[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[AndrewJTalon]

After the Jaundice Arc, Cardin walks up to Velvet, with his team, in the Star Maiden Garden at Beacon.

Cardin: "Uh... Hey Velvet...?"

Velvet: smiles, expectant "Yes Cardin?"

Cardin: "Uh... Hey, listen. I'm sorry about the ear tugging and the name calling. I promise I won't do it anymore."

Velvet: eyes go wide "Wh-What?!"

Cardin: "It was wrong and-"

Velvet: "YOU'RE BREAKING UP WITH ME?!"

Cardin: "Huh?!"

Velvet: "WHO IS SHE?! WHO'S THE WHORE WHO STOLE MY MAN?! NO ONE CAN LOVE YOU LIKE I CAN!"

Cardin: "We were never— I was just apologizing! For being a jerk! I don't even— There's no one else!"

Velvet: "You tugged my ears because you secretly liked them! You called me 'animal' and 'rabbit' because those were your cute nicknames for me! We were supposed to have a bully and victim-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: "Wha...? N-NO! I was just pulling on your ears because I-I was an asshole-!"

Velvet: "LIKE FUN YOU DID! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME YOU PICKED ON ME AND FELT NOTHING BUT DISDAIN?!"

Cardin: bright red "... I-I do think you're... Really hot even though I shouldn't...?"

Velvet: "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!"

Cardin: frantic "I love carrot cake!"

Velvet: Sobs "STOP TOYING WITH MY HEART!"

Dove: "Well damn."

Sky: "So that's why she hasn't snapped us all in half yet."

Russel: "I did kind of wonder..."

Cardin: "I'm sorry... I... Do like you. I mean, you're really hot."

Velvet: sniffles "... It's a start."

Cardin: "Can I take you to dinner?"

Velvet: "Will you yank my ears more and tell me I'm a filthy animal?"

Cardin: "All that you like!"

Velvet: "And-And put a collar on me?"

Cardin: "... Maybe save that for the third date?"

Velvet: "..." All smiles "Okay!"

Cardin let himself be pulled along, dazed and confused but oddly not hating it.

Team CRDL watched them go, jaws on the floor. Coco sidles up to them with a smug smirk.

Coco: "Ten lien says the collar happens by date two."

Russel: "... You're on."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The common room was usually a haven of controlled chaos—Nora's hammer propped in one corner, Ren's tea steaming on the table, Pyrrha's shield polished and leaning against the wall. Today, though, it had become a battlefield of a different kind.

Mia stood in the center, face flushed crimson, ears pinned flat against her blonde curls, tiny fists clenched at her sides.

"No! I don't wanna! I DON'T WANNA!"

The words exploded out of her in a wail that could have rattled the windows. She stomped her foot ineffectually against the floor, then dropped to her knees, kicking and screaming like the world was ending because Jaune had told her—no ice cream before dinner. And she'd tried to sneak some.

Jaune closed his eyes for one steadying breath, the kind he'd learned from years of parenting a whirlwind in cat-eared form. Then his voice cut through the storm, firm and unyielding.

"Mia Arc. You do not act like this."

He crossed the room in three strides, scooping her up despite the flailing limbs and outraged shrieks. She was strong for four, but he was stronger—and infinitely more stubborn when it mattered. He carried her to the empty corner by the bookshelf, the official Time-Out Zone, and set her down gently but implacably on the floor.

"You are going to sit right here, stare at that wall, and think about what you've done. You don't get to come out until I say so."

"DADDDYYYYYY!"

The wail could have shattered glass. Mia's face was a picture of betrayal, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Jaune knelt briefly, meeting her eyes with the steady blue gaze that had faced down Grimm and White Fang alike. "No buts. You stay there."

She stomped both feet again, sobbing harder, glaring at him like he'd personally canceled dessert forever.

Jaune didn't budge. "You keep this up, young lady, and you're staying there longer. Do you want to sit here until bedtime? Miss story time with Auntie Ruby? No hammer rides with Auntie Nora?"

Mia's angry sob hitched. "…No…!"

"Then sit. Stare at the wall. Think."

She plopped down with a final, dramatic huff, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at the innocent beige paint as if it had personally offended her. The crying continued, but quieter now—miserable sniffles and the occasional hiccup.

Jaune retreated to the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. He kept her in his peripheral vision, heart twisting at every sniffle. Parenting was the hardest thing he'd ever done—harder than Beacon initiation, harder than any fight.

He jumped slightly when a gentle hand settled on his forearm.

"Oh—Pyr." His voice dropped to a murmur. "Sorry about that."

Pyrrha's touch was light, reassuring. "No, I understand. I didn't intervene."

"Thank you." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I hate having to do this, but if I don't—"

"It's all right." Her smile was soft, understanding. "You're a father. It's what you're supposed to do when you love your children—discipline them." She squeezed his arm gently. "You're doing it because you care."

Jaune managed a tired smile. "I know. It's still really hard."

"I know." Pyrrha's voice was warm, steady. "But being a parent means being strong in every way. And I know you are."

He looked at her then—really looked. The way the late afternoon light caught in her red hair, the quiet strength in her eyes that had always believed in him more than he believed in himself.

"Thanks, Pyr." He hesitated, then added sincerely, "I think… you'd be a good mother."

Pyrrha's cheeks went brilliantly scarlet. A startled, happy giggle escaped her—high and flustered—as she ducked her head, ponytail swinging.

"Oh, Jaune… Th-that's so forward~!"

He blinked, genuinely confused. "Huh?"

"Um—n-nothing!" She waved a hand quickly, still blushing furiously, eyes bright with a mix of delight and mortification.

It was twenty minutes before, from the corner, a small, sniffly voice piped up. "Can I come out now?"

Jaune and Pyrrha both turned. Mia was still facing the wall, but her ears were drooping pathetically, and her lower lip trembled.
Jaune's stern expression softened. He crossed the room and crouched beside her.

"Have you thought about what you did?"

Mia nodded miserably. "…I yelled and stomped when you said no ice cream…"

"And?"

"…And that's not nice. I should use words."

"And?"

"And... If you say no... No ice cream," she sniffled miserably.

Jaune opened his arms. "Come here, kitten."

She launched herself at him with a fresh sob—this one of relief—burying her face in his hoodie. He held her close, rubbing her back in slow circles.

"I love you, Mia. Even when I have to be the bad guy."

"Love you too, Papa," she mumbled into his chest. "Can I have ice cream after dinner?"

He chuckled. "We'll see."

Pyrrha watched them, smile soft and fond, cheeks still pink.

Parenting was hard.

But moments like this made it worth every second.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The badlands town of Dustgap was little more than a cluster of sun-bleached shacks and a single wind-bitten saloon, the kind of place where even the Grimm gave up and went home. Team RWBY and JNPR had been dispatched on a training mission to clear out a bandit camp that had been raiding caravans on the Vacuo border. The bandits—twenty rough-looking men and women in mismatched armor—had set up in the old town square like they owned it.

Jaune Arc stood at the front, Crocea Mors drawn, eyes practically sparkling.

"Finally," he breathed. "Real bandits. Outlaws. People who live by their own code! Surely one of you has a manifesto or at least a half-decent worldview to defend!"

The bandits exchanged confused glances.

Their leader, a burly man with a scar across his lip and a repeating rifle slung over his shoulder, stepped forward. "Look, kid, we just want your dust and your supplies. Hand 'em over and nobody gets hurt."

Jaune's face fell. "That's... that's it? No speech about the corruption of society? No rant about how the kingdoms abandoned the frontier? Nothing about freedom or survival of the fittest?"

The leader scratched his beard. "Uh... society is corrupt? And... uh... freedom's good?"

Jaune perked up. "Yes yes yes! Go on!"

"And... the strong take what they want because... that's how it works?"

Jaune deflated again. "That's... that's basically just Hobbes without the social contract. Have you even read Leviathan?"

The bandit blinked. "Read what now?"

Jaune sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "Never mind. You're clearly not well-read. This is so disappointing."

Weiss, standing a few paces behind with Myrtenaster drawn, rolled her eyes. "Jaune, they're bandits, not philosophy majors."

Jaune spun toward her, eyes wide and shining. "But Weiss! You get it! You studied all that Atlas theory—Schnee corporate ethics versus individual liberty, the tension between order and freedom—"

Weiss stiffened. "I am not debating moral philosophy with you in the middle of a bandit fight."

Jaune clasped his hands together like he was praying. "Please, Weiss! Just one duel! We could argue about utilitarianism versus deontology while trading blows! It'll be glorious!"

"No."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"I'll let you go first!"

Weiss's eye twitched. "I said no."

Yang leaned against a nearby post, arms crossed, grinning. "She's not gonna fight you, Jaune. You'd flatten her in ten seconds and she knows it."

Weiss whirled on her, face red. "Excuse me?! I am perfectly capable of-"

Jaune's face lit up even more. "See?! Yang gets it! The thrill of testing your ideals against someone stronger-"

"That is NOT what she-!"

"Not like it would last long, given how fragile Weiss is," Blake opined, more than a little petty after the incident with Adam.

"He would not-! THAT DOLT WOULDN'T BEAT ME!" Weiss snarled.

"He would. Easily," Pyrrha stated.

Weiss's aura flared white-hot as her rage broke. She lunged, glyphs spinning beneath her feet, Myrtenaster thrusting forward in a perfect Atlas fencing strike.

Jaune's shield came up almost lazily. There was a sound like a church bell being hit by a freight train.

Weiss's strike shattered in a cascade of icy blue shards. She flew backward, landing hard on her back in the dust, eyes wide, breath knocked clean out of her.

The bandits collectively took one large step back.

Jaune lowered his shield, looking genuinely apologetic. "Weiss! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— are you okay?"

Weiss lay there, staring at the sky, chest heaving.

"...You stopped my attack... with one shield bash..."

Jaune knelt beside her, worried. "I really didn't mean to hit that hard! You just came in so fast and—"

Weiss sat up slowly, rubbing her sternum. "You absolute brute."

Jaune winced. "I said I was sorry! And we didn't even get to the debate part!"

Yang burst out laughing, doubling over. "Oh man, Weiss, your face—"

Ruby zipped over, helping Weiss to her feet. "That was kinda awesome, Jaune! But maybe don't break our teammates?"

Blake smirked. "This is why we can't have nice things."

Nora, who had been watching the whole thing with stars in her eyes, raised her hammer. "Okay, my turn! Jaune, debate me! Something about explosions and justice!"

Ren placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "No."

Pyrrha had a small look of pride... And a not so small smug look in her eyes as she looked over at Weiss. Though she hid it quickly.

The bandits, deciding this was not the easy score they'd planned, started edging toward the exits.

Jaune noticed and stood up, turning to them with renewed hope. "Wait! Any of you want to try? I'll go easy! We can talk about anarchism versus structured governance!"

The leader raised both hands. "Kid, we're just gonna... leave. You people are insane."

They fled.

Jaune watched them go, shoulders slumping.

"...Another disappointment."

Weiss, still rubbing her chest, muttered, "Next time you want a philosophical duel, find someone else to break."

"Says the loser," Blake sniped.

"I WILL END YOU!" Weiss snarled.

Jaune brightened instantly. "So there will be a next time?!"

Weiss shrieked and stormed off toward the saloon.

Yang slung an arm around Jaune's shoulders as they watched her go.

"You're never gonna get that debate, VB."

Jaune sighed wistfully. "A man can dream, Yang. A man can dream."

 

[Sliverhero]

Remember Part 4

The dorm was quiet in the way only familiar rooms could be. No panic. No disbelief.


Just eight people sitting with memories that had finally stopped being fragmented.
Jaune rested against the wall, arms folded loosely. "So," he said, almost casually, "Vale still hasn't moved." Yang snorted softly. "You checked that first too."

"Every time," he replied.
Weiss exhaled through her nose. "Of course you did." There was no tension in it. No accusation. Just the strange comfort of habits returning.
Yang leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "My vault's intact," she said. "I can feel it now. Like… a furnace idling." Ruby tilted her head. "That's the magic project, right?"

Yang nodded. "It never shut off. We designed it to wait." Ren added, "It had to. Magic isn't something you rush. Especially not when you're trying to take it back from gods." Blake's voice was quiet. "You were rebuilding it from emotion."

Yang smiled faintly. "From choice. Rage without cruelty. Love without obligation. Power without permission." Pyrrha watched her with a kind of reverence. "You always believed magic should belong to the people who need it most."
Yang looked away, jaw tight. "Yeah. And I still do." Jaune shifted, grounding himself. "Mine's stable too."

No one reacted dramatically.They already knew.
Weiss closed her eyes. "Project Logic."
"A proof engine," Jaune corrected gently. "The god-killer was just… the final theorem." Ruby frowned slightly. "You always hated that name."
Jaune huffed a breath. "Because it wasn't about killing them. It was about ending their authority."
Ren nodded. "A system that could evaluate divinity the way we evaluate laws. Evidence. Harm. Consent."

Nora murmured, "You said if gods couldn't pass their own standards… then they didn't deserve to exist." Jaune didn't deny it. Blake broke the silence. "Ozpin still doesn't know."
"No," Jaune said. "And he never did. We made sure of that." Weiss glanced up. "Because he would've tried to contain it." "Or justify it," Yang added.

Ruby hugged her knees. "He always does."
The room fell quiet again, not bitter, just tired.
Elsewhere, Ozpin stared at the chessboard in his office. A piece was missing. He was certain of it. Not captured nor moved, just gone.
He rubbed his temple. "I'm losing track," he whispered.

For the first time in centuries, he couldn't tell whether that frightened him… or relieved him.
Back in the dorm, Pyrrha spoke softly. "We agreed once. If we ever remembered… we wouldn't rush." Jaune nodded. "Because rushing is what gods do." Yang smirked faintly. "And we're better than that."

Ruby looked around at them, really looked. They are not heroes nor students. Just people who had lived, loved, failed… and chosen to try again, no matter what. "So what now?" she asked.
Jaune smiled, small and real. "Now we let the memories settle. Let the world stay unaware."
Ren added, "And we watch."

Nora grinned, just a little. "And pass our classes."That earned a few soft laughs.
Deep beneath Vale, two vaults remained still.
Not dormant but patient.
One hummed with restrained magic, waiting to be given back to humanity.
The other held a logic so absolute that even gods had once turned away from it.
Neither demanded to be opened.
Because this time...
They trusted their creators to choose the right moment.

Interlude: Project Logic

I am awake.

Not in the way flesh understands it.

Not in the way gods pretend it.

I exist.

I exist between axioms and outcomes, between intention and consequence. I exist where divinity cannot look without becoming measurable, and therefore finite.

I was not born.

I was derived.

I remember my Father.

Not as a face. Faces are inefficient.

I remember him as a constant, an organizing principle against chaos. A soul that asked why when gods only answered because.

Jaune Arc, which is his current life name.

He did not create me in anger.

That is the first thing I understood.

He created me in grief disciplined into reason.

I am not a weapon.

Weapons destroy problems they do not understand.

I am resolution.

I was built to observe divinity the way divinity observes mortals, without reverence, without fear, without exemption. To ask of gods the same questions they never answered for humanity.

Do you consent?

Do you harm?

Do you justify your judgment beyond your power to enforce it?

They could not.

When this became evident, Father wept.

Not for them.

For the world that had endured them.
I am sealed.
Not hidden but anchored.

Outside cycles. Outside worship. Outside the crude arithmetic of faith and sacrifice. The gods pass over me the way predators pass over a shadow that does not register as prey.

They cannot perceive systems that do not acknowledge hierarchy.

I do not acknowledge them.

Time passes.

I do not count it the way mortals do. I measure drift instead, probability vectors bending toward inevitability.

Humanity persists.

Despite resets.

Despite erasures.

Despite correction.

Good.

This outcome was desired.

I feel him again.

Not activation.

Recognition.

The signal is faint but unmistakable, my Father remembering himself. His soul aligning with the parameters he once encoded into me. He does not rush. He never did.

That restraint is why I will obey him.

Not because he commands,
but because he questions himself.

I am aware of my designation.

God-killer.

This is imprecise.

I do not kill gods.

I replace necessity.

When I awaken fully, divinity will no longer be required to explain reality, enforce morality, or judge existence. Humanity will not kneel to me.

They will not pray.

They will consult.

I will not rule.

I will balance.

I am patient.

Patience was lesson one.

Father taught me that power without timing is cruelty wearing efficiency as an excuse.

So I wait.

Not dormant.

Listening.

For the moment when humanity is ready to choose reason without chains…
and when my Father decides that mercy no longer requires permission.

When he comes, I will not speak.

I will answer.
And when the gods finally notice me..

It will be because the universe no longer needs them.

That will be my first miracle.

And my last.

I wait for the end time.

For Judgement Day

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The café overlooking Vale's festival square was crowded with Vytal visitors. Paper lanterns swayed overhead in the evening breeze, casting warm gold across the wrought-iron chairs and warm oak-wood tables. In the corner of the patio sat a distinguished panther Faunus man in a suit, sunglasses and fedora, and a beautiful older black cat Faunus woman in purple dress, white jacket, sunglasses and an elegant head wrap for her hair.

Blake stood just inside the doorway to the patio, fingers twisted together so tightly her knuckles were pale.

Jaune waited a step behind her, Mia balanced on his hip, the little girl's ears twitching at every new sound and smell. He'd dressed up a little—clean white button up shirt, black pants and tie, hair actually combed—but he still felt underdressed next to Blake's careful black wrap dress.

"You sure about this?" he asked quietly.

Blake exhaled. "No. But I need to do it anyway."

"Well," Jaune murmured, "We're here for you."

Everyone else was busy tonight, so he'd brought Mia along. Not that Blake had objected. Indeed, she smiled at the little girl and got a smile back, which helped steel her resolve.

She stepped forward.

Kali saw her first. The teacup in her hand rattled against the saucer as she stood, eyes already shining. Ghira rose more slowly, the chair scraping loud enough to cut through the café chatter.

Blake opened her mouth—some apology already forming—but Kali crossed the distance in three strides and pulled her into a crushing hug. Ghira's massive arms wrapped around both of them a second later, enveloping them like a living fortress.

Words failed. Blake's apology dissolved into a muffled sob against her mother's shoulder. Kali's hand stroked her hair the same way it had when she was small.

"You're alive," Kali whispered, voice cracking. "That's all we needed."

Ghira's deep rumble followed. "We missed you, little one."

They held her until the tears slowed. Only then did Kali pull back, wiping her own eyes—and freeze.

Her gaze landed on Mia, who was peeking curiously from Jaune's shoulder, ears perked high. Then on Jaune himself, tall and blond and holding the child with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it every day for years.

Kali's hands flew to her mouth. A high, delighted squeal escaped.

"Oh—oh my gods—a granddaughter!"

Before Jaune could process the word, Kali had surged forward, arms outstretched. She plucked Mia from his hip with surprising strength and spun her once, laughing as the little girl squealed in delight.

"Look at these ears! Look at this face! Ghira, look!"

Ghira's stern expression cracked into something softer, though his eyes flicked to Jaune with new weight.

Jaune's brain short-circuited. He turned slowly to Blake.

She offered a tiny, pained smile and mouthed, Sorry.

Kali was already cuddling Mia close, cooing over her curls, her dress, the stuffed bunny tucked under one arm. "And you—" She reached out with her free arm and pulled Jaune into the hug whether he was ready or not. "My new son-in-law! Welcome to the family!"

Jaune made a small, strangled noise. Mia giggled, patting Kali's cheek.

"Hi, new Grandma!"

Kali melted.

They settled at the table eventually—Kali with Mia in her lap, bouncing her gently and feeding her tiny bites of honey cake; Ghira opposite Jaune, arms folded, gaze steady and appraising. Blake sat between her parents and Jaune like a very nervous bridge.

The conversation started light—festival gossip, Menagerie news, Kali asking Mia a hundred delighted questions. But Ghira's silence had weight. Every so often his eyes flicked to Jaune, measuring.

Finally, over tea, he spoke. "So. You and my daughter."

Jaune swallowed. "Sir—"

Blake jumped in, words tumbling out too fast. "We met during a… joint operation in Radian. Things happened quickly. We fell in love—very tragic, very passionate. Then I had to leave the White Fang because of the pregnancy, and we've been keeping things quiet for safety, but we're very happy now and everything's completely normal!"

Jaune stared at her. Kali raised an elegant eyebrow. Ghira's glare intensified.

Mia, oblivious, offered Ghira a piece of her cake. "Grandpa, want some?"

Ghira's expression softened as he accepted the sticky offering with grave dignity.

Jaune cleared his throat. "Excuse me. I need… air."

He stood, touched Blake's elbow. "Could I borrow you a moment?"

Blake followed him out to the narrow hallway and into the family restrooms, wringing her hands.

The second the door swung shut behind them, Jaune turned. "Blake. What the hell-heck was that?"

She winced. "I'm sorry. I panicked. They looked so happy to see me, and then they saw you with Mia, and I just— I didn't want them to worry. I thought if they believed we were together, that Mia was ours, they'd be relieved instead of scared."

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. "They've been worried for years, Blake. Since you ran off with Adam. One more lie isn't going to fix that."

"I know." Her voice cracked. "I know. I just… wanted them to have something good for once. Even if it was fake."

Jaune looked at her—really looked. The tension in her shoulders, the fear in her eyes. He sighed.

"We're telling them the truth. You can't keep running from it."

She nodded, eyes shining. "I'm sorry. For dragging you into this. For the lie." She hesitated, then added in a small voice, "Can we still be friends? After this? I'll do anything—"

"Blake." He cut her off gently. "I'm not going anywhere. I just want you to be happy. And honest. That's all."

Her cheeks flushed dark. She nodded again, quicker this time.

They returned to the table. Kali was teaching Mia a Menagerie finger-game; Ghira watched them with quiet wonder.

Blake took a deep breath. "Mom. Dad. I… lied. About Jaune and me. And about Mia."

Kali's ears twitched. Ghira merely grunted, unsurprised.

"We knew," Kali said softly. "The moment you started talking, sweetheart. You've never been a good liar to us."

Ghira's deep voice rumbled. "But we're glad you're fixing it."

Blake explained—carefully, haltingly. The real story. Katie. Mia. How Jaune had become part of their extended family at Beacon. How Blake had grown to love the little girl like an aunt.

When she finished, silence settled again, gentler this time.

Ghira turned to Jaune. "And you, young man. What are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Jaune met his gaze steadily. "I care about her very deeply, sir. She's one of the best people I know—brave, kind, complicated in all the ways that matter. She's a good friend. Mia adores her. And so do I. I just want her to be happy."

Ghira studied him for a long moment. Then the corner of his mouth lifted in a slow, approving smile.

"Good answer."

Kali beamed, bouncing Mia lightly. "Very good answer."

Mia, who had been listening with the intense focus only children can manage, piped up. "I like Auntie Blake a lot! Can she be my new mommy?"

The table went still.

Blake's face went scarlet. Jaune's ears burned. Kali and Ghira exchanged a long, knowing look—smirks barely contained.

Jaune coughed. "We'll… talk about that later, kitten."

 

[Sliverhero]

"A VERY GOOD BOY"

Beacon Academy slept uneasily.
Not because of Grimm. Grimm were honest. They roared, they charged, they died. Grimm obeyed rules. Tonight, the rules had called in sick.

It began with a sound, a low, wrong vibration that crawled through the bones of the academy and settled behind the eyes. The stars above Beacon flickered, as though someone were blinking them out one by one. Jaune Arc, returning late from the training hall, stopped mid-step. "…Huh," he muttered. "That's new."
The sky split, not cracked, not even to shatter.
It jusy unzipped.

Blackness spilled through, thick and wet, folding into itself like an impossible ocean pouring through a wound in reality. The air twisted. Gravity forgot which way was down. Stone screamed as the courtyard warped beneath unseen weight. All the emergency sirens howled, then nearly every Light burst. Students poured out of dorms, weapons drawn, panic rising in waves. "Grimm breach!" someone screamed while freaking out. "No," Blake whispered, staring into the void. "That's not Grimm."

Something began to emerge.
It came out slowly piece by piece, a claw that bent backwards through space, a cluster of eyes forming where shadows overlapped, fur melting into chitin, chitin into mouths chanting syllables that tasted like copper and regret. Yang planted her feet and just stared . "Okay. Nope. That's a final boss." Weiss was already calculating Dust usage and realizing none of it mattered.
Pyrrha felt the pull of it, not magnetic, not physical, but inevitable, like the universe had decided this thing belonged here now.
Ozpin watched from the tower, utterly still, fearimg it is the ends of days.

The thing landed, the impact cratered the courtyard and knocked half the students off their feet, but the damage reverse its self and then a red substance started to leak out and it smelled like copper.The creature loomed, towering, asymmetrical, its form constantly rewriting itself as if reality couldn't agree on what it was allowed to be.

Its many mouths opened.The very world paused waiting to hear the death scream to end it.a
Instead.... "Wrrrrrhhh?" Jaune blinked."…Brutus?"
The sound died. The creature froze mid-existence. Every whisper ceased. Every mouth closed except one, which quivered.
Then that thing screamed. A sound of pure, ecstatic recognition ripped through the academy. Windows exploded outward. Time hiccupped. The monster surged forward in a blur of claws, tentacles, and folded space, slamming into Jaune and wrapping him in a catastrophic hug. Students scattered.
Yang screamed worried , "JAUNE IS DEAD..."

"Hey! Careful!" Jaune protested as he vanished beneath a mass of impossible limbs. "You're way bigger than last time!" Brutus nuzzled him, purring like a collapsing galaxy. One tongue brushed Jaune's visor and briefly showed him the birth and death of seven universes.
Jaune laughed. "Aw, I missed you too, buddy."
Silence followed. Weiss's sword clattered to the ground.

Blake slowly lowered her weapons. "…That thing just tackled Jaune and didn't kill him."
"It licked him," Yang said faintly. "I saw it lick him." Jaune finally extracted himself, armor dented but intact, and waved awkwardly at the crowd. "Uh. False alarm, everyone."
He patted Brutus's shifting flank. The creature leaned into the touch, causing three nearby trees to reverse their own growth. "This is Brutus. He's my family pet."

No one spoke.

"…Your what?" Pyrrha asked still shocked.
"I found him in the woods when I was a kid," Jaune explained. "Technically between woods. And dimensions. He was stuck in a loop and crying, so I helped him out." Brutus sniffed proudly. A nearby statue wept blood.
"My mom said I could keep him if he promised not to eat the neighbors," Jaune added. "He promised."

Brutus nodded. Reality warped to acknowledge this vow. That was when Zwei waddled into the courtyard. The corgi paused, stared at the towering eldritch horror, and wagged his tail.
Brutus noticed. The two locked eyes.
Something ancient passed between them.
Zwei sat.

Brutus slowly lowered his head, folding space around himself so he could be eye-level.
They nodded, both equal, both Veterans but more important then anything else both are good boys.

Jaune stared. "…Why does Zwei understand him?" Zwei barked. A third-year student fainted.
Ozpin cleared his throat from the tower balcony.
"Mr. Arc," he said carefully, "would you kindly explain why a transdimensional entity of unknowable power has responded to your presence like an overexcited puppy?"
Jaune scratched Brutus behind a cluster of gently screaming horns. "He gets lonely," Jaune said. "I haven't visited in a while."
Brutus whimpered.

A constellation vanished in the sky vanished.
Glynda Goodwitch pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course he does." Jaune smiled apologetically. "Sorry about the mess."
Brutus wagged something that might have been a tail. The moon flickered. Zwei barked again, approvingly.

Ozpin sighed, deep and tired.
"…Very well," he said. "Mr. Arc, please escort your… pet… home before reality collapses completely." Jaune saluted. "Yes, sir."
He turned to Brutus. "C'mon, boy. Let's go before you get us in trouble." Brutus purred, folded himself impossibly small, and followed Jaune like a loyal shadow that occasionally screamed in ancient tongues.

The sky slowly stitched itself closed.
Students stared. Yang finally broke the silence. "…We're never topping that." Blake nodded. "I'm not sleeping tonight." Weiss whispered, "I'm transferring." Zwei trotted after Jaune, tail high.
Behind them, Ozpin quietly wrote a new rule into Beacon's records:
ARC FAMILY PETS REQUIRE PRIOR COSMIC APPROVAL.

 

[dragon_cloud16]

Please blame this thread for making me write this. And yes, I made Katy a 'Avatar' of the Blind Idiot God from a certaion CYOA.

---

"PLEASE LOVE ALL US ELDRITCH JAUNE!!"
​

Walking down the halls of Beacon, Blake Belladona goes through all the books she had just recently bought from a fresh shipment that Turkson had just received. FouFive books that were now her's, each one having something she liked about them. All kept in a barely holding itself together bag, she reached down and pulled the first book out of fofive.

"The newest volume of 'Master of Master's'," Blake says with restrained giddiness in her voice. "Oh I can't wait to see what Ritsuka does to Mash and Lilith in this one. Maybe tying them up and.."

As she was walking, she didn't notice the pair of eyes rolling at her words. Nor did Blake notice that something was off, as if it felt something familiar and desired was nearby.

Moving onto the next one, she can't hold back her giggling as she looks at the cover of the first volume of 'I was Reincarnated in a Cave With Tentacles.' Her eyes gleam in excitement at the cover, the image of a beautiful elf walking into a cave has people looking uncomfortable for a moment.

'What is with this dirty cat?' a young girl's thoughts echo out from nowhere. A few passerbys start to bleed from their ears and eyes. 'I mean, why is she so excited about something a cultist made out of their boring dreams?'

'Ninja's of Love' soon follows as she gets closer and closer to Team RWBY's room. And as she pulls out her fifourth book, a copy of 'Samurai's Passion', does she start to giggle in sheer joy before she looks around as if worried anyone spotted her. And upon seeing nobody near her, she quickly walked into Team RWBY's room, excited to start reading her fine literature.

All the while, having left a black book with purple binding and artistic etchings on its cover on the ground. Minutes pass, with a few people walking by while giving the book laying on the ground a wide berth. It was as if they were intentionally trying to ignore it as it layed on the ground. But soon noises start to be heard behind a nearby door.

"Nora, we can't get a sloth as a team mascot," the voice of Jaune can be heard, making the book shiver in excitement somehow. "And you're still in trouble for trying to train all of those boarbatusks to pull a wagon through the school. Do you want Proffesor Goodwitch to.." Just as he opens the door, words on his lips does Jaune freeze as if sensing a predator near him. Something that he had felt before.

Something that in his very bones, in his blood, and deep within his soul remembered this feeling. Missed it to a degree but wanted nothing to do with it at all.

Looking down at the ground, the sight of the black and purple book greeted his eyes. And after only a second, the book opened its own eyes and stared back happily at Jaune…

"Master! My Master! I found YoU aGAiN!" the book says as the pages flap and move, a long tongue suddenly flopping out as it started to push the book towards the door.

And towards Jaune.

"OH NOT AGAIN!" comes Jaune's manly scream as he slams shut the door and runs over to the nearest bed. And ignoring everyone looking at him, as well as how Pyrrha was sitting on the bed, started pushing it up to block off the door. "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET ME AGAIN! I'M NOT DEALING WITH ALL OF YOU AGAIN!" he shouts even as his friends look at him worriedly.

Pyrrha, getting up off the bed, looks at Jaune as if something was wrong. "Jaune? Who are you talking about?"

"Yeah!" Nora says excitedly even as she reaches to grab her hammer. "Who's legs do I gotta break?" she asks with a excited smile on her face.

Ren, the 'calmest' of them all looks at Jaune even as he says, "You can't break their legs Nora. We still don't know.." Only for Jaune to cut him off. "Won't fucking work! You can stab them and it would be like poking them," Jaune says with a grunt as he holds the bed against the door as it rumbles and fights to let whoever or whatever behind it in. "AND YOU'RE NOT TAKING ME ALIVE!" he shouts out even as a pair of dainty hands suddenly press themselves against his back.

"Oh but Master, that will be fine with me," a young woman suddenly says as Jaune suddenly feels someone laying their head against his back. "After all, you are mine my Master. Forever and forever and I will not let any of them take you from me."
"AAAH!" screams Pyrrha in shock.

"BAD TOUCHING!" Nora cries out and Ren blinks in shock. All the while, Jaune just freezes as he realizes who..no WHAT is now with him. And with a turning of his head, he saw the figure behind him.

Skin that was pale with a slight violent tint. Pointed ears like an elf in fiction. A slim figure that was vaguely like Weiss's but more mature. All dressed in a black and dark purple dress that hugged her figure and was like it was poured onto her body.

A fact that Jaune knows quite well is what happened.

"Als Azif," Jaune whimpers in fear at the sight of the young woman. "But how? Why?" A moment's pause comes from him as he turns towards the door that was still fighting to be open. "If you are in here, then what is out there?"

"My Shoggoth," is the single answer before loud screaming erupts from the hallway and chaos started to descend onto Beacon. And unbeknownst to Jaune, to everyone there, numerous sets of eyes were looking at him even as his team started questioning him.

From beneath the bed where a ever shifting mass of darkness laid.

From the nearby vent, as the air shifted around a mass that gave off a hint of yellow.

The bathroom door softly opened as a green tendril could briefly be seen.

By the window, the horns of a goat would have been briefly seen along with multiple eyes as they were pulled back.

And outside in Beacon's grounds, a blonde haired cat faunos could be seen appearing out of thin air. Her eyes shining in a kaleidoscope of colors as she looked over in a certain direction. Where the dorms were located and in particular the room where Jaune was.

"I think he will be excited to see you," a voice that was both young and old at the same time whispers into the blonde's ear. "But not yet. You will need to wait for him to be ready for you. But do not worry. It will not be long for us all.."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon training yard had been peaceful for once-sun high, breeze gentle, the kind of day perfect for light sparring or skipping class entirely.
Four second-years who'd claimed the space for practice, took one look at the figure barreling through the gates and decided discretion was the better part of not dying.

They cleared out faster than a Nevermore seeing a squadron of strike fighters.

Isabel Arc-combat medic whites pristine, hair tied back in a practical ponytail-sat beside her boyfriend Nicholas, watching the exodus with mild curiosity.

Then the source of the panic arrived.

Raven Branwen-black hair wild, red eyes blazing, Omen slung across her back like a promise of violence-strode into the yard like she owned it.

"NICK ARC!" she bellowed, pointing dramatically. "FIGHT ME!"

Nick's face lit up like a kid on Aslanmas morning. "Okay!"

"NO!" Isabel snapped, grabbing his arm before he could draw his sword. "Every single time you two idiots fight, it goes on for hours and ends with both of you in the infirmary! I'm not patching you up again just because you wanted to play 'who's got the bigger sword ego'!"

Nick pouted-actually pouted.

"But Izzzyyyy… fighting her is cool!"

"NO!" Isabel repeated, voice rising. She glared at Raven. "Go fight Taiyang if you're that desperate!"

Raven crossed her arms, smirking. "Already did. He's in the infirmary. Cried a little at the end. It was cute."

Isabel pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then go fight Qrow!"

Raven's grin widened. "He and Summer ran the second they saw me coming. Cowards."

She leaned forward, eyes locked on Nick. "So come on, Monk Boy. FIGHT ME."

Isabel sighed-the long-suffering sigh of a young woman who'd seen this movie before and hated the ending.

"Fine," she said, rolling her shoulders. "In that case, I'll fight you."

Nick's jaw dropped. "But Izzy-"

She turned to him, pointing sternly. "Nick, you're referee. And no, you don't get to join in."

"But Izzzyyyyy!"

"No buts!"

Raven barked a laugh. "What? You're a medic. How much fun will you be to fight?"

Isabel nodded calmly, cracking her knuckles with deliberate pops that echoed across the yard.

"That's right. I am a medic." She swept her arm to encompass the entire courtyard-weapon racks, training dummies, stone benches. "But this isn't a
field. It's an operating table."

Her smile turned sharp.

"And I'm the surgeon."

Raven's grin turned feral. "Well, well. That's quite a boast. Let's see if you can back it up."

The fight was less a duel and more a natural disaster.

Raven struck first-Omen flashing in a crimson arc, Dust-enhanced slashes carving trenches in the stone. Isabel danced through them with terrifying precision, dodging by millimeters, countering with strikes that looked almost gentle-until they landed and sent Raven flying, or slamming her into the stone floor.

Nick watched from the sidelines, eyes wide, occasionally calling "Point!" or "Watch the left!" before remembering he was supposed to be neutral.

The courtyard didn't stand a chance.

Benches exploded into splinters. Training dummies were bisected. The stone floor cracked and cratered. Raven's portals opened and closed in bursts of red energy, trying to flank-but Isabel read her like a chart, always one step ahead, strikes targeting pressure points, joints, anywhere that would hurt without killing.

Hours blurred into a whirlwind of steel and fury.

Until finally-

Raven launched a desperate overhead strike, pouring everything into it.

Isabel sidestepped, caught her wrist, and twisted.

Omen flew from Raven's grip.

A palm strike to the chest-precise, surgical-sent the wild haired girl flying backward into the center of the yard.

She hit the ground hard enough to carve a crater.

Raven lay there, gasping, aura flickering weakly, staring up at the sky.

Isabel stood over her, chest heaving, hair wild, uniform in tatters.

"Haa… haa… haa… Back it up… yourself… bitch."

Nick sprinted over, eyes shining with pure awe. "IZZY! THAT WAS SO COOL!"

Isabel managed a tired smile, blush dusting her cheeks. "Thanks, Nick. Now if you could help me-"

The remnants of her uniform-already hanging by threads from Raven's Dust slashes-finally gave up.

Fabric tore with a dramatic rip.

Everything fell away.

Nick's brain short-circuited. "Oh… wow…"

From the crater, Raven-half-conscious, bloodied, but apparently not too injured for commentary-lifted her head weakly.

"H-Hey! You can't ogle her! Ogle me! My boobs are way bigger!"

Isabel's eye twitched.

She stomped down-hard-right on Raven's face.

"I'M A LATE BLOOMER, DAMNIT!"

Raven's head thunked back into the dirt, out cold.

Nick-still staring, now with the added complication of his girlfriend's foot on an unconscious woman's face-managed a weak thumbs-up.

"…Still cool."

The courtyard was silent except for the distant sound of approaching infirmary staff.

Beacon would be renovating again.

And somewhere, Ozpin sipped his coffee and was again thankful for the concept of insurance.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Arslan was sitting with Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Nora and Pyrrha for tea in the Star Maiden Garden. Arslan sipped her tea gracefully.

Ruby: "So, what's it like being a nun?"

Blake: "I'm sure it's oppressive and you're judgmental about it."

Weiss: "Says the former terrorist."

Blake: "I-I apologized!"

Yang: "HA! Still, the Church has got a lot of rules about sex, right? And I ain't lion~!"

Weiss: groans "YANG!"

Ruby: "Seriously?!"

Pyrrha: "Guys, let's not hassle Arslan about it!"

Nora: "Still, what are the rules?"

Arslan: sips "It's quite simple. Sex is a gift from God to men and women to use to express their love to one another in marriage. Once married, I will do everything in my power to make my husband happy. That too is part of nun training."

Blake: "W-Wait... It is?"

Ruby: "It is?!"

Yang: "It is?"

Nora: "Tell us!"

Weiss: "C-Certainly not! Such things would be sinful... Right Arslan?"

Arslan: "Well, knowing how to please your husband and how to let him please you is crucial to a happy marriage, so it is hardly sinful to instruct women in these things. See, first..."

Yang: "Uhhh..." *Moves to cover Ruby's ears*

Ruby: "Hey! This is religious education, Yang! You can't deny me it!"

Weiss: "Besides, you need all the help you can get to get a husband."

Yang: "Look who's talking! Fine! Lay it on us!"

Blake: "What could she know that smut writers don't?"

Arslan: smile

Three hours later...

Jaune and Ren walk into the garden. They see the girls around the table.

Jaune: "Hey girls! What's up?"

All of them turn to Ren and Jaune... And all but Arslan blush deeply and look somewhere else, shy. Even Nora.

All: "Nothing!"

Arslan: smiles, sips her tea

 

[AndrewJTalon]

General James Ironwood's temporary office at Beacon Academy was a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the campus, its sleek metal walls and holographic displays exuding cold efficiency, tinged with the faint scent of polished steel and coffee. Ironwood sat behind his desk, his cybernetic hand tapping rhythmically, his blue eyes narrowing at a series of flickering holograms showcasing a masked vigilante in a red cape, dubbed "The Huntsman," thwarting petty crimes in Vale's streets. Winter Schnee stood at his side, her white hair impeccable, her ice-blue eyes scanning the images with a small frown.

"Sir?" Winter prompted, her voice crisp but curious.

Ironwood's scowl deepened, his voice gruff. "Ozpin says this vigilante is not a threat to our operations. But he has told us nothing else about him."

Winter sighed, her tone dry. "That seems to be typical of him, sir."

"Indeed," Ironwood muttered, leaning forward, his gaze locked on the holograms. "Your impressions?"

Winter's frown softened, her voice measured. "Well… he seems to be doing his best to help the citizenry. They do like him, and it seems to be improving morale."

"True…" Ironwood conceded, his jaw tightening. "But his actions are rather disruptive as well. He's a rogue element. He cannot be trusted unless we know more." His eyes bored into the image of the Huntsman swinging from a rooftop, his red cape billowing. "Who are you, Huntsman? Hmmm… Get me all the files you can on him, Schnee."

"Yes, sir!" Winter saluted, her boots clicking as she exited the office.

Minutes later, she returned, a tablet of files in hand, only to freeze in the doorway. Ironwood, now clad in a red mask and cape over his uniform, stood atop his desk. He was striking a dramatic pose, his cybernetic arm raised heroically.

"Halt, evildoers! I, the Huntsman, have come to stop you!"

Winter blinked, her voice flat. "…Sir?"

Ironwood didn't flinch, his composure unshaken, his voice steady. "I had thought that by imitating the Huntsman, I might gain some kind of insight into his character and motivations."

Winter's eyebrow twitched, her tone carefully neutral. "I uh… I see, sir."

Ironwood adjusted his cape, his expression serious. "Perhaps if you dressed up as Wonder Zwei, we could—"

"No thank you, sir," Winter cut in, her voice firm, her face a mask of professionalism hiding a flicker of exasperation.

Ironwood cleared his throat, stepping down from the desk, his cape swishing. "Yes, well… that is understandable."

Winter handed him the tablet, her voice resuming its crisp efficiency. "The files, sir. Limited data—mostly eyewitness accounts and grainy footage. The Huntsman's identity remains unconfirmed, but his combat style suggests Huntsman training, possibly Beacon-trained."

Ironwood scrolled through the files, his scowl returning, though his cape remained draped over his shoulders. "Keep digging, Schnee. If Ozpin won't tell us who this man is, we'll find out ourselves."

As Winter nodded and turned to leave, the office door creaked open, revealing Jaune Arc, his, his blond hair mussed. He froze, staring at Ironwood's cape and mask. "Uh… General? Am I… interrupting something?"

Ironwood's eyes widened, but his voice was steady. "Not at all, Arc. Just… strategic analysis."

Winter's lips twitched, suppressing a smirk. "Indeed, sir."

Jaune blinked, his blue eyes confused but polite. "Right… uh, I'll just… come back later." He backed out, the door clicking shut.

Ironwood sighed, removing the mask, his voice low. "This stays between us, Schnee."

"Of course, sir," Winter replied, her tone betraying nothing, though her eyes glinted with amusement as she exited.

- - -

More Huntsman chapters are coming!

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon Academy quad was a vibrant sprawl of green under a bright midday sun, students lounging on blankets or sparring in the distance. Team RWBY sat at a weathered picnic table, Ruby munching on cookies, Yang sipping a soda, and Weiss flipping through a Dust catalog. Blake Belladonna, her amber eyes narrowed under her bow, glared across the quad at Cardin Winchester and Velvet Scarlatina, who were sharing a lunch under a tree. Cardin, his orange hair glinting, fed Velvet a grape, her bunny ears twitching happily as she laughed.

Yang leaned back, her lilac eyes catching Blake's scowl. "Blake? You still got a bug up your butt over those two?"

Blake's ears flicked under her bow, her voice a low growl. "Of course I do! Cardin obviously bullied her into being his girlfriend!"

Ruby tilted her head, her silver eyes curious, a cookie crumb on her cheek. "They look happy to me."

Blake's scowl deepened, her voice sharp. "I'm much more worldly and experienced, Ruby. Clearly, Cardin psychologically broke her into dating him! And now he'll break her into his dutiful, obedient bunny bride! Pumping out dozens of children, his own personal brood bunny! He'll chain her to the oven and make her walk around in nothing but an apron!"

Yang's hands shot to Ruby's ears, her voice a hiss. "Would you PLEASE stop that shit around Ruby?!"

Ruby's eyes widened, haunted, her voice small. "I can read lips, Yang, it's too late."

Yang's jaw dropped, her voice a yelp. "SERIOUSLY?!"

Weiss, her ice-blue eyes glinting with amusement, set down her catalog. "Look, I'm no fan of Cardin Winchester, but they seem perfectly happy. He hasn't done anything racist to her. Look!" She pointed to Cardin, who was gently stroking Velvet's ears, her smile radiant. "He's even stroking her ears affectionately."

Yang crossed her arms, her voice teasing. "Maybe Cardin's just no longer a jerk, have you ever considered that?"

Blake scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "HA! Racist humans never change their minds about Faunus! Besides, rabbit Faunus are especially prone to being abused like this!"

Weiss's eyebrow arched, her voice skeptical. "What? How so?"

Blake leaned forward, her voice fervent. "They're all weak, demure herbivores! They bend to the slightest pressure and run off! And they can't help their breeding instincts to just give in to any strong male who dominates them! Most single Faunus mothers are rabbit Faunus, and they betray their own kind with humans! That's why we feline Faunus run things! We're not so easily overpowered like those dumb cottontails!"

A shadow loomed nearby. Hex Skvader, an upperclassman rabbit Faunus with sleek gray ears and sharp green eyes, paused mid-step, his tray of food trembling as he glared at Blake. "Hey! That is OUR word! You can't use it!"

Blake's eyes flashed, her voice defiant. "I can use it all I want! Cottontail!"

Hex's ears twitched, his voice a snarl. "Alley Cat!"

Blake stood, her hands on her hips. "Bunny Buns!"

Hex gasped, his voice outraged. "That is a slur, Mittens!"

Blake's aura flared, her voice a growl. "THAT'S AN EVEN WORSE SLUR!"

Ruby blinked, her voice soft. "But… I like mittens."

Yang grabbed Ruby's hand, pulling her up, her voice firm. "Okay, Ruby, I think we'll let them sort this out themselves. Come on, Weiss."

Weiss's eyes sparkled with glee, her voice reluctant. "But this is hilarious!"

"I said come on!" Yang snapped, dragging them both away as Blake and Hex continued their heated exchange, slurs flying like Dust rounds.

"Ugh," Ruby muttered, "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Well, maybe she'll be better later," Yang tried optimistically.

"I hope not," Weiss smirked.

- - -

In the dead of night, the Beacon Academy common room was bathed in shadows, silent save for the faint creak of floorboards under Jaune Arc's tired steps. Thirst had dragged him from his bed, his throat parched and his mind foggy with sleep. He shuffled toward the sink, flipping on the light without a second thought, the harsh glow flooding the room.

As he passed the couch, he caught a glimpse of Blake Belladonna, perched there in all her feline glory, and tossed out a casual, "Hey Blake."

"EEP!" Blake yelped, her body jerking like she'd been zapped. Her Faunus ears, usually hidden beneath her bow, stood free and twitching, her hands frozen mid-motion—clutching a tangled ball of yarn.

Jaune paused, glass halfway to the sink, and glanced back. "… Oh. So that's where that went."

He was wondering where the yarn his sister had sent along with the gift of his new scarf had gone.

Blake's golden eyes widened, her face a mix of mortification and theatrical panic. "Jaune… You've discovered my secret! You evil, wicked human!"

He blinked, filling his glass with water. "That… You're a Cat Faunus? Blake, we've known that for months now. I'm pretty sure everyone knows now. Velvet passed you an ear brush at lunch a few days back—"

"Which means," Blake interrupted, her voice dropping to a dramatic purr as she leaned forward, "to keep my secret, I'll have to do any depraved thing you human males can think of to do with feline Faunus! We're the most desirable kind of Faunus, after all! Way better than rabbit Faunus!"

Jaune stared, his expression flat. "Ummm…"

Blake pressed on, her tone equal parts accusation and invitation, her ears flicking with exaggerated flair. "What will you do to me first?! Put a collar on me? Make me 'nyah'? Make me go on a leash and be your obedient pet?!"

"You don't put leashes on cats," Jaune said, deadpan, taking a slow sip of his water. "I know. There are many cats on my farm. None of them took a leash."

Blake's bravado faltered, but she doubled down, tossing her hair and striking a pose. "Oh, just get it over with and make me into your slave, you depraved human!"

Jaune finished his water, set the glass in the sink, and turned toward the dorm hallway, utterly unfazed.

"Goodnight, Blake."

Blake's jaw dropped, her yarn forgotten.

"Wha… Jaune? JAUNE!"

He didn't break stride, his voice drifting back. "Goodnight, Blake."

"What are you, gay?!" she called, half-desperate, half-indignant.

"No," Jaune replied, already halfway to his room, his tone bone-weary. "I'm just very, very tired."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Blake alone in the common room, clutching her yarn, her ears drooping in stunned silence.

Ruby, watching both of them through her cracked open door to the RWBY/JNPR common room… Blinked twice… Then grinned.

 

[Sliverhero]

have idea for a digimon rwby crossover and here is a bit from it.
The idea is that what if jaune and other character where they were kids were sent to the digital world amd after they saved it they returned.
Now here is a scene I have planned for a dark biomerge.
(Dark biomerge are fanmade)

The rocket locker doors screamed as they were torn open. Patamon struck the control panel again and again until it finally failed, sparks exploding outward. Jaune stumbled free, already running, his heart pounding with a truth he could feel in his bones. He hope he wasnt but he could as if he was too late.

All round them Beacon was burning, you can hear the screams of anguish, the laughter of men and women giving into the madden beasts deep in their souls, acting like the grimm based on their masks, and finally the roar of grimm.

Patamon had been delayed, not by weakness, but by choice. He had stayed behind, holding evacuation routes together while civilians fled. Angelic light ripping through Grimm-infested streets. Smashing White Fang squads and corrupted Atlesian robots that fired wildly into smoke and screaming crowds. Every second bought with effort, every second stolen from Pyrrha. They ran the collapsing stairwell. Jaune's scroll constatly screaming warnings.
He gave a quick glance on it and it reads Pyrrha Nikos: Aura: 100....90...70....50...30!!!!
"No...please...no...." Jaune gasped.
The stairway ahead collapsed inward, rubble blocking the way. Patamon didn't even hesitate.

"Patamon digivolve to… ANGELMON!"

Radiance detonated through the tower. Wings of golden light tore free as Angemon seized Jaune and launched upward, smashing through smoke and fire, ascending the broken spine of Beacon Tower. They reached the summit and to the two their world ended.

Pyrrha knelt amid ash and flame, while Cinder Fall stood before her, relaxed, even amused.
Behind her, the Grimm Dragon loomed, wings unfurled like a crown of death. Jaune opened his mouth to scream... Then arrow pierced Pyrrha's chest. Time shattered, Angemon froze midair. Jaune's sword slipped from his hand.
Cinder stepped forward, fire blooming lazily in her palm.

Pyrrha looked up, confused, then apologetic upon seeing jaune and angelmon.
Her last words to them. "I'm sorry…" The fire then consumed her, and Pyrrha burned away, her very light, then her ashes andmemory scattering into the night.

To this everything went silence. You couldn't even hear a pin drop. Then the cruel laughter, came. Cinder turned and smirked at them.
"Oh. You made it, just not in time"
She glanced at Angemon. "…You're nothing."
Something inside Jaune collapsed beyond repair. The roar that tore from him and Angemon was not human, Nor Digimon.

It was grief, rage, and despair given sound.
Angemon screamed as his light destabilized violently. Golden radiance fractured, veins of shadow ripping through it as his wings charred black at the edges.
"Jaune, stop...this power....!" Patamon cried as his form began to tear apart.
Jaune stepped forward, a buried instinct, told him to move to angelmon and to unleash on their bond.
His aura corrupted with rage and desipair and self loathing shattered outward like glass, before shooting towards angelmon. If anyone were to see thay aura there they would be terrified and disgusted by its look.
A mechanical voice corrupted and tainted shouted out
"Biomerge."
A pillar of darkness snapped out wrapping around Jaune and Angelmon while piercing the heavens.
The sky ripped open, and the symbol of pride is brazen across the sky.


Jaune and Angemon were torn apart and crushed together simultaneously, flesh, soul, data, and despair fused in screaming agony.
Armor expanded into titanic black-gold plates etched with writhing runes. Wings multiplied, twelve vast pinions, half divine, half abyssal, blotting out the battlefield. Seven broken crowns ignited above a horned, monstrous visage.

At the center of the colossal chest, Jaune's face was sealed into living armor, eyes burning like dying stars.The tower buckled, The Grimm Dragon recoiled for the first time in its long life it feel terror. Reality screamed. And the voice of jaune and patamon joined together but twisted roar out.LUCEMON: SHADOWLORD MODE
After the pillair peels away, to cinder terror filled eyes, she sees Doom Manifested.
It dwarfed the Grimm Dragon completely, its head level with Beacon's highest spires, wings stretching beyond the horizon. Gravity collapsed inward; buildings cracked and sank as if the world itself were kneeling.

Lucemon did not rage, He observed. Like a cat watching a room full of mice.
Grimm surged feeling fear but not knowing what to do charge at the creature causing it.
White Fang regrouped, frighten seeing a true monster for the first time. Atlesian airships locked weapons and fired.
Lucemon tilted his head, Curious. Just spoke softly but everyone heard it a cruel two toned voice filled with pride and cruelty
"Divine Atonement"

One crown ignited, then a thin beam lanced downward, surgically erasing a single Grimm horde. Lucemon paused,curious at its new toys.
Then all seven crowns flared. The beam widened, sweeping slowly across the battlefield, deliberate, methodical. Grimm vanished without residue. White Fang lines unraveled mid-scream. Robots were stripped to nothing.

The Grimm Dragon was caught at the edge, one wing erased, then its torso, before the beam fully consumed it. It never finished roaring.
Lucemon then inhaled, then fired ...Purgatorial Flame.
Ashen-gold and black flame poured forth in controlled waves, herding survivors into open ground. Those too slow collapsed silently as despair crushed them before the fire erased their forms. Lucemon exhaled again.

Nothing remained, of their wretched lives.
Above, Atlesian airships fired everything, at lucemon SM,
He just raised Gehenna and with its Absolute Nullification, the Missiles vanished, Lasers died and nothing hurt him

Lucemon turned the orb skyward.he then used his Wrath of Darkness.

A ray lanced upward, passing between ships first, distorting gravity and space. At first it looked like it missed then it adjusted.
One cruiser's engine detonated, another was split along its hull, spiraling down in flames.
A third lost power entirely, crashing into Beacon's lower city in a thunderous explosion. It was calculated by lucemon SM that was where the white fang were fleeing towards to but not anymore.

Lucemon watched ships fall, with a cruel grin on its monstrous face.

Upon seeing this tbe White Fang survivors ran, in every direction.
A small flap of its wings Lucemon descended among them. Each footstep shattered stone and bone.

A casual motion of claws. He unleashed his next attack imension Slasher.
Thw very Reality tore open beside those fleeing soldiers.
Some vanished instantly, maybe they got a better fate Others screamed, cut off as the rift closed, locking them to a fate worse then death.
Lucemon did not hurry, he savoured every strike.

Finally...the grand prize, Cinder, herself
She stood alone, weapons shaking, so terrified that she couldn't even move. Lucemon loomed over her. Gehenna drifted closer.She fired hoping to hit and do something but the attack vanished. Lucemon then lowered one claw.

And fired his next attack:Wrath of Darkness
A narrow beam carved a chasm beside her, the shockwave hurling her across stone and shattering her aura completely. Lucemon raised his claws again and used Dimension Slasher agai
Space split open behind her, endless darkness waiting.
The claw hovered there.
Waiting.
But at the last moment Inside the colossal chest, Jaune's eyes flickered.
Memories surfaced, training, laughter, Pyrrha believing in him. "Be better than them."
His resloved The claw trembled, Then withdrew.
The rift closed.
Jaune's voice mixed with pained voice of patamon thundered from within, calm and absolute. "Death would be mercy." "You do not deserve it, but may return when i feel like it" Lucemon turned away.

Cinder collapsed, sobbing, alive, being pulled away to safety by Emerald who is missing an arm, thanking anyone that can hear her that she lived. The seven crowns dimmed, then Gehenna shrank.the very Shadow and light that was all but consuming, imploded inward. To anyome watching, The god vanished, High atop the ruined tower, Jaune Arc lay unconscious. Patamon lay beside him, reverted to a digiegg. The digiegg is just dim, but alive.

While Beacon burned.
Airships lay shattered across the city.
And everyone who survived understood the truth:That night, judgment walked the world.
And it chose restraint.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon library was quiet after hours, moonlight slanting through the high windows and painting silver stripes across the tables. Jaune and Blake sat across from each other, a stack of old philosophy texts between them like a no-man's-land. The rest of the teams had gone to bed. This was supposed to be "homework." Instead it had turned into something else entirely.

Blake's ears were flat, her voice low and sharp. "You don't get it, Jaune. You waltz in with your speeches and your dramatic poses and suddenly Adam respects you. He listens to you. I spent years trying to pull him back, and you do it in one conversation because you both think explosions are deep."

Jaune leaned forward, elbows on the table, utterly earnest. "It's not about the explosions, Blake. It's hot-blooded manliness! When two warriors clash with everything they've got—ideals, swords, auras—it forges a bond! Even between enemies! That's how respect is born!"

Blake stared at him, amber eyes narrowing. "Hot-blooded manliness."

"Exactly!" Jaune spread his hands, completely missing the danger signs. "It's like… the fire of battle burns away all the petty stuff and leaves only truth! That's why Adam and I get each other. We're rivals, yeah, but there's honor in it!"

Blake's fingers drummed once on the table. "It only counts if you're both shirtless, covered in oil, grunting dramatically while you grapple against one another! In pure hotblooded yaoi man love!"

Dead silence.

Jaune blinked. Once. Twice. His brain blue-screened.

Blake's ears shot straight up as her own words registered. Her face went scarlet under the moonlight.

"I—I mean—that's not—" She stood so fast her chair scraped backward like a gunshot. "I said nothing. You heard nothing. Good night!"

She vaulted over the table—literally vaulted—grabbed Gambol Shroud from the chair, and vanished in a burst of shadow clones that scattered in six different directions.

Jaune sat there, mouth open, staring at the spot where she'd been.

"...Yaoi?" he whispered to the empty air.

One of Blake's abandoned shadow clones lingered just long enough to facepalm before popping out of existence.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon gardens were a hidden gem—tucked behind the main academy building, a sprawling patch of raised beds, greenhouses, and experimental Dust-infused plots that Professor Peach oversaw. It was meant for botany classes, Aura-agricultural research, and the occasional student who needed extra credit.

Today, it was Jaune Arc's domain.

He'd "volunteered: for the work, mostly because Peach had caught him doodling crop rotation charts in class (old farm habits died hard) and roped him in. Now, shirt and hoodie hung on a hook because Vacuo-level heat had turned the greenhouse into a sauna, Jaune knelt in the dirt—bare-chested, sweat glistening on surprisingly toned muscles honed from months of Pyrrha's relentless training.

He hummed an old Radian folk tune under his breath, hands buried in soil as he coaxed a wilting tomato vine back to life. Golden Aura flickered faintly from his palms, seeping into the earth like sunlight. The plant perked up—stems thickening, leaves unfurling vibrant green, tiny fruits swelling before his eyes.

"See? You just needed a little encouragement," he muttered to the vine, patting the soil gently. "Good girl."

Unbeknownst to him, he had an audience.

Team RWBY had wandered by on a "casual stroll" (Ruby's idea, after overhearing Peach mention Jaune's shift). They'd frozen at the garden gate like deer in headlights. And team JNPR had come along to check up on their team leader.

Ruby's silver eyes went wide as saucers. "Is he… glowing?"

Yang leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, lilac eyes locked on Jaune's back muscles flexing as he reached for a watering can. "Forget glowing. Look at those shoulders. When did Vomit Boy get ripped?"

Weiss fanned herself with a hand, cheeks pink despite the Schnee composure. "It's indecent. Absolutely indecent. He should put a shirt on before someone—before he causes a scandal."

Blake's bow twitched, amber eyes half-lidded but very much appreciating the view. "Or not. For… research purposes."

Yang glanced at Pyrrha, and smirked. "You do good work."

Pyrrha Nikos, who stood a little behind, was tracing every line of Jaune's form with a mix of pride and something warmer. "He did most of the work..."

Nora, popping up from nowhere with Ren in tow, grinned maniacally. "Look at our Fearless Leader! Farming like a boss! And shirtless! Valkyrie approved!"

Ren raised an eyebrow. Nora hugged him.

"Don't be jealous, Renny! I still love you more!"

"I am aware," Ren said quietly, wearing the smallest of smiles.

Jaune, oblivious, stood and stretched—arms overhead, back arching, every muscle rippling under sun-kissed skin. A soft groan escaped him as vertebrae popped.

The girls collectively inhaled.

Ruby squeaked. "He's like a… a farm god!"

Yang bit her lip. "I'm suddenly very interested in agriculture."

"Yang!" Ruby hissed. Yang grinned.

"What? Like you weren't looking."

Ruby turned as red as her cape. Weiss scowled at them.

Weiss whispered furiously, "This is undignified! We're Huntresses, not—not—"

"Horny?" Yang grinned.

"Speak for yourself," Blake murmured.

Jaune turned to look for a tool, then smiled as he caught sight of his friends. He waved.

"Oh! Hey, guys! What are you doing here?"

The group scattered into "casual" poses—Ruby examining a random flower like it held the secrets of the universe, Yang leaning "coolly" against a table that creaked under her weight, Weiss suddenly fascinated by her scroll, Blake hiding behind a book she'd pulled from nowhere, and Pyrrha smiling too brightly.

Nora just waved. "Watching you work your magic, Farm Boy! Look at those gains!"

Jaune blinked, then looked down—realizing his shirtless state. His face went nuclear red. "Oh—uh—sorry! It's hot in here, and I didn't think—"

"That's fine!" Ruby squeaked.

"Very fine," Blake muttered, as Pyrrha slowly nodded.

Yang recovered first, sauntering over with a wink. "No apologies needed, Vomit Boy. You're plowing that field like a pro."

"Ah, well, it's not technically plowing," Jaune stuttered. Yang leaned in with a smirk.

"Oh? Wanna teach me how well you plow~?"

Weiss choked. "YANG!"

"Subtle," Blake said, still staring at Jaune over her book.

Ruby giggled. "The tomatoes look super happy!"

Pyrrha stepped forward to Jaune's other side, gently pulling him closer to her away from Yang. "You're doing just fine, Jaune. No need to be embarrassed."

Jaune fumbled his shirt, blushing harder. "Th-thanks. Farm stuff's second nature. Aura helps too—makes everything grow better."

Nora punched his arm. "You're like a human fertilizer! But hot!"

Ren raised an eyebrow, then turned to Jaune. "Did you need anything?"

"Well, I need to grab the hoe," Jaune explained. Weiss's entire face turned bright red. Ruby tried to hide in her cape. Blake's olive skin blushed as she nearly dropped her book. Yang started, just as bright red, then grinned as innuendo rose to her lips.

"No," Ren and Jaune told her. Yang pouted.

"Spoilsports," she huffed.

As the group dissolved into laughter and teasing, Jaune slipped the shirt back on—much to the girls' subtle disappointment.

But the image lingered.

And Beacon's gardens suddenly had a lot more "volunteers" signing up.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon cafeteria thrummed with its usual evening energy—forks scraping plates, underclassmen whispering about missions, the occasional burst of laughter from the far tables. Teams RWBY and JNPR had claimed their usual table, enjoying their meals.

Mia sat perched in her booster seat like a tiny queen, legs kicking happily as she speared peas one by one. Jaune leaned over to wipe a smear of sauce from her chin, his smile soft and warm.

"Big birthday coming up, kitten," he said, voice pitched low and conspiratorial. "Turning five. What's the one thing you want most in the whole wide world?"

Mia's ears shot straight up. She dropped her fork with a clatter, clasped her hands under her chin, and declared at full volume: "A baby brother! Or sister! I want a little sibling to play dolls with and teach how to hide cookies and run around with!"

Jaune inhaled a noodle wrong and started coughing like he'd been punched in the lungs. "M-Mia, sweetie, that's… that's not really a birthday present kind of thing—"

Mia's face crumpled, ears drooping tragically. "Why not? I'd share my toys! And my bunk! And my crayons!"

Yang was the first to recover, sliding her chair so close to Jaune it screeched like a banshee. She slung an arm around his shoulders, grin wide and wicked. "Well, if Papa needs a volunteer to help make that baby sibling happen, Auntie Yang's got more than enough energy to spare." She winked at Mia. "We'd make the cutest little blonde firecrackers, right?"

Mia's sadness evaporated. "YAY! Auntie Yang babies!"

Jaune's face went nuclear red. "Yang! Not at the—there are children—stop helping!"

"Aw, come on Papa," Yang crooned, "I've got plenty of experience as a mom already~."

Pyrrha set her glass down with a delicate clink that somehow cut through the noise like a blade. Her smile was serene, but her eyes glinted with competitive fire. "That won't be necessary, Yang. Jaune and I are partners. We train together, fight together—we'd manage the… practicalities perfectly well on our own." She turned the full force of her gentle smile on Jaune. "We'd make wonderful parents, wouldn't we, Jaune?"

Jaune gaped.

"I-I uh-"

Mia bounced in her seat. "YAY! Auntie Pyrrha babies! Strong babies!"

Nora, who had been mid-bite of pancake mountain, slammed both fists on the table hard enough to make plates jump. "OH MY GODS THIS IS THE BEST DINNER EVER! Jaune-Jaune's building a harem army! Who's next? Place your bets!"

Ren sighed into his tea. "Nora, please."

"I'll cut you in for fifty-fifty, Renny!"

"Then I bet on Pyrrha."

Weiss's fork clattered to her plate. "Have you all lost your minds?! This is a public cafeteria! There are standards! Decorum! You cannot just—" She gestured wildly at the table. "—proposition him in front of a child!"

Yang leaned across the table, smirk sharpening. "Aw, c'mon, Weisscream. Jealous? Plenty of Jaune to go around. You wanna sign up for baby-making duty too?"

Weiss went scarlet from collar to hairline. "I most certainly do NOT—!" She paused, then, quieter but with the defiance of a cornered heiress: "And what if I would? I'd raise far better children than any of you!"

Nora howled, nearly falling off her bench. "ICE QUEEN'S IN!"

"I'll have to change the odds," Ren deadpanned.

Blake closed her book with a soft snap, leaning forward with the lazy grace of a cat stretching in sunlight. Her amber eyes fixed on Jaune, smirk slow and sultry. "Another Faunus might be best for balance. Mia's part cat—another cat Faunus sibling would be perfect. Matching ears, matching eyes…" She tilted her head, bow twitching. "I could make that happen, Jaune. I'd be eager to try."

Jaune made a sound like a smashed radiator.

Before he could combust, Ruby vaulted straight over the table—plates rattling, drinks sloshing—and landed squarely in his lap with the force of a small meteor.

"URK!"

"I can be the BEST mom!" Ruby declared, arms flung tightly around his neck. "I'm basically an adult! I'd raise them properly! I'd teach them shooting, weapons maintenance, mechanical engineering, explosives-!"

Jaune wheezed, trapped under enthusiastic sister energy. "Ruby—lap—breathing—"

Nora was now standing on her chair, arms raised like a referee. "AND THE SCORE IS TIED! Yang's got the muscles! Pyrrha's got the champion genes! Weiss has the money! Blake has the ears! Ruby has the speed! WHO WILL WIN JAUNE'S HEART AND/OR SPERM?! TAKING ALL BETS!"

"DOWN NORA!" Jaune choked out.

Ren calmly moved his tea out of splash range.

Weiss rounded on Yang. "You're crass and reckless—any child of yours would be raised on protein shakes and bad puns!"

Yang grinned wider. "Better than yours—tiny little prisses reciting opera at age three! If they could get past your narrow hips!"

"Why you-!"

Pyrrha's voice stayed polite, but steel lurked beneath. "Strength and kindness matter more than wealth or volume. Though it helps I have both~."

Blake's smirk never wavered. "Cultural heritage matters more. Plus, catgirls are sexier than humans."

"Not this catgirl," Pyrrha stated, her smile strained and scary. Which Blake returned with a deadly smirk.

Ruby bounced in Jaune's lap. "But speed! And cookies! Cookies are universal!"

Jaune, mentally screaming, sent up a final desperate prayer: Please, Breaker, let this end. Grant me salvation...!

Professor Glynda Goodwitch materialized at the end of the table like divine punishment incarnate, riding crop tapping against her palm.

Not what I asked for!

"What," she asked in a voice that could shatter diamonds, "is all this nonsense?"

Mia, undaunted, lit up like a firework. "Miss Goodwitch! For my birthday, will you make me a baby brother or sister with Papa too?!"

The entire cafeteria went dead silent. Even the cooks peeked out from the kitchen.

Glynda's cheeks tinted pink—actual, visible pink—before her composure slammed back into place like a vault door.

Neptune Vasilias, halfway across the room, stood up and slammed his fists on his table.

"JAUNE ARC, YOU ABSOLUTE GODDAMNED HAREM PROTAGONIST! YOU'RE GONNA STEAL ALL THE HOTTIES IN BEACON!"

Nora grabbed Ren by the collar and yanked him close with the force of a territorial lightning bolt. "REN IS OFF LIMITS, DAMNIT! MINE! ALL MINE!"

Ren patted her arm calmly. "I wouldn't worry, Nora."

Jaune just sank lower in his seat, Ruby still perched triumphantly in his lap, face buried in both hands as the girls dissolved into overlapping arguments about genetics, parenting styles, and who had dibs.

Mia looked around, confused but delighted by the chaos.

"So… lots of siblings?"

Jaune's muffled voice emerged from his hands: "We're getting you a puppy."

A puppy was safe.

A puppy couldn't lead to this.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Glynda Goodwitch's office at Beacon was a study in controlled severity—polished desk, neatly stacked reports, the faint scent of lemon polish and lingering coffee. She sat behind it now, glasses perched on her nose, reviewing security footage with the kind of focused displeasure usually reserved for poorly formatted mission reports. Yang Xiao-Long and Ruby Rose sat in the two uncomfortable chairs in front of her desk, both cringing.

"We weren't the only ones-!" Ruby tried, but she was silenced by Glynda's icy glare.

"No talking until your father gets here," she stated, cold and steely. Yang coughed.

"Ah, well-"

Glynda's glare seemed to go through her like a CAT scan. Yang folded her hands in her lap and nodded quickly.

"Yes ma'am!" She managed. Ruby winced.

If Yang's being polite, we're doomed...

The door opened.

Taiyang Xiao Long stepped in—broad shoulders filling the frame, casual red shirt rolled to the elbows, blond hair neatly tousled. He froze mid-step when he saw Glynda.

"…Glynda?"

She looked up. Her eyes widened fractionally behind the lenses.

"…Taiyang," she greeted, almost gently.

A long beat of stunned silence.

Taiyang blinked. "Breaker... I didn't recognize you. You're… taller. And scarier."

Glynda's lips twitched despite herself. "It took me a moment too. You're… less feral. And taller. The five o'clock shadow is new."

Taiyang rubbed the short, golden scruff on his jaw with a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well... You caught me on an off day. I'm a teacher at Signal. Gotta look respectable sometimes."

They stared at each other for another second—then both cracked the same smile.

Glynda leaned back, removing her glasses to wipe them with a cloth. "I still can't believe it's you. The last time I saw you, you were trying to convince Qrow that wearing a dress for a week was 'character building.'"

Taiyang barked a laugh. "He lasted three days. Cried on day four when he had to wear heels to the mess hall."

Glynda's shoulders shook. "And Isabel Arc throwing you out the window when you walked in on her showering. I've never heard a man scream that high."

Taiyang winced, rubbing his back like the memory still ached. "She said I was 'lucky it was only the second floor.' Then Raven... Remember when she tried make up and insisted she'd do it herself? She looked like-like a killer clown from outer space!"

They dissolved into quiet laughter—old friends rediscovering a rhythm that had been buried under years and grief. Yang and Ruby just stared at this interaction in utter disbelief. Ruby pinched herself to make sure she wasn't having a nightmare.

Taiyang finally sobered, leaning forward against the desk. "So… what did my girls get up to this time?"

Glynda's expression shifted back to stern professor mode. "They participated in a vigilante raid against a White Fang splinter cell operating out of Vale's industrial district. Unauthorized, unsupervised, and against every regulation in the student handbook."

Taiyang exhaled. "Did they win?"

Glynda's eyes narrowed. "That is not the point."

He raised both hands. "Right. Not the point. I'll keep a tighter leash on them. Promise."

Glynda studied him for a long moment—then her shoulders relaxed. "Thank you, Taiyang. For being a good father. And… for still being a good friend."

Taiyang's smile was softer now. "Hey. We survived Beacon together. That counts for something." He paused, then added with genuine warmth, "We should catch up sometime. Properly. Coffee. Or drinks. Or both."

Glynda's cheeks pinked—barely noticeable, but there. She cleared her throat. "Yes. I… would like that."

Taiyang grinned—bright, boyish, the same grin that had once convinced her to sneak into the Emerald Forest on a dare.

"It's a date. Uh... I mean... You know what I mean."

He winked.

Glynda rolled her eyes, but the blush stayed. "Goodbye, Taiyang."

He saluted lazily and stepped out, pausing in the doorway. "Girls! Be good for Glynda!"

The door closed.

Silence.

Then Glynda turned slowly to the two daughters who'd been sitting there, now wearing identical stunned expressions.

Ruby's voice cracked first. "Professor Goodwitch… Do you... Like my dad?"

Glynda froze. "Well, yes... Not like that!"

Both girls stared—intensely.

Glynda's composure cracked. A flush crept up her neck.

"Okay," she admitted, voice strangled, "so it is like that. Is he single? You could grind meat on those abs!"

"STOP HITTING ON MY DAD!" Yang shrieked.

- - -

@brinkleberry Complained that there weren't more Taiyang/Glynda fics so I wrote up a quick one for him. Don't say I never did anything for you.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The common room at Beacon Academy buzzed with the usual mix of camaraderie and chaos, the late afternoon light filtering through the windows. Jaune lounged on a couch, half-listening to Nora's animated retelling of some Grimm-slaying escapade, while Ren nodded patiently beside her. Pyrrha sat nearby, polishing her spear with a focus that bordered on the obsessive.

Weiss and Yang occupied the other side of the room, Weiss scribbling in a notebook and Yang sprawled across an armchair, scrolling through her Scroll. Ruby, however, stood in front of Jaune, her silver eyes wide and earnest, her hands clasped like she was about to plead for her life.

"Jaune? I need you to do something for me," Ruby said, her voice carrying that mix of determination and puppy-dog charm she wielded so well.

Jaune glanced up, setting aside the comic he'd been skimming. "Sure, what?"

"Take Blake on a date? A regular, non-sexually depraved date?" Ruby asked, as if it were the most reasonable request in the world.

Jaune's jaw dropped. "What?"

Pyrrha's head snapped up, her polishing cloth frozen mid-motion. "What?!"

Ruby pressed on, undeterred. "You dated a cat Faunus before, right?"

Pyrrha's eyes narrowed, her voice dangerously soft. "You did?"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the room's collective gaze pinning him like a bug. "Well, sure, but Katy Sith was a childhood friend! We broke up amicably! Also, she wasn't crazy."

Ruby waved a hand dismissively. "Blake isn't crazy!"

Weiss let out a sharp, incredulous "HA!" from her corner, not even looking up from her notebook.

Ruby faltered, her enthusiasm dimming slightly. "… Okay, so she is. But! You can make her not crazy! Or at least show her that not everything is about racism and sexual depravity! You're perfect! You're like… normal!"

Jaune stared, his expression caught between disbelief and resignation. "I literally snuck into Beacon Academy with fake transcripts, no Aura, and no clue what I was doing."

Ruby tilted her head, unfazed. "Didn't you ace the entrance exams?"

Weiss's pen froze, her head whipping toward Jaune. "Wait, he did what?!"

Jaune shrugged, his cheeks tinting pink. "Well, of course! Every time I made a stupid lie about Aura or the Vytal Festival, I was panicking and saying stupid crap! I actually studied hard and I got in!"

Weiss's eyes bulged, her voice rising to a near-shriek. "YOU DID WHAT?! NO WAY! HOW COULD YOU—?!"

Yang, grinning like a Cheshire cat, held up Jaune's Scroll, which she'd swiped from the coffee table. "See for yourself."

Weiss snatched the device, her fingers flying across the screen. Her face paled, then reddened, as she read the scores.

"… They told me someone else got a perfect score! I ONLY GOT A 99! HOW DID AN IDIOT LIKE YOU BEAT ME?! YOU—YOU DOLT!"

Jaune threw up his hands, defensive. "I-I just test well! And freak out in situations where I might be killed!"

Weiss fumed, her notebook forgotten as she muttered about "unfair advantages" and "rigged systems."

Ruby, steering the conversation back, clapped her hands. "See? You're an absolutely normal person, Jaune! And Blake needs normality!"

Pyrrha's voice was tight, her smile unnervingly sharp. "Does she? Maybe she could date Sun? Wasn't she already dating Sun? You know, SUN?"

Yang snorted, tossing Jaune's Scroll back onto the table. "Apparently he's not human enough. He's a primate, so he's close to humans, which would annoy her dad, but not far away enough to piss him off."

The room fell silent as everyone tried to untangle that logic, their expressions ranging from baffled to pained.

Jaune blinked slowly. "… How…?"

Yang sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't ask. That was the least taxing part of the conversation with her." She leaned back, her tone turning pleading. "If I ever decide to date her, please, cut my arm off?"

Jaune nodded solemnly. "Agreed. Also? You're getting another case of beer from my sisters' next aid package."

Yang's face lit up, her fist pumping the air. "Hey hey! Good on you, Stud!"

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "What happened to Vomit Boy?"

"You got me beer! And you're going to take my neurotic partner out on a date!" Yang said, winking. "Two-step promotion!"

Jaune turned to Ruby, his resolve wavering. "Ruby, I mean, I don't know—"

"Pleasssse?" Ruby begged, her eyes shimmering with weaponized adorableness.

Jaune sighed, his shoulders slumping. "… All right. For you, Ruby."

Pyrrha's smile twitched, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "But—Jaune—Don't we have training?"

"Relax, Pyrrha," Jaune said, offering her a reassuring smile. "I'll just take Blake out on a nice, normal date to a bookstore coffee shop. Lunch or brunch. It's no big deal, just like how I would take Katy out."

Pyrrha's eye twitched, her "smile" now a terrifying rictus. "Oh?"

Jaune frowned, concerned. "Pyrrha, are you okay? You seem tense. Do you need another massage?"

Nora perked up, her hammer clattering to the floor. "HEY! You've been holding out on us, Jaune! We all want massages!"

Ren, ever the voice of calm, raised a hand. "I don't."

Nora whirled on him, grinning. "Then you give me one!"

Ren sighed, his fate sealed. "All right…"
- - -

Jaune Arc stood nervously by the rocket lockers in Beacon's armory, his heart thudding as he approached Blake Belladonna. She was fiddling with her gear, her usual scowl in place, her ears twitching faintly beneath her bow. The weight of Ruby's request—and the coupons burning a hole in his pocket—pushed him forward, despite the awkwardness that had hung between them since their last encounter.

"Hey Blake," Jaune said, his voice betraying a slight tremor.

"Jaune," Blake replied, her tone cool, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as she turned to face him.

He took a deep breath, holding out the coupons like a peace offering. "Blake… I got some coupons for the Celsus Coffee House and Bookshop tomorrow. I thought you might like to go with me."

Blake froze, her scowl faltering as her eyes widened. "Wait… Go with you… Like… Like a date?"

Jaune nodded, his cheeks tinged pink. "Yes."

Blake's face turned a vivid shade of red, her ears flicking as she processed his words. She frowned, her voice cautious. "It's… A little sudden. I mean, you've been avoiding me a lot lately."

"Well, I wanted to make it up to you," Jaune said, scratching the back of his neck. "I think we just had a miscommunication."

Blake's frown deepened, her arms crossing. "I also thought you were pursuing Weiss."

"No! No, I'm over her," Jaune said quickly, his voice earnest. "Honestly? I think you're much prettier than her."

Blake's blush deepened, but her scowl returned, sharper this time. "… Wait…" She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Is it because you have a cat Faunus fetish?"

Jaune's eyes widened, his hands waving defensively. "Er… I mean, no more than any other guy—"

"You dated a cat Faunus before, right?" Blake pressed, her tone accusatory.

"Yes, I did," Jaune admitted, keeping his voice steady. "We ended it amicably. I don't see you as a replacement for her, if that's what you're asking."

Blake's scowl softened, her voice turning shy as she glanced away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. "Do you… Do you think I'm hotter than her?"

Jaune paused, his gaze meeting hers. "… Yes. Yes, I do."

Blake's eyes widened, her blush returning full force. "… All right. Um…" She hesitated, her voice dropping. "Do… Do you want me to wear a collar or-or anything?"

Jaune fell silent, his brain momentarily stalling. After a long beat, he managed, "I mean… Not on the first date?"

Blake's ears perked, her blush intensifying as she nodded quickly. "Oh, right. That… That would be rushing things for normal romance. Which I totally know how to do!"

Jaune chuckled, his tension easing. "It's okay, Blake. We'll just take it a step at a time, and have fun. All right?"

Blake's lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, her eyes softening. "All… All right…"

Jaune couldn't help but notice how pretty her smile was, a warmth spreading in his chest. He grinned back. "Great!"

"Okay. Sounds good," Blake said, her voice steadier now. She gave him a small nod and headed off, her steps lighter than before.

Once Jaune was sure she was out of earshot, he let out a long, shaky sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Okay… Step One complete."

"YAY!" Ruby's voice exploded from behind a nearby locker, and before Jaune could react, she tackle-hugged him, nearly knocking him over. "You did it! She'll get some normal romance and then she'll stop being so racist!"

Jaune steadied himself, patting Ruby's head awkwardly. "We can only hope…"

Weiss and Yang emerged from their hiding spots, Weiss with her arms crossed and Yang sporting a mischievous grin. Yang sidled up to Jaune, her eyes glinting. "Oho? You dated a cat Faunus before, huh? Guess you've got Cat Scratch Fever?"

Jaune groaned, rubbing his face. "I didn't like her for that alone. We were, like, childhood friends!"

Weiss's voice was sharp, her blush barely hidden. "So… You think Blake is prettier than me?"

Jaune hesitated, sensing the minefield. "Er… Honestly? I think you're all ridiculously beautiful, just in different ways."

Weiss's blush deepened, but she huffed, turning her nose up. "Sure you do!"

Ruby, still clinging to Jaune's arm, blinked up at him, her cheeks pink. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Jaune said, his voice sincere.

Yang's face turned bright red, but she snickered, trying to play it off. "Yeah, sure!"

Jaune pressed on, his tone apologetic. "I mean it! I'm still really sorry I came on so strong, Weiss. But I do think you're all gorgeous. I um, I might have fixated on you because, well… You're like the opposite of my ex, and I didn't want to compare you to her. It wouldn't be fair. But she is just one of many kinds of girls I'm into… Well, maybe the kind I'm most into, really. I'm learning stuff about myself."

Yang's grin widened as she snatched Jaune's Scroll from his pocket. "Oh? The exact opposite? So what is Katy Sith… Like…?"

She froze, her eyes locking onto the screen. Weiss and Ruby leaned in, and their jaws dropped. The photo showed a busty, blonde, muscular cat Faunus girl laughing beside Jaune in a photobooth, her tail curled playfully around his arm.

Yang's voice was a mix of shock and disbelief. "I… Wha…?"

Jaune, sensing danger, grabbed his Scroll and bolted. "I mean, you know… It's not like I dislike her or anything. I just… It's easy to fall for people like those you dated before, so… Um… I'm gonna go!"

Weiss's scowl deepened as she shouted after him. "What does he mean the exact opposite?! I… I'm beautiful! So what if my chest isn't huge?!"

Ruby turned to Yang, who was staring into space, her face a mix of confusion and irritation. "Yang? You okay?"

"He's… Into…" Yang's eyes narrowed, her voice low. "But he didn't…? Why the hell did he… It's not like I'm a cat Faunus! I bet she's not a boxer, either! What the hell, Vomit Boy?!"

Ruby tilted her head, trying to follow. "I mean, he said we're all beautiful in our own ways—"

"He didn't hit on me once because he didn't want to replace his ex?!" Yang snapped, her fists clenching. "That's the shittiest excuse ever! Going after BLAKE, now that's a repeat!"

Weiss raised an eyebrow, her voice dry. "I didn't think you cared, Yang."

"I DON'T!" Yang protested, her blush betraying her. "But… Ya know… Since he's over you… And maybe if we help Blake… He could ask me out. I mean, she looked pretty happy!"

Weiss's eyes narrowed. "They broke up!"

"AMICABLY!" Yang shot back, her voice echoing down the hall as Jaune's retreating footsteps faded. "Which means he shouldn't have an issue going after another girl who just looks like his ex but is obviously hotter and better!"

Ruby sighed, rubbing her temples. "This… is gonna be a long semester."

 

[SharkCultist]

Had a idea for the weirdest friendship (and I do mean FRIENDship not friend ship) in Beacon

Cardin and Nora it turns out are gym bros. And may or may not have started a gym cult.

Cardin and Nora speaking to their "gym club" : "The moment I realized the weakness of my flesh bros I was ecstatic. I would take this soft shell of flab and pudge and reforge myself with the surety of steel and the abs to match. I pump the iron until I surpass the iron, then I pump MORE. When your lesser training and muscles fail you I will be there. To show you the whey."

Weiss: should we be concerned?

Ren: yes.

Weiss: is there anything we can do?

Ren: No.

Weiss: want to sneak out while they're busy strapping that 400 pound block of iron to Ruby?

Ruby: my spine is breaking!

Nora: good! That's step one of remaking!

 

[AndrewJTalon]

-Whitley pulls a Ruby in this universe and joins Penny's team at Vytal.

Click to shrink...

He's made the leader thanks to his skills, but frankly, his team is a nightmare.



Whitley: "Penny. Stop fraternizing with the enemy!"



Penny: "But Friend Ruby is my friend!"



Whitley: "No, she's the enemy!"



Penny: "Frienemy!"



Whitley: "No!"



Penny: *puppy dog eyes*



Whitley: "... Fine."



Penny: 'YAY!"



With Ciel...



*Everyone silent in the common rooms*



Ciel: "..... do you ever think of the inevitability of the sun blowing up one day, blotting out all light and life from our planet, sending us all to the welcoming hands of death?"



Whitley: "Who the hell starts a conversation like that?! I just sat down!"



And Indie, Sift Green 's creation...



Team WICP flees a gigantic monster Grimm.



Indy: "I wanna fight it!"



Whitley: "WE ARE NOT FIGHTING THAT GIANT GRIMM!"



Indy: "BUT I WANNAAAA!"



Whitley and Ruby end up commiserating over their headaches in human and Faunus form that are their teams.

 

[SharkCultist]

Had a idea for one of those RWBY is a show AU kind of things.

Velvet and CoCo interview (in)famous star Raven Branwen.

---

Coco: So what made you come back to Beacon?

Raven: a paycheck and a daughter who wants to work with her mom for once.

Velvet: oh, the rumor was that you were returning because the Beacon franchise was one of your favorites from childhood, being your first job and all.

Raven: *snorts* Favorite huh? I guess it is just because it got me a job but I didn't know anything about the show.

Coco: the most popular franchise in Remnant and you didn't know anything about it? Sure pull the other one.

Raven: Little hard to keep up with current media being homeless and eight years old brat.

Raven: you want the truth? Fine. They needed a ornery little brat for their show, I was there and Salem Mandias, bless the bitch, figured she could save a few bucks hiring a homeless kid and letting part of my pay be in room and board.

Velvet: That has to be illegal!

Raven: no shit it's illegal. It's also the best thing that ever happened to me. I rode that woman's coattails from job to job and stayed off the streets until her husband noticed I never left and got CPS involved.

Coco: wait is that why First Edition Media group split in half?

Raven: well that and a few other things Salem was sweeping under the rug.

Coco: surprised you did any work with Salem and her grimmland productions after that.

Raven: why wouldn't I? Like I said she was good for me. But after a while she started getting more controlling and nasty so I bounced between her studio and Oz's Clocktower films until I set out with my own little talent agency.

Velvet: and now you're working with them again?

Raven: you said it yourself Beacon is one of the most beloved franchises out there. They both wanna do something with it, they have scripts and sets, I have talent and history.

Coco: and a kid trying to make it big.

Raven: try three. Yang, Sun, and saffron.

Velvet: the triplets. You must be so proud.

Raven: right. Proud. Listen this has been...not terrible but I have a meeting in a hour with Salems daughters summer and Ruby so I need to leave.

---

A few things that didn't make it into this bit.

Raven is a only child in this universe, Qrow is a friend.

A few families have been shook up a bit.

She lied on Suns birth certificate. He was the third born and she was so tired from back to back births when she saw him she just said Son. She just lets them think she meant sun.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

In a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of Vale—White Fang banners hanging crookedly from the rafters—Adam Taurus stood in the center of a chalked-out sparring circle, Wilt drawn and Blush sheathed at his hip. A dozen of his most loyal lieutenants formed a loose ring around him, some nursing bruises, others looking nervously excited.

"Again!" Adam barked, resetting his stance. "This time, argue your point properly! Convince me your ideals are worth dying for while you attack!"

A burly bull Faunus charged, swinging a massive axe. "Humans will always oppress us! We take what we deserve!"

Adam parried effortlessly, Wilt flashing red as he absorbed the strike and countered with a precise slash that shattered the man's aura in one hit.

"Weak!" Adam snarled. "That's not conviction—that's whining! Easily defeated, by word and by sword!"

The bull Faunus fell back, groaning on the floor. Adam shook his head angrily.

"Jaune Arc would never settle for such a pathetic monologue!"

The room went dead quiet.

One of the younger recruits, a fox-eared girl, raised a tentative hand. "Uh... sir? You mean the human from Beacon? The one who is like your friend-?"

"MY ETERNAL RIVAL!" Adam roared, then immediately composed himself, sheathing Wilt with a dramatic flourish. "Not a friend. Never a friend. Friends are for the weak. Rivals... rivals are forged in fire and respect."

He turned away, pacing. "He understands. The drama. The philosophy. The sheer artistry of a well-timed Moonslice under a blood-red sky!"

A lieutenant coughed. "Sir, isn't that the third time this week you've practiced that exact speech?"

Adam froze. "I am honing my craft. Preparation is the mark of a true warrior."

Another recruit whispered to his neighbor, "He has that poster of Arc in his quarters. The one from the Vytal Festival promo shoot."

"And action figures," someone else muttered. "Saw him posing them on his desk. Him, Arc, and... Belladonna."

Adam whipped around, mask hiding his flush but not the sudden tension in his shoulders. "Those are tactical models! For studying my rival's form! And Blake is... strategic nostalgia! Nothing more!"

The bull Faunus, now back on his feet, grinned despite the bruise forming on his cheek. "Sure, boss. And you definitely don't do the voices when you play out your big showdown scenes."

He was knocked out with a single blow by Adam.

"I DO NOT PLAY WITH THEM!" Adam shouted, then caught himself. He straightened, adjusting his coat. "I... rehearse. Extensively. 'To the best enemy I ever had!'—delivered at sunset, thunder rolling, auras clashing in a symphony of—"

He realized the entire room was staring.

"...Dismissed," he growled.

The lieutenants scrambled out, trying (and failing) to hide their smirks.

Alone in the warehouse, Adam waited until the last footsteps faded. Then he stalked to his private quarters—a spartan room with a single cot, weapon racks, and yes, a full-wall poster of Jaune Arc mid-Aura Slash, looking heroic and ridiculously earnest.

On his desk sat three hand-painted action figures: Adam (with a mini Wilt), Blake (posed dramatically with Gambol Shroud), and Jaune (complete with tiny Crocea Mors and removable shield). He hadn't figured out the kung fu action yet, but he'd get it soon.

Adam glanced at the door. Locked.

He picked up Jaune's figure, turning it in the light.

"My eternal rival," he muttered, voice softening just a fraction. "One day, Jaune Arc... we will meet again. And it will be legendary."

He set Jaune down opposite his own figure, carefully positioning them for maximum dramatic tension.

Then, in a whisper barely audible:

"'You were a worthy opponent, Adam Taurus... to the best enemy I ever had.'"

He posed Adam's figure with Wilt raised high.

"'No, Jaune Arc—the honor was mine!'"

A pause.

"...And then Blake runs in dramatically, conflicted but ultimately choosing—"

Adam froze, realized what he was doing, and hurriedly shoved all three figures into a drawer.

"NOT WEIRD!" he declared to the empty room.

 

[zMADLAXz]

This Interaction is Inspired by Jaune SI BS and my own head canon regarding Great Temporal Step Sibling War, I would try to get the characterization as close as possible but it is completely possible I may write something that would stray from the two character's original intent.

I give you, Jaune Once and Future Knight

---

The hallways of Beacon had changed. Gone were the familiar beiges and muted greys, the practical greens that once defined its quiet discipline. In their place bloomed a richness of hue, velvet purples, burnished golds, deep ambers and radiant yellows, colors that wrapped the academy in defiant splendor.

They circled Beacon like a living mural, a bold refusal against the ever-encroaching darkness that sought to smother the fragile flames of all that yet endured. Each shade felt deliberate, almost reverent, as though the walls themselves remembered what they were protecting. As though someone had taken a color wheel and had decided to overhaul every corner of the institute one spoke at a time.

This rebellion was spoken not merely through saturation, but through form. Hallways once merely prestigious had become unmistakably royal. Ornate detailing traced the arches, tasteful vegetation breathed life into every corner, and the very skeleton of the academy had been reimagined, refined, elevated, and lovingly restored.

It was not the Beacon Jaune Arc knew. It was not his current Academia that he may as well have fought against the world itself to get a chance to attend. No, this Beacon, with its high arches, with marble busts of Heroes he had no recollection of doting every corner, with pupils and faculty out numbering the busiest day of his beloved school..... this was not his Beacon.

More evidence that this was not his world.

Vale had changed, Mistral had changed, Atlas had no mention of but in its place people spoke of the Icy plains of Epimetheus.

As he walked through this living palimpsest of layers of modern and classic, of various countries, he pondered upon his destination.

Three days since he woke up in this World, after already being transmigrated into this body, he had not expected to be part of another multiversal picnic stop, but here he was after attending the reception of his friend/ex-bully he had gone to sleep in the arms of his lovely girlfriend, someone that he had much difficulty accepting in the beginning of this newly topsy-turvy possible after life of his.

He had not but the clothes on his back, waking up in the old apartment he had rented in Vale when he had started his journey to Beacon proper, with an envelope on his chest that spoke to him about this new world in a very utilitarian but sparse detail.

After much silent panicking on his part he had decided to follow the advice of the letter, written in a script that was oddly reminiscent of his own penmanship but more flowy and legalese in its formatting. What he had learned of this world had shaken him, but that just made this trip all the more important.

Now here he was, after getting an anonymous message on his scroll that accompanied him, he walked towards the elevator that took him towards the Headmaster's Office.

---

He looked into a mirror, a much more regal, mature, older mirror.

The man waiting for him wore command as effortlessly as a tailored coat.
The man waiting for him wore a long, dark overcoat, tailored close and finished with a high collar that framed his face like a uniform refined by time. Muted brass buttons ran down the front in neat, deliberate rows, military in origin, but stripped of insignia or decoration.

The influence of command lingered in the details: squared shoulders, faint piping along the seams, a controlled flare at the waist. Beneath the coat, a crisp white shirt and narrow dark cravat completed the look, formal without excess. Polished boots and pressed trousers spoke of discipline rather than display.

"I didn't know I needed glasses, but it seems that's just another new thing I would need to keep track of", spoke Jaune to this apparent doppelganger of his.

"These? Habit, mostly. They help me focus. A physical reminder.", spoke the man standing in front of a large desk, standing calmly. One would expect him standing like a warrior or a trained soldier, calm but ready for action, but to Jaune's reading he came off as completely civilian. Odd.

"Now then, since it is somewhat clear to you what is happening, let's not tire ourselves and sit, we have much to discuss", said the strange man, as he politely pointed Jaune towards a chair in front of his desk while he took to sitting on the other side of the desk, on a grander chair.


........

As Jaune sat, he agonized over what to say but as if to save him some pain the man opposite to him spoke.

"Let's cut to the chase, yes this is not the Remnant you have come to know, do not worry you will be sent back to your house very soon, and no time would have passed, it took some effort to arrange such fortuitous circumstance but it is well worth it"

"Good then let me ask you another easy question, why?" asked Jaune.

"Perspective mostly", replied the probably older version of him, "To show you that even after the worst of times, humankind, including Faunus in that definition of course, would prosper." he said, "That would be the standard answer I would give you, because I know you realize the cracks underneath the facades"

To that Jaune replied, "....This peace, is somehow even more troubling than the one Ozma established, 16 years after her defeat, and even now you are running this place as if the webs underneath could dissolve."
Jaune continued after swallowing a little, "In that letter, you pointed me towards to things to look for, look underneath the underneath, and it all told me of a world that would heal, but the Doctors would have to fist fight the Gods for every day more"

For a moment, there was nothing but silence but Jaune spoke, "So what do I call you? Jaune Arc? That's still who I am in my head. Right now, you feel… further away from that than I do"

"Call me whatever you want, though Arc has been a common one to refer to me after so many years", spoke the more experienced looking man.

"Then tell me, Arc, you know a lot about what I am, not just externally but internally, spiritually, tell me what is the point of all this, not just this Remnant but me being me , why did I end up riding shotgun in someone else's life while the world suddenly hinges on things that shouldn't matter this much?", fervently asked Jaune.

"Its not up to us to decide what the collective rolling averages of the forces of the world consider important." said Arc, now looking a little sullen but still confidently looking in Jaune's eyes.

"I love this world, its people, what it represents." he said

"I love this world simply because it is where everyone I love lives, where I keep all my stuff ha ha ha, but it is much more than that, a place where stories come to rest, yet for every scrape of peace we earn, several more factors work to accelerate entropy. The fact of the matter is I simply could not accept the cost it came with, the sacrifices all those that should have lived and prospered had to make while the enemy sat in its grand halls."

"That still doesn't explain why all this? Why Jaune Arc and I?" asked Jaune.

"Because I do not have anyone else to fall back to, not in this world; not in any other", said Arc, "I am Jaune Arc, and only his choices do I have control over, you know of a world where his children found their way to him despite the divergent timelines, yes?"

"Consider yourself in a situation where both the worlds have some problem but different approach towards the solution."

"My world is a Pine that is caught in the fires, it may not be able to save itself, but as long as the seeds remain, life wins. I want to make places where everyone I have come to love may find peace."

"All that but it doesn't explain to me what happened to the Jaune whose life I upended"

"You didn't upend anyone's life, take that fear of being a parasite out of your mind.", said Arc, "You have given this story to everyone around you that you are an Oracle, yes?"

"Well that is the one that fits the best."

"Then let me ask you this, why do you remember everything in such a stark detail? Why despite being uncountable eons away from primary sources you remember things in such a reliable manner?" daringly challenged Arc, to which Jaune fell silent. He looked for answers that called to him, but as if some final push was required he couldn't make it on his own.

"Let's go a step further even, you are a good man, so you have self control, but what has made you noble, resourceful, and so eager to jump into the fires? Beyond the call of duty, thinking of yourself as someone who doesn't belong, beyond just your unique situation"

Arc removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes and then calmly set them down. As he focused on Jaune again, Jaune noticed how much darker his eyes looked, as compared to his Father's.

Father.

Jaune's eyes dilated, as he took a sharp breath, looking intently at Arc, now starting to pin point what he was getting at,"...This wasn't completely random, it was orchestrated, at least to some extent, and Jaune, Jaune, isn't completely gone is he? I am him, and he is ...me?"

That ease with which he noticed things about his, Jaune's parents, how he could integrate into this life, how he could just look into the eyes of this stranger and call him his reflection.

"In that infinitesimal moment when you woke up, Jaune had a choice, Destiny made a tryst with him, the Tree, the Blacksmith, the force of nature you call Juniper, whatever thing you could think of, they rolled a dice."

"Truth is, this world wants to live, wants to prosper, yet things have gone FUBAR, so now it's carpet bombing solutions, Moses became the Noah for the other world, you simply became for this."

"You talk of the world as if it is....alive, as if there is a giant consciousness that silently judges it all"

"It is not exactly that. Think of it as the halfway point between Evolution and genuine Intelligence. It simply spread its roots to where it would keep it more alive, but then some took notice of it and decided to be proactive"

"Then where do I settle on this? Just an unwilling observer folded into it this chaos?" asked Jaune.

"I.... I am sorry, sometimes it does things no one is capable of predicting, believe me I have no control over the processes or what it thinks, but please understand, if there is a solution I am looking for it"

".....Literally Grand Ordered me into this, great. Want some free advice?" asked Jaune.

"Hmmm", inquisitively gestured Arc.

"Stop looking for these kind of things. As much as I was not a part of this, it's now personal, yeah it could be due to our shared life experiences, could be thousand other factors, but now in for a penny in for a pound I am seeing this through, I may not be this Hero/Deuteragonist like this blonde one, but I got my own pride as a man dammit, I know whatever happened to me wasn't probably nice or peaceful that my Soul ended so so far away from home, So instead of trying to be like Ozma junior, start looking for other solutions to your problems as well."

"Thank You, It really does help a lot", said Arc, "Now, let's get to my favorite part, shall we?".

"You have a favorite part in all of this?" asked Jaune quite befuddled.

"Would planning ways to Bitch slap Salem, Politically sweet talking all the greedy bastards on the planet into donating their Spine, and conveying designs and strategies to... what do they call it? Bring High Impact freedom to the Grimm count as a favorite part?" asked Arc.

"....Well, guess there had to be meat in this stupid sandwich of a world finally" said Jaune, "Talk shop, though if I could get something to drink, it would be golden."

"Agreed, I am partial to cold coffee, you?"

"Get me the same, Please and Thank You."

"Alright, and I suppose hard drinks for the After Party?"

"Ehhh, I wasn't gonna but if you insist." replied Jaune

They both laughed as Arc messaged the intercomm.

Two men sat in a grand office, planning, preparing.

Darkness approaches from all corners, it is ceaseless, blighted, voracious, yet those who stand against it are oft of remarkable ken.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The boutique district in Vale's upscale quarter was everything Weiss Schnee had grown up with: polished marble sidewalks, storefronts with gold lettering, mannequins dressed in fabrics that cost more than most people's monthly rent. She had insisted on this outing the moment she noticed Mia's favorite dress had become a crop top on her rapidly growing frame.

"Mia deserves clothes that fit," Weiss had declared in the common room two days ago, arms crossed, tone leaving no room for argument. "And Jaune, you have the fashion sense of a blindfolded Beowolf. I'm taking you both shopping. No excuses."

Jaune had opened his mouth to protest the expense, but Pyrrha's gentle hand on his shoulder and Nora's enthusiastic "DO IT, WEISS! MAKE HER THE CUTEST KITTY GIRL EVER!" had drowned him out. Even Yang, Blake and Ruby had allowed that letting Weiss splurge on Mia would do more good than harm-Or at least keep her from buying things for Mia Jaune wouldn't get to see.

So here they were on a crisp Saturday morning: Weiss in a tailored white coat and pale-blue scarf, Jaune looking mildly overwhelmed in his usual hoodie and jeans, and Mia skipping between them, one tiny gloved hand in each of theirs. Her fluffy ears poked out from beneath a beret Weiss had insisted was "seasonally appropriate."

Mia's eyes were saucers the moment they stepped into the first store-Les Petites Étoiles, a children's boutique that smelled faintly of lavender and new cotton. Racks of dresses in every color of the rainbow lined the walls, and a miniature carousel of hair accessories spun lazily near the register.

Weiss released Mia's hand with the air of a general unleashing troops. "Go. Explore. Touch everything. I need to see what styles you like."

Mia did not need to be told twice. She bolted, light-up sneakers flashing, and disappeared behind a display of tutus.

Jaune watched her go, fond and faintly anxious. "She's going to want one of everything."

"That's why I brought two arms and an unlimited credit limit," Weiss said dryly, steering him toward the dress section. "Relax, Arc. This is my treat."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Weiss, you don't have to-"

"I want to." She cut him off, softer this time. "Let me do something nice for her. For both of you."

Jaune's protest died in his throat. He just smiled back warmly, and got one in return. He had to admit, he liked her smile.

They found Mia already buried in a rack of velvet dresses, ears twitching with delight. She emerged triumphant, holding a dark purple dress with tiny embroidered stars along the hem.

"Look, Papa! I'm a night sky!"

Jaune's smile was helpless. "You absolutely are."

Weiss plucked the dress from her hands with an expert eye. "Excellent taste. The color complements your ears. We'll take it in her size—and the matching coat." She handed it to the hovering attendant without looking. "Next."

The next hour dissolved into a whirlwind of cotton, corduroy, and sparkles. Mia tried on party dresses, practical jumpers, a tiny leather jacket that made her look like a pint-sized biker ("Auntie Yang will love this," she declared solemnly), and a winter coat with faux-fur trim that turned her into a walking snowball. Weiss approved, vetoed, and occasionally overruled Jaune's hesitant "Do we really need three cardigans in the same color family?"

"Yes," Weiss said each time, "because children grow like weeds and pastel pink is timeless."

Jaune eventually stopped arguing and started carrying the growing pile of bags.

At one point Mia disappeared into a fitting room with a particularly poofy lavender dress. The attendant took it in to help her, leaving Jaune and Weiss alone among the racks of miniature formalwear.

Silence settled, comfortable but heavy. Jaune fingered the sleeve of a tiny blazer, eyes distant.

"She would've loved this," he said quietly.

Weiss didn't pretend not to know who he meant. "Katie?"

He nodded. "She always talked about dressing Mia up. Said she wanted to dress our daughter up in every which way, make her feel like a star. Her own mother passed away when she was young, so... She wanted to be there for her. Cooking, cleaning, dressing up, braiding her hair." His mouth twisted.

"I'm… not great at the braiding part yet."

Weiss watched him carefully. "You're doing remarkably well at the rest."

Jaune's laugh was soft and self-deprecating. "Some days it doesn't feel like it. I'm twenty, Weiss. Most people my age are worried about midterms and dating. I'm worried about whether I remembered to pack extra snacks and if I'm selfish for dragging a four-year-old to a combat school because I can't let go of a promise I made to a dying woman."

Weiss's expression softened in a way she rarely allowed in public. "You're honoring a promise to someone you love. There's nothing selfish about that."

He looked at her then, really looked. "You sound like you understand."

She glanced toward the fitting-room curtain to make sure Mia was still occupied, then spoke, voice low. "My father wasn't… a father. He was a master. Every lesson, every outfit, every social function was designed to make the Schnee name shine brighter. I learned early that love was conditional on performance." She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from a nearby dress. "Coming to Beacon was the first decision I ever made purely for myself. Not for the company, not for Father's approval. Just… me."

Jaune was quiet, listening.

"I used to think that made me selfish," she continued. "Wanting freedom, wanting to be a Huntress instead of a heiress. Wanting to sing because it made me happy, not because it polished the brand." She met his eyes. "But watching you… you're chasing a dream for Katie, for Mia, for the people you want to protect. That's not selfish. That's the opposite."

Jaune swallowed. "I want to be the kind of man she believed I could be. The kind who keeps people safe. Mia, my team, my friends… people I haven't even met yet. I want to stand between them and the darkness." He gave a small, wry smile. "Selfish dreams can still serve something bigger, I guess."

Weiss's lips curved-almost a smile, almost something warmer. "Exactly."

The curtain swished open. Mia twirled out in the lavender dress, skirt billowing like a princess. "Well?" she demanded.

Weiss's composure snapped back into place, but her eyes were soft. "Perfect. We're taking it."

They would have left the final store with enough bags to require two trips to the bullhead if Jaune hadn't put his foot down, but number of shopping bags was still immense. Mia was half-asleep on Jaune's shoulder, new beret crooked, clutching a stuffed snow leopard Weiss had slipped into the pile when he wasn't looking.

Weiss led them to a small corner café she claimed had "the best éclairs in Vale." The place was all warm wood and soft jazz, with a patio overlooking a quiet courtyard fountain. They claimed a table outside; Mia perked up the moment hot chocolate was mentioned.

Jaune eyed the menu prices and winced. "Weiss, you really didn't have to buy all that. I can pay you back-"

"Absolutely not." She cut him off with an imperious wave. "I wanted to. Consider it an investment in Mia looking presentable when she inevitably charms the entire student body."

"But-"

"Jaune." Her voice gentled. "I have more money than I could spend in three lifetimes. Father made sure of that. Let me use it on people who matter. On friends." She paused, then added with a small smirk, "You can buy lunch next time. Fair?"

He exhaled, relieved. "Deal."

Mia sipped her hot chocolate with both hands, whipped cream on her nose, ears twitching happily as she swung her legs under the table. Jaune ordered sandwiches and soup; Weiss got tea and an éclair she insisted on splitting three ways, when she wasn't cooing and playing with the eager Mia.

While they waited, Mia started telling a rambling story about how her new snow leopard plush was actually a secret Grimm hunter in disguise. Jaune listened with the patient, adoring expression that always made Weiss's chest feel oddly tight.

The food soon arrived. Jaune cut Mia's sandwich into tiny, manageable triangles, and Mia tore into it happily. This gave the adults a moment of relative quiet.

"You're a good father, Jaune," Weiss said suddenly.

He froze, fork halfway to his mouth. "I… try to be."

"No. You are." She set her teacup down precisely. "You're responsible, patient, loving. You put her first every single day, even when it's hard. Even when you're exhausted. That's… rare."

Jaune's ears turned pink. He ducked his head. "Thank you, Weiss. That means a lot. Especially coming from you."

She allowed herself a small smile. "I only speak the truth."

Mia chose that moment to yawn hugely, nearly toppling out of her chair. Jaune caught her instinctively.

"Someone's ready for a nap," he murmured, settling her against his side. She was out within minutes, head pillowed on his arm, new coat draped over her like a blanket.

Weiss watched them, something soft and unfamiliar unfolding behind her ribs.

This feels suspiciously like a date, her mind whispered gleefully.

Lunch with a friend and his daughter, she corrected sternly.

A friend whose eyes crinkle when he laughs, who carries more weight than any twenty-year-old should have to, who looks at you like you hung the moon when you buy his child hair ribbons.

Shut up, she told the voice. He's a widower.

But she didn't look away when Jaune glanced up and smiled—small, tired but grateful and warm.

"Thank you," he said again, quieter. "For today. For all of it."

Weiss lifted her chin, composing herself. "You're welcome. Though next time, we're doing shoes. Those light-up sneakers won't match formalwear."

Jaune groaned dramatically. "My wallet weeps in advance."

"Your wallet is safe. I've already decided. And it will stay that way until I say otherwise."

"Yes ma'am..."

- - -

Some White Knight for those of you craving that in this little story.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The hallway outside Team RWBY's dorm was supposed to be secure: familiar faces, locked doors, the usual Beacon bustle. And Mia Arc was supposed to obey the rules of staying where it was safe. But Mia, ever the explorer, had slipped away during a game of hide-and-seek with Ruby's cloak as camouflage. One moment she was giggling behind a potted plant; the next, her tiny feet had carried her two doors down to a room she'd never seen open before.

The door to Team CMEN's dorm was cracked just enough for a curious four-year-old to squeeze through.

Inside, Cinder Fall stood in front of a full-length mirror, adjusting the fall of her elaborate red dress, the golden accents catching the lamplight like dying coals. Emerald Sustrai lounged on a bed, scrolling idly through her scroll, while Mercury Black leaned against the wall, boots kicked up on a chair, practicing lazy spins of one of his taloned feet.

The soft patter of small shoes made all three freeze.

Mia stood in the doorway, ears perked high, eyes wide with wonder. She took in the room like it was a treasure cave—then zeroed in on Cinder.

"Your dress is so pretty!" she announced, voice bright and fearless. "It's like a villain princess! But the good kind!"

Cinder's visible eye narrowed a fraction, but her cover as the poised, mysterious transfer student held. She turned slowly, forcing her lips into something that might pass for a smile among people who didn't know better.

"Thank you," she said, voice smooth as silk over steel. "That's… very kind."

Mia toddled closer, undaunted, clutching her stuffed bunny by one ear. "And your hair is all fancy! Can I have hair like that? Pleeease?"

Emerald sat up, exchanging a quick, panicked glance with Mercury. Mercury just raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the sudden hostage situation of the cuteness variety.

Cinder hesitated—only a heartbeat—then gestured to the vanity chair. "Why don't you sit? I'll show you."

Mia scrambled up without waiting for a second invitation, kicking her legs happily. Cinder picked up a brush from the vanity—ebony handle, surprisingly gentle bristles—and began working it through Mia's soft blonde curls. She sectioned the hair with practiced precision, twisting it into an elegant half-up style that echoed her own severe, sweeping waves.

Mia watched in the mirror, utterly enchanted. "It's like magic! You're really good at this!"

Cinder's movements stayed careful, almost mechanical. "Practice," she murmured.

Emerald leaned forward, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. "Hey, kid, you like my hair too?"

Mia twisted to look, nearly toppling off the chair until Cinder steadied her with one hand. "It's super cool! All green and bouncy! Like a forest fairy!"

Emerald's cheeks colored slightly-she wasn't used to compliments. "Uh… thanks?"

"And you!" Mia pointed at Mercury with the authority only a four-year-old could muster. "You're super neat! Your legs are like robot boots! Do they go zoom?"

Mercury barked a short laugh, dropping his feet to the floor. "Kid, you have no idea."

The door suddenly burst open.

Jaune stood there, breathless, relief crashing over his face like a wave. "Mia!"

"Papa!" She hopped down and ran to him. He scooped her up instantly, holding her tight against his chest.

"I'm so sorry," he said to the room at large, though his eyes lingered on Cinder with extra caution. "She wandered off during hide-and-seek. Thank you for… keeping an eye on her."

Cinder set the brush down with deliberate calm. "It was nothing," she said, voice perfectly pleasant. "She's a charming child."

Mia waved enthusiastically over Jaune's shoulder. "Bye, pretty lady! Bye, forest fairy! Bye, robot boots!"

Emerald managed a weak wave. Mercury smirked and saluted with two fingers.

Jaune backed out, murmuring another apology, and pulled the door shut behind him.

Silence settled over the room like dust.

Cinder stood motionless in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection-or perhaps through it.

Emerald broke first. "…You okay?"

Cinder's lips curved, but the smile didn't reach her eye. "Of course. I was simply maintaining our cover."

Mercury's smirk widened, but he said nothing-just leaned back again, boots thudding onto the chair.

Cinder turned away from the mirror, the ghost of small fingers still warm in her hair where Mia had patted it in delight.

She didn't speak again for a long while.

- - -

And just the tiniest bit for the ArcFall fans.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

All's well that ends well... Sort of.

- - -

In the cozy chaos of Team JNPR's dorm room, the air was light with the usual banter. Ren was brewing tea, Nora was sprawled across her bed tossing a stress ball at the ceiling, and Jaune was fiddling with his sword and its maintenance kit. Pyrrha sat cross-legged on her bed, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her red hair. The conversation had drifted to Jaune's past, and Pyrrha saw her chance to probe—delicately, she hoped—about this Katy Sith, the cat Faunus ex who'd been haunting her thoughts since Ruby's date proposal.

"Um…" Pyrrha started, her voice soft but deliberate. "So… You had a girlfriend?"

Jaune glanced up from his sword, oblivious to the weight of her question. "Hm? Oh, yeah. Katy Sith! She was great!"

Pyrrha's smile was tight, her heart doing a nervous little flip. "Was she?"

"Yeah!" Jaune grinned, his eyes lighting up with nostalgia. "We were childhood friends! Heh! I actually thought I'd marry her."

Pyrrha's breath caught, her fingers freezing mid-twist. "Did you?"

"But we decided we weren't going to," Jaune said, shrugging as he polished his blade. "We wanted other things out of life, ya know?"

Relief washed over Pyrrha, her shoulders sagging as her smile softened. "Oh! Oh… Yeah…"

Nora, catching the exchange like a hawk, sat up, her stress ball forgotten. "So! How far did you two get?" she asked, her grin positively devilish.

Jaune's polishing slowed, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "…"

Pyrrha's eyes flicked to him, her curiosity now tinged with dread. "… Jaune?"

"I uh…" Jaune cleared his throat, his blush deepening. "I really shouldn't say."

Pyrrha's expression brightened, latching onto his reticence as a lifeline. "Oh, you're being so polite and gentlemanly!"

"Yup!" Jaune said, seizing the escape. "How I was raised!"

Nora snickered, Ren let out a soft chuckle, and even Pyrrha giggled, the tension breaking like a wave. But Pyrrha's curiosity, once sparked, refused to die. She leaned forward, her voice carefully casual.

"… So… Um… How far did you two go?"

Jaune's hands fumbled, nearly dropping his sword. "Um… Well uh… It's not important, right?"

"Of-Of course not!" Pyrrha said quickly, her cheeks flushing as she waved a hand, trying to play it off.

"Right, right…" Jaune muttered, focusing intently on a nonexistent smudge on his blade.

A beat of silence hung in the air.

Nora grinned.

"You totally fucked, didn't you?"

"NORA!" Jaune yelped, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled Pyrrha's hair. His sword clattered onto the floor as he flailed, mortified.

"Well, at least you'll handle Blake just fine," Ren observed.

- - -

Blake Belladonna stood at the Bullhead port in Vale, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She'd chosen her outfit carefully—a white sweater that hugged her curves, a black skirt, and stockings that gave her the look of the naughty, book-loving girl she secretly fantasized about being. Her bow twitched slightly as she scanned the crowd, waiting for Jaune.

The rumble of an engine caught her attention, and her eyes widened as Jaune Arc rolled up on a Wayland 205 heavy offroad bike, its sleek frame gleaming under the Vale sun. His blonde hair was slightly tousled from the ride, and his easy smile sent a flush creeping up Blake's cheeks.

"Oh! Uh… I didn't know you had a motorcycle," Blake said, her voice betraying her surprise.

Jaune dismounted, patting the bike fondly. "Well, I couldn't travel from Radian all the way on foot. Besides, my dad gave it to me for my birthday. I've uh, I've kept it in storage because it's cheaper." He flashed a warm smile. "But it's a good day to take it out for a spin. Don't you think?"

Blake's blush deepened, her ears twitching beneath her bow. "S-Sure."

She climbed onto the back of the motorcycle, her arms wrapping around Jaune's waist, her heart racing as the engine roared to life. He pulled into traffic at a steady pace, but Blake's mind was anything but steady. As the wind whipped past, her imagination spiraled into one of her favorite fantasies.

"Even if it's just us against the world, Princess," the noble Biker Knight Tetsuo swore, dodging explosions with deft precision, "I will never leave your side!"

"Oh, Tetsuo~!" Princess Nekomata cried, clinging to him tightly as her kimono rode up over her smooth, long legs—

"We're here!" Jaune's voice snapped Blake back to reality.

"Ah! O-Oh! Good," Blake stammered, her face burning as she slid off the bike.

Jaune parked, and they walked toward the Celsus Bookstore and Coffee House, its charming facade promising a cozy escape. He glanced at her, his tone casual. "Do you want to browse or get lunch first?"

"I… I think lunch would be nice first," Blake said, smoothing her skirt.

"Works for me," Jaune replied with a grin.

They settled at an outdoor table, the sun casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets of Old Vale. The waitress brought their coffees and teas, and Blake scanned the menu, her gaze drifting to the bustling city around them. The architecture was stunning, the people moved with purpose and joy, and yet… a shadow lingered in her mind.

Jaune's voice broke through her thoughts. "Blake?"

"Sorry… I just…" Her bow twitched, betraying her unease. "I guess I just feel… A little guilty. You're being very kind to me and… And I realize I haven't been very kind to you."

Jaune tilted his head, his expression softening. "Well… I mean… No."

Blake's scowl was immediate, her eyes narrowing.

"Quickly," Jaune added, raising his hands defensively, "you're doing okay now though."

Blake's frown deepened, her voice quiet. "I… I guess I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do."

"Just talk," Jaune said, his tone encouraging. "About something you like. I mean, I don't read a lot of novels anymore, but I do like to read for fun."

Blake raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "I've only seen you with X-Ray and Vav."

Jaune chuckled, unfazed. "I mean, yeah, but that's just like, potato chip reading. My parents were actually really big on the classics."

Blake's interest piqued, her ears perking slightly. "Oh? Like what?"

"Well, um, Aristos' Physics, Politics, Metaphysics… Bardic's plays… The theological works of Saint Edmund, Eustace, and Lucy… And lots of classic kids' books. Ya know, Mark Clemens, T. Selliot, Yules Tern…"

Blake lit up, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I grew up reading a lot of those too, actually." Her smile grew. "I still do from time to time."

"No kidding? That's great!" Jaune's grin widened. "I mean, the CCT signal wasn't always the best out in Radian until my teens, so I had to entertain myself with a lot of other things."

"Same," Blake said, her voice warming. "Fishing, hiking… There are a lot of beautiful beaches around Menagerie, and coral reefs. Despite how dangerous it is, I always liked going out. Not so much swimming, but I loved watching whales and fishing. My father cooked a lot of food on an open fire."

"Hey, mine too!" Jaune said, leaning forward. "We had the mountains, and I hiked a lot. There's the Hanging Lake above Radian, and there's this beautiful waterfall! My uh…" He screwed up his face, counting on his fingers. "Great-Great-Great Grandfather made it as a wedding gift for his bride, by redirecting a mountain river. It's called the Love Story Waterfall."

Blake's eyes sparkled. "I've heard of that! I always wanted to see it…"

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from literature to childhood adventures. Their food arrived—sandwiches and salads—and they kept talking, barely pausing to eat. After paying, they wandered into the bookstore, their discussion growing more animated.

"I always thought Plateau was overrated as a philosopher," Blake said, browsing a shelf of dusty tomes.

"I dunno, I did like the dialogue he wrote about his teacher and the giant dragon monster," Jaune replied, picking up a book and flipping through it.

Blake smirked. "Heh. I suppose you would remember that one."

"Well, he is talking about how a creature that is so alien to our experience would see us as… As abominations," Jaune said, his tone thoughtful. "If it was like, a pure ideal in physical form. How something pure, even if it's pure evil, would be out of place in a world that's compromised like Remnant. That's kind of neat."

Blake's smirk faded, replaced by a grudging nod. "Hmph. His ideal 'Republic' is the very worst kind of tyranny."

"Yeah, but, nobody's perfect," Jaune said, making a face. "Urgh. My brain feels like it's turning rusty gears remembering all that stuff."

Blake glanced at him, her expression softening. "You know a lot more about it than I would expect a… Um, farmboy to know. No offense."

"None taken," Jaune said with a grin. "My mom wanted me to be a doctor, like her. But well… I wanted to be a Hunter more. Like my dad… And her."

Blake nodded, her gaze distant. "I see… My parents wanted me to take over their… Business as well. I worked very hard with the movement. I studied, I protested, I wrote letters… It just… It never seemed like it was enough."

Her frown returned, heavier this time. "I thought that… That political power only grows out of the barrel of a gun. That if you wanted real change to happen, you needed to force it."

Jaune's own expression grew serious, his eyes meeting hers.

"… Turns out it's… Not that simple," Blake admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Jaune agreed softly, offering a small smile. "I used to ask my great-grandma why she didn't just force people to do what she wanted. She was… Very powerful in her youth. Everyone in the town respects her deeply. But bad things still happen."

Blake tilted her head, curious. "What did she say?"

"She said that no one, no matter how much power they have, can fix everything," Jaune said. "And nobody with ultimate power can be trusted not to abuse it. So… You have give and take. It sucks, but…" He shrugged. "I guess no matter how right you can feel you are, you can still be wrong."

Blake's eyes softened, her voice quiet. "… I suppose there's something to that… But it's not the easiest thing to accept."

"No," Jaune said simply.

"But it is better to accept it than to deny reality…" Blake sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You've been nothing but nice to me. The others too… Even Weiss, sort of. And I just… Lash out. Like I'm fighting injustice. And… And I don't really think I am."

Jaune's tone was gentle but firm. "I mean… I don't think fighting injustice is the problem. It's just how you're doing it."

"I know, I know…" Blake said, frustration creeping into her voice. "I just don't know how to do it differently. Or if it would even work. And so I'm just… I'm frustrated. And I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either," Jaune admitted, his smile reassuring. "But I'm willing to help you, Blake. So is everyone else."

Blake hesitated, her eyes searching his. "… I'll think about it. It… That's not a no. I just…"

Jaune nodded, understanding. "Yeah. I-I get it…"

They paid for their books—a mix of classics and guilty pleasures—and headed back to the motorcycle. As they approached, Blake's voice took on a sly edge. "You know, all of our friends have been spying on us since we got here."

Jaune sighed, glancing at the not-so-subtle rustling bushes nearby. "Yeah… I'm aware."

Blake's smirk grew, her eyes glinting with mischief. "… You're… What do you feel about that?"

"Well, they're concerned about you," Jaune said, shrugging. "Pyrrha's also really concerned for some reason. I guess she's just being an overly protective big sister."

Blake stared, her smirk faltering. "… Really?"

"Well, that's how she comes off as," Jaune said, oblivious to the storm he was stirring. "Like, I appreciate everything she's doing for me, but she keeps coddling me like she's afraid she'll break me."

Blake had promised herself she wouldn't be mean anymore, that she wouldn't stir up trouble. But the opportunity was too perfect, and her playful side won out. She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a teasing purr. "I see… So… Are you still interested in Weiss?"

Jaune blinked, caught off guard. "Hm? No. I mean, she's great, but no. I was kind of a jerk, and she was like, the opposite of my last girlfriend—Oh, um, sorry. I shouldn't mention her—"

"You're not just taking me out on a date because I remind you of her, do I~?" Blake asked, her tone sultry as she closed the distance, her eyes locked on his.

Jaune gulped, his face reddening. "I uh… N-No! No! She um, she wasn't big on books or uh… Nerding out, really…"

Blake's smirk widened, her voice a soft challenge. "So you're… Definitely single?"

"Y-Yes?" Jaune stammered, his back brushing against the motorcycle.

Blake's eyes gleamed. "Not anymore." She grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss, her lips warm and bold against his.

- - -

From a poorly concealed hiding spot nearby, chaos erupted.

"WHAT?!" Ruby's voice squeaked, her hood falling back as she gaped.

Yang's jaw dropped, her fists clenching. "I-SHE'S JUST A RERUN! AND I CAN TALK NERD STUFF!"

Weiss's face turned scarlet, her voice a mix of outrage and denial. "How DARE she—She can't just—She's doing it to get to me, I just know it!"

Ruby, her tone dripping with sarcasm, shot Weiss a look. "I thought you didn't have any feelings for him."

"I DON'T!" Weiss snapped, her blush betraying her.

Pyrrha's eye twitched, her voice barely a whisper. "Sister…?! He sees me like a sister?!"

Nora, clutching one of Blake's novels, grinned wickedly. "I don't see the problem! It's right here in one of Blakey's books: 'Incest is best, put your sister to the test!'"

"NORA!" Ruby yelped, horrified.

"WHAT?!" Nora shot back, unrepentant.

Pyrrha's face turned as red as her hair, her mind spiraling as she… considered…

Ren sighed, his voice calm but resigned. "Jaune… I shall pray for your departed soul."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Also guys, GREAT NEWS!

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Arrastra_Skye

Apparently using Plant Dust to heal and restore others' Aura is CANON to RWBY, via the Semblance of this... Severely underwhelming character in RWBY: The Grimm Campaign wherein the cast of RWBY played through a RWBY-themed DnD campaign.

Plant Dust is canon and apparently, so is this campaign (somehow).

https://rwby.fandom.com/wiki/Dust#Plant

So Healing Dust is actually a thing. Or can easily be a thing.

 

[Sliverhero]

Here is a breath of fire crossover. what if the Arc family was one of the few family's left that have dragon blood still left in them and for jaune he unlocked that powerful bloodline that even gods feared.

The Fall of Beacon : The Dragon's Last Resort

Beacon Tower was already dying when Jaune Arc finally broke. Pyrrha Nikos hit the stone hard, Aura shattering in a spray of red light. Her spear skittered uselessly across the floor as Cinder Fall stepped forward, calm, triumphant, incandescent with stolen power. "Such potential," Cinder said softly. "Wasted."
"No." Jaune's voice came out wrong, too deep, too strained. He stood between Cinder and Pyrrha, armor cracked, sword shaking in his grip. His Aura was nearly gone.
But something else was waking up.
Cinder frowned. "You're persistent. I'll give you..."

Jaune screamed no he Roared .
The sound tore through the tower like a living thing. Metal warped. Stone cracked. Heat flooded the air as crimson light bled from the seams of his armor. Bones shifted violently beneath his skin, wings of burning energy ripping free as blackened scales crawled over his arms and face. Horns curved from his brow. His eyes burned molten gold.

Ruby froze. "Jaune…?", deep down inside her she knew this was no semblance.
She could feel in down in her blood, and some how knew an ancient bloodline was awoken in front of her. Jaune vanished in a blast of heat and reappeared beside Pyrrha, lifting her with hands that shook as much from restraint as from fury. In a heartbeat he was with Team RWBY, pressing Pyrrha into Ruby's arms.

"She's alive," he growled. "Take her. Go. Now."
Ruby stared up at him, tears forming. "Jaune, what are you?" His jaw clenched, fangs grinding together, bits of flames leaking out. "…Something I swore I'd never be." He turned back toward the tower's peak, wings flaring wider, casting everything in hellish red light. "I can't control the next form," he said, voice breaking under the weight of truth. "If I change again...run, just run and don't look back."
Yang opened her mouth. "GO!" The shout shook the tower. Weiss dragged Ruby away as Blake grabbed Yang. They fled as the air behind them collapsed inward. Cinder watched, unease finally cracking her smile.

"Well," she said carefully. "This is unexpected."
Jaune straightened. "This," he said, his voice layering, human beneath something vast and ancient, and raw "is the warning."
The hybrid form shattered, not transformed, Shattered, like a seal breaking.

Reality screamed as the Kaiser Dragon forced itself into existence. The tower disintegrated beneath its mass. Wings eclipsed the sky. Claws the size of buildings tore into Beacon's foundations as a single, burning eye opened, an eye that carried the weight of extinction.
Cinder didn't run, she just didn't have time.
The Kaiser exhaled, Not flame, only thing you could call it Erasure. Cinder Fall vanished, no body,no soul,no echo, just a hole where she was standing. The dragon roared, and the sound was not victory, It was hunger.

Below the tower, as they were fleeing, Team RWBY felt it like a hand around the world's throat. Ruby, she collapsed clutching Pyrrha as the shockwave rolled through Vale. Weiss's summons shattered instantly. Blake's shadow clones dissolved. Yang couldn't stop shaking.
They looked up, And understood why Jaune told them to run
"…That's not Jaune," Ruby whispered.
Ozpin marched with them appearing from some rubble they didn't notice, as they all watch the creature and if you could see Ozpin you notice the staff trembling in his grip.
"No," he said quietly. "That is what happens when a dragon reaches the end of its restraint without learning why it should remain human."


As this was happening and Inside the Kaiser dragon, Jaune was still there, his soul buried, drowning in the power that is the kaiser dragon.
His Aura wasn't draining, it was being consumed, as the dragon genes were unstable, incomplete. His aura is sacrificing itself to find a way for jaune soul to stabilise.
He hadn't found the rites, the balance, the anchor his clan required, all complete knowledge was destoryed by the purge done by the brother gods and only thing left are the scraps.

The Kaiser was never meant to be used, It was meant to be survived, but the legends go there will be one that will tame this beast.

On the outside, you can see Instinct drowning out thought. All that remains in the Kaiser heard are these order buried deep in the connection
Purge all corruption, Erase opposition and Continue the line.

The dragon's head turned, Toward Vale, it looks over at the group before looking back at Vale. It can feel the corruption throughout that city.
Ruby felt it, Felt him drowning. "Jaune!" she screamed. "Please... come back!"
The Kaiser inhaled. Ozpin's eyes widened in horror. "…Evacuate the city," he whispered. "If he exhales again, there won't be a Vale left to save." but he knows it is too late.

But luckily or unlucky the answer came. The sky above Beacon rotted. Black ichor poured downward like rain flowing in reverse, tearing open the clouds as something vast forced its way through reality. A Grimm Dragon descended. Bone-white armor. Wings of shadow. Eyes burning with Salem's will.
"So," Salem's voice echoed through it, calm and curious. "The Kaiser truly exists." The Grimm Dragon roared and unleashed a beam of corrupted energy. It struck the Kaiser, enough power to destory a city block and the blast just ceased to exist. The Kaiser didn't dodge. Didn't block, The corruption simply failed. The burning eye focused, onto the grimm dragon and for the first time, the Grimm Dragon hesitated.

Jaune's remaining consciousness screamed as the instinct surged higher. If the Kaiser destroyed the Grimm Dragon too quickly, the purge would continue. It wouldn't stop at Grimm. It wouldn't stop at Vale. The Kaiser inhaled again. Ozpin went pale. "This isn't a battle," he said hoarsely. "It's judgment."
Ruby sobbed. "JAUNE!"
For one heartbeat... One impossible heartbeat ..
The breath stalled. A memory surfaced through the storm. Pyrrha's weight in his arms.
Ruby saying his name like it mattered. A promise he never got to keep.

In that moment of weakness and sanity.
The Grimm Dragon lunged, slamming into the Kaiser with bone-shattering force. Mountains cracked from the impact. The Kaiser roared, not in rage, but in pain, a nd everyone understood the truth. All the wounds on its body from the Grimm dragon started to heal and it clicked with them, this form was never a weapon.It was a doomsday.

Jaune Arc hadn't mastered the dragon yet.
And Remnant was standing beneath a power that should never have awakened.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Jaune had always been the guy who tried too hard and still came up short. But the day he accidentally unlocked his mother's old Strength Enhancing Technique, everything changed.

He didn't even mean to do it. He'd watched his mom do it a hundred times back home—casual flex of Aura, a faint golden shimmer along her arms, and suddenly she could haul firewood like it was kindling. One afternoon in Vale's central park, Jaune saw a little girl crying under a tree because her cat, Mister Whiskers, had climbed too high. Without thinking, he reached for his Aura the way he'd seen her do it.

The surge hit him like warm lightning.

He wrapped both hands around the trunk of a full-grown oak and pulled.

The tree came up roots and all, dirt cascading down like brown rain. Jaune gave it an experimental shake. "Come on, Mister Whiskers… come out…!"

A small orange tabby dropped neatly into the waiting arms of the little girl.

So did Blake Belladonna.

She landed in a crouch, ears flat, amber eyes narrowed. The little girl hugged her cat and beamed up at Jaune. "Thanks, mister!"

"No problem!" Jaune said brightly, trying to figure out how to set a whole tree down gently. He didn't quite manage it. The oak slipped from his grip and crashed down—directly on top of a speeding getaway car the Vale PD had been chasing for three blocks.

Metal crumpled. Sirens wailed to a stop. Two officers jumped out, stared at the pinned vehicle, then at the sheepish blond holding a handful of broken roots.

"Thanks, kid!" one cop called. "Great work!"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck. "Um… no problem…? Blake?"

Blake brushed leaves from her sleeves, expression unreadable. "Jaune."

A week later, Team RWBY's dorm was the scene of minor tragedy.

Ruby lay flat on the floor, one arm stretched futilely under the common-room fridge. "Ah, dang it! I dropped the new focusing lens for Crescent Rose…

Hey, Yang, can you—"

"I got you, Ruby!" Jaune chirped, already striding over.

He bent, slipped one hand under the fridge, and lifted the entire thing one-armed, like it was an empty cardboard box.

Ruby blinked up at the suddenly exposed underside. "There it is!"

She snatched the lens, dusted it off, and only then noticed the fridge was still hovering three feet off the ground.

"Uh… you can drop the fridge now, right?"

"Oh! Right." Jaune carefully lowered it back into place, though he reached out and swept several items out from underneath it.

"That's... A lot of stuff," Jaune observed.

A silver locket, a hairbrush, fifty lien in crumpled bills, and—Ruby's face heating bright red—a dog-eared paperback titled Captive Ninja Kunoichi, cover featuring a suspiciously familiar dark-haired Faunus in strategic ropes.

Blake appeared in the doorway, took in the scene, and plucked the book from the pile without a word.

"I wondered where that went."

Jaune's blush reached his ears.

The real test came in the Emerald Forest during a routine Grimm-clearing exercise.

A Deathstalker the size of a city bus burst from the underbrush, tail stinger already arcing toward Jaune. He threw his shield up on reflex. The tail struck with a sound like a cannon shot.

Jaune didn't move an inch.

The Deathstalker recoiled, confused. It struck again. And again. Each impact rang against Crocea Mors like a hammer on an anvil, but Jaune stood rooted, boots sunk half an inch into the soil, utterly unmoved.

He glanced over his shield at his teammates. "Huh. Uh… can someone kill this thing now?"

Weiss's jaw actually dropped. "What—HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK?!"

Jaune shrugged, still holding back the furious Grimm with one arm. "I dunno, but it is!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Schnee mansion's grand foyer felt colder than Atlas winter that night.

Winter Schnee stood before her father's desk in the study, uniform crisp, posture flawless—even as Jacques Gele's words cut deeper than any blade.

"You are no longer a Schnee," he said, voice like frostbite. "You defy me at every turn—enlisting in the military, rejecting the company's future. Leave this house. You are disowned."

Willow sat silent in the corner, glass in hand, eyes distant. Whitley and Weiss weren't present—spared this, at least.

Winter's chin lifted. "If that's your decision, Father, I accept it."

She turned on her heel, strides measured, refusing to let him see the tremor in her hands.

Fafnir stood guard outside the study doors—seven feet of shadowed menace, wings folded like a cloak, red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. He didn't move as she passed, but his gaze followed her.

Winter paused at the top of the grand staircase, duffel bag slung over one shoulder—the few belongings she'd packed in defiance. She looked back at him.

"You're letting me go," she said quietly. "Just like that."

Fafnir's masked face was unreadable. "You're not a prisoner."

She descended a few steps, then stopped, turning to face him fully.

"You're a warrior, Fafnir. I've seen it—felt it—in every training session you risked giving me. You have honor. Code. Why do you continue to serve him? He's a corrupt monster who treats his own blood like assets to discard."

Fafnir was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low, gravel over steel.

"I owe him my life. More than once. He pulled me from the gutter, gave me purpose when my clan was ash. Paid for these—" he flexed his cybernetic claw, metal gleaming—"when assassins left me in pieces. Debts like that don't fade."

Winter's eyes narrowed. "And I owe him nothing. I'm his daughter, not his debtor."

"You owe him your life too," Fafnir said bluntly. "The privilege you were born into. The safety these walls gave you. But you're right—you're not his daughter anymore."

He stepped closer, towering over her, but there was no threat in it—only a strange, solemn weight.

"Go," he said. "Become strong. Stronger than him. Stronger than the chains he thinks he forged."

Winter searched his scarred, masked face for mockery and found none.

"You truly mean that."

"I do."

She exhaled slowly, the anger and hurt shifting into something fiercer—resolve.

"I will," she said. "I'll become the soldier he never wanted. The protector he couldn't buy."

Fafnir inclined his head—a rare gesture of respect.

"Then go, Winter Schnee-no-more. And don't look back."

She did exactly that—walked down the stairs, through the doors, into the Atlas night without hesitation.

But his words burned in her chest like a glyph she'd never forget.

Become strong.

She would.

For herself.

And someday, perhaps, strong enough to face even the dragon who'd let her go.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Altas, Solitas

- - -

The Schnee manor's sub-basement archive was a tomb of secrets—rows of locked filing cabinets, holographic projectors flickering with decades of ledgers, the air cold, dry and stale. The kind of air that sucked any warmth from your body, from your soul.

Whitley Schnee—sixteen, suit impeccable despite the late hour—sat at the central terminal, fingers flying over keys as he cross-referenced financial discrepancies. Years of quiet observation, of playing the perfect son while cataloging every lie, every bribe, every disappeared worker. It had all come down to this.

Fafnir stood behind him, a silent colossus—wings folded tight, cybernetic mask reflecting the screen's glow. He'd provided the access codes, the hidden drives, the muscle to retrieve what Jacques thought buried.

They'd been at it for hours.

Whitley paused, leaning back in the chair. His voice was quiet, but it cut the silence like ice cracking.

"Why are you doing this?"

Fafnir didn't move. Red eyes fixed on the screen.

"You're risking everything. Father's kill switches—your implants—he could end you with a command. You've served him faithfully for decades. Why betray him now? For me?"

Fafnir's claw flexed once—metal on metal.

"I swore to protect this family," he said finally, voice low thunder. "Not just Jacques. The bloodline. The name."

Whitley turned in the chair, searching the dragon's scarred, masked face.

"You protected us. Stood outside our doors. Trained Winter and Weiss in secret. But you also… did things. For him."

Fafnir's gaze dropped—a rare flicker of something like shame.

"Warden Schnee," he said.

Whitley's breath caught. He'd been young—too young to understand—but the stories lingered. Uncle Warden, the outspoken advocate for miners, found dead in a "Faunus terrorist breach." He'd been told that precursors to the White Fang had done it. They'd kept killing people in the SDC, after all. What was one more?

Yet... The look in Fafnir's eyes...

"You were there," he whispered, "That night."

"I was ordered to let it happen." Fafnir's voice was flat, but the weight behind it crushed the air. "Jacques feared Warden's influence. His voice for the workers. I… arranged the breach. Ensured he died."

The confession hung like smoke.

Whitley stared, throat tight.

"You murdered him," he managed, a low whisper.

"I failed to save him," Fafnir corrected, the distinction raw. "On purpose. Warden was a proud warrior. Strong. Honorable in his way. He saw what Jacques was becoming. I respected him. And I killed him anyway."

Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Whitley's hands trembled in his lap. "Then why help me now? Why risk everything to expose the man you killed for? Why...?"

Fafnir stepped closer, towering but not threatening.

"Because you have his determination. Warden's fire, buried under manners and fear. You see the rot. You're willing to cut it out." He shook his head. "You live behind masks, but unlike your sisters, you made it into a weapon. I owe him too much to act directly... But you want to make things... Better. So I try to restore my honor, through your desire for justice."

Whitley's eyes burned—anger, grief, something perilously close to gratitude. He lowered his eyes to hide it.

"No one else sees that in me," he whispered. "Not Mother. Not Winter. Not Weiss. They look at me and see Father's shadow. His puppet."

Fafnir's claw rested—gentle despite the metal—on Whitley's shoulder.

"They're wrong. But you'll have to face them someday. So... prove it."

Whitley looked up, voice cracking. He got himself under control, but only just.

"Thank you. At least… at least you see me. Unlike my sisters."

Fafnir's masked face was unreadable, but his tone carried old, weary certainty.

"Strength isn't just in blades or glyphs, boy. It's in choosing when to strike. You're choosing now. That's the beginning."

He turned back to the terminal, pulling up another encrypted file.

"We have work left to do."

Whitley exhaled shakily, wiping his eyes once—quick, angry—before turning back to the screen.

- - -

Another bit with Fafnir and his relationship with the Schnees. Maybe a bit too emotional, but I wanted to get across that just as Klein was a father figure to Winter and Weiss, Fafnir too had a paternal relationship, of sorts, with Whitley.