang added, "Looks like the goat got you, huh?"

Mia sniffled. Yang hugged her, rubbing her back.

"Aw, sweetie. It's okay, promise."

Mia scowled and turned around. She bared her teeth at the goat.

"My turn!"

"Oh no!" Jaune pulled her back, and set her up on his shoulders, "We'll have goat some other time, huh?"

"Like curry? I love curry!" Yang gushed, as they wandered away from the petting zoo. Jaune grinned.

"I do too! I learned to cook it!"

"Extra spicy?"

"Yeah!"

Yang grinned.

"Then you're making it for dinner for me, got it?"

"Deal."

"ELEPHANTS!" Mia shrieked happily.

Mia's bad mood evaporated in the face of the giant pachyderms. She eagerly devoured some ice cream while watching one play with a soccer ball.

"Ah, Yang? Shoelace," Jaune said. Yang chuckled and took her like it was the most natural thing in the world. She grimaced playfully up at Mia.

"You're getting heavy, kid. Pretty soon you'll be carrying me."

"Nuh uh," Mia said solemnly. "You're too big and strong."

Yang's smile went soft around the edges. She looked at Jaune as he tied his shoelace, something shy and bright flickering there.

They wandered toward the big cat enclosure as the afternoon golden hour hit. Mia had finally run out of steam and was dozing atop Yang's shoulders, sunhat crooked, one shoe dangling from her toes.

Yang adjusted her grip, careful. "She's out cold."

"She trusts you," Jaune said quietly.

Yang's throat bobbed. "Yeah. Weird how that happens."

They found a bench under a tree. Jaune sat first; Yang settled beside him, Mia curled in her lap like a kitten. The silence was easy, filled only with distant animal calls and Mia's soft snores.

Yang spoke first, voice low. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I'm gonna wake up and realize I dreamed today."

Jaune bumped her shoulder. "I think it smells too much like animal dung to be a dream."

She snorted, then sobered.

"I've never… done this. The whole… family-outing thing. Not like this. Not... For a while."

"Me neither," he admitted. "Not since Katie."

Yang looked down at Mia, brushing a curl off her forehead. "She's so little. And she just… lets me in. Like it's simple."

"It is simple," Jaune said. "To her, you're safe. You're warm. You make the bad dreams go away and you buy her ice cream with sprinkles. That's plenty."

Yang's eyes were suspiciously shiny. "You make it sound easy."

"It's not," he said. "But today? Today felt easy."

She was quiet a long time. Then, barely audible: "I like easy. With you guys."

Jaune's heart did something complicated again. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering maybe a second longer than strictly necessary.

"I like easy with you, too."

Yang turned her face into his palm for a heartbeat, just long enough for him to feel the warmth of her cheek, then pulled back with a shaky laugh.

"Careful, Arc. Keep being sweet and I might start thinking this was a date."

He smiled, soft. "Would that be so bad?"

Her breath caught. A monkey screeched in the distance like it was laughing at both of them.

"…No," she whispered. "It wouldn't be bad at all..."

"No," Jaune murmured, "I... I mean..."

Yang stared at him.

Jaune stared back at her. He slowly leaned in, eyes locked onto hers. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. She licked her lips as he got closer. She could smell his sweat, see the spots in his eyes, feel his breath against her face. Her lips parted, almost invitingly. Closer... Closer...

Mia chose that moment to wake up, blinking blearily. "Did we miss the seals?"

Jaune jerked back like he was struck by lightning. Yang was flushed bright red, breathing hard.

But she recovered first, grinning wide. "Y-Yeah, sorry Squirt. But I bet if we ask nicely, your dad will buy us tiger cookies on the way out."

Mia's eyes went round. "With stripes?"

"The stripiest," Jaune promised.

Mia wiggled down and grabbed both their hands, tugging them toward the exit. "Come on come on come on!"

Yang let herself be dragged. Her eyes met Jaune's briefly, who flushed and looked back at his daughter. She allowed herself a smile.

Later, walking back to the airship docks with a sleeping child on Jaune's back and three bags of souvenirs between them, Yang leaned over and bumped his shoulder again.

"Hey, Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"... You uh... You want to do this again?" She asked. "I mean... Maybe... With Mia left behind?"

Jaune stared at her for a long, quiet moment. He then smiled, and it made Yang's stomach flip.

"Yeah... I-I'd like that."

Yang grinned.

"Good..."

Now... How the hell do I keep the others from horning in on this?

She paused.

Without violence?

Hmmm... That was going to be tricky.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon courtyard was bustling with the usual mid-afternoon chaos-students rushing between classes, the distant roar of combat drills echoing from the training fields, and the occasional song from the birds in the trees. Taiyang Xiao Long had timed his visit perfectly: right after lunch, when Ruby and Yang were both free. He stood near the fountain, arms open wide as his daughters barreled into him.

"Dad!" Ruby squealed, nearly knocking him over with the force of her hug. "You didn't say you were coming!"

Yang grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "What, you finally get tired of patching up the house after Nora's last visit?"

Taiyang laughed, ruffling Ruby's hair and pulling Yang into a one-armed hug. "Can't a dad just want to check on his girls? Besides, I brought cookies. Your mom's recipe."

Ruby's eyes lit up like silver stars. "You're the best!"

Yang rolled her eyes fondly. "Yeah, yeah. We love you too, old man."

Coco Adel stopped mid-stride nearby, designer sunglasses perched on her nose, beret tilted just so. She'd been heading to the library with Velvet when she spotted the tall, broad-shouldered man with the easy smile and the artfully tussled hair. Her lips curved into a slow, appreciative smirk.

She didn't waste time.

"Coco?" Velvet asked, concerned.

"Not now, Bun-Bun, getting laid," Coco stated, heading forward. Velvet sighed.

"Oh no," she muttered.

"Excuse me," Coco said, voice smooth as silk. She lowered her sunglasses just enough to give Taiyang a deliberate once-over. "Are you single?"

Ruby and Yang froze.

Taiyang blinked, still smiling politely. "Oh, hi there! I'm Taiyang Xiao Long. These are my daughters, Ruby and Yang. And you are…?"

Coco grinned, sliding her sunglasses the rest of the way off and tucking them into her jacket. "Coco Adel. Fashion icon, fashionista, and apparently the only person here with taste." She stepped closer, hips swaying just enough to make it clear this wasn't a casual chat. "And I asked if you're single, Mr. Xiao Long. Because if you are… I'd love to take you out for breakfast. Or dinner. Or both. Your choice."

Ruby's jaw hit the ground. "COCO!"

Yang's hair flickered with the first sparks of her Semblance. "What the hell?! That's our dad!"

Coco didn't even glance at them. Her eyes stayed locked on Taiyang, one manicured hand resting lightly on his forearm. "Still not an answer. So… single?"

Taiyang's smile never wavered. He glanced down at her hand on his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Oh, that's sweet of you to offer, Miss Adel! I'm flattered. And yes, I am. But I've been out of the dating game for a while and I'm a little old for you. I'm just here to visit my girls and make sure they're not causing too much trouble."

Coco's grin sharpened. She leaned in a fraction closer, voice dropping to a playful purr. "Trouble's my middle name, handsome. And you look like you could handle a little. That jacket's vintage Mistral leather, isn't it? Very rugged. Very… capable. Much like the owner."

Yang made a strangled noise. "COCO, I SWEAR TO GOD-!"

Ruby was hiding behind her dad now, peeking out with mortified silver eyes. "Dad! She's flirting with you! Say something!"

Taiyang chuckled. "Flirting? Aw, that's nice of her. Kids these days are so friendly." He patted Coco's hand gently. "You've got good fashion sense yourself, Miss Adel. That beret really brings out your eyes. My wife used to wear something similar."

Coco's eyebrows rose. "Wife?"

"Late wife," Taiyang clarified easily, still smiling. "It's been a while. But thank you for the compliment. Means a lot coming from someone with your… style."

Coco's grin returned, twice as bright. "Late wife, huh? Tragic. My condolences. But that just means you're available for a charming, successful, incredibly stylish woman to sweep you off your feet." She gave his arm a light squeeze. "Tell me, Taiyang-can I call you Tai?-what are you doing tonight? I know this little café in Vale that serves the best strawberry shortcake. My treat."

Yang looked ready to combust. "Dad! She's hitting on you! In front of us! Make her stop!"

Taiyang finally seemed to register the tension. He glanced between his outraged daughters and the very forward fashionista, then let out a warm, laugh. "Well, I appreciate the offer, Miss Adel. Really, I do. But I'm just here to spend time with my girls today. Maybe another time?"

Coco pouted dramatically, but her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Another time, then. I'll hold you to that." She slipped a small card into his jacket pocket with practiced ease. "My number. In case you change your mind about breakfast. Or dinner. Or both."

She winked at Ruby and Yang. "Ladies. Always a pleasure."

Then she sauntered off, hips swaying as she made her way back to the mortified Velvet.

The moment she was out of earshot, Yang exploded.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Ruby nodded furiously, face still red. "She asked if you were single! In front of us! Dad, she was flirting so hard I thought my eyes were going to melt!"

Taiyang scratched the back of his neck, looking genuinely confused. "Flirting? She seemed nice. Complimented my jacket. That's all."

Yang threw her hands up. "She slipped her number into your pocket, Dad! That's not 'nice.' That's hunting!"

Ruby nodded again. "Yeah! I mean, we don't need an evil stepmom!"

Taiyang chuckled and pulled them both into a hug. "Relax, you two. I'm not going anywhere. Besides…" He glanced at the card Coco had given him. "I've got my hands full with two very protective daughters already. No room for anyone else right now."

Yang grumbled but leaned into the hug. "You'd better not call her."

"I won't!" Taiyang insisted.

Ruby peeked up at him. "Promise?"

"Promise," Taiyang said.

"So, throw away the card?" Ruby prompted. Taiyang hummed.

"Well, it would be rude to throw it away in front of her, don't you think?" He tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Coco, with Velvet, grinned.

"Ohhh yeah, he's hooked. And now I'm gonna reel him in~."

Velvet sighed.

"Not again," she muttered.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The CFVY dorm common room had been transformed into a miniature fashion studio.

Coco Adel stood in the center like a queen surveying her kingdom, sunglasses perched on her head and a measuring tape draped around her neck. Scattered across the couches were bolts of fabric, ribbons, and half-finished outfits in every pastel color imaginable. Mia stood on a small stool in front of her, dressed in a frilly pink-and-white sundress Coco had quickly altered to fit her perfectly.

"Turn for me, darling," Coco instructed with a bright smile. "Shoulders back, chin up. Confidence, Mia. If you want something, you have to ask for it like you deserve it."

Mia twirled once, the dress flaring prettily. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that!" Coco clapped her hands. "Now, say it with me: 'I want the blue ribbons because they match my eyes and I am adorable.'"

Mia puffed out her little chest. "I want the blue ribbons because they match my eyes and I am adorable!"

Coco beamed. "Perfect! You're a natural, darling. The boys will be falling at your feet in no time."

Velvet, who had been quietly reading in the corner, looked up with a tired sigh. "Coco, she's four."

"And already more stylish than half the first-years," Coco countered with a wink. "Now, next outfit!"

"Can I wear the pink one again?" Mia asked. Coco hummed.

"No, no, too much pink is dangerous!"

By the time Jaune arrived to pick Mia up, the little girl had modeled four different dresses, a tiny leather jacket, and a sparkly tutu. Coco was in the middle of pinning a new bow into Mia's hair when the door opened.

"Papa!" Mia shouted, hopping off the stool and running straight to him.

Jaune caught her with a laugh, lifting her up. "Hey, kitten. Did you have fun?"

Mia nodded enthusiastically, then pointed a tiny finger right at his chest.

"Papa! I want a baby brother! Or sister! I deserve it because I'm adorable!"

Coco smirked in pride. Velvet facepalmed. Fox and Yatsuhashi continued to do homework in the other part of the common room, hoping to avoid drawing attention.

Jaune blinked, then chuckled. "Well… I'll work on that, kitten."

Mia's ears flattened in determination. "Work harder!"

Coco slid her sunglasses down her nose, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Oh my. Well, Jaune darling, if you're having trouble with that particular project… I happen to know several girls who would be delighted to help you become a father again. In fact, I think I should take it upon myself to play matchmaker!"

Jaune's face immediately turned red. "Er-no, that's really not necessary-"

Coco ignored him completely, turning toward her teammate. "Velvet! What do you think? You've always said Jaune has a nice smile. And given his family's reputation for strong, healthy children, you'd probably end up with a whole bushel of adorable babies!"

Velvet's ears shot straight up, her face going bright scarlet. "C-COCO!"

"What?" Coco asked innocently. "It's true! Nothing's happening with Winchester, you think he's hot, he clearly needs help in the romance department, and I get to play fairy godmother. Everybody wins!"

Jaune was already backing toward the door, Mia still in his arms. "Ummm… Oh hey! Is that my scroll ringing? Yeah, I gotta go. Important… scroll… thing."

"I don't hear the Scroll ringing-" Mia tried, but too late: Jaune practically fled the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Coco smirked, crossing her arms with satisfaction. "Challenge accepted."

She turned to Velvet, who was still sputtering. "VELVET! We're breaking out the sexy bunny costume!"

Velvet's voice cracked. "Not that one!"

Coco's grin only widened. "YES THAT ONE!"

From the far corner of the room, Fox and Yatsuhashi looked at eachother.

Fox sighed without opening his eyes. "You think she's going to drag us into this?"

Yatsuhashi's deep voice rumbled. "Probably. We should try to escape while we still can."

Fox was already standing. "Already on it."

The two of them slipped towards the window as quietly as possible. Velvet looked at them as Coco continued to plot, her expression aghast. Fox and Yatsuhashi shook their heads, both making the most stoic pleading faces possible.

"Um... Shouldn't Fox and Yatsuhashi help out too?" Velvet demanded.

Coco slowly turned her head and grinned devilishly at the two young men. Fox gaped. Yatsushi looked wounded.

"Why, Velvet?" Yatsuhashi pleaded. Velvet flushed.

"S-Sorry but... You left me to her ten times already! It's not fair!"

"Oh don't worry, darling," Coco said, patting Velvet's hand soothingly, "They were going to help anyway. There was no need for you to rat them out."

"Crap," Yatsuhashi and Fox moaned.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The daycare room was filled with the usual cheerful chaos when a new face arrived.

Cardin Winchester awkwardly dropped off his little sister at the door, looking like he'd rather face a horde of Grimm than leave her there.

"Be good, Sam," he muttered. "And don't break anyone."

Sam, dressed in her fluffy white bunny onesie, just blinked up at him with big green eyes before toddling inside without a word.

Across the room, Mia was happily playing with her stuffed bunny when she spotted the new girl. Her cat ears perked up.

The two four-year-olds stared at each other from across the play mat.

Sam's eyes locked onto the stuffed bunny in Mia's arms.

"Bunny," she declared reverently.

Mia clutched her toy tighter. "My bunny."

Sam walked straight over, grabbed the other end of the stuffed rabbit, and gave it a mighty tug.

Mia's ears flattened. "Hey! Let go!"

The tug-of-war began.

Mia dug her heels in and pulled with all her might, ears pinned back in determination. Sam, despite being smaller, didn't budge an inch — her awakened Aura making her grip terrifyingly strong for a four-year-old. The stuffed bunny stretched dangerously between them.

"Mine!" Mia growled.

"Bunny," Sam replied stubbornly, yanking harder.

The two girls locked eyes, neither willing to back down. The other toddlers wisely scattered.

Finally, with a mighty heave, Sam pulled so hard that Mia lost her footing and tumbled forward — right into Sam. The two of them went down in a tangle of limbs and fluffy onesie fabric.

For a moment, they just lay there in a heap.

Then Mia sat up, rubbing her head. "You're strong…"

Sam sat up too, still clutching one ear of the stuffed bunny. She looked at Mia for a long second… then held the toy out.

"Share?" she offered, voice small but hopeful.

Mia blinked. Then a slow grin spread across her face.

"Okay. But only if you let me wear your bunny ears next."

Sam considered this, then nodded seriously. "Deal."

The two girls spent the rest of the morning playing together — Mia letting Sam hold the stuffed bunny while Sam let Mia wear the floppy bunny ears from her onesie. They built a fort out of blocks, chased each other around the play area, and even shared a juice box (with only minor arguing over who got the first sip).

By the time Cardin came to pick Sam up, the two girls were sitting side-by-side, covered in glitter and cookie crumbs, giggling about something only four-year-olds would find funny.

Cardin stared. "You… made a friend?"

Sam nodded proudly and pointed at Mia. "Bunny friend."

Mia waved. "Hi, Cardin! Sam's my best friend now!"

Cardin looked like he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terrified.

Mia leaned over and whispered loudly to Sam, "We should have a sleepover. And make your brother play tea party with us."

Sam's eyes lit up. "Yes."

Cardin groaned.

Jaune walked in, smiling happily.

"Hey Kitten, I-Oh. Hey Cardin," Jaune greeted, his tone dropping into neutrality at the end. Mia beamed up at him.

"Sam's my best friend now! And Cardin's gonna play tea party with us!"

Jaune slowly looked at Cardin, smirking slightly. Cardin scowled at him as he picked Sam up into his arms.

"You play tea party with your daughter!"

"Yes I do," Jaune said proudly, "But I have no shame about it."

"I don't either!" Cardin growled, "I-I love my little sister!"

Sam hugged Cardin's neck. He gagged.

"Urk...! I really do!"

"Bunny," Sam said firmly.

"Bunny!" Mia cheered.

"Bunny," Jaune snickered.

"Let go Sam!" Cardin gasped.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

She was twelve years old the day they let her wear the mask.

It was too big for her face. The white porcelain hung loose around her cheeks, the eyeholes slightly too wide, making her look even younger than she was. But Blake Belladonna didn't care. She beamed up at Adam Taurus like he had just handed her the moon itself.

"They said I could come on the mission," she whispered excitedly, ears twitching under her hood. "Sienna said I was ready. That I was… useful."

Adam looked down at her, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile. To twelve-year-old Blake, it looked like pride.

"You're more than useful, little sister," he said, resting a gloved hand on her head. "You're important. The humans need to see that even our children are willing to stand against them. That takes real courage."

Blake's chest swelled with warmth. Important. No one had ever called her that before. Not her parents, who were always too busy with politics. Not the other kids in Menagerie, who thought she was weird for reading so much. Not her servants, who treated her like a frail, fragile princess. But here, in the White Fang, she had a place. A purpose.

She was part of something bigger. Something good.

- - -

The night before the raid on the SDC depot, Blake sat beside Adam on the rooftop, legs swinging over the edge as she watched the city lights below.

"Adam?" she asked softly. "Do you think… after this, the humans will finally listen? That they'll stop hurting us?"

Adam was quiet for a long moment. When he answered, his voice was gentle: The same tone he used when he told her stories about the old heroes of Menagerie.

"They will, Blake. One day. But only if we keep fighting. Only if we show them we're not afraid." He glanced at her. "You're not afraid, are you?"

Blake shook her head so hard her bow nearly flew off. "No! I want to help. I want to make things better. Like you and Sienna."

Adam's hand found hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"Good girl."

Blake smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.

She didn't notice the way his grip lingered a second too long. She didn't see the calculating look in his eyes when he thought she wasn't paying

attention. She didn't understand that she wasn't just a soldier.

She was a symbol. She was a hostage.

A princess in a mask. Proof that the White Fang's cause was just. Proof that even the youngest among them were willing to bleed for freedom, that Ghira and Kali's own daughter had more stomach for war, the hard choices, than they did.

Proof that humanity were monsters if they fought against them.

And when the raid went wrong, when the humans fought back harder than expected, when the first shots rang out and Blake froze in terror, Adam was the one who pulled her behind cover. He was the one who shielded her with his body. He was the one who kept her safe as she saw the truth of the brutality of humanity, and let her feel the joy of victory.

He was the one who served her afterwards, told her this was war and why they had to fight humanity.

He was the one who convinced her to keep going, to find her courage, even as she trembled in fear.

He was the one who helped put her to bed, and told her she was brave and she would conquer her fear. He was the one who smiled at her, and she smiled back, and slowly fell asleep.

He was the one who later told Sienna, in a voice low enough that Blake couldn't hear right outside her quarters:

"She's perfect. The humans will hate us for using a child… and that hatred will make them afraid."

"And Lord Ghira and Lady Kali?" Adam prompted.

Sienna smiled grimly.

"They will not dare to interfere with us, as long as she is ours. Keep it that way. Keep her close. Keep her believing."

- - -

Years later, when Blake finally understood what had been done to her, she would remember that night on the rooftop. The warmth of Adam's hand. The pride in his voice.

She would remember how safe she had felt.

And she would hate herself for ever believing any of it.

Because she had been twelve.

She had believed everyone around her was her friend.

And by the time she realized the truth, the damage was already done.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jaune walked into the JNPR common room. Nora and Ren were waiting for him, looking concerned.

Jaune had a sudden premonition and frowned.

"What is she up to this time?" Jaune asked. Nora sighed and rubbed her temples. Ren just slowly shook his head.

"You should go see," Ren said.

"Hey, at least she's not trying to cook again!" Nora said brightly. Jaune sighed and walked up to the door.

One thing his father had taught him was the hardest part of being a Jedi. He had said:

"Jaune, as a Jedi, we must go up to blood covered maniacs who are laughing while they do evil, and ask 'Wouldn't you rather stop and come quietly?' It sucks but that's our duty, to give people a chance to surrender. Everyone is capable of redemption if they choose it. But if they don't, you must strike swiftly and end the threat to protect the innocent."

He really hoped this wasn't the case with Pyrrha, or Weiss, or Yang, or Ruby. He didn't want to have to strike any of them down. He didn't want to hurt them. Despite everything, he cared about them and sensed they weren't bad people. But if things escalated...

He closed his eyes and focused on the Living Force. He recited the code in his mind:

There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no chaos; there is harmony. There is no death; there is the Force...

He opened the door slowly.

"Pyrrha?"

Pyrrha was in... Very brief lingerie. Black and red. With black lipstick and thick mascara. Her hair was loose. She smirked.

"Hello Jaune~," she purred, "Tell me: Do you want a girlfriend?"

Jaune blinked.

"I mean... Yes?"

"Well, if you turn to the Darkside, I'll become your girlfriend," Pyrrha said.

Jaune blinked again.

Jaune raised an eyebrow. One of his father's lessons came to mind:

Ask questions and seek the weakness of your enemies! And make use of it! Seeking knowledge can be a weapon too!

"Um... And what would that entail?"

Pyrrha flushed.

"W-Well, um... Y-You know... G-Girlfriend things...!"

"Like?" Jaune prompted. Pyrrha waved her hands.

"L-Like... Um... W-Well... Hugging?"

Jaune felt a smile come over his face.

"Oh? Hugging might be nice," he agreed. Pyrrha's cheeks turned a darker red as she wobbled.

"Y-Yes!"

"What else?" Jaune asked, taking a step towards her. Pyrrha wobbled on her heels.

"I-I uh... W-Well, um... Maybe... K-K... K...!"

"Kissing?" Jaune suggested. Pyrrha squeaked and covered her face. He allowed himself a little grin.

"And maybe... Hand holding-?"

"GYAHHHH!" Pyrrha squealed, fleeing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. "DON'T-DARNIT YOU'RE SO LEWD, JAUNE!"

Jaune chuckled. He walked out of the dormroom, feeling fairly relieved.

"Problem solved," he said.

Nora shook her head.

"Ohhh no it isn't! You didn't even see her nightie!"

Jaune looked over at Ren. The green clad ninja took a long sip of some rather strong smelling tea.

"... How bad?" Jaune asked.

"Everything is see through," Ren commented.

Jaune sighed and rubbed his face.

"There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no chaos; there is harmony. There is no death; there is the Force..."

"Good," Nora nodded, "Keep repeating that. Over and over. Maybe it'll help!"

"You think so?" Jaune asked. Nora beamed.

"Nope!"

"Then why did you say that?!" Jaune demanded.

"Because you trying to recite that while Pyr-Pyr or RWBY tear your clothes off is gonna be super funny!"

"NORA!" Jaune groaned. "It will not!"

Ren hummed.

"It will be a little funny."

"REN!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

It was a day later when Jaune entered the common room... And stopped short.

Yang was there. She had none of her Mandolorian armor... But there was no doubt that she was here for a fight.

She was wearing her usual outfit… but with some very intentional modifications. The jacket was unzipped just a little too far, showing more cleavage than usual. Her shorts were riding dangerously high. And the confident, predatory smirk on her face was dialed up to maximum.

She sauntered over, hips swaying, golden hair catching the light like a lion's mane.

"Well well well," she purred, stopping right in front of Jaune and looking him up and down. "Look at you, Vomit Boy. You clean up real nice, VB. Almost makes a girl forget how dense you are."

Jaune, still riding the high of successfully countering Pyrrha, decided to try something different.

He straightened up, met her gaze directly, and gave her a small, confident smile.

"Dense, huh?" he said, stepping closer. "That's funny. Because from where I'm standing, you're the one who keeps finding excuses to get this close."

Yang blinked. Her smirk faltered for half a second.

Jaune kept going, emboldened. "You've been flirting with me for weeks, Yang. I thought it was just teasing at first, or trying to throw me off my game to defeat me… but now I'm starting to think you actually like me."

Yang's face went bright red so fast it was almost impressive. "W-What?! I- I mean- Of course I like you! You're- you're my friend and-NO! I don't like you-I mean-you-!"

Jaune took another step forward, now standing well inside her personal space. His voice dropped slightly, calm and steady in a way that felt very un-Jaune.

"And you want more than that, don't you?"

Yang's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Her usual cocky bravado was completely gone, replaced by genuine flustered panic. Her ears (if she had them) would've been burning.

"I- You- That's not- I mean-!"

Jaune smiled softly. "It's okay. I like you too, Yang."

Then, before she could recover, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn't a long kiss. Just a firm, warm press of lips that carried all the confidence he could muster.

But it was enough.

Yang made a tiny, high-pitched squeak against his mouth. Her knees actually buckled. Jaune caught her around the waist as her eyes rolled back and she went completely limp.

She had fainted.

Jaune stared down at the unconscious Yang in his arms, looking equal parts stunned and horrified.

"…I think I broke her."

From inside the RWBY dorm, Ruby's voice rang out in pure betrayal:

"JAUNE ARC, YOU PUT MY SISTER DOWN RIGHT NOW! Y-YOU SHOULD BE KISSING ME!"

"Not until you're legal!" Jaune shouted automatically.

He sighed deeply.

"…I'm never getting out of this alive, am I?"

Jaune looked down at Yang's peaceful, blushing face and muttered under his breath:

"There is no emotion; there is peace… There is no emotion; there is peace…"

It wasn't working.

Not even a little.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

It happened during a joint training exercise in the old ruins outside Beacon. Well, that's what Weiss would call it.



Weiss had been poking around the collapsed ancient temple (purely for "historical research," she claimed) when she found it: a small, pyramid-shaped device pulsing with faint red light, half-buried under rubble. The moment she picked it up, she knew what it was.



A Sith Holocron.



Specifically, one that had once belonged to Darth Revan, if her grandmother's instruction meant anything.



Her first instinct was to destroy it. Her second was far more interesting.



She brought it straight to Pyrrha.



The two of them stood in an empty classroom, the Holocron sitting between them on a desk like forbidden fruit.



"Weiss," Pyrrha said slowly, eyes gleaming with dangerous curiosity, "do you realize what this is?"



Weiss smirked. "Of course I do. The secrets, the power..."



"It also means others have visited this world!" Pyrrha gasped. "More secrets exist on this world!"



"More importantly," Weiss emphasized, "our resident dense Jedi has no idea what a real Sith Holocron looks like."



Pyrrha's smile turned sharp. "You're suggesting we… rebrand it."



"Exactly." Weiss leaned in. "We tell him it's a lost Jedi Holocron. Something ancient and powerful. We let him open it. And then… we see what happens when he is exposed to the teachings of Darth Revan."



Pyrrha's eyes glowed faintly red for a moment. "He'll Fall. And when he does… he'll be mine."



Weiss's smile faltered for half a second. "…We'll discuss custody later."



- - -



That evening, Jaune was polishing his armor in the JNPR common room when Weiss and Pyrrha knocked on the door. They looked suspiciously friendly which immediately raised the alarm in his head.



"Jaune," Weiss said, holding up the disguised Holocron (now glowing a soft, innocent blue thanks to a quick Dust trick). "We found something extraordinary in the ruins today. A Jedi Holocron. It belonged to one of the ancient Masters."



Pyrrha nodded, voice soft and reverent. "We thought you should be the one to open it. After all… it might contain knowledge that can help you."



Uh huh, Jaune thought. Wow, he was becoming cynical fast. Still... He could sense the Force energy in it. It was authentic. Maybe... Maybe they were being genuine?



Jaune's eyes widened. "Really? That's… wow. Thank you both."



He took the Holocron carefully, like it was made of glass. The device hummed in his hands, recognizing the Force in him.



"Let's see," Jaune muttered, "My dad has one... How do I open it... Ah!"



He focused, and made the Holocron float over his hand. He twisted the corners with his telekinetic power.



With a soft click, it opened.



A holographic figure shimmered into existence: He stood tall and imposing, his presence alone enough to make the air feel heavier. His face was completely concealed behind a sleek, angular helmet of dark durasteel. The helmet's design was both elegant and menacing, a fusion of Mandalorian craftsmanship and Sith iconography. A narrow, glowing crimson T-visor cut across the front like a predator's glare, while subtle red accents and engraved runes traced along the sides, giving the impression that the mask itself was alive with dark power.



Draped over his armored form was a long, flowing cloak of the deepest black, lined with blood-red silk that shimmered like fresh wounds when it caught the light. The cloak was heavy and dramatic, billowing around him with every movement as though the darkness itself obeyed his will. It framed his silhouette like a royal mantle, turning every step into something regal and terrifying.



Beneath the cloak, his armor was a masterwork of intimidation and practicality. Matte black durasteel plates, segmented and reinforced, hugged a lean but powerfully built frame. Red detailing ran along the edges of the chest plate, pauldrons, and gauntlets like veins of molten fury. The chest bore a subtle, stylized Sith insignia, while the broad, angular pauldrons gave him the unmistakable silhouette of a warlord who had conquered empires. The armor was clearly Mandalorian in influence, functional, battle-worn, and built for both war and command, yet refined with the dark elegance only a Sith Lord could command.



Darth Revan.



The girls leaned in, barely breathing.



The hologram spoke in a deep, amused voice:



"If you're watching this, then I'm probably dead. Which is annoying. But before I go, I wanted to leave something behind for the people I actually cared about."



"Bastila, if you're the one who found this... I love you. Your smile is more beautiful and dangerous than any lightsaber. Also, here are the recipes for those Mantellian dumplings you like. I finally got the spice ratios right. Don't tell the Jedi Council I was cooking in the temple kitchen again."



A second hologram flickered on — a detailed recipe for dumplings, complete with handwritten notes in the margins like "Add more garlic, she loves garlic" and "Bastila says these are better than the ones on Dantooine."



The room was silent.



Jaune blinked. "Wait… is this a cookbook?"



Weiss's eye twitched. "That's… that's it?"



Pyrrha stared at the hologram like it had personally betrayed her. "Revan… left a love letter and dumpling recipes?"



The hologram finished with one last message:



"Also, if you're some random Jedi who found this: Don't be a dick. The Force is about balance, not being an asshole. And tell Bastila I... Well, she'll know."



The Holocron powered down.



Jaune scratched his head. "That was… surprisingly wholesome?"



Weiss looked like she wanted to throw something. "We risked our lives dragging that thing out of a Sith temple and it's dumplings?!"



Pyrrha's smile had gone very, very strained. "I… may have miscalculated."



"Really?" Weiss demanded, "What was your first clue?!"



"It was your idea!" Pyrrha growled.



As they argued, Jaune sighed in exasperation. He really shouldn't drop his guard: He couldn't get lucky every time!



Well, at least those dumplings sounded good.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The late afternoon sun bathed Beacon's central courtyard in warm gold, but the real heat came from the portable grill Jaune had dragged out. A massive crate stamped with the Arc rainbow crescent sat open beside it, overflowing with Radian's finest: jars of honey and jam, fresh vegetables, condiments, bread, smoked meats, and-most importantly-an absolute mountain of thick, homemade sausages.

"Mom and the girls really went all out," Jaune muttered, flipping another link. Aqua had doodled little hearts on the wrapping. Verdy and Coral had slapped a tiny explosive sticker on one bundle: "Extra Bang for your Buck ". Lilac's handwritten note read: For my cute little brother and all his lovely friends~ Make sure everyone gets a big, juicy helping!

The savory smell of sizzling pork drew a crowd fast. Team RWBY had shown up first. JNPR followed two minutes later, Nora practically vibrating. And everyone sat down and had a hotdog or two.

Yang leaned against the stone bench, arms crossed under her chest. "Mmmm… Gotta say, VB… I love your big, fat, thick meat~ The way it's just bulging out of that casing? Perfection."

Ruby choked on her carrot stick. Blake turned a page in her book with a tiny smirk. Weiss's teacup rattled.

"Must you be so... So crass! Besides," Weiss added, cheeks flaming, "his gooey, salty product is mine!"

Dead silence. Jaune cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the grill.

Weiss glared. "Not. A. Word."

Blake's ears twitched. "Wouldn't dream of commenting on how thoroughly you've sampled his special sauce, Weiss."

Nora bounced in place, green eyes sparkling as she snatched a plate. "Ooooh, Jaune-Jaune! Look at these fat, juicy boys! I bet they explode with flavor the second you bite down! Can I have the thickest, longest one? I wanna pound it until it bursts everywhere!"

Ren, standing serenely beside her with his arms folded, calmly added, "Texture is important. I prefer it when it's been properly worked-slow and steady at first, then firm pressure so the juices really come out."

Blake had a nosebleed, which she tried to hastily cover up. So did Ruby, which she hid with less success.

Pyrrha, who had been politely examining a jar of Arc honey, went bright red. Still, she managed a soft, earnest smile. "They look… wonderfully firm. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on one and… stroking it gently over the heat until it's glistening and ready."

Jaune's tongs froze mid-flip. His face matched the Arc family tomatoes. He stared at Pyrrha in something akin to betrayal.

Yang barked a laugh. "Holy crap, P-Money! I didn't know you had it in you!"

Pyrrha coughed delicately into her fist. "I-I simply meant basting it properly. With oil. For even cooking!"

"Sure you did," Blake purred, golden eyes half-lidded as she watched a particularly plump sausage split open, juices dripping. "I like mine nice and wet. Extra slick. Slides right down."

Ruby bounced on her toes, plate thrust forward. "Gimme gimme! I want the biggest one! I bet I can fit the whole thing if I open wide enough!"

Weiss buried her face in her hands. Jaune would have done the same thing, but he was still cooking.

Nora was already chewing with exaggerated moans. "Mmmph-! So meaty! It's hitting the back of my throat and I'm still going for more! Jaune, your sausage is life-changing!"

Ren took a small, neat bite, expression unchanging. "Acceptable girth. Good snap when you bite in. Next time I can show you my technique for getting the perfect release of flavor."

Pyrrha accepted two glistening links from Jaune with trembling fingers. She took a dainty bite and immediately made a soft, mortified noise of pure bliss. "Oh… it's so… filling."

Yang grinned like a shark, slinging an arm around Jaune's shoulders. "See, VB? Even the invincible girl can't resist your big, fat, thick-"

"Yang!" Pyrrha squeaked.

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, utterly defeated. "There's honey-glazed, spicy, and smoked with Arc family herbs… and Lilac sent peach cobbler for dessert. With cream. Extra sticky."

Nora's eyes lit up. "Sticky is perfect! I love when it gets all over your fingers and you have to lick it off!"

"Ooh, me too!" Ruby chirped, "I bet it'll be sweet and gooey and it'll go all over my face!"

Yang grinned.

"Good one~!"

"Good what?" Ruby asked.

Blake's ears twitched. "We should send a thank-you card to the Arc family. Tell them their care packages are… deeply satisfying in every way."

Weiss took a tiny bite, then another, cheeks scarlet. "This never leaves the courtyard."

Pyrrha, still blushing furiously, gave Jaune a small, shy smile. "Thank you for sharing your… meat with us, Jaune. It's wonderful."

Ren nodded sagely. "Truly. The whole team appreciates how generously you provide."

Jaune just laughed, warm and helpless, and started loading up more plates while the innuendo storm swirled around him. Somewhere in Radian, he was certain his sisters were cackling.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The nightmare hit around 2:17 a.m.

Mia suddenly sat bolt upright in Jaune's bunk, a terrified scream tearing from her throat. Her little body shook violently as she sobbed, "The wolf! The wolf's got me-!"

Jaune was already moving, swinging his legs out of bed, but Pyrrha's hand shot out and caught his wrist.

"Jaune," she whispered, voice gentle but firm. "You need rest. You've barely slept all week. Let me take her."

He hesitated, eyes full of worry and exhaustion. Pyrrha gave him a small, reassuring smile and scooped Mia into her arms. The little girl immediately buried her face in Pyrrha's shoulder, still crying softly.

"I've got her," Pyrrha murmured. "Go back to sleep."

Jaune watched them go, jaw tight, before finally lying back down.

- - -

The RWBY dorm was still awake when Pyrrha gently knocked and slipped inside. All four girls were up - Ruby and Yang on one bed, Weiss and Blake on the other - clearly unable to sleep either.

Pyrrha explained quietly what had happened. Without a word, Yang got up and started making hot cocoa while Ruby fetched extra blankets.

A few minutes later, Mia was sitting in the middle of Yang's bed, wrapped in a big fluffy blanket and sipping warm cocoa from a mug that was almost too big for her hands. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she had stopped crying.

Ruby sat beside her, stirring her own cocoa. "I… get nightmares too sometimes," she admitted quietly.

Mia looked up at her. "About what?"

Ruby hesitated, glancing at Yang.

Yang sighed and took over, voice unusually soft. "When we were really little… I took Ruby out in a wagon one night. I wanted to find our mom. We ended up in the woods and found this old shack. Grimm attacked us. Uncle Qrow showed up just in time, but… I've blamed myself ever since."

Ruby shook her head firmly. "You shouldn't, Yang. I never blamed you."

Mia stared at them both with big, serious eyes. Then she crawled across the bed and gave Yang a tight hug, then turned and hugged Ruby just as fiercely.

"Beowulves are super scary," she said solemnly.

Yang's voice cracked a little. "Yeah. They really are. That's why we got strong. So we can protect ourselves… and people like you."

Mia pulled back and smiled, tired but genuine. "You're all super great."

The girls all smiled at that.

Mia yawned hugely, then crawled back over and climbed into Yang's lap without asking. She rested her head against Yang's chest, clutching her shirt.

"…Mama…" she mumbled sleepily.

The room went completely silent.

Mia's breathing evened out within seconds, fast asleep and still clinging to Yang like a lifeline.

Yang stared down at the tiny girl in her arms, eyes wide.

Pyrrha reached out gently. "She was clearly asking for me."

Yang hissed back, careful not to raise her voice, "She was holding onto me!"

Ruby leaned in. "She could've meant me! I'm the one who brought her here!"

Weiss crossed her arms, whispering sharply, "We're going to wake her! Besides, I am clearly the closest thing she has to a proper surrogate mother!"

Blake snorted softly. "Please. I gave her new grandparents. That counts for something."

Yang glared at all of them, tightening her hold on Mia protectively. "She said 'Mama.' And she's sleeping on me. End of discussion."

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed. "She was calling for me before she even came here."

Weiss's voice rose a fraction. "I've read her bedtime stories twice this week!"

Ruby pouted. "I let her ride on my shoulders yesterday!"

Blake smirked. "I taught her about Faunus history. That's bonding."

The four of them (plus Pyrrha) began whispering furiously at each other, leaning in close over the sleeping child like a very intense, very quiet argument.

Mia slept on, completely oblivious, one tiny hand still fisted in Yang's shirt and a peaceful little smile on her face.

Yang eventually sighed, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway as she gently stroked Mia's hair.

"…She's gonna be the death of all of us," she muttered.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The week without Jaune had been rough on Mia.

She'd been grumpy, clingy, and asked for "Papa" every few hours. The rest of RWBY and JNPR had stepped up without hesitation — park trips with Ruby, storytime with Blake, gentle combat training with Yang and Nora, quiet reading sessions with Pyrrha, and Weiss's very determined (if mostly unsuccessful) attempts at teaching proper table manners.

By Friday night, everyone was sprawled across the JNPR common room, exhausted but fond, while Mia sat grumpily in Yang's lap, kicking her legs.

The door finally slid open.

Jaune stepped inside: Dirty, sweaty, clothes torn in several places from a week of brutal training with his father... but there was a new, solid confidence in the way he carried himself. His shoulders were broader, his posture straighter… and a short, surprisingly well-kept blond beard covered his jaw.

Mia's ears shot straight up.

"PAPAAAAA!"

She launched herself out of Yang's lap like a rocket and sprinted across the room. Jaune dropped his bag and caught her with a tired but radiant laugh, scooping her up as she buried her face in his neck.

"Hey, kitten," he murmured, hugging her tight and kissing her hair. "Papa missed you so much."

He looked up at the group, grinning despite his exhaustion. "Thanks, guys. Seriously. I know she can be a handful. I'm doing all this training for her, so thank you so much."

Silence.

Dead, heavy, loaded silence.

Every single girl in the room was staring.

Jaune blinked.

"Uh... Guys?"

- - -

Yang's Fantasy

In her mind, the world had shifted to a sunny farmhouse bathed in golden light. She stood on the porch, one hand resting on her very pregnant belly, watching three rowdy blond children sparring in the yard while older Mia patiently corrected their stances.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. Bearded Jaune pulled her gently against his chest, his warm breath tickling her ear.

"Missed you today, Firecracker," he murmured, voice low and rough with affection. His beard brushed against the side of her neck as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss there. "Four kids and you're still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Yang's breath hitched. She leaned back into him, a soft, dopey smile spreading across her face as his hands gently cradled her belly.

"Love you too, Stud," she whispered.

- - -

Weiss's Fantasy

Weiss stood at the grand gates of the Schnee manor, the afternoon sun glinting off the marble. Jaune walked beside her in a tailored black-and-gold security uniform, that glorious beard making him look devastatingly handsome.

The front doors burst open. Five children came running out, Mia proudly leading her youngest sibling by the hand.

"Mom! Dad! You're home!" they shouted in unison.

Jaune chuckled, the sound warm and deep, and slipped an arm around Weiss's waist.

"Long day at the office, princess?" he asked softly, beard brushing her temple as he kissed the side of her head.

Weiss leaned into him, cheeks flushed with quiet happiness. "Much better now."

No board meetings. No cold expectations. Just warmth, laughter, and family.
- - -

Pyrrha's Fantasy

A quiet Argusian manor house overlooked the glittering sea. Two children and Mia played on the beach below, their laughter carried on the wind. Pyrrha stood on the porch, heavily pregnant with their fourth, one hand resting on her rounded belly as she watched them.

Jaune came walking up the path from training, shirt slightly damp with sweat, that short blond beard catching the sunlight. When he reached her, he didn't say a word. He simply smiled that soft, loving smile that belonged only to her, pulled her gently into his arms, and kissed her like he'd been waiting all day for this exact moment.

"I'm home," he whispered against her lips, one hand cradling her belly with reverent care.

Pyrrha melted into him, heart full. "Welcome home, my love."

- - -

Blake's Mind

She was on her knees in a grand, dimly lit study, wrists bound in silk ropes. A powerful noble Huntsman Jaune loomed over her, that incredibly attractive beard making him look dangerously handsome. His gloved hand tilted her chin up.

"Still refusing to talk, little terrorist?" he asked, voice low and commanding.

Blake's breath came faster. Things were just starting to get very interesting when the door suddenly burst open.

"Mommy! Daddy! What are you doing?"

Six children (plus Mia) tumbled into the room.

Blake panicked instantly, breaking out of her bonds and standing with her husband. "J-just some psychological training, sweeties! Go play outside!"

- - -

Ruby's Mind

Ruby was in the workshop in her happy home with Jaune, covered head to toe in grease, her figure noticeably more developed. She was bent over Jaune's mechashift sword when the door opened.

Bearded Jaune walked in, eyes dark with heat.

"We're gonna do some naughty things now," he growled, voice low and rough.

Ruby squeaked, "B-but I'm all dirty, sweaty and-and covered in grease!"

Jaune smirked, stepping closer until she could feel the warmth of him. "Good. That makes it better."

He pulled her into a deep, hungry kiss, not caring about the grease at all as his hands slid into her hair...

- - -

Back in reality, Jaune blinked at the unnerving silence.

"Uh… Girls?" He repeated.

Nora finally broke it, pumping her fist with a huge grin. "Nice beard, Jaune!"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, self-conscious. "Oh… thanks. It's a little itchy though, so I'm probably gonna shave it off tonight-"

"NO!" came the unanimous, slightly panicked shout from Weiss, Ruby, Pyrrha, Yang, and Blake.

Jaune startled. "Ack! What?"

Mia reached up and rubbed his beard experimentally. "Hmmm… It's scratchy!"

Yang recovered first, flashing a bright grin. "We can get special shampoo for that! Make it all soft and nice!"

Weiss nodded quickly, trying to look dignified even while blushing. "Yes! High-quality beard oil. I know several excellent brands."

Pyrrha's voice was slightly higher than usual. "It… really suits you, Jaune."

Blake just stared, ears flicking. "Don't. Shave."

Ruby was still visibly flustered. "Y-yeah! Beards are… cool! Super cool!"

Jaune looked around at all of them, completely bewildered. "I… Okay?"

Ren, who had been quietly sipping tea the entire time, let out a long, suffering sigh.

Nora immediately turned to him with sparkling eyes. "Renny? Will you grow a beard?"

Ren paused, considering it seriously. "…I'll think about it."

Nora threw her arms up in victory. "YAY!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jacques Schnee needed a right hand man, a dragon, to serve him. To do the dirty work, like any corrupt billionaire. So I gave him one. Meet Fafnir Volsung, a Dragon Faunus who is a combat cyborg and loyal to Jacques. I wanted to give Jacques more depth, and provide a proper boss fight for the Atlas Arc that doesn't involve character assassinating General Ironwood.

And of course, to give a little more depth to the Schnee family. Especially on Weiss' birthday. What do you think?

- - -

The Schnee mansion's grand entrance hall felt cavernous that morning—marble floors echoing under Weiss's measured footsteps, the massive chandelier catching the pale Atlas light like frozen tears.

Weiss Schnee—seventeen, luggage minimal, Myrtenaster at her side—walked with chin high, refusing to look back. Her father had already delivered his parting lecture: disappointment wrapped in threats about allowances and expectations. She wouldn't give him—or anyone else—the satisfaction of seeing her waver.

Not after the scar she'd gained to prove her strength.

Fafnir Volsung, her father's ever-present Dragon Faunus enforcer and security chief, stood at the foot of the main staircase. He was a shadowed, seven foot tall monolith in his black suit, with short, spiky black hair and pale skin. His broad, cybernetic wings were folded neatly over his shoulders like a cloak by an actor in an opera-His deadly high frequency sword hanging from his belt. His fingers were cybernetic claws, his arms crossed over his chest as he stood like a gargoyle keeping watch. His grim, black, and angular cybernetic mask hid the ruin of his face, but not his sharp red eyes that tracked her descent.

Weiss intended to pass without a word. He was her father's creature—enforcer, guardian, whatever pretty title Jacques gave it. The dragon who'd stood silent while her family fractured.

She reached the bottom step.

Fafnir didn't move, but his voice—low, gravel over broken glass—stopped her cold.

"You're leaving."

Weiss paused, grip tightening on her case handle.

"I have a Bullhead to catch."

She started forward again.

Fafnir shifted—just enough to block her path without touching her.

"You were never suited to be a princess."

Weiss froze. Slowly, she turned, ice in her eyes as she glared defiantly into his masked face.

"Excuse me?"

He regarded her steadily.

"You have the grace. The etiquette. The poise drilled into you since you could walk. But your soul—" his cybernetic claws flexed once—"is a warrior's. Always has been. You're fooling yourself if you think you'll return here as the perfect heiress."

Weiss's breath caught. Anger flared first—how dare he—but beneath it, something else stirred. Recognition. He had been the one to train her in combat first after all, even when her father objected. The way he'd pushed her harder than any tutor, never praising, only demanding more, had been honest and sincere. Rare commodities in the Schnee household.

She lifted her chin higher.

"And you? Why do you stay? Serving him like some loyal hound. He treats you like a tool—kill switches in your implants, orders you'd never give a real friend. Why chain yourself to a man like that?"

Fafnir was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice carried old weight.

"I swore myself to him. Long before the Schnee name. Before the mansion and the masks." A faint, bitter edge crept in. "He saved this dragon when no one else would. I trusted him to lead, as my clan is long gone. However…"

He gave her a cool, calculating look.

"If he cannot recognize true strength when it stands in front of him—" his gaze flicked briefly toward the upper floors, where Jacques's study lay—"he will lose everything. That is nature's way. The strong overcome the weak. They become weak, complacent, and are overcome."

Weiss stared at him. The resentment was still there—years of seeing him as her father's shadow, the silent figure who'd enabled every cruelty. But beneath it, something shifted.

She swallowed.

"Thank you," she said quietly. The words tasted strange—gratitude for the monster who'd enabled her father's cruelties, and yet… The same man who had trained her and her sister. The one who'd seen what no one else had.

Fafnir inclined his head, stepping aside.

"Go, Weiss Schnee. Become what you were meant to be."

She walked past him without looking back, heels clicking across marble toward the waiting car.

But his words followed her all the way to Beacon.

Warrior.

Not princess.

And for the first time, she believed it.

- - -

Fafnir watched her go, double checking the security around the compound as the Bullhead headed off. Other agents would see to her transit to the airship port without him, keeping him apprised, but he had gone over the route and itinerary himself. He knew she would be safe.

Still, he watched her go, scanning the sky for threats. Even as he found his mind reflecting on her questions… And the answers he gave her.

It was all too clear in his mind. His memory was nearly perfect, even before the cybernetics.

The night he met his master.

Deep in the underbelly of Mantle, the air stank of rust, coal smoke, and desperation.

Fafnir—barely twenty, wings tattered from the raid that had burned his clan's village to ash—huddled in a shadowed alley off the old industrial district. Snow crusted his black hair; hunger gnawed deeper than the cold. He'd made it this far on rage and stolen scraps, but the streets were claiming him piece by piece.

That night, the brawl spilled out of a dive bar called the Iron Drake—miners, smugglers, Faunus and human alike trading fists over bad liquor and worse grudges. Fafnir, half-starved and looking for a fight to feel alive, threw himself into it. Instinct was instinct.

He was winning—claws raking, wings buffeting—until a blade found his ribs and another cracked across his skull.

He went down hard in the filthy snow, blood pooling warm beneath him. The crowd scattered as sirens wailed in the distance. No one lingered for a dying dragon.

Boots crunched closer. Fafnir barely had the strength to look up.

A young human—sharp-featured, black hair slicked back, clothes a little too fine for this district—crouched beside him. Jacques Gele, orphan turned street hustler, eyes cold and calculating even at fourteen years old.

"You're a big one," Jacques said, voice calm as he pressed a stolen handkerchief to the worst wound. "A Dragon Faunus. Rare. Useful."

Fafnir snarled weakly, trying to rise. "Piss off."

Jacques didn't flinch. "You're bleeding out. I can get you patched. Or you can die here like trash. Your choice."

Fafnir's vision blurred. He had nothing left—no clan, no home, no future.

He rasped, "Why?"

Jacques's smile was thin, sharp. "Because I need muscle. And you look like the kind that doesn't break easy."

He hauled Fafnir up—surprisingly strong for his build—and half-dragged him through the night. They went through the back alleys to a rundown clinic. It was run by a doctor who asked no questions for the right amount of lien.

Jacques paid. Stayed while they stitched the dragon back together. Brought broth when Fafnir couldn't hold a spoon.

Weeks later, when Fafnir could stand again, Jacques offered his hand.

"Partners. I've got brains. You've got claws. We take what we need from those who have too much. Together."

Fafnir stared at the outstretched hand—human, soft-skinned, unafraid.

He took it.

The years that followed were filled with blood and lien.

Jacques planned—heists on mobster warehouses, Dust shipments, and raids on rival crews. Fafnir executed them all. He used his wings for rooftop drops, his claws for silent kills, raw strength and the sword when subtlety failed.

He took bullets meant for Jacques. Lost an eye in a knife fight. Broke bones that Jacques paid to set.

Every time, Jacques dragged him back from the edge—clinics, black-market doctors, whatever it took.

"Why?" He asked.

"You're an investment," Jacques would say, smirking. But he never left Fafnir behind.

The worst came during a power play against a rival syndicate boss who'd muscled in on their Dust racket.

Assassins hit their safehouse at dawn, using high-caliber rounds and Dust grenades. Fafnir threw himself between Jacques and the breach, wings shredding as he carved through the attackers.

He killed them all.

But not before they carved him open—mouth and face slashed to ruin, arm mangled beyond saving, wings torn, and his spine fractured.

He collapsed over Jacques, blood bubbling from the gory smile they'd carved into his cheeks. His vision went dark, and he fell into oblivion.

He thought that was the end.

It wasn't.

Jacques—covered in Fafnir's blood—carried him out through the flames. Spent every lien they'd scraped together on experimental cybernetics from Atlas black-market surgeons who owed him favors.

When Fafnir woke, he was half machine—wings rebuilt stronger, his fingers replaced with steel claws, his face masked to hide the ruin.

Jacques sat beside the bed, exhausted but triumphant.

"Told you," he said. "Investment."

He used the attack—spun it as an attempt on a "legitimate businessman"—to destroy his rival. He planted evidence, bought witnesses. The arrests and headlines were made.

The scandal catapulted Jacques into Atlas high society.

Fafnir became his shadow: His chief enforcer and silent guardian.

He never forgot the debt.

The boy who saved a dying dragon in a Mantle alley had given him purpose. Life. Power.

Even when Jacques married into the Schnee name.

Even when he ordered things that turned Fafnir's stomach.

Even when the man shed the last pretense of the street kid who'd once shared stolen bread.

The debt remained.

Until the day it didn't.

But that day hadn't come yet.

Fafnir watched from the shadows as Jacques rose higher, red eyes unreadable.

He owed the man his life.

And debts like that—dragon debts—were paid in blood.

No matter who's blood it was.

One way or another, he'd get his pound of flesh.

He always did.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

• Name: Alexander Pierre Arc
• Allusion: Alexander Anderson from Hellsing
• Naming Process: Alexander is of Greek origin, meaning "defender of the people," perfectly suiting a flamboyant paladin-priest who violently protects the innocent. Pierre is a French masculine name meaning "stone" or "rock." It is derived from the Greek name Petros, which also means "stone," and is associated with Saint Peter, one of the apostles of Jesus, and was the name of one of Joan of Arc's brothers who fought alongside her.
• Age: Early 40s
• Background: Alexander was ten years old when his parents, Jonathan and Elizabeth Arc, were killed in a Grimm attack on their caravan while traveling to Radian. His older sister Isabel, then eleven, chose to become a combat medic Huntress to support the family. Alexander and his other siblings found their own paths. Drawn to the Tablebreaker Church's message of righteous upheaval against evil, Alexander joined as a young paladin-priest and rose rapidly through its ranks. He now serves in Section XIII, the Church's elite strike force that operates alongside licensed Huntsmen to eliminate particularly dangerous Grimm, bandit strongholds, and other existential threats to the innocent. Between missions he runs a large orphanage in Lutetia, the capital of Gallia (a sub-kingdom of Vale), and conducts missionary work across the countryside. He has a reputation for brutally subduing bandit groups and criminals, then offering them redemption through faith—many have converted after being thoroughly beaten. He maintains close ties with his family, frequently bickering with his siblings over theology and lifestyle choices while remaining deeply loyal and affectionate toward them, especially his nephew Jaune and nieces.
• Race: Human
• Emblem: A silver X-cross shattered by a rising blade, with light radiating from the fracture—symbolizing the breaking of the Stone Table and the defense of the faithful.
• Weapon: Carries dozens of blessed bayonets and throwing knives of varying sizes, all consecrated by the Tablebreaker Church. His preferred fighting style involves flooding the battlefield with thrown and telekinetically controlled blades. He also wields two large, blessed combat knifes as primary melee weapons when closing distance, called "Mercy" and "Charity", forged by his grandfather Shirou.
• Semblance: "Echoed Armory" - Similar to his grandfather's "Unlimited Blade Works."
  • Alexander can analyze any weapon he sees and instantly project multiple copies of it at roughly 20% of the original's strength and durability. He most commonly replicates his own bayonets and daggers, which he can control in flight with precise telekinetic guidance. The copies are temporary and dissolve after use or when his Aura is depleted, but the sheer volume he can deploy makes him a terrifying presence on the battlefield.
• Appearance: Tall and broad-shouldered with the classic Arc family blonde hair (kept short and neat) and bright blue eyes. He sports a perpetual five o'clock shadow and wears thin, round glasses that give him a scholarly air when at rest. His most striking feature is his wide, almost manic grin when fighting—sharp and unsettling—contrasted by the gentle, warm smile he shows children and those in need.
• Outfit: Standard Tablebreaker priest's frock in deep charcoal with white clerical collar and accents, worn over reinforced combat armor. He always wears pristine white gloves and carries a large silver X-cross pendant. In the field he dons a long, dark coat over the frock for additional protection and to conceal extra blades.
• Personality: Flamboyant and theatrical in battle, Alexander fights with joyful, almost ecstatic violence, laughing and quoting scripture as he floods the field with blades. Outside of combat he is a kind, patient, and deeply compassionate priest who adores children and runs his orphanage with genuine warmth. He is quick to anger when the innocent are threatened, yet equally quick to offer mercy and redemption to those who surrender. He frequently argues theology and life choices with his siblings (especially Isabel), but these spats are rooted in genuine love and concern. He is fiercely protective of his family and holds a particular soft spot for his nephew Jaune.
• Notes: Alexander serves as one of the Tablebreaker Church's most effective field operatives in Section XIII, often coordinating with licensed Huntsmen teams. He maintains a deeply antagonistic relationship with Alucard, the Bat Faunus operative of the Albion-based Hellsing organization, though he makes a conscious effort to remain civil with his cousin Seras Victoria at the request of their grandmother Arturia. Despite his violent methods, Alexander genuinely believes in redemption and has successfully turned several former bandits and criminals into productive members of society. He views his work as both holy war and pastoral duty—protecting the flock by any means necessary while still offering salvation to the lost.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

VDF POST-BREACH REMEDIAL FIELD MANUAL
HOLDING GROUND AGAINST GRIMM
Obstacles, Fires Integration, and Huntsman Coordination
Classification: VDF SECRET // FOR GROUND COMMANDERS ONLY
Author: Colonel Tangerine "Tangy" Arc, VDF 1st Infantry Division / Salamander PMC
Purpose: Remedial education for all VDF ground commanders after the Breach. We got arrogant with drones and hard-light toys. Grimm do not care about your firmware. This is how you actually hold ground.


1. CORE PRINCIPLE

Grimm do not feel physical pain the way humans or Faunus do. They will tear through barbed wire, impale themselves on spikes, and keep coming if negative emotion pulls them forward.

Your job is not to hurt them.Your job is to control their maneuvering room, slow them down, funnel them into kill zones, and let massed fires do the killing.

All obstacles must be covered by fire. An obstacle without fire is just expensive scenery.


2. PASSIVE OBSTACLES (Always Present & Active)

A. Standard VDF Obstacles
Barbed Wire & Concertina Wire
Strengths: Cheap, fast to emplace, excellent at slowing and bunching packs. Triple concertina creates near-impassable belts.
Weaknesses: Larger Grimm (Death Stalkers, Goliaths) tear through it. Requires constant maintenance after weather.
Deployment: Outer apron (angled outward) + multiple parallel belts 10–20 m wide. Combine with ditches.

Ditches & Trenches
Strengths: Channels movement, creates vertical obstacles that force Grimm to slow or fall in. Can be flooded.
Weaknesses: Requires heavy effort. Can be filled by debris or crossed by very large or flying Grimm.
Deployment: V-shaped or stepped profiles, 2–3 m deep, 50–100 m in front of main fence lines. Multiple parallel lines.

Urban Jersey Barriers & Rubble Fields
Strengths: Instant in cities. Creates chokepoints and cover for your troops. Rubble fields add unpredictability.
Weaknesses: Can be climbed or pushed aside by very large Grimm.
Deployment: Staggered rows across streets and open areas.

Hedgehogs (Steel or Dust-Spiked)
Strengths: Impale or flip charging Grimm. Low profile, hard to remove.
Weaknesses: Ineffective against flying Grimm. Can be bypassed if not in depth.
Deployment: In open ground between wire belts.

Dragon's Teeth & Concrete Pyramids
Strengths: Stop or channel vehicle-sized Grimm. Extremely durable.
Weaknesses: Expensive and slow to emplace. Large Grimm can sometimes push them.
Deployment: Staggered rows in depth, 30–50 m wide belts.

B. Improvised Obstacles (Low-Resource Settlements or Units)
For villages and outposts without steel or concrete:
Abatis: Fallen trees with sharpened branches facing outward. Excellent entanglement.
Palisades: Vertical sharpened logs or planks. Quick to build, good against medium Grimm.
Trous de Loup (Wolf Pits): Conical pits with sharpened stakes at the bottom. Simple and deadly to anything that falls in.
Fraises: Horizontal sharpened stakes or branches angled outward from a central point.
Moats & Berms: Dug ditches with the spoil piled into defensive berms on the friendly side. Can be flooded.
Tangy's Note: "If you have trees and shovels, you have a defense. Stop waiting for supply drops and get to work!"


3. ACTIVE OBSTACLES

Automated Turrets
Dual-mode (kinetic + Dust). Linked to central network but with manual override.
Risks: Hackable. Requires power. Tangy insists on at least one human in the loop.

Sonic Barriers
High-pitched frequency emitters that cause discomfort or disorientation in Grimm (they hear like us).How to use: Place along wire belts and ditch lines.
Risks: Ineffective when strong negative emotions are present (fear, panic). Can be overwhelmed by a determined horde or Dragon. Best used in combination with calm leadership and visible Huntsman presence.

Tangy's Note: "They relied on these way too much at Mount Glenn and paid the price. Don't make the same mistake!"

Elemental Dust Barriers
Fire, Ice, Lightning, or Gravity Dust projectors creating temporary walls or damaging fields.
Strengths: High damage output.
Risks: Expensive, limited duration, requires resupply.

Hard-Light Dust Barriers
Atlas-style temporary walls or domes.
Tangy's Official Opinion: "Expensive, fragile, and a waste of lien when wire and sandbags work better 90 % of the time. Use only when you have no other option."

Wedge Barriers & Vehicle Arresting Systems
Heavy steel wedges or portable barriers that stop or redirect charging Grimm.
Deployment: At chokepoints and road entries.


4. DEPLOYMENT IN DEPTH (The Standard VDF Belt)
Layer your obstacles so the enemy is slowed, channeled, and exposed at every stage:
Outer Disruption Belt — Improvised or wire + hedgehogs (slow initial rush).
Channeling Ditch Line — Ditches + mines + sonic emitters (force them into predictable paths).
Main Entanglement Belt — Multiple concertina belts + Dragon's Teeth (bunch them up).
Kill Zone Preparation — Sandbagged strongpoints + pre-registered artillery.
Final Protective Line — Inner fence + turret revetments + Huntsman reserve positions.
Rule: Every obstacle belt must have at least one engagement area behind it. Which leads us to:


5. ALL OBSTACLES NEED COVER FROM FIRE

Weapon Placement & Engagement Zones

Handheld Weapons (Rifles, Shotguns, SMGs)
Primary close-range defense (0–200 m).
Used from sandbagged fighting positions or strongpoints.
Crew-Served Weapons (Machine Guns, Auto-Grenade Launchers)
Interlocking fields of fire along wire belts and ditch lines.
Final Protective Line (FPL) should be registered so gunners can fire on fixed lines in the dark.
Mortars (60 mm / 81 mm / 120 mm)
Primary area suppression.
Place in defilade behind the main line.
Register on all obstacle belts.
Artillery (155 mm Howitzers + MLRS)
Massed fires on engagement areas.
Pre-register every obstacle belt and suspected approach route.
Grenades & Shoulder-Fired Weapons
Anti-Grimm rockets for larger targets. Hand grenades for close defense of positions.
Developing Engagement Areas (EAs)
EA DEEP: 800–2000 m out — artillery and air strikes.
EA MIDDLE: 300–800 m — mortars + crew-served weapons on obstacle belts.
EA CLOSE: 0–300 m — machine guns, rifles, and Huntsmen on the final protective line.
Final Protective Line (FPL): The last line of obstacles. Everything behind it is friendly troops.
Danger Close Distances (VDF Standard)
155 mm artillery: 600 m
120 mm mortar: 400 m
81 mm mortar: 250 m
Crew-served machine guns: 100 m (with overhead cover)
Hand grenades: 35 m (friendly troops must be warned)
Calculation of RoundsAlways plan for sustained fire. A standard VDF defensive position should stock:
3 basic loads of small arms ammo per soldier
500+ rounds per machine gun
200+ mortar rounds per tube
Pre-planned artillery "packages" (e.g., 100 rounds on EA MIDDLE in 10 minutes)
Things to Watch For
Dead space behind obstacles (fill with mines or secondary positions).
Masking of fires by terrain or your own obstacles.
Over-concentration on one avenue (Grimm will find the weak point).
Friendly troops too close to the wire when the horde hits.

6. SUPPORT

Know what your support is, Air, Sea, Artillery. Know distance, ETA, capabilities, communications codes and methods. Maintain updates and call them in.

Tangy's Note: "Remember, your most powerful weapon is your radio. Call in air strikes, arty, whatever you need."

Logistics Note: All support is limited by Dust and ammunition stocks. Plan for 72-hour self-sufficiency minimum.

7. INTEGRATION WITH HUNTSMEN
Huntsmen are not regular infantry. They are high-value precision assets.
How to Integrate
Assign Huntsman teams to sectors as mobile reserves, Quick Reaction Forces, Recon in Force, or priority target hunters.
Use conventional troops to hold the line and fix the enemy.
Huntsmen exploit gaps created by obstacles and fires.
How to Preserve Them
Never use Huntsmen for static defense or routine patrolling when regular troops can do it.
Provide them with fallback positions and medical support.
Rotate them out of the line when Aura is low.
Aura Adept Plan of Action (AAPA): Every commander must maintain a living document on every Huntsman under their command containing:
Current Aura Level (estimated % and regeneration rate)
Combat Experience (hours in actual Grimm combat)
Semblance Type & Full Capabilities
Known Strengths
Known Weaknesses & Limitations
Preferred Role in Defensive Operations
Medical / Psychological Notes
Next of Kin / Emergency Contact
Tangy's Standing Order: "If you lose a Huntsman because you treated them like a regular soldier, I will personally write the letter to their family and then I will come for you."


Tangy's Closing Line (printed in bold on every copy):

"Obstacles slow them. Fires kill them. Huntsmen finish what the steel cannot. War crimes don't exist against Grimm. Now go hold the ground and fuck these bastards up!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Velvet Scarlatina marched up to Jaune in the deserted hallway outside the cafeteria like a woman on a mission from God. Her ears were pinned flat against her head in full battle mode, brown eyes blazing, cheeks already pink with a mix of fury and something suspiciously close to embarrassment.

Jaune, balancing a tray of suspiciously lumpy cafeteria mystery meat, offered a friendly wave.

"Oh, hey, Velvet! What's—"

"Why is he bullying you?!" she demanded, planting herself in his path and jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest hard enough to make him juggle the tray.

Jaune blinked rapidly. "Eh?! You mean Cardin? Look, it's not a big deal, he's just—"

"Why are you just taking it like some kind of spineless noodle?!"

"Well, I was going to—"

Velvet steamrolled right over him, voice climbing an octave. "He used to bully me, you know! He yanked my ears! Called me 'animal' like it was an insult! Do you have any idea how traumatic that is for a proud Faunus?!"

Jaune winced in genuine sympathy. "Yeah, that's awful, and totally not okay, but—"

Suddenly, Velvet threw her hands up, ears flopping dramatically with the motion, and unleashed the bombshell at full volume:

"I'M THE HOT BUNNY GIRL, OKAY?! HE'S SUPPOSED TO BE MY TSUNDERE HUSBAND WHO SECRETLY HAS A THING FOR EARS AND ACTS ALL GRUFF BUT BUYS ME CARROTS AND CALLS ME CUTE WHEN HE THINKS I'M NOT LISTENING!"

Jaune's brain blue-screened. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. The tray tilted dangerously; a glob of mystery meat plopped sadly onto his shoe.

"I… huh? Wait, tsundere—what?!"

Velvet leaned in, face now scarlet but undeterred, poking him repeatedly in the chest like she was hammering home a manifesto.

"Listen here, you—you absolute twink! Cardin Winchester is mine! I've got dibs! I've been cultivating this enemies-to-lovers arc since he got here! So you'd better grow a spine, stand up to him, and make him leave you alone—or I swear on every carrot in Remnant, I will break both your wrists! He's MINE, got it?!"

Jaune's hands shot up in frantic surrender, tray abandoned on a nearby windowsill. "I-I don't like him like that! At all! Zero interest! Negative interest!"

"GOT IT?!"

"GOT IT! CRYSTAL CLEAR! MESSAGE RECEIVED!"

"GOOD!"

Velvet spun on her heel with military precision, ears flicking once in triumphant satisfaction, and stormed off down the hall.

Jaune stood rooted to the spot, staring after her, face drained of color.

He looked down at the sad meat glob on his shoe.

Then up at the ceiling, as if pleading for answers.

"…Are all Huntresses completely insane," he whispered to the empty air, "or am I just cursed?"

- - -

A few weeks later, the Beacon courtyard was bathed in late-afternoon sunlight, students milling about between classes, the air filled with the usual chatter of missions, weapons, and weekend plans. Cardin Winchester stood near the fountain, shifting his weight awkwardly, his massive frame looking uncharacteristically small. He'd rehearsed this a dozen times in his head—thanks to Jaune's unexpected backbone and a few hard lessons in humility, he was finally doing the right thing.

Velvet Scarlatina hopped into view—literally, with a light bounce in her step—her ears perked up as she spotted him marching up to her. Her cheeks turned pink with anticipation.

Cardin cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… Hey, listen, An—Velvet. I'm sorry about the ear tugging and the name calling. It was messed up. I promise I won't do it anymore."

Velvet froze mid-step, ears twitching like radar dishes picking up an incoming missile. Her big brown eyes went wide as saucers.

"Wh-What?!"

Cardin, mistaking her shock for lingering hurt, pressed on earnestly—because for once in his life, he was trying to be a decent human being.

"It was wrong, and I—"

"YOU'RE BREAKING UP WITH ME?!"

The courtyard went dead silent. A nearby first-year dropped his scroll. Dove Bronzewing, lingering with the rest of Team CRDL a safe distance away, choked on his water.

Cardin's jaw dropped. "Huh?!"

Velvet's face crumpled into tragic melodrama worthy of a Mistral soap opera. Her ears drooped like wilted flowers, hands clutching her chest as though he'd stabbed her with a rusty spoon.

"WHO IS SHE?!" she wailed, voice cracking into full theatrical soprano. "WHO'S THE WHORE WHO STOLE MY MAN?! Was it that redhead from Combat Class? Or the one with the hammer?! NO ONE CAN LOVE YOU LIKE I CAN, CARDIN! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS YOUR BROODING SOUL AND SECRET SOFT SIDE LIKE I DO!"

Cardin's face cycled through confusion, panic, and sheer existential dread. His team edged farther away, Russel muttering, "Nope, not getting involved in this one."

"B-Breaking up?!" Cardin stammered, hands up like he was warding off a Grimm. "We were never— I was just apologizing! For being a jerk! I don't even— There's no one else!"

Velvet wasn't listening. She'd gone full tragic heroine—tears welling, lower lip trembling, one ear flopping dramatically over her eye.

"You tugged my ears because you secretly liked them! You called me 'animal' because it was your cute nickname for me! We were supposed to have a enemies-to-lovers arc! Slow burn! Mutual pining! You were going to carry me bridal-style after I saved you from a Beowolf and then we'd share a passionate kiss in the rain!"

Cardin's brain short-circuited. His mouth opened and closed like a fish drowning in air.

"I… pulled your ears because I was an asshole?" he tried weakly.

Velvet gasped, clutching imaginary pearls. "Don't lie to me! You can't just throw away our future like this! We were going to have a spring wedding with carrot cake and everything!"

Sky Harris, watching from the sidelines, leaned over to Lark. "Ten lien says she challenges him to a duel for his heart."

Lark shook his head. "No bet."

Cardin, face now the color of a ripe tomato, backed up a step. "Velvet, I swear, I'm just trying to say sorry! No breaking up! No other girl! I'm not— We're not— There was never a—"

Velvet pointed a trembling finger at him, tears streaming freely now. "You'll regret this, Cardin Winchester! You'll come crawling back when you realize no one else will tolerate your terrible flirting and your weird obsession with maces!"

She spun on her heel—ears flopping with righteous fury—and stormed off, leaving a trail of bewildered students and one utterly shell-shocked Cardin standing in the fountain's spray.

Team CRDL finally approached their leader, who looked like he'd been hit by a Bullhead.

Dove patted his shoulder. "So… that went well?"

Cardin stared into the distance, voice hollow.

"I think I just got dumped by someone I never dated."

From a nearby bench, Coco Adel lowered her sunglasses, smirking at Velvet's dramatic exit.

"Girl's got commitment issues," she muttered to Fox. "Or commitment fantasies."

Cardin slumped against the fountain, soaking wet and existentially exhausted.

"Why is my life like this?"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

• Name: Irene Catherine Arc
• Allusion: Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), Irina Jelavić from Assassination Classroom, Catherine (sister of Joan of Arc)
• Naming Process: Irene is of Greek origin, meaning "peace," a deliberate irony for a woman whose life has been defined by violence and who now fights to protect the innocent.
• Age: Late Thirties
• Background: Irene was only eight when her parents, Jonathan and Elizabeth Arc, were killed in a Grimm attack on their caravan. While her older siblings pursued dangerous careers to support the family, young Irene helped raise her infant brother Trey and discovered a gift for the piano, performing publicly to earn extra money. At fifteen she was accepted into the prestigious Miss Zelen Preparatory Academy for Young Ladies in Lutetia on money provided by Arturia, Isabel, Brand, and Alexander. The academy was secretly a recruitment and training ground for the Velvet Glove, a Spider-aligned spy and assassin network. Headmistress Juliana Zelen used her Semblance to brainwash Irene, transforming the gentle pianist into a cold, highly trained operative skilled in seduction, martial arts, infiltration, sabotage, demolition, firearms, and interrogation. Her Aura was unlocked and her Semblance, Fortissimo, made her lethally effective. At twenty, the Arc family—led by Arturia using government favors—launched a daring raid with Isabel, Nick, Arjun, Saia, Brand, Alexander, and Shirou to rescue her and destroy the academy. Most of the staff were captured; the remaining network was left to law enforcement. Irene recovered slowly but refused to return to a quiet life. She joined Vale's Foreign Intelligence Agency to ensure no other child would suffer what she had. She operates under the cover of a traveling Vytalian and music teacher, code named "Dame Blanche" or "White Lady". Her family tried to dissuade her, fearing for her safety and soul, but she insisted—creating ongoing tension even as they remain fiercely loyal to one another. She has carried out numerous black operations for Ozpin's inner circle and has partnered extensively with Qrow Branwen. Their relationship is intensely flirtatious and built on absolute trust, yet both are too scarred to commit fully; they are "not together, but not together-together." To her nephew Jaune she is simply "Aunt Irene"—kind, elegant, and occasionally terrifying in ways he cannot quite explain.
• Race: Human
• Emblem: A black cross encased in a double circle-It is meant to evoke the Arc rainbow crest but when seen from a different angle.
• Weapon: Irene carries no named weapons; she has little sentimentality for such things. Her arsenal is mission-specific and includes suppressed pistols, garrote wires, combat knives, sniper rifles, flashbang and fragmentation grenades, electrified stun batons, and any improvised tools the situation demands. She treats every weapon as disposable and interchangeable.
• Semblance: "Fortissimo"
  • Irene can precisely control the volume and intensity of any sound she produces or that occurs within a short radius of her body. She can render herself and her movements completely silent for perfect stealth, amplify a whisper into a concussive sonic blast, or turn a single footstep into an ear-shattering explosion capable of disorienting or injuring targets at close range. The Semblance has a short effective radius but is devastating when combined with her training.
• Appearance: Curvy but athletic and graceful with the classic Arc blonde hair worn in a practical yet elegant ponytail and striking blue eyes that can shift from warm kindness to icy calculation in an instant. She moves with the poised, predatory elegance of a dancer.
• Outfit: In her civilian cover she wears modest but stylish teacher's attire—blouses, pencil skirts, and cardigans that hide hidden holsters and tools. On missions she favors sleek black or white tactical bodysuits or elegant evening gowns that conceal weapons and allow full range of motion.
• Personality: Warm and affectionate with family, especially her nieces and nephew Jaune, Irene radiates quiet maternal energy when off-duty. In the field she is cool, professional, and ruthlessly efficient, with a dry, flirtatious wit that surfaces most strongly around Qrow. She carries deep trauma but channels it into fierce protectiveness; she will not allow another generation to be stolen as she was. She is pragmatic to the point of cynicism yet retains a hidden core of idealism that keeps her fighting.
• Notes: Irene is one of Vale's most valuable deep-cover assets, having dismantled multiple Velvet Glove cells and other terrorist networks. Her partnership with Qrow is legendary within certain circles—deadly effective yet emotionally complicated. She remains a point of gentle contention within the Arc family, who worry she is still punishing herself for what was done to her, but they support her without hesitation. To the wider world she is simply a traveling teacher with a beautiful smile and a hidden past of steel and silence.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

It was funny how men became friends. Ren and Sun, Jaune had befriended them fighting for their lives in desperate situations. Cardin? Cardin had been a prick, they'd fought, and now they were cool.

So now, the four of them were sitting on the roof of the JNPR dorm, legs dangling over the edge as the sun dipped low over Beacon. All of them drinking some soda sent from Jaune's family in Radian... As Professor Goodwitch had taken the booze sent with it.

Cardin took a swig from his bottle and leaned back on his hands. "So… who's everyone taking to the dance?"

Sun grinned, tail swishing lazily behind him. "Got Blake to say yes. Took some convincing, though. She kept muttering something about 'love triangles' and 'not wanting to make things complicated.' I just told her we'd keep it simple. She still looked like she was calculating escape routes the whole time... But it's a win!"

Cardin snorted. "Sounds about right."

Ren, who had been quietly watching the clouds, simply said, "Nora."

The other three turned to look at him.

"…That's it?" Sun asked.

Ren nodded once. "That's it."

Cardin shook his head with a small smirk. "Big surprise."

"And you, Cardin?" Sun prompted. Cardin coughed.

"Ah, well... I-I asked Velvet."

Ren raised an eyebrow. Cardin scowled.

"She said yes! I'm trying to make up for stuff and-and she really likes Sam! I mean, once she got past the toddler with Aura who loves bunnies!"

More staring, and a few smirks. Cardin turned bright red. Jaune snickered into his jacket.

"It's to make up for being a dick, okay?! I don't like her like that!"

Sun coughed something that suspiciously sounded like 'tsundere.'

"Oh screw you guys!" Cardin growled, as the others chuckled.

Of course, after this...All three of them then slowly turned their heads toward Jaune.

Jaune, who had been hoping to avoid this exact moment, scratched the back of his neck. "I'm probably just gonna take Mia."

The silence that followed was loud.

Cardin was the first to speak, his voice flat. "That's the coward's way out, Arc."

Sun nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man. That's rough."

Ren didn't say anything, but the look he gave Jaune said enough.

Jaune frowned. "It's not cowardice. It's practical. If I pick one of them, it's gonna cause problems. We've got our first real training missions coming up soon. The last thing I want is to split the teams because of some stupid dance drama."

Cardin raised an eyebrow. "So your solution is to hide behind your four-year-old daughter?"

Jaune's ears went pink. "I'm not hiding behind her-!"

"Yeah, you are," Sun cut in, surprisingly blunt. "Look, I get it. You've got a lot of girls who like you. That's a good problem to have. But using Mia as a shield so you don't have to choose? That's not fair to her either."

Ren finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "You need to pick one. And then let the others deal with it. Avoiding the choice isn't going to make things easier. It's just going to drag it out."

Sun nodded. "Exactly. It's not the end of the world if you pick someone. The teams are tougher than that. And Mia's gonna get bored at a dance full of teenagers anyway. She shouldn't be used as an excuse."

Jaune stared down at his hands, jaw tight. He knew they were right. Deep down, he'd known it for a while. But the thought of choosing one girl and hurting the others - especially when they all meant so much to him and to Mia - made his stomach twist.

"…It's not that simple," he muttered.

Cardin shrugged. "It never is. But you still gotta pick."

Sun clapped a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Look, we're not saying it's gonna be easy. But hiding behind your kid isn't the answer either."

Ren gave him a small, understanding nod. "You're a good father, Jaune. But you're also allowed to want something for yourself."

Jaune didn't have a comeback this time. He just sat there, staring out at the darkening sky, the weight of their words settling in.

He took a deep breath.

"All right... I'll make a choice."

"Good," Cardin nodded. "Because I swear if you become an actual harem protagonist, I will murder you. Leave some for the rest of us!"

"You already have Velvet," Sun deadpanned. Cardin went bright red.

"I-I DO NOT! IT'S-I'M JUST NOT BEING A DICK!"

"Sure Cardin," Ren deadpanned, as Jaune sighed in a little bit of relief. Picking on Cardin got the attention off him...

But the issue remained.

And he had a choice to make.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

• Name: Brand Arc
• Allusion: Kento Nanami from Jujutsu Kaisen, Jehan D'Arc du Lys (brother of Joan of Arc).
• Naming Process: Brand is of Old English origin, meaning "sword" or "fiery torch," reflecting both his sharp, cutting efficiency in combat and the quiet inner fire he keeps restrained beneath a professional exterior.
• Background: Brand was only nine years old when his parents, Jonathan and Elizabeth Arc, were killed in a Grimm assault. While his older siblings took more direct paths to support the family, Brand worked tirelessly as a Huntsman's apprentice in a trade-school program to earn a scholarship to a respected business academy. He moved to Atlas and joined Njord Investments, the most powerful investment firm in the kingdom. Through raw competence and relentless overtime, he rose quickly, amassing significant wealth that he quietly funneled back to support his siblings and extended family. However, by his thirties he found himself emotionally hollow: Nothing but work, money, and an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Disillusioned with the corporate world, Brand walked away from his lucrative career, returned to Vale, obtained his full Huntsman license, and threw himself back into active duty fighting Grimm, bandits, and terrorists. He now operates as an independent Huntsman-for-hire, taking high-risk contracts while maintaining some financial consulting work on the side. He remains a steady, reliable presence in the Arc family, often acting as the blunt voice of reason among his more flamboyant or idealistic siblings.
• Race: Human
• Emblem: An Arc double rainbow symbol with a cleanly split hourglass with sand frozen mid-flow, crossed by a tomahawk blade.
• Weapon: "Overtime": A sturdy, blunt-headed tomahawk with a reinforced haft and a wide, cleaving blade. The weapon is designed for devastating chopping power and can be thrown with precision. It features Dust channels for enhanced impact force, allowing Brand to deliver crushing strikes.
• Semblance: "Weakest Point"
  • Brand can instinctively perceive the weakest structural or vital point on any target—whether object, Grimm, or person. He can then strike with a focused burst of Aura to create or widen these weak points, allowing him to cleave, hew, or cut targets with surgical longitudinal precision. This makes him exceptionally effective at dismantling armored Grimm, breaching fortified positions, or delivering lethal finishing blows. The Semblance requires concentration and drains Aura more heavily when used on highly durable targets.
• Appearance: Tall and solidly built with the signature Arc blonde hair (kept short and neat) and sharp blue eyes. He stays clean shaven and carries himself with the tired but alert posture of a man who has seen the cost of both corporate drudgery and battlefield violence.
• Outfit: A crisp white suit jacket and trousers over a light blue dress shirt, held by dark suspenders. He wears a distinctive leopard-print tie and goggle-style sunglasses that give him a sharp, professional-yet-unconventional look. The outfit is surprisingly durable and practical for combat despite its tailored appearance.
• Personality: Gruff, blunt, and deeply cynical about adulthood and "the system," Brand often speaks in tired, matter-of-fact tones about the futility of endless work and adult responsibilities. Beneath this stoic, world-weary exterior lies a profoundly compassionate man who is quietly enraged by the suffering of the innocent. He is willing to use lethal force without hesitation when protecting others, but he takes no joy in violence. He is loyal to his family, supportive in his own dry way, and values clear boundaries and honest effort. He frequently teases his more dramatic siblings (especially Alexander) but will stand beside any of them without question when it matters.
• Notes: Brand represents the grounded, pragmatic side of the Arc family. While he complains about "working overtime" in both his old banking career and current Huntsman life, he continues to take difficult missions because someone has to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He is respected (and sometimes feared) by both corporate elites in Atlas and the criminal underworld for his efficiency and moral clarity. To his nephew Jaune and the younger generation, he is the reliable but slightly grumpy uncle who always shows up when needed. His return to active hunting was a personal reclamation of purpose—choosing meaningful struggle over comfortable emptiness. He also helped Isabel with her financial planning and ensured Radian's financial revival was possible.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

• Name: Trey Arc
• Allusion: Sanji Vinsmoke from One Piece
• Naming Process: Trey is an English name meaning "three," fitting him as the youngest of the Arc siblings. It also carries a casual, approachable feel that matches his upbeat and flirtatious personality.
• Age: Late twenties
• Background: Trey was only four years old when his parents, Jonathan and Elizabeth Arc, were killed in a Grimm attack. As the youngest child, he was heavily doted on by his older siblings (Isabel, Brand, Alexander, and Irene) and his grandparents Arturia and Shirou. Refusing to remain a burden on his grieving family, Trey ran away at thirteen to join the Valean Merchant Marine. He snuck aboard a ship that was later sunk by a Sea Grimm. Stranded at sea with the ship's head cook, Jeff, Trey survived only because Jeff gave him all the food and later sacrificed his own leg to keep the boy alive. Deeply humbled by this sacrifice, Trey begged Jeff to teach him everything he knew. After their rescue, Jeff took Trey under his wing, training him in elite cuisine, Capoeira martial arts, sailing, and combat. Jeff unlocked Trey's Aura and helped him develop his combat skills. Eventually, Jeff founded the Baratie - a massive seafaring restaurant ship that travels between Vale and Anima ports. Trey became both the head cook and the primary defender of the vessel, protecting it from Grimm and pirates while honing his craft. He now splits his time between running the kitchen on the Baratie and taking occasional missions on land, often visiting family in Vale.
• Race: Human
• Emblem: A flaming skillet crossed with the Arc double rainbow and a swirling flame — symbolizing passionate cooking, chivalrous romance, and burning spirit
• Weapon: None
• Semblance: "Flames of Passion"
  • Trey can superheat his Aura around his hands and especially his legs, generating intense flames that enhance his cooking (perfect searing and flambé) and turn his kicks into devastating fiery strikes. At full power, his legs become wreathed in black-and-red flames capable of melting armor and burning through Grimm hide. The Semblance also lets him ignite the air for explosive propulsion mid-kick.
• Appearance: Tall and lean with the classic Arc blonde hair (worn slightly longer and stylishly messy) and bright blue eyes. He has a perpetual charming smile and a small, well-groomed goatee. His build is athletic and graceful from years of Capoeira and shipboard labor.
• Outfit: A sharp, tailored black suit with a blue dress shirt (top buttons often undone), a long red tie, and a white apron when cooking. On the Baratie or in combat he rolls up his sleeves and may remove his jacket. He almost always wears polished black dress shoes perfect for delivering powerful kicks.
• Personality: Trey is an incorrigible flirt and hopeless romantic who genuinely appreciates beauty and treats women with sincere chivalry. He is lustful but never crude or disrespectful - he would rather starve than raise a hand against a woman. His flamboyant, dramatic personality and love of grand declarations often exasperate his siblings, but underneath the theatrics lies a deeply compassionate and loyal man shaped by the sacrifice that saved his life. He is generous with food and praise, quick to defend the weak, and fiercely protective of his family. He frequently gives his nephew Jaune overly enthusiastic (and often impractical) romantic advice while quietly envying the boy's natural luck with women. He's a smoker, a habit he shares with his eldest sister.
• Notes: Trey is the beloved (if sometimes embarrassing) youngest brother of the Arc siblings and the fun, flirtatious uncle to Jaune and his sisters. He remains extremely close with Jeff, whom he considers a second father. While he enjoys the wandering life aboard the Baratie, he makes regular visits home to cook massive family meals and check on everyone. His gentlemanly code and fiery combat style make him a dangerous opponent on the seas and a warm, comforting presence in the kitchen. Despite his playful exterior, Trey carries quiet gratitude for every meal he serves - a living reminder of the man who gave everything so he could survive.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The hallways of Beacon were quieter than usual in the late afternoon, most students either in classes or training. Yang walked beside Mia, the little girl's tiny hand tucked in hers as they made their way back from daycare. Mia was humming softly, ears twitching every time they passed a particularly interesting poster.

Then she stopped dead in her tracks.

Yang nearly tripped over her. "Whoa, kiddo. What's up?"

Mia pointed at a brightly colored flyer taped to the wall. "What's that?"

Yang followed her gaze and smiled. "Oh, that? It's for the Beacon Dance. It's coming up soon. Big party for all the students — and kids from the other schools too. Lots of music, dancing, snacks… basically an excuse to have fun and meet new people."

Mia tilted her head, ears flopping. "My mommy and daddy went to dances. Will you take Daddy to the dance?"

Yang's face instantly flushed bright red. "I- uh- I mean… I want to. Yeah."

Mia's eyes lit up like she'd just solved world peace. "You should! And then Auntie Pyrrha and Auntie Ruby and Auntie Weiss and Auntie Blake can all ask Daddy out too! Then we can all go together and have fun with Auntie Nora and Uncle Ren!"

Yang let out a strangled laugh, cheeks still burning. "Mia, sweetie… it doesn't really work like that."

Mia's ears drooped. She pouted up at Yang with the full force of a four-year-old's disappointment. "Why not?"

Yang opened her mouth… then closed it. "They… just don't?"

Mia's pout somehow got even more powerful. "But I want us to be a super happy family forever!"

Yang's heart did something complicated in her chest. She smiled softly, leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Mia's head. "I know, kiddo. I know."

She straightened up and pushed open the door to the RWBY common room.

Inside, Ruby, Weiss, and Pyrrha were huddled around the table working on homework. Blake was curled up on the couch with a book. Nora and Ren were in the middle of an intense round of Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots on the floor.

Mia took one look at the scene, took a deep breath, and shouted at the top of her tiny lungs:

"EVERYBODY! Ask my Daddy out to the dance so we can all have fun!"

The room went dead silent. Pens stopped moving. Pages stopped turning. Robot heads froze mid-punch.

Mia turned her intense little stare toward the floor. "Except Uncle Ren! You ask out Aunt Nora! Now!"

Ren blinked. "Uh—"

Nora's eyes went wide with pure joy. She slammed both fists on the table hard enough to rattle the robots.

"YES!"

The rest of the room exploded into a mix of laughter, sputtering, and frantic whispering as Mia stood there with her hands on her hips, looking extremely pleased with herself.

Yang sighed and patted her head.

"You sure know how to make an entrance, kiddo."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

In all honesty I feel that CRWBY didn't understand scale of... A world. You'd need a LOT more than 14000 Hunters for the planet. It's a planet.

As a rough example, it is estimated that Special Forces operatives across our entire planet number about 150,000–300,000 across every military on Earth worthy of the name. This has varying standards between militaries but this also slots in nicely with the percentage of people who are in the top 0.01% (1 in 10,000) of human abilities overall.

In the Itano-verse, therefore, with the population of Remnant at around a billion (Assuming a century of Salem lying low and reassessing her strategy, and technological advancement allowing for more expansive population growth) we get the following:

Revised Aura Tier Breakdown

Tier	% of Population	Estimated Number (at 1.0B)	Description
Elite Aura Hunters (RWBY/JNPR-class)	0.01%	~100,000	Licensed top-tier Huntsmen/Huntresses with powerful Aura reserves, highly useful Semblances, elite combat cognition, and formal academy-level (or equivalent) training. These are the top fighters, legends, and heavy hitters — Beacon graduates, veteran operatives like Qrow, Winter, Isabel and Nick Arc (in their prime), Alexander Arc on his best days, Neo, Cinder's group, etc.
Non-Hunter Aura Adepts	0.25%	2.5 million	Strong Aura + useful Semblances, but they never completed full Huntsman licensing (or chose not to). Includes: elite soldiers/mercenaries (most of Tangy's Salamander PMC), high-end private security, specialist medics (Aqua Arc level), intelligence operatives (Irene Arc), church paladins (Alexander's Section XIII), tech-enhanced fighters, etc. Competent and dangerous in their niches, but not "save the world" tier.
Marginal Aura Adepts	~2–4%	20 – 40 million	Basic Aura unlocking with moderate physical enhancement. Common among professional soldiers, rural militia (Nick's Radian forces), skilled laborers in Grimm-heavy areas, low-to-mid-tier mercenaries, elite athletes, Aura healers, and talented civilians. They're noticeably tougher than baseline humans but lack the Semblance firepower or skill to dominate big conflicts.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

You know, before Katy Sith, I did think of a different ex-girlfriend for Jaune Arc. Based on this Medusa:


View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jR0JeTrTc1c

Jaune: "So... Uh... This is my ex. Medusa."

Pyrrha: "Medusa?!"

Medusa: "Pyrrha!"

Glares. They hold up their weapons and get ready to fight

Jaune: "... I take it you two have met before?"

He says as he stands in the middle of the two women, both of whom look at him and then back at each other, narrowing their eyes.

Pyrrha: "Jaune, I need you to come to me."

Medusa: "No, don't listen to her Jaune, come this way."

Pyrrha: "Jaune, I'm asking you this as your partner, come over to this side."

Medusa: "Jaune, as one of your oldest friends, I'm telling you it's in your best interest to stand over here."

Pyrrha: "Jaune, if you value our partnership as well as friendship you'll stop listening to her, and stand by me."

Medusa: "Jaune, if you value our friendship, and out time together you'll ignore what she's telling you and come to me."

Jaune looks more conflicted than he ever has in entire life stuck between two impossible choices.

Jaune: 'What I wouldn't give for the universe to get me out of this situation!' He thinks to himself.

Yang: "Oh, there you are VB!"

Yang walks over to him, completely ignoring the looks of the two women brandishing weapons against one another, and picks Jaune up in a fireman carry.

Yang: "I'm going clubbing, but like hell am I going alone."

She smirks at him and pats his ass.

Yang: "Which means you're coming with me."

Jaune: "O-Okay..." He responds blushing up a storm for a number of reasons.

Two exit the room.

Pyrrha: "..."

Medusa: "..."

Pyrrha: "Truce?"

Medusa: "Truce."

Both Pyrrha and Medusa then sheath their weapons and run after Yang.

- - -

Medusa was a Snake Faunus girl who got her Aura and Semblance unlocked early: The ability to turn people into stone with a look. Alas, it doesn't work on Grimm. She was taken to Radian to be examined and helped by Isabel, and befriended Jaune as a child. She then went back to the Hellenic Confederation and became a great tournament fighter, having a rivalry with Pyrrha. But she always wanted to go see Jaune again, and so, after finally becoming champion of the Regional Tournaments and games she goes to see Jaune at Beacon.

Mainly it's because I did like Hercules (1998) and the animated series, especially his relationship with Medusa.

Written with help from @RedDragonEmpress

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Dance



- - -



Whitley Schnee had not planned on attending the Beacon Dance.



He had come to Vale for a short, quiet diplomatic meeting. He'd ended up befriending one of his sister's friends, who had helped him procure a gun and a few other things. So far, so good. He had visited Beacon, intent on practicing his shooting with her.



Instead, he found himself being physically dragged across campus by an extremely determined Ruby Rose, who had spotted him in the courtyard and declared, "You're coming with me!" before he could protest.



Now here he was, dressed in a sharp black suit with silver accents, standing awkwardly near the punch bowl while the music pulsed and students danced around him. Ruby, in a striking red-and-black dress that somehow still looked like it could double as combat gear, beamed up at him.



"Isn't this great?!" she shouted over the music, bouncing on her toes. "You look really nice, by the way!"



Whitley adjusted his cufflinks, trying to hide his discomfort. "This is… certainly an experience. I don't usually attend school dances."



The dirty looks he was getting from Faunus students and his sister certainly didn't help.



Ruby grabbed his hand. "Then tonight's your first! Come on, let's dance!"



Before he could argue, she pulled him onto the floor. Ruby danced like she fought — with wild enthusiasm and zero regard for proper form. Whitley, who had been trained in classical ballroom since he could walk, found himself completely outmatched. He ended up laughing despite himself as Ruby spun him around like a top.



For a few blissful songs, it was just fun. No politics. No pressure. Just Ruby's bright laughter and the warmth of her hand in his.



They took refuge near the punchbowl, panting. Ruby's cheeks were flushed. She then turned.



"Oops! Gotta go to the lady's room! Be right back!"



She dashed off, leaving the young Schnee to watch after her.



"Having fun, huh?"



He started and looked back. Jaune Arc, Ruby's friend, smiled at him. Whitley managed a quick nod.



"Yes... She's uh... she's something else."



"She sure is," Jaune said with a knowing and intense look. A look that promised death and pain. Whitley gulped.



"Ah... I mean... She's very dear to me and I'm not about to-"



"What?" Jaune asked. He blinked. "Ohhh... Was I making the 'Big Brother' look? Sorry... It's kind of instinctual now. Guess it's how I see Ruby... As a little sister." He stared at Whitley, hard.



Whitley coughed.



"I uh... I promise I have no ill intentions-"



"I know," Jaune said, "Just keep it that way, huh? I'm the nice one. Yang's not as forgiving." He smiled and leaned forward, staring into Whitley's eyes. "I'd just commit quick, brutal violence if you did anything to hurt Ruby. Her? She'd make it last."



Whitley stared back into Jaune's eyes, his heart thumping. He slowly nodded.



"Point taken."



"There you are!" Ruby cried, beaming as she bounced over. "Come on, let's get some fresh air together. The view from the upper walkway is really pretty!"



Before he could politely decline, she had grabbed his hand and was leading him along the moonlit paths. Whitley allowed himself to be pulled along, secretly grateful for the escape. And the skyline was beautiful in the broken moonlight. He could admit this.



They had only been walking along the upper walkway for a few minutes when Ruby suddenly froze. Whitley frowned and turned to her.



"What?"



Ruby pointed down.



"Do you see that?"



Whitley followed her finger. He narrowed his eyes.



A dark figure in a hooded cloak was moving swiftly across the rooftops, heading straight for the CCT tower.



"That's not a student," Ruby muttered, silver eyes narrowing. "Come on, Whitley! We have to check it out!"



"We do?" Whitley asked. "Shouldn't we call security or-Ruby, wait-!"



Too late. She exploded into rose petals, dragging him along in a whirlwind of motion. They landed on a rooftop near the CCT tower just as the intruder slipped inside through a maintenance entrance.



Ruby unfolded Crescent Rose with a determined grin. "Alright, mysterious hooded person! Time to see what you're up to!"



Whitley adjusted his suit jacket, feeling very out of place in his dress shoes. "Perhaps we should call for backup—"



But Ruby was already moving. He sighed and followed.


- - -


They entered the CCT control room just as the intruder reached the main console, fingers flying across the holographic interface.



Ruby leveled her scythe. "Hey! You're the same jerkface as before! Surrender or face justice!"



Whitley stepped forward, trying to sound diplomatic. "Excuse me, this is a restricted area. Maybe we could discuss this peacefully before-!"



The intruder spun around. A gloved hand flicked outward, and a roaring fireball hurtled straight toward them.



Whitley reacted on pure instinct. He thrust his hand forward, a brilliant white Glyph flaring into existence. The fireball slammed into the shield and burst apart harmlessly-Though he felt his Aura take a huge hit.



Okay... Good to know...



Ruby didn't hesitate. She launched forward in a storm of rose petals, Crescent Rose spinning wildly.



Whitley drew the compact pistol Ruby had insisted he buy and opened fire: Controlled, precise shots that forced the intruder to dodge and weave as he ran to cover.



The fight was fast and brutal. Ruby's whirlwind strikes kept the hooded figure on the defensive while Whitley provided covering fire from behind a console. Between the two of them, they drove the intruder back. With a frustrated snarl, the figure unleashed a final burst of flames as a smokescreen and vanished through a shattered window.



Ruby stood panting in the center of the room, scythe still spinning down. Then she turned to Whitley, eyes sparkling with adrenaline and joy.



"You were incredible!" she cried, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. "That Glyph thing was so cool! And your shooting — you actually hit them!"



Whitley, still catching his breath and covered in a light layer of dust, hugged her back without thinking. "I… thank you. I was mostly just trying not to die."



Ruby pulled back just enough to look at him — cheeks flushed, silver eyes bright — and then, on pure impulse, rose up on her toes and kissed him.



It was quick. Soft. Over before either of them could process it.



She jerked back, face turning bright crimson.



"I— I'm sorry! I didn't mean— I just got excited and you were really cool and I—"



Whitley stared at her, heart hammering in his chest.



Then, very quietly, he muttered:



"Don't be."



Ruby blinked, still flushed. "Huh?"



Whitley looked away, ears pink. "I… didn't mind."



The silence between them stretched for a heartbeat.



Then Ruby smiled — small, shy, and genuinely happy.



"…Okay. Cool."



She took his hand again, squeezing it. He squeezed back.



"Come on. We should tell the professors what happened."



"Yes, we should..."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

@CountvonBarnOwl

Cosmetics

- - -

It started with a new shade of lip gloss.

Ruby had been spending more time in front of the mirror lately. Not for vanity - though she'd never admit it - but because she wanted to look… nice.

For someone specific.

Whitley noticed immediately when she met him in Vale for their usual weekend outing. Her lips had a soft rose tint, and her eyes looked a little brighter thanks to a touch of mascara. She kept fidgeting with her cloak, clearly self-conscious.

"You're staring," she said, poking his arm as they walked along the quiet street.

"You look different," Whitley replied, honest as always. "In a good way. The color suits you."

Ruby's cheeks turned pink, but she grinned. "Yeah? I've been trying some stuff out. Yang said I should experiment more now that we're… you know. Dating."

She tugged at a strand of her short, choppy hair, suddenly looking uncertain.

"I've also been thinking about my hair," she admitted. "I used to have it longer when I was younger. But then I cut it because it kept getting in the way during fights. Now I'm wondering if I should grow it out again… or keep it short and neat like this."

Whitley tilted his head, studying her with that quiet, thoughtful expression she'd grown so fond of.

"Would you like my honest opinion?"

Ruby nodded quickly. "Yes, please."

He reached out and gently brushed a stray lock behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment.

"You'd look beautiful either way, Ruby."

She blushed deeply, caught off guard by how sincere he sounded.

"Really? You don't think I'd look better with longer hair? Or… sleeker?"

Whitley shook his head, a small, warm smile tugging at his lips.

"I like your hair the way it is now. It suits you. But if you grew it out, I think you'd look elegant and strong." He shrugged lightly. "Either way, you'll still be you. And I happen to like you very much."

Ruby's face went from pink to full tomato in record time. She hid it by burying her face against his chest, muffling a happy little squeak.

"You can't just say things like that!" she protested, voice muffled by his coat. "It's not fair! My heart's not ready!"

Whitley chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her in that careful, protective way of his.

"I'll try to warn you next time."

They stood like that for a long moment, Ruby's arms eventually sliding around his waist as she hugged him back.

"…Thank you," she whispered. "For not making fun of me for caring about this stuff."

"I would never," he said quietly. "You're allowed to want to look nice. And you're allowed to change your mind as many times as you want. I'll be here for all of it."

Ruby pulled back just enough to look up at him, silver eyes sparkling.

"Even if I go full dramatic long hair with a bunch of clips and ribbons?"

"Even then." He smirked. "Though I'd tease you about it."

"Jerk!" She grinned, bright and full of mischief again.

"Well, good. Because I'm thinking about trying a ponytail next week. With a little red bow. Think you can handle that level of cuteness?"

Whitley pretended to think about it very seriously.

"I'll do my best to survive."

Ruby laughed and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"You're the best, Whitley."

And as they continued their walk, hand in hand, Whitley couldn't help but think that maybe — just maybe — he was the lucky one in this relationship.

Because no matter how Ruby chose to look, she would always be the brightest part of his day.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon training arena had been cleared for "sparring practice," but everyone knew what this really was.

Yang Xiao Long cracked her knuckles, hair already flickering with ember sparks, eyes locked on Jaune like he was a particularly stubborn heavy bag. Jaune stood opposite her, Crocea Mors drawn, shield up, calm and focused—the picture of disciplined readiness.

Blake leaned against the wall with a stack of philosophy texts, ready to feed Yang lines. Pyrrha watched from the sidelines with that too-bright smile. Weiss sat with perfect posture, pretending to read but sneaking glances. Nora was cross-legged on the floor with Ruby, eating cookies and watching eagerly. Ren sipped tea, serene as ever.

Yang grinned, bouncing on her toes. "Alright, VB. You wanted a debate fight? Let's go. Rousheau says man is born free, but everywhere he is in chains! Society corrupts us—true strength is breaking those chains!"

She launched forward, a fiery right hook aimed at his shield.

Jaune blocked smoothly, voice steady even as the impact rang out. "Saint Augustin of Hippo would disagree. We are born in sin—original corruption. True freedom comes not from breaking chains, but from submitting to divine order and grace."

He countered with a precise shield bash that forced Yang back a step.

Yang growled, hair flaring brighter. "Blake—hit me!"

Blake called out, "Nietzsche! The will to power! God is dead, and we create our own meaning through strength!"

Yang roared, unleashing a flurry of explosive punches. "Exactly! We don't need some cosmic lion telling us what's right—we make our own rules! Übermensch, baby!"

Jaune parried and riposted, sword flashing. "Thomas Aquin would say natural law is written into creation itself. Reason leads us to the divine. Denying that is denying truth!"

Yang ducked under a slash, came up inside his guard, and drove a knee toward his gut. Jaune twisted, taking it on the thigh plate.

"You're so damn calm!" Yang snarled, face flushed—anger and something else mixing. "How do you just—argh!"

"Clive Staples of the Lion's Ward," Jaune continued, oblivious, pressing his attack with measured strikes, "argued that desire for joy points to something beyond this world. Aslanism isn't chains—it's fulfillment!"

Yang blocked a shield bash with her gauntlets, sparks flying everywhere. "That's just coping! We don't need fulfillment from some fairy tale—we take what we want! We burn bright and—damn it, Jaune, stop being so reasonable!"

She was breathing hard now, hair fully ignited, eyes wild.

Blake was frantically flipping pages, muttering "Um—will to power—overman—something—"

Pyrrha's grip on Milo tightened until the metal creaked.

Weiss's book was forgotten in her lap, cheeks pink.

Nora looked up from her cookies. "In Nora belief, the ultimate truth is smashing things really hard until they stop being problems!"

"Ooh, I like that!" Ruby grinned.

Ren sipped his tea. "The Middle Way suggests neither extreme assertion nor denial, but balance."

Yang wasn't listening anymore.

Jaune had just finished another perfectly calm counterpoint: "Grace perfects nature, it doesn't destroy it-!"

Which is when Yang snapped.

She lunged, not with a punch, but with both hands grabbing his breastplate, yanking him forward, and kissing him hard enough to rattle his teeth.

The arena went dead silent.

Jaune's eyes went wide. His sword and shield clattered to the ground.

Yang pulled back an inch, breathing fire—literal and figurative. "There. Shut up for five seconds."

Jaune stared, mouth open, brain completely offline.

Pyrrha's aura flared so violently the air shimmered. Her smile could have frozen hell.

Weiss made a strangled noise, book snapping shut. "I-that is completely-uncouth-seriously?!!"

Blake's ears were flat, face a confusing mix of frustration and something that looked suspiciously like jealousy. "I... provided excellent philosophical support..."

Nora slammed her book shut. "Smashing is still better!"

"Oh wow," Ruby mumbled, bright red but refusing to look away, her face a confusing cacophony of emotions.

Ren set his tea down gently. "Desire is the root of suffering."

Yang pulled back, hair settling back to gold, cheeks blazing brighter than her semblance.

"...So. Uh. Rematch tomorrow?"

Jaune, still stunned, managed a dazed nod.

The debate was over.

The war for Jaune Arc's attention?

Just heating up.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Charity

The new Schnee Manor was alive with soft lighting, crystal chandeliers, and the quiet murmur of Atlas's elite. The event was a charity gala raising funds for those still displaced and struggling in the long shadow of the Salem War.

Ruby Schnee walked in. She had just returned from a quick Grimm hunt near the SDC mines with Weiss and Jaune. Her combat skirt was still slightly dusty, her cloak a little rumpled, but her silver eyes lit up the moment she spotted her husband across the room.

And then she saw her.

A tall, overly made-up woman in a slinky crimson dress was practically draped over Whitley's arm, laughing far too loudly at something he hadn't said. One of her manicured hands rested possessively on his chest as she leaned in close, clearly trying her luck with the richest, most eligible war hero on the planet.

Whitley's expression was the picture of strained politeness. He was scanning for an escape that wouldn't cause a scene, because of course he was.

He had been raised to always consider optics, especially at events like this.

Ruby, on the other hand, hadn't.

She crossed the ballroom with purposeful strides, Weiss and Jaune trailing behind her with matching amused expressions.

Without a word, Ruby slid between Whitley and the woman, wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, and kissed him soundly: Deep, warm, and unmistakably possessive.

Whitley made a surprised sound before melting into it, one hand settling on her waist (where it belonged).

When Ruby finally pulled back, she kept one arm looped around his neck and turned toward the woman with a sweet, menacing smile that could have frozen Vacuo in summer.

"Husband?" she asked, voice dripping with faux politeness. "Who is this girl?"

The woman in red froze, her hand still hovering awkwardly in the air where Whitley's arm had been.

Whitley, cheeks slightly flushed but visibly relieved, wrapped his arm more securely around Ruby's waist.

"Ruby, this is Miss Liora Veyne. She was just… expressing interest in the charity." He looked down at his wife with open affection. "Miss Veyne, this is my wife, Ruby Schnee."

Ruby's smile sharpened, silver eyes glinting like polished blades.

"Oh? How lovely. Thank you so much for supporting the cause. We really appreciate people who are generous... And know how to keep their hands to themselves when it comes to other women's husbands."

The woman stammered something about refreshments and quickly retreated into the crowd, tail between her legs. The conversation became a bit louder, as though everyone was trying to move on from the incident.

Whitley let out a quiet breath and looked down at Ruby with a mix of pride and amusement.

"You handled that remarkably well," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "No murder. No property damage. A proper Schnee indeed."

Ruby grinned up at him, still holding onto him tightly. "I'm learning. But if she touches you again, I will Crescent Rose her into next week."

Whitley chuckled softly. "I have no doubt."

Weiss, who had been watching from a few feet away with Jaune, rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smirk.

"Congratulations, brother. You've successfully trained the most dangerous woman on Remnant to be passive-aggressive instead of homicidal."

Ruby stuck her tongue out at her sister-in-law.

Jaune just laughed. "I think Ruby domesticated him, actually."

Whitley looked down at his wife, still in her slightly dusty combat gear, silver eyes sparkling with mischief and love, and felt a warmth in his chest that no amount of wealth or status could ever replicate.

He kissed her again, slower this time, right there in the middle of the charity gala, uncaring of who was watching.

"Let them stare," he whispered against her lips. "I'd rather have you than their approval any day."

Ruby's smile was bright enough to light up the entire room.

And for the rest of the evening, no one dared approach Whitley Schnee without first acknowledging the terrifyingly happy woman on his arm.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Cowboys of Remnant - Chapter 42 - AndrewJTalon - RWBY [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

archiveofourown.org

Jaune meets an old rival: And Pyrrha might pay the price.

- - -

The frontier town smelled of dust and cattle. JNPR had been tracking bandit activity for days when the stranger stepped out from behind a water tower, hands in his coat pockets, pink scarf fluttering like a taunt.

The man tipped his black hat. "Well, well. That any way to greet an old friend, Jaune?"

Jaune's hand was on Crocea Mors before the sentence finished. "State your business, Floyd."

Floyd's smile was all teeth. "Right to the point as always." He tipped his hat to the others. "Ladies. Sir. Pleasure."

Nora bounced forward. "Who's this guy, Fearless Leader?"

Floyd grinned. "Old cattle-drive buddies. Until Jaune decided to play hero."

Jaune's voice was flat iron. "Until you sold us out for an armored gold transport."

"It was written off! Lost! Ours for the taking. I would've split it fair—"

"That why you shot Bob and Nash in the back while their guns were still holstered?"

Floyd's smile twitched. "They wanted more than their share. Drew first."

Jaune's eyes narrowed. "Funny. Their pieces were still snapped in when we found the bodies."

Floyd shrugged. "I would've shared with you, Jaune. Even Old Man Rooster. But you had to be high and mighty."

"If you want revenge, take it on me," Jaune said. "Leave my team out of it."

Pyrrha stepped forward. "Jaune, no—"

Floyd's eyes gleamed. "Oh, I intend to. But first… some fun."

A tiny pink fairy no bigger than a firefly shot from his pupil, zipped across twenty yards, and dove straight into Pyrrha's ear.

Pyrrha's body locked rigid. Milo snapped into rifle mode and pressed under her own chin.

"PYRRHA!" Jaune roared.

She fought it, veins bulging. "I—I can't stop—!"

Three weapons trained on Floyd in an instant.

Floyd cackled. "Finally perfected my Semblance. Little thing called Lover's Fairies. Range is miles. Gets in the brain. I can make her pull the trigger… or just scramble the eggs and leave her smiling and drooling."

He made Pyrrha cock the rifle.

Jaune's voice cracked. "What do you want?!"

"I want you to suffer, Jaune Arc. And this?" He gestured at Pyrrha. "This is leverage."

He forced Pyrrha to grab Jaune by the collar and kiss him hard. Both went wide-eyed. Floyd howled with laughter.

"Figured you two do that all the time anyway. She looks like a slut."

Ren physically hauled Nora back before Magnhild could turn Floyd into modern art.

Floyd wiped a tear. "Here's how this works, Jaune. You do whatever I say, whenever I say it. Or the Invincible Girl paints the street with her brains. Deal?"

Jaune's voice dropped to a whisper. "Ren. Nora. Find a way to fix this. I'll buy time."

Ren's eyes were steel. "We will."

Pyrrha's voice shook. "I'll hold on."

Nora growled, but nodded.

Jaune faced Floyd. "Fine. You've got your hostage. Let's get this over with."

Floyd's grin was pure poison. "Excellent."

What followed was three hours of living hell.

Floyd made Jaune lie face-down in the street while he used Jaune's back as a footrest, sipping whiskey and telling the gathering crowd exactly how Jaune had "betrayed" him.

Next, Floyd whistled up three drunk ranch hands who still nursed a grudge from the old cattle-drive days. "Five hundred lien and you can beat him all you like! He'll keep his Aura down just for you!"

They took turns. Fists, elbows, a knee to the ribs that cracked something. Jaune coughed blood into the dust and didn't make a sound. Pyrrha's knuckles went white on Milo, tears of pure rage in her eyes, but the rifle never left her skin.

He forced Jaune to walk into the general store, stuff his pockets with candy and liquor, and walk out without paying while the shopkeeper watched in horror.

Then came the public apology. Floyd dragged Jaune to the center of town, forced him to his knees, and made him recite:

"I, Jaune Arc, am a thief, a liar, and a coward. I betrayed my friends and deserve everything I get."

Every word tasted like rust, but Jaune said them loud and clear while Floyd's fairy kept Pyrrha's rifle pressed to her own temple.

Floyd even made him dance—actually dance—a clumsy, stumbling jig in the middle of the street while the bandit clapped and laughed until he wheezed.

Through all of it, Jaune's eyes never left Pyrrha's. A silent promise in every bruise, every drop of blood: We'll get through this.

Ren and Nora worked in the shadows the whole time. Ren's Aura senses were very keen. He studied every bit of the Aura link of the Semblance, every time Floyd made Pyrrha do something. Nora was grim, chomping at the bit, but she let Ren work on it. She stayed silent.

Every time Jaune hesitated, Floyd twitched a finger and Pyrrha's rifle barrel dug deeper into her own chin.

But Ren and Nora kept working. They waited… Waited for just the right moment. Jaune spotted them as they hid behind a small wagon near Pyrrha.

"Hey, Jauney-Boy!" Floyd giggled. He tossed a Dust Grenade up and down in his hand. "You got a choice: You take the grenade blast… Or your slut does. What'll it be?"

Jaune grit his teeth as Pyrrha's eyes widened in horror.

"Jaune, no-!"

"Don't make a sound, Pyrrha," he stated angrily. "Not a damn word!"

She glanced at him, followed his eyes… And slowly nodded.

He took a deep breath and glared at Floyd.

"Fine," Jaune grunted. He walked away from it, keeping Floyd's eyes on him. He held his arms out. "Go right ahead."

Floyd grinned, tugging the pin and tossing the grenade at Jaune. A large explosion went off, blowing Jaune off his feet and slamming him into the dirt. The force of the blast knocked the wagon over, as Floyd cackled.

Pyrrha grit her teeth, tried not to cry out as she threw herself behind the overturned wagon. She looked up into Ren's eyes.

The green glad ninja pressed both palms to Pyrrha's temples, his Semblance pouring calm like ice water over her emotions, dulling her Aura just enough to interfere with Floyd's connection to his Semblance.

Nora's grenade produced a single, low-yield lightning round. She jammed the barrel against Pyrrha's ear and whispered, "Sorry, bestie."

CRACK!

A bolt of pink lightning shot out of Pyrrha's ear as the fairy inside flash-fried.

Pyrrha dropped to one knee, gasping, free.

Floyd's eyes widened as he felt his fairy die. He spun around, glaring at the overturned wagon. "You little-!"

He tried to spawn another fairy.

Jaune, bloody, bruised, and furious, got up, drew his sidearm and shot the new fairy out of the air before it could clear three feet.

Floyd went for his revolver.

A bronze blur later, Akoúo̱ slammed into his wrist and sent the gun spinning into the dirt.

Pyrrha Nikos, eyes burning, stepped forward.

"My turn."

The beatdown was biblical.

Nora brought the hammer down (literally). Ren delivered precise, surgical strikes that would ensure Floyd felt every one for weeks. Pyrrha beat the shit out of him, breaking his limbs and jaw, before she finished it with a single, contemptuous backhand that sent Floyd face-first into a water trough. His face broke it in half, and left him a soaked, broken mess.

Jaune staggered over to the nearest porch, and sat down. He was bruised, bleeding, and grinning like an idiot.

Pyrrha knelt beside him, gently touching his split lip.

"You okay?"

He laughed, hoarse but genuine. "Never better."

Nora whooped, pumping Magnhild in the air. "That's what you get for messing with our fearless leader!"

Ren allowed himself the tiniest smile. "And our Pyrrha."

Floyd groaned from the trough, half-drowned.

Pyrrha, hands trembling, cupped Jaune's bruised face.

"Jaune… thank you. You went through hell for me."

He looked at her, eyes soft despite everything.

"Pyrrha." His voice was hoarse, but steady as bedrock. "I was never going to stop. Not until you were safe. Not ever."

She stared at him, tears finally spilling over.

Then she kissed him—gentle, desperate, tasting of dust and relief and everything they hadn't said yet.