AndrewJTalon
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I have two drafts of babies being born and got confused between them. I realized my mistake and edited it up.
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[RWBY] The Great Temporal Step-Sibling War!
- Thread starter AndrewJTalon
- Start date
I have two drafts of babies being born and got confused between them. I realized my mistake and edited it up.
Stormfury
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Dang, was hoping it was worlds/timelines colliding shenanigans going on
Pyrrha's Date, Part 2
AndrewJTalon
Experienced.
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Khalisah Bint of the Easternwind News looked up and down the street festival while occasionally taking pictures with her camera. They were all good shots the travel section would love, but that fluff wasn't the reason she had endured the long airship flight from Mistral to Vale. The fluff was more of a way to kill time as she contemplated how to gain access to her true objective: Pyrrha Nikos. The Invincible Girl was here in Vale and there were hard questions that the champion needed to answer.
And so the Easternwind News sent Bint, because Bint was willing to ask questions that other reporters were afraid to broach. As she continued taking photos a reminiscing smirk grew on her face as she remembered the look on the Invincible Girl's face as when she had landed interviews with Pyrrha in the past.
"So what do you think of Atlas?" Bint had asked Pyrrha at the announcement of her latest brand deal involving a clothing company based in the northern kingdom.
"It's a great place to visit," The redhead replied with a smile. "The weather's really pleasant in the middle of summer."
"And what do you think of Argus partnering with Atlas when the rest of the Hellenic cities go with Vale for their foreign investment? Doesn't that smack of the kind of division that Mistral has used to keep the Hellenic League subservient to the Dragon Throne?"
"Uh," Pyrrha's smile became brittle while her eyes looked like a deer's in headlights. "Well, I'm not a politician, or an economist, so I don't have any strong opinions on that matter."
"But you just pioneered a fantastic brand deal, and that does require a good head for economics," Bint objected. "So surely you have something to say about Argus growing apart from the rest of the League as it grows closer to Atlas? Is sacrificing the ancient ties of brotherhood worth the increased GDP?"
"Ahh…" Pyrrha squirmed while looking towards her mother who was distracted via an interview with a different reporter a few yards away. The redhead deflated a bit with the realization that there would be no easy exit from this grilling.
Bint chuckled as she remembered how The Invincible Girl didn't seem to live up to her name as she tried and failed to bumble her way through a politically neutral response. And that wasn't the only time Bint had managed to catch the redhead off guard…
Making the rich and powerful squirm with just one or two well placed questions like that was always exhilarating. In many ways the opportunity to do so was the whole reason Bint had become a reporter.
And now she had the chance to make the so-called Invincible Girl squirm again. The young champion had a secret engagement, which opened the door to many questions that would undoubtedly make Pyrrha very uncomfortable. For instance Bint could ask her about how she could betray her fans like that? Pretending to be single only to break the hearts of so many of them! How callous of her!
Bint continued to formulate questions for her potential interview as she kept moving through the festival grounds, while also contemplating how she would gain access to Pyrrha to conduct said interview. If the Invincible Girl refused to talk to the press to avoid hard questions Beacon might honor her request, which meant Bint might need to resort to more underhanded means to…
…Or Pyrrha could be across the way from her right now at this very moment, exiting a diner with the man she was engaged to on her arm.
What luck.
What Luck!
A wide grin split across Bint's face as she moved through the crowd to get a better angle. The plan for now was simple: take a few photos and then casually approach at the right moment where she could catch the champion within the web of societal convention, making it impossible for Pyrrha to refuse the interview without an embarrassing loss of face.
Bint raised her camera once she had the right angle and-
Her camera was pulled out of her hands by an unseen force. Squawking in surprise, Bint tried to catch it and then chased after the expensive piece of equipment as it bounced and rolled along the ground away from her target…
- - -
Xander watched as his parents left the Just Right Bakery & Café with smiles on their faces. It was a relief to see that things were going well so far, especially since he had only just arrived to keep watch. Personally Xander had wanted to keep an eye on the whole production, but convincing his grandfather that he should be allowed to do so was… challenging.
"Look, I'm just saying Theodor and August were able to keep tabs on their moms' dates with dad, so I'd only be fair if the rest of us also have the opportunity to do so," The redhead reasoned.
"It would be fair," His grandfather allowed.
"So can I go now?"
"If you can escape, you can go," The elder Arc grinned before charging with an ancient warcry…
That might have been the third or fourth most difficult thing he had ever done. But he had done it, and he was here now. He just needed to keep a watchful eye out to make sure nothing interfered with his parent's time together…
…And almost straight away he saw a potential bit of interference in the form of Khalisah Bint, a reporter from the Mistrali sub-kingdom of Rostram that had beef with his family. Xander wasn't sure when the beef had started, all he knew was that his father and mother had ended every interview with Bint by punching the woman out and that her dentist sent them a gift basket every New Years.
At the moment Bint was scanning the crowd with an expensive camera in her hands, clearly looking to take candid photos of something or more worryingly someone. Then she saw his parents and started grinning like a shark as she began to make her way through the crowd to get a better angle on them.
That was something Xander wasn't about to allow.
He reached out with his variant of Polarity and seized upon the metals in Bint's camera, tugging it out of her hands and sending it bouncing across the ground in a deliberately calculated route. Bint of course chased after the camera in panicked alarm failing to notice that it was leading her to the volunteer line of a Dunk Tank game.
A Dunk Tank game he had observed long enough to know that the people working it were recent immigrants still learning to speak proper Vytalian and didn't speak any of the other languages he knew Bint could, making it theoretically possible to trick them into thinking that Bint was volunteering to get dunked.
Xander approached to make sure that happened…
- - -
The first game Jaune and Pyrrha stepped up to play was good old Whomp-a-Mouldiwarp, one of the oldest arcade machines devised and put into a carnival. There was a screen that tracked one's score and a waist level playing area with several circular holes that small plastic and cartoonish Mouldiwarps would pop out of. Players were given mallets to bonk the Mouldiwarps with, scoring points as they sent the molelike Grimm back into their holes.
Jaune paid for the game before picking out a pair of round mallets for himself and Pyrrha. He handed Pyrrha her mallet and readied himself for the game to start.
The first Mouldiwarp popped out. Jaune delivered a mighty whack.
The second popped out. Pyrrha landed a precision blow.
The Whomp-a-Mouldiwarp machine kicked into high gear and the two of them fell into a rhythm. Whacks, thwacks, and smacks filled the air as the two partners moved in near perfect harmony, pushing the machine to its limits as they slowly pushed it to its highest speed. Ten minutes later they had beaten the old high score and five minutes after that they had finally slipped up enough times to get a game over.
Laughing, they collected their prize tickets and then used those tickets to purchase a funnel cake and a pair of sodas from a nearby concessions stand. Pyrrha fed bits of the funnel cake to Jaune, and so Jaune fed bits of the funnel cake to her. It didn't take long for the dessert to disappear between them and they were soon looking about for the next attraction.
A Hook-a-Duck booth caught their eyes. It was a simple enough game on its face: a flock of seemingly identical rubber ducks with little hooks on their heads floated in the current of a circular trough, and players were given little fishing rods with hoops on the end they could use to fish the rubber ducks out of the water. Each rubber ducky had a number on the bottom that would tell the man running the stall if the players had won a prize or not. With the sheer number of rubber duckies the odds of a player winning a big prize through the right combination of winning numbers was slim, especially since the standard price to play only let you hook three ducks a round, but the basic challenge was interesting enough to make it worth it for some people.
Pyrrha paid for the game this time and the two of them were moving their fishing rods around the circular trough in short order. Pyrrha hooked all of her duckies first, as she may or may not have subtly used Polarity to guide her hoop to the hooks. Jaune took twice as long to hook all of his ducks, yet he managed to land a trio of numbers that earned a small prize while Pyrrha's numbers didn't win her anything.
For his prize Jaune picked out a pair of plastic bracelets of a green shade that complimented his partner's eyes. Pyrrha grinned widely as he slipped them onto her wrists, and wanting to see that grin again Jaune scanned the other game stalls for a prize worthy of his redheaded date.
He did a double take at the prizes of a shooting gallery, "Pyrrha, I think that grand prize is supposed to be you."
"Hmm?" Pyrrha turned and looked at what he was pointing towards, and her train of thought came to a halt to process what she was seeing. As the train of thought started up again she observed; "...Well, that isn't a licenced use of my likeness."
The unlicensed likeness was a large plushy of Pyrrha in her normal arena attire. However, unlike most plushies of people it wasn't chibified in any way, shape or form. No, the plushy had mostly realistic human proportions that caused it to tower over the other plushies in its weight class, with a serenely placid expression that contrasted the cutesy expressions the chibi plushes bore.
"I'm going to win it for you," Jaune declared with confidence as he approached the shooting gallery. Pyrrha followed him to the booth's counter with a smile on her face and a fond shake of her head.
Jaune paid for a go and the carny handed him a pneumatic pellet rifle before starting up the machinery of the gallery. Jaune took a centering breath, shouldered the rifle, and got to work.
Pyrrha found herself raising an impressed eyebrow as Jaune sent his shots down range. Every target that popped up, slid along the tracks or dropped from the roof was hit. Most of his shots weren't bullseyes and any professional shooting judge would be shaking their head, but they were all sufficient to knock the targets down and score a point in this simple carnival game. A few minutes later Jaune had downed every available target and the carny was obligated to give him a prize.
Jaune pointed to the off-brand Pyrrha plushy and as the carny moved to collect it Pyrrha turned to Jaune.
"That was some good shooting," She congratulated her partner. "With just a touch of practice I think you could get to a professional level. Where'd you learn to shoot?"
"Oh, you know, around the farm," Jaune provided with a somewhat embarrassed shrug. "Everyone was expected to lend a hand every now and then and when I was sick I could still sit in a watchtower with a rifle and pop anything coming after the ducks and chickens that the cats and dogs couldn't chase off."
Pyrrha could picture the scene in her head, the image of Jaune keeping a watchful vigil over his family's lands tickled her imagination. Still, that raised the question; "So why didn't you bring a gun with you to Beacon?"
"Well, practically speaking it was easier to steal the family sword and shield without anyone noticing. On top of that a sword can't run out of bullets and with less moving parts it seemed easier to maintain while I traveled," Jaune explained. He then rubbed the back of his neck as he went on, "On top of that… I wanted to be a knight like most of the heroes in my family's history, and being a gunslinger on top of that didn't really mesh with the image I was aspiring to in my head."
"I see," Pyrrha allowed, then asked; "So why didn't you pick up a gun once you arrived at Beacon? It would have been an easy enough way to raise your combat scores right off the bat."
"Well, I could make excuses about the hassle of switching between weapons in a fight, or how adding a gun to my kit would have distracted me from getting better with a sword," Jaune elaborated in an embarrassed tone, "But those are just excuses. The real reason is that I didn't think about it, and the reason I didn't think about it was because I didn't want to think about it; I had already committed myself to being a knight and I'm just being stubborn about it."
"Maybe you were being stubborn, but that's the kind of stubbornness that brought you into my life," Pyrrha's fond smile put Jaune at ease. "I like it."
"Alright, I have your prize right here," The carny arrived back at the counter with the Pyrrha plushy and held it out to Jaune before blinking in surprise. The carny looked at Pyrrha, looked at the plushy, looked back to Pyrrha, handed the plushy to Jaune while their jaws worked up and down and no words came out.
"Here you go Pyrrha," Jaune gave the plushy to his partner which the redhead accepted with a demure giggle.
That giggle broke the carny out of whatever spiral they were going through long enough for them to squeak out; "Can I take your picture?"
Pyrrha and Jaune looked to the carny with inquisitive gazes, and the carny felt the need to justify their request.
"Sorry, it's just my sister makes those and she'd never believe me that you showed up and got one without a picture and she'd never let me live it down or…"
"It's alright," Pyrrha reassured the carny before they ran out of breath. "You can take a photo of us." As the carny pulled out their scroll and snapped a photo Pyrrha looked at the other prizes on display and asked, "What else did your sister make?"
"Oh, well there are a few more plushies she made besides you…" The carny pushed a few prizes to the side giving Pyrrha a glimpse of more plushies that defied the chibi standard and would look just right next to the prize Jaune had won her.
"Jaune, I'm winning that white knight for you," Pyrrha announced as she slapped some money on the counter, and the carny rushed to reset the mechanisms of the shooting gallery…
And so the Easternwind News sent Bint, because Bint was willing to ask questions that other reporters were afraid to broach. As she continued taking photos a reminiscing smirk grew on her face as she remembered the look on the Invincible Girl's face as when she had landed interviews with Pyrrha in the past.
"So what do you think of Atlas?" Bint had asked Pyrrha at the announcement of her latest brand deal involving a clothing company based in the northern kingdom.
"It's a great place to visit," The redhead replied with a smile. "The weather's really pleasant in the middle of summer."
"And what do you think of Argus partnering with Atlas when the rest of the Hellenic cities go with Vale for their foreign investment? Doesn't that smack of the kind of division that Mistral has used to keep the Hellenic League subservient to the Dragon Throne?"
"Uh," Pyrrha's smile became brittle while her eyes looked like a deer's in headlights. "Well, I'm not a politician, or an economist, so I don't have any strong opinions on that matter."
"But you just pioneered a fantastic brand deal, and that does require a good head for economics," Bint objected. "So surely you have something to say about Argus growing apart from the rest of the League as it grows closer to Atlas? Is sacrificing the ancient ties of brotherhood worth the increased GDP?"
"Ahh…" Pyrrha squirmed while looking towards her mother who was distracted via an interview with a different reporter a few yards away. The redhead deflated a bit with the realization that there would be no easy exit from this grilling.
Bint chuckled as she remembered how The Invincible Girl didn't seem to live up to her name as she tried and failed to bumble her way through a politically neutral response. And that wasn't the only time Bint had managed to catch the redhead off guard…
Making the rich and powerful squirm with just one or two well placed questions like that was always exhilarating. In many ways the opportunity to do so was the whole reason Bint had become a reporter.
And now she had the chance to make the so-called Invincible Girl squirm again. The young champion had a secret engagement, which opened the door to many questions that would undoubtedly make Pyrrha very uncomfortable. For instance Bint could ask her about how she could betray her fans like that? Pretending to be single only to break the hearts of so many of them! How callous of her!
Bint continued to formulate questions for her potential interview as she kept moving through the festival grounds, while also contemplating how she would gain access to Pyrrha to conduct said interview. If the Invincible Girl refused to talk to the press to avoid hard questions Beacon might honor her request, which meant Bint might need to resort to more underhanded means to…
…Or Pyrrha could be across the way from her right now at this very moment, exiting a diner with the man she was engaged to on her arm.
What luck.
What Luck!
A wide grin split across Bint's face as she moved through the crowd to get a better angle. The plan for now was simple: take a few photos and then casually approach at the right moment where she could catch the champion within the web of societal convention, making it impossible for Pyrrha to refuse the interview without an embarrassing loss of face.
Bint raised her camera once she had the right angle and-
Her camera was pulled out of her hands by an unseen force. Squawking in surprise, Bint tried to catch it and then chased after the expensive piece of equipment as it bounced and rolled along the ground away from her target…
- - -
Xander watched as his parents left the Just Right Bakery & Café with smiles on their faces. It was a relief to see that things were going well so far, especially since he had only just arrived to keep watch. Personally Xander had wanted to keep an eye on the whole production, but convincing his grandfather that he should be allowed to do so was… challenging.
"Look, I'm just saying Theodor and August were able to keep tabs on their moms' dates with dad, so I'd only be fair if the rest of us also have the opportunity to do so," The redhead reasoned.
"It would be fair," His grandfather allowed.
"So can I go now?"
"If you can escape, you can go," The elder Arc grinned before charging with an ancient warcry…
That might have been the third or fourth most difficult thing he had ever done. But he had done it, and he was here now. He just needed to keep a watchful eye out to make sure nothing interfered with his parent's time together…
…And almost straight away he saw a potential bit of interference in the form of Khalisah Bint, a reporter from the Mistrali sub-kingdom of Rostram that had beef with his family. Xander wasn't sure when the beef had started, all he knew was that his father and mother had ended every interview with Bint by punching the woman out and that her dentist sent them a gift basket every New Years.
At the moment Bint was scanning the crowd with an expensive camera in her hands, clearly looking to take candid photos of something or more worryingly someone. Then she saw his parents and started grinning like a shark as she began to make her way through the crowd to get a better angle on them.
That was something Xander wasn't about to allow.
He reached out with his variant of Polarity and seized upon the metals in Bint's camera, tugging it out of her hands and sending it bouncing across the ground in a deliberately calculated route. Bint of course chased after the camera in panicked alarm failing to notice that it was leading her to the volunteer line of a Dunk Tank game.
A Dunk Tank game he had observed long enough to know that the people working it were recent immigrants still learning to speak proper Vytalian and didn't speak any of the other languages he knew Bint could, making it theoretically possible to trick them into thinking that Bint was volunteering to get dunked.
Xander approached to make sure that happened…
- - -
The first game Jaune and Pyrrha stepped up to play was good old Whomp-a-Mouldiwarp, one of the oldest arcade machines devised and put into a carnival. There was a screen that tracked one's score and a waist level playing area with several circular holes that small plastic and cartoonish Mouldiwarps would pop out of. Players were given mallets to bonk the Mouldiwarps with, scoring points as they sent the molelike Grimm back into their holes.
Jaune paid for the game before picking out a pair of round mallets for himself and Pyrrha. He handed Pyrrha her mallet and readied himself for the game to start.
The first Mouldiwarp popped out. Jaune delivered a mighty whack.
The second popped out. Pyrrha landed a precision blow.
The Whomp-a-Mouldiwarp machine kicked into high gear and the two of them fell into a rhythm. Whacks, thwacks, and smacks filled the air as the two partners moved in near perfect harmony, pushing the machine to its limits as they slowly pushed it to its highest speed. Ten minutes later they had beaten the old high score and five minutes after that they had finally slipped up enough times to get a game over.
Laughing, they collected their prize tickets and then used those tickets to purchase a funnel cake and a pair of sodas from a nearby concessions stand. Pyrrha fed bits of the funnel cake to Jaune, and so Jaune fed bits of the funnel cake to her. It didn't take long for the dessert to disappear between them and they were soon looking about for the next attraction.
A Hook-a-Duck booth caught their eyes. It was a simple enough game on its face: a flock of seemingly identical rubber ducks with little hooks on their heads floated in the current of a circular trough, and players were given little fishing rods with hoops on the end they could use to fish the rubber ducks out of the water. Each rubber ducky had a number on the bottom that would tell the man running the stall if the players had won a prize or not. With the sheer number of rubber duckies the odds of a player winning a big prize through the right combination of winning numbers was slim, especially since the standard price to play only let you hook three ducks a round, but the basic challenge was interesting enough to make it worth it for some people.
Pyrrha paid for the game this time and the two of them were moving their fishing rods around the circular trough in short order. Pyrrha hooked all of her duckies first, as she may or may not have subtly used Polarity to guide her hoop to the hooks. Jaune took twice as long to hook all of his ducks, yet he managed to land a trio of numbers that earned a small prize while Pyrrha's numbers didn't win her anything.
For his prize Jaune picked out a pair of plastic bracelets of a green shade that complimented his partner's eyes. Pyrrha grinned widely as he slipped them onto her wrists, and wanting to see that grin again Jaune scanned the other game stalls for a prize worthy of his redheaded date.
He did a double take at the prizes of a shooting gallery, "Pyrrha, I think that grand prize is supposed to be you."
"Hmm?" Pyrrha turned and looked at what he was pointing towards, and her train of thought came to a halt to process what she was seeing. As the train of thought started up again she observed; "...Well, that isn't a licenced use of my likeness."
The unlicensed likeness was a large plushy of Pyrrha in her normal arena attire. However, unlike most plushies of people it wasn't chibified in any way, shape or form. No, the plushy had mostly realistic human proportions that caused it to tower over the other plushies in its weight class, with a serenely placid expression that contrasted the cutesy expressions the chibi plushes bore.
"I'm going to win it for you," Jaune declared with confidence as he approached the shooting gallery. Pyrrha followed him to the booth's counter with a smile on her face and a fond shake of her head.
Jaune paid for a go and the carny handed him a pneumatic pellet rifle before starting up the machinery of the gallery. Jaune took a centering breath, shouldered the rifle, and got to work.
Pyrrha found herself raising an impressed eyebrow as Jaune sent his shots down range. Every target that popped up, slid along the tracks or dropped from the roof was hit. Most of his shots weren't bullseyes and any professional shooting judge would be shaking their head, but they were all sufficient to knock the targets down and score a point in this simple carnival game. A few minutes later Jaune had downed every available target and the carny was obligated to give him a prize.
Jaune pointed to the off-brand Pyrrha plushy and as the carny moved to collect it Pyrrha turned to Jaune.
"That was some good shooting," She congratulated her partner. "With just a touch of practice I think you could get to a professional level. Where'd you learn to shoot?"
"Oh, you know, around the farm," Jaune provided with a somewhat embarrassed shrug. "Everyone was expected to lend a hand every now and then and when I was sick I could still sit in a watchtower with a rifle and pop anything coming after the ducks and chickens that the cats and dogs couldn't chase off."
Pyrrha could picture the scene in her head, the image of Jaune keeping a watchful vigil over his family's lands tickled her imagination. Still, that raised the question; "So why didn't you bring a gun with you to Beacon?"
"Well, practically speaking it was easier to steal the family sword and shield without anyone noticing. On top of that a sword can't run out of bullets and with less moving parts it seemed easier to maintain while I traveled," Jaune explained. He then rubbed the back of his neck as he went on, "On top of that… I wanted to be a knight like most of the heroes in my family's history, and being a gunslinger on top of that didn't really mesh with the image I was aspiring to in my head."
"I see," Pyrrha allowed, then asked; "So why didn't you pick up a gun once you arrived at Beacon? It would have been an easy enough way to raise your combat scores right off the bat."
"Well, I could make excuses about the hassle of switching between weapons in a fight, or how adding a gun to my kit would have distracted me from getting better with a sword," Jaune elaborated in an embarrassed tone, "But those are just excuses. The real reason is that I didn't think about it, and the reason I didn't think about it was because I didn't want to think about it; I had already committed myself to being a knight and I'm just being stubborn about it."
"Maybe you were being stubborn, but that's the kind of stubbornness that brought you into my life," Pyrrha's fond smile put Jaune at ease. "I like it."
"Alright, I have your prize right here," The carny arrived back at the counter with the Pyrrha plushy and held it out to Jaune before blinking in surprise. The carny looked at Pyrrha, looked at the plushy, looked back to Pyrrha, handed the plushy to Jaune while their jaws worked up and down and no words came out.
"Here you go Pyrrha," Jaune gave the plushy to his partner which the redhead accepted with a demure giggle.
That giggle broke the carny out of whatever spiral they were going through long enough for them to squeak out; "Can I take your picture?"
Pyrrha and Jaune looked to the carny with inquisitive gazes, and the carny felt the need to justify their request.
"Sorry, it's just my sister makes those and she'd never believe me that you showed up and got one without a picture and she'd never let me live it down or…"
"It's alright," Pyrrha reassured the carny before they ran out of breath. "You can take a photo of us." As the carny pulled out their scroll and snapped a photo Pyrrha looked at the other prizes on display and asked, "What else did your sister make?"
"Oh, well there are a few more plushies she made besides you…" The carny pushed a few prizes to the side giving Pyrrha a glimpse of more plushies that defied the chibi standard and would look just right next to the prize Jaune had won her.
"Jaune, I'm winning that white knight for you," Pyrrha announced as she slapped some money on the counter, and the carny rushed to reset the mechanisms of the shooting gallery…
Glimpses Into Another Time: Arslan: The Birth
AndrewJTalon
Experienced.
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Arc Farm House, Radian, Gallia
Six years after Salem's defeat
- - -
Jaune was flitting about the living room, packing and unpacking supplies into suitcases scattered about the floor and furniture. He checked and unchecked check lists. His eyes were wide, despite the bags under his eyes.
"Okay! Okay, we'll bring this set of clothes-No, that set! No, that doesn't go with the baby's eyes-We don't know what color the baby's eyes are yet!"
Arslan sat on the couch, nine months pregnant, deep in meditation and prayer. She opened up one eye.
"Darling, this panic is unproductive," she said calmly. Jaune stopped in front of her.
"But we have to get everything ready! You're going to give birth any day now!"
Arslan nodded.
"I am. There's no use worrying about it," she pointed out.
"Of course I'm going to worry!" Jaune insisted. "Why wouldn't I worry?! I should worry! It's what husbands do!"
Arslan winced. Jaune dropped to his knees next to her, holding her tightly.
"What?! What is it?! Water breaking?"
"No, she merely kicked," Arslan said. "She's becoming more active." Jaune pulled away... Then Arslan grabbed his head and pulled him against her stomach. "Now listen and sense her. Focus on her Aura. Focus on my Aura."
"Arslan-"
"Do it," Arslan commanded, still calm but with a decided edge to it. Jaune sucked in a deep breath and nodded. He rested his head against her stomach. He closed his eyes.
He could feel their daughter kicking and squirming. He could feel the strength of her Aura, like a small star shining in the night. He could feel his wife's Aura thrumming against his, warm, calm. His shoulders sagged a bit, and he sighed. He looked up into her eyes and smiled.
"Sorry," he whispered, resting a hand on her belly. Arslan smiled back, rubbing the top of his head.
"Don't be. This is not something to worry yourself ov-"
She paused and winced. Her Aura fluctuated. She grit her teeth. Jaune was back on his feet, hands on her shoulders.
"Arslan?! What is it?"
"I... Oh dear..."
He smelled moisture. Saw liquid drip from beneath her onto the floor. His eyes widened.
"Did your water just-?!"
"Yes."
"Contractions?!"
"Very close together," Arslan managed, still sounding calm despite her clenched teeth. "I believe it's time..."
Jaune rushed to the Scroll. He called the hospital.
"Mom! Mom the baby's coming!"
He called Ruby.
"RUBY! THE BABY'S COMING! GET EVERYONE HERE!"
He called his sisters.
"BABY'S COMING! GET HERE NOW!"
He grabbed the overnight bag and the other supplies, and dashed out the door. He tossed it all into the back of the pickup truck, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. He started the truck, taking deep breaths.
"It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay...!"
He put it in gear, headed towards the driveway... His Scroll rang. He saw the caller ID: Arslan-Wifey.
He looked over at the passenger seat. Entirely empty. He slammed on the brakes, put it into park, and dashed out the door. Arslan was already hobbling to the front door, holding her Scroll, when he burst back into the farmhouse. She raised an eyebrow.
"Forget something?"
Jaune picked her up, carried her out, put her into the passenger seat, buckled her in, shut the door, and rushed around to the driver's side. He slid in, all smiles.
"Sorry! W-We're good! We're good! Everything's going to be great!"
"Yes it will," Arslan said, squeezing his hand.
They made it to the hospital, Isabel and a few nurses already waiting with a wheelchair. Jaune put Arslan into it, and stayed by her side as they entered, Isabel marching on the other side.
"Time between contractions?"
"A few seconds," Arslan managed.
"Rate your pain level?"
"7," Arslan blandly said.
"That's a 10 to anyone else," Jaune added helpfully.
"All right," Isabel recorded it on her Scroll, "I'll have the appropriate Healing Dust and sedatives ready. Anything else?"
"Sedatives for Jaune," Arslan said wryly, "He's going to need them."
"I DO NOT-Okay maybe one!"
Six years after Salem's defeat
- - -
Jaune was flitting about the living room, packing and unpacking supplies into suitcases scattered about the floor and furniture. He checked and unchecked check lists. His eyes were wide, despite the bags under his eyes.
"Okay! Okay, we'll bring this set of clothes-No, that set! No, that doesn't go with the baby's eyes-We don't know what color the baby's eyes are yet!"
Arslan sat on the couch, nine months pregnant, deep in meditation and prayer. She opened up one eye.
"Darling, this panic is unproductive," she said calmly. Jaune stopped in front of her.
"But we have to get everything ready! You're going to give birth any day now!"
Arslan nodded.
"I am. There's no use worrying about it," she pointed out.
"Of course I'm going to worry!" Jaune insisted. "Why wouldn't I worry?! I should worry! It's what husbands do!"
Arslan winced. Jaune dropped to his knees next to her, holding her tightly.
"What?! What is it?! Water breaking?"
"No, she merely kicked," Arslan said. "She's becoming more active." Jaune pulled away... Then Arslan grabbed his head and pulled him against her stomach. "Now listen and sense her. Focus on her Aura. Focus on my Aura."
"Arslan-"
"Do it," Arslan commanded, still calm but with a decided edge to it. Jaune sucked in a deep breath and nodded. He rested his head against her stomach. He closed his eyes.
He could feel their daughter kicking and squirming. He could feel the strength of her Aura, like a small star shining in the night. He could feel his wife's Aura thrumming against his, warm, calm. His shoulders sagged a bit, and he sighed. He looked up into her eyes and smiled.
"Sorry," he whispered, resting a hand on her belly. Arslan smiled back, rubbing the top of his head.
"Don't be. This is not something to worry yourself ov-"
She paused and winced. Her Aura fluctuated. She grit her teeth. Jaune was back on his feet, hands on her shoulders.
"Arslan?! What is it?"
"I... Oh dear..."
He smelled moisture. Saw liquid drip from beneath her onto the floor. His eyes widened.
"Did your water just-?!"
"Yes."
"Contractions?!"
"Very close together," Arslan managed, still sounding calm despite her clenched teeth. "I believe it's time..."
Jaune rushed to the Scroll. He called the hospital.
"Mom! Mom the baby's coming!"
He called Ruby.
"RUBY! THE BABY'S COMING! GET EVERYONE HERE!"
He called his sisters.
"BABY'S COMING! GET HERE NOW!"
He grabbed the overnight bag and the other supplies, and dashed out the door. He tossed it all into the back of the pickup truck, opened the door, and slid into the driver's seat. He started the truck, taking deep breaths.
"It's gonna be okay, it's gonna be okay...!"
He put it in gear, headed towards the driveway... His Scroll rang. He saw the caller ID: Arslan-Wifey.
He looked over at the passenger seat. Entirely empty. He slammed on the brakes, put it into park, and dashed out the door. Arslan was already hobbling to the front door, holding her Scroll, when he burst back into the farmhouse. She raised an eyebrow.
"Forget something?"
Jaune picked her up, carried her out, put her into the passenger seat, buckled her in, shut the door, and rushed around to the driver's side. He slid in, all smiles.
"Sorry! W-We're good! We're good! Everything's going to be great!"
"Yes it will," Arslan said, squeezing his hand.
They made it to the hospital, Isabel and a few nurses already waiting with a wheelchair. Jaune put Arslan into it, and stayed by her side as they entered, Isabel marching on the other side.
"Time between contractions?"
"A few seconds," Arslan managed.
"Rate your pain level?"
"7," Arslan blandly said.
"That's a 10 to anyone else," Jaune added helpfully.
"All right," Isabel recorded it on her Scroll, "I'll have the appropriate Healing Dust and sedatives ready. Anything else?"
"Sedatives for Jaune," Arslan said wryly, "He's going to need them."
"I DO NOT-Okay maybe one!"
Glimpses Into Another Time: Blake: "Family"
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AndrewJTalon
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Blake Timeline: "Family"
Menagerie Hospital, Kuo Kuana, Menagerie
Three years after Salem's defeat
- - -
The waiting room smelled of clean linen and faint sea air drifting through an open window. Blake paced on the clean white linoleum in tight circles, black ears twitching at every distant sound from the hallway. Jaune sat nearby, watching her with quiet concern, while Nick lounged in a too-small chair with a children's book in his massive hands.
Blake wrung her hands. "She's strong, but at her age… What if something goes wrong? What if—?"
Jaune reached out and caught her wrist, pulling her gently into the seat beside him. "Hey. Don't worry. My mom is the best doctor in the world. She's got this."
Nick nodded firmly, not looking up from the book. "Izzy's the best there is. I'm confident it'll all be fine." He squinted at the page, frowning. "Damnit… Where's Waldorf? They always hide him so well in these things."
Jaune silently leaned over and pointed at the tiny figure half-hidden behind a tree. Nick blinked, then let out a booming chuckle.
"Thanks, son! My eyes aren't what they used to be."
Jaune smiled. "It's cool, Dad."
Blake tried to smile back, but the guilt kept crashing over her like waves. All the years she'd run away, all the pain she'd caused her parents, the worry she'd put them through… Now her mother was in labor, and Blake couldn't stop the spiral. What if she dies in childbirth? What if the baby doesn't make it? What if this is somehow my fault too-?
Jaune felt her tense and wrapped both arms around her tightly, pulling her against his chest. Nick set the book aside and crouched down in front of her, his big frame surprisingly gentle as he looked her straight in the eyes.
"Didn't my son break you out of that habit of blaming yourself for everything that could possibly go wrong?" Nick said, voice warm but firm. "It will be fine. And if it doesn't go fine-not saying it won't, but just in case-we'll all be together. Because we're family."
Jaune pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah… You're stuck with us."
Blake flushed, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Oh… Oh…"
The double doors swung open. Isabel Arc stepped through, still in her scrubs but wearing a broad, triumphant grin.
"Come on back!"
The three of them followed her quickly down the hall and into the delivery room. Kali Belladonna lay in the bed, exhausted but radiant, smiling down at the small bundle in her arms. Ghira, the towering Panther Faunus and leader of Menagerie, sat beside her—openly sobbing with joy, one massive hand gently resting on his wife's shoulder.
Kali looked up, eyes shining. "Come in… Meet your baby brother, Blake. This is Felix."
Blake approached slowly, almost timidly, as if afraid she might frighten the newborn. Jaune nudged her forward with a gentle hand on her back. She reached out and carefully rested a finger under the baby's tiny chin. Felix grasped it immediately, his little black ears twitching as he let out a soft, sleepy coo.
Blake sniffled, a wide, tearful smile breaking across her face. "He's beautiful…"
Kali laughed softly, voice thick with emotion. "Y-Yes… yes he is…" She looked up at Isabel with overwhelming gratitude, too moved to speak. Isabel simply smiled back.
"No thanks needed… You're family now."
Jaune stepped closer, wrapping one arm around Blake's waist. "Yeah… We are." He reached out and gently rubbed the baby's soft ears. Felix hummed happily, eyes half-closed in contentment.
Blake watched Jaune smiling down at the newborn—gentle, protective, full of love—and felt something bloom warm and fierce in her chest. Her face turned bright red as a single, crystal-clear thought echoed through her mind:
I want one.
Menagerie Hospital, Kuo Kuana, Menagerie
Three years after Salem's defeat
- - -
The waiting room smelled of clean linen and faint sea air drifting through an open window. Blake paced on the clean white linoleum in tight circles, black ears twitching at every distant sound from the hallway. Jaune sat nearby, watching her with quiet concern, while Nick lounged in a too-small chair with a children's book in his massive hands.
Blake wrung her hands. "She's strong, but at her age… What if something goes wrong? What if—?"
Jaune reached out and caught her wrist, pulling her gently into the seat beside him. "Hey. Don't worry. My mom is the best doctor in the world. She's got this."
Nick nodded firmly, not looking up from the book. "Izzy's the best there is. I'm confident it'll all be fine." He squinted at the page, frowning. "Damnit… Where's Waldorf? They always hide him so well in these things."
Jaune silently leaned over and pointed at the tiny figure half-hidden behind a tree. Nick blinked, then let out a booming chuckle.
"Thanks, son! My eyes aren't what they used to be."
Jaune smiled. "It's cool, Dad."
Blake tried to smile back, but the guilt kept crashing over her like waves. All the years she'd run away, all the pain she'd caused her parents, the worry she'd put them through… Now her mother was in labor, and Blake couldn't stop the spiral. What if she dies in childbirth? What if the baby doesn't make it? What if this is somehow my fault too-?
Jaune felt her tense and wrapped both arms around her tightly, pulling her against his chest. Nick set the book aside and crouched down in front of her, his big frame surprisingly gentle as he looked her straight in the eyes.
"Didn't my son break you out of that habit of blaming yourself for everything that could possibly go wrong?" Nick said, voice warm but firm. "It will be fine. And if it doesn't go fine-not saying it won't, but just in case-we'll all be together. Because we're family."
Jaune pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah… You're stuck with us."
Blake flushed, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Oh… Oh…"
The double doors swung open. Isabel Arc stepped through, still in her scrubs but wearing a broad, triumphant grin.
"Come on back!"
The three of them followed her quickly down the hall and into the delivery room. Kali Belladonna lay in the bed, exhausted but radiant, smiling down at the small bundle in her arms. Ghira, the towering Panther Faunus and leader of Menagerie, sat beside her—openly sobbing with joy, one massive hand gently resting on his wife's shoulder.
Kali looked up, eyes shining. "Come in… Meet your baby brother, Blake. This is Felix."
Blake approached slowly, almost timidly, as if afraid she might frighten the newborn. Jaune nudged her forward with a gentle hand on her back. She reached out and carefully rested a finger under the baby's tiny chin. Felix grasped it immediately, his little black ears twitching as he let out a soft, sleepy coo.
Blake sniffled, a wide, tearful smile breaking across her face. "He's beautiful…"
Kali laughed softly, voice thick with emotion. "Y-Yes… yes he is…" She looked up at Isabel with overwhelming gratitude, too moved to speak. Isabel simply smiled back.
"No thanks needed… You're family now."
Jaune stepped closer, wrapping one arm around Blake's waist. "Yeah… We are." He reached out and gently rubbed the baby's soft ears. Felix hummed happily, eyes half-closed in contentment.
Blake watched Jaune smiling down at the newborn—gentle, protective, full of love—and felt something bloom warm and fierce in her chest. Her face turned bright red as a single, crystal-clear thought echoed through her mind:
I want one.
Glimpses Into Another Time: Pyrrha: The Escape
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AndrewJTalon
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Atlas, Solitas
One year, three months after Vytal Festival
- - -
Chaos had swallowed Atlas. General Jinjur Hardy, newly elevated Supreme Commander after James Ironwood's disgrace, had moved with ruthless efficiency.
For "national security reasons" after the attempted bombing of the winning candidate in the election, Hardy had slapped treason and terrorism charges on Team RWBY, JNPR and Qrow. Nora, Ren, and Qrow had gone to ground immediately—slipping into Mantle's underbelly with the help of old contacts and sheer stubbornness. The rest were scattered, hunted, or in hiding.
Pyrrha Nikos had paid the heaviest price in the immediate aftermath. During the desperate scramble at the election stage, she'd thrown herself between Cinder Fall and the detonation charges meant to turn the gathering into a slaughter. She'd stopped the worst of it… but not without cost. Deep burns scarred her left side, aura depletion left her weakened. She'd been in the hospital when they yanked her out and slapped an Aura suppression collar on her.
She sat slumped in the cold interrogation chair in the small, bare interrogation room at the local military base, a drab military coat draped over her thin hospital gown, red hair matted with sweat. Every breath pulled at the burns. General Hardy paced before her like a predator, riding crop snapping against her palm, her auburn hair waving like a flag behind her.
"Where are the others, Miss Nikos?" Hardy demanded again. "Rose. Belladonna. Xiao Long. Schnee. Valkyrie, Lie, and Branwen—they've all scurried into the shadows like the vermin they are. Tell me their locations and I might spare what's left of your little band."
Pyrrha lifted her head, emerald eyes defiant despite the pain. A faint, exhausted smile curved her lips.
"You're lying."
"I can be quite merciful," Hardy said, a small smile on her face, "When it suits me."
"Is that what Salem told you?" Pyrrha asked quietly. "What did she offer you?"
Hardy was silent. Pyrrha slowly nodded.
"Then you know about her... Serve her-"
Hardy slapped her riding crop on the table in between them. The older woman was fairly attractive, Pyrrha supposed... But the manic gleam in her eyes ruined the illusion she had maintained so long.
"You know nothing... But you'll cooperate if you know what's good for you," Hardy sneered. She tapped her Scroll. "Bring him!"
The door hissed open. Two burly military police dragged Jaune Arc inside. He was in full armor: Battered but alive. The aura suppression collar around his neck hummed ominously, his artificial eyes glowing a light blue. Bruises marred his face, but he carried himself with the same unyielding steadiness that had carried him through Beacon and beyond.
"Jaune!" Pyrrha gasped, straining against her cuffs.
"It's going to be okay, Pyrrha," he said calmly, voice steady as he oriented toward her by sound and residual aura sense. "We've survived worse."
Hardy's smile was thin and cruel. "How touching." She nodded to the guards. "Thank you, gentlemen."
"Sir," they replied... Before Hardy reached out, yanked away one of their guns, and opened fire. Both guards fell, gaping in shock as they died.
Jaune had thrown himself over Pyrrha, shielding her from the barrage as Pyrrha bowed and covered her head. When they both looked up,Hardy smirked. She tossed the empty machine gun onto the table before Jaune with a clatter.
"The official story writes itself," she said. "Dangerous criminal Jaune Arc murdered his escorts in a desperate bid for freedom, and was executed. You, Miss Nikos, will serve as the perfect bait to draw out the rest of your terrorist cell. Surrender is the only rational choice."
Jaune's fingers brushed the gun. "Why are you doing this?"
Hardy snorted. "Because someone has to do what's best for Atlas—for the world. If you won't serve, you'll die. Simple as that."
Jaune was silent for half a heartbeat. He nodded... Then he moved.
He kicked the table upward with explosive force. Even without his Aura, he was still very big and very strong. The table slammed into Hardy's chest, sending her staggering back with a grunt. Jaune surged forward, scooped Pyrrha up despite the cuffs, and bolted for the door.
"Run!"
- - -
Alarms screamed through the corridors. Boots thundered from every direction. Pyrrha stumbled, legs unsteady from her injuries and the suppression collar, but Jaune held her tight against his armored side, half-carrying her as they sprinted.
"Jaune—I'm slowing you down—!"
"You're fine," he cut her off fiercely, voice low and urgent between shots. "Just stay with me. I've got the slack."
Two soldiers rounded the corner, rifles raised. Jaune hurled a nearby chair with all his strength, smashing one into the other. He closed the distance in a blur of white armor, disarming them brutally. One rifle he kept; the second he tossed to Pyrrha. She caught it awkwardly, cuffs clinking, and fired a few suppressing bursts while leaning heavily on him.
They ran through a hail of bullets—sparks flying off Jaune's armor, Pyrrha's coat tearing as rounds grazed past. Jaune fired back one-handed, his shots guided by numerous lessons and raw instinct, while his free arm kept Pyrrha upright. They burst through a side door and tumbled from a low window into the sprawling vehicle yard below. Jaune twisted mid-fall, landing hard but cushioning her completely with his armored body.
"Are you all right?" Pyrrha asked, hands frantically checking him.
"I'll live," he grunted, staggering up. The collar and cuffs still hummed. Jeeps roared toward them, lights flashing, soldiers shouting.
Jaune's head turned, senses straining. A fierce grin split his face as he locked onto a hulking silhouette in the gloom. Pyrrha followed his gaze... And her eyes widened.
"Do… Do you have an idea?" Pyrrha asked, already suspecting.
"Yup!"
- - -
Outside the perimeter fence, General Hardy stood beside her command jeep. She scowled at the perimeter walls. All things considered, it was probably for the best things would look more chaotic. And she only needed one of them alive.
She barked into a radio. "All units, shoot to kill Arc! Don't hit Nikos! Do not let them—"
A thunderous crash split the night. The reinforced brick wall of the vehicle yard exploded outward as a massive T-88 Ragnarok tank smashed through like it was paper. Jaune stood tall in the open driver's hatch amid several bricks, armor battered, steering the beast with visible effort but wearing a large grin on his face.
Hardy's eyes bulged in disbelief. Her troops opened fire, but the rounds all bounced off the tank's armor or Jaune's.
She dove into her jeep. "Drive! DRIVE, DAMN YOU!"
Her driver yelped:
"But the soldiers-!"
"Use the bumper! THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR!"
The car drove through many Atlasian soldiers. Those unlucky not to dive out of the way got slammed clear by the jeep's bumper.
The tank roared after them, treads chewing through parked vehicles and pavement alike (though slow enough to allow the remaining Atlasian troops to get clear). Jaune plowed straight through a row of jeeps like a battering ram, sending them flying.
Inside the cabin, Pyrrha clutched the seat, holding on for dear life as the tank barreled onward. Gunfire pinged off the armor.
"I'm not sure if this is a good idea!" she yelled over the engine roar and chaos.
Jaune just grinned wider, cybernetic eyes glowing.
"Probably not! But I've always wanted to try it!"
Pyrrha stared at him—this ridiculous, wonderful, impossible man in his battered armor who had charged into hell for her more times than she could count—and felt laughter bubble up despite the pain, despite the pursuit, despite everything. She smiled in pure exasperation and deep affection, leaning into his armored side as the tank thundered on, chasing Hardy's fleeing jeep through the heart of Atlas.
The general's coup had just met its first real resistance—and it was loud, armored, and utterly unstoppable.
- - -
In this version of events, we have a duplicitous General Jinjur Hardy to be the bad guy who stages a coup of Atlas. Let's just say things go badly for her in the ensuing chaos. Plus, Jaune gets to drive a tank! So he's quite happy.
And yes this is obviously inspired by the James Bond movie "Goldeneye".
One year, three months after Vytal Festival
- - -
Chaos had swallowed Atlas. General Jinjur Hardy, newly elevated Supreme Commander after James Ironwood's disgrace, had moved with ruthless efficiency.
For "national security reasons" after the attempted bombing of the winning candidate in the election, Hardy had slapped treason and terrorism charges on Team RWBY, JNPR and Qrow. Nora, Ren, and Qrow had gone to ground immediately—slipping into Mantle's underbelly with the help of old contacts and sheer stubbornness. The rest were scattered, hunted, or in hiding.
Pyrrha Nikos had paid the heaviest price in the immediate aftermath. During the desperate scramble at the election stage, she'd thrown herself between Cinder Fall and the detonation charges meant to turn the gathering into a slaughter. She'd stopped the worst of it… but not without cost. Deep burns scarred her left side, aura depletion left her weakened. She'd been in the hospital when they yanked her out and slapped an Aura suppression collar on her.
She sat slumped in the cold interrogation chair in the small, bare interrogation room at the local military base, a drab military coat draped over her thin hospital gown, red hair matted with sweat. Every breath pulled at the burns. General Hardy paced before her like a predator, riding crop snapping against her palm, her auburn hair waving like a flag behind her.
"Where are the others, Miss Nikos?" Hardy demanded again. "Rose. Belladonna. Xiao Long. Schnee. Valkyrie, Lie, and Branwen—they've all scurried into the shadows like the vermin they are. Tell me their locations and I might spare what's left of your little band."
Pyrrha lifted her head, emerald eyes defiant despite the pain. A faint, exhausted smile curved her lips.
"You're lying."
"I can be quite merciful," Hardy said, a small smile on her face, "When it suits me."
"Is that what Salem told you?" Pyrrha asked quietly. "What did she offer you?"
Hardy was silent. Pyrrha slowly nodded.
"Then you know about her... Serve her-"
Hardy slapped her riding crop on the table in between them. The older woman was fairly attractive, Pyrrha supposed... But the manic gleam in her eyes ruined the illusion she had maintained so long.
"You know nothing... But you'll cooperate if you know what's good for you," Hardy sneered. She tapped her Scroll. "Bring him!"
The door hissed open. Two burly military police dragged Jaune Arc inside. He was in full armor: Battered but alive. The aura suppression collar around his neck hummed ominously, his artificial eyes glowing a light blue. Bruises marred his face, but he carried himself with the same unyielding steadiness that had carried him through Beacon and beyond.
"Jaune!" Pyrrha gasped, straining against her cuffs.
"It's going to be okay, Pyrrha," he said calmly, voice steady as he oriented toward her by sound and residual aura sense. "We've survived worse."
Hardy's smile was thin and cruel. "How touching." She nodded to the guards. "Thank you, gentlemen."
"Sir," they replied... Before Hardy reached out, yanked away one of their guns, and opened fire. Both guards fell, gaping in shock as they died.
Jaune had thrown himself over Pyrrha, shielding her from the barrage as Pyrrha bowed and covered her head. When they both looked up,Hardy smirked. She tossed the empty machine gun onto the table before Jaune with a clatter.
"The official story writes itself," she said. "Dangerous criminal Jaune Arc murdered his escorts in a desperate bid for freedom, and was executed. You, Miss Nikos, will serve as the perfect bait to draw out the rest of your terrorist cell. Surrender is the only rational choice."
Jaune's fingers brushed the gun. "Why are you doing this?"
Hardy snorted. "Because someone has to do what's best for Atlas—for the world. If you won't serve, you'll die. Simple as that."
Jaune was silent for half a heartbeat. He nodded... Then he moved.
He kicked the table upward with explosive force. Even without his Aura, he was still very big and very strong. The table slammed into Hardy's chest, sending her staggering back with a grunt. Jaune surged forward, scooped Pyrrha up despite the cuffs, and bolted for the door.
"Run!"
- - -
Alarms screamed through the corridors. Boots thundered from every direction. Pyrrha stumbled, legs unsteady from her injuries and the suppression collar, but Jaune held her tight against his armored side, half-carrying her as they sprinted.
"Jaune—I'm slowing you down—!"
"You're fine," he cut her off fiercely, voice low and urgent between shots. "Just stay with me. I've got the slack."
Two soldiers rounded the corner, rifles raised. Jaune hurled a nearby chair with all his strength, smashing one into the other. He closed the distance in a blur of white armor, disarming them brutally. One rifle he kept; the second he tossed to Pyrrha. She caught it awkwardly, cuffs clinking, and fired a few suppressing bursts while leaning heavily on him.
They ran through a hail of bullets—sparks flying off Jaune's armor, Pyrrha's coat tearing as rounds grazed past. Jaune fired back one-handed, his shots guided by numerous lessons and raw instinct, while his free arm kept Pyrrha upright. They burst through a side door and tumbled from a low window into the sprawling vehicle yard below. Jaune twisted mid-fall, landing hard but cushioning her completely with his armored body.
"Are you all right?" Pyrrha asked, hands frantically checking him.
"I'll live," he grunted, staggering up. The collar and cuffs still hummed. Jeeps roared toward them, lights flashing, soldiers shouting.
Jaune's head turned, senses straining. A fierce grin split his face as he locked onto a hulking silhouette in the gloom. Pyrrha followed his gaze... And her eyes widened.
"Do… Do you have an idea?" Pyrrha asked, already suspecting.
"Yup!"
- - -
Outside the perimeter fence, General Hardy stood beside her command jeep. She scowled at the perimeter walls. All things considered, it was probably for the best things would look more chaotic. And she only needed one of them alive.
She barked into a radio. "All units, shoot to kill Arc! Don't hit Nikos! Do not let them—"
A thunderous crash split the night. The reinforced brick wall of the vehicle yard exploded outward as a massive T-88 Ragnarok tank smashed through like it was paper. Jaune stood tall in the open driver's hatch amid several bricks, armor battered, steering the beast with visible effort but wearing a large grin on his face.
Hardy's eyes bulged in disbelief. Her troops opened fire, but the rounds all bounced off the tank's armor or Jaune's.
She dove into her jeep. "Drive! DRIVE, DAMN YOU!"
Her driver yelped:
"But the soldiers-!"
"Use the bumper! THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR!"
The car drove through many Atlasian soldiers. Those unlucky not to dive out of the way got slammed clear by the jeep's bumper.
The tank roared after them, treads chewing through parked vehicles and pavement alike (though slow enough to allow the remaining Atlasian troops to get clear). Jaune plowed straight through a row of jeeps like a battering ram, sending them flying.
Inside the cabin, Pyrrha clutched the seat, holding on for dear life as the tank barreled onward. Gunfire pinged off the armor.
"I'm not sure if this is a good idea!" she yelled over the engine roar and chaos.
Jaune just grinned wider, cybernetic eyes glowing.
"Probably not! But I've always wanted to try it!"
Pyrrha stared at him—this ridiculous, wonderful, impossible man in his battered armor who had charged into hell for her more times than she could count—and felt laughter bubble up despite the pain, despite the pursuit, despite everything. She smiled in pure exasperation and deep affection, leaning into his armored side as the tank thundered on, chasing Hardy's fleeing jeep through the heart of Atlas.
The general's coup had just met its first real resistance—and it was loud, armored, and utterly unstoppable.
- - -
In this version of events, we have a duplicitous General Jinjur Hardy to be the bad guy who stages a coup of Atlas. Let's just say things go badly for her in the ensuing chaos. Plus, Jaune gets to drive a tank! So he's quite happy.
And yes this is obviously inspired by the James Bond movie "Goldeneye".
Last edited:
bazerkerking
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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The killdozer returns in a new form... STAND AGAINST TYRANNY!!
Dinner with the Kids
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AndrewJTalon
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The training fields behind Beacon were still smoking faintly as the sun dipped low over the cliffs. Isabel Arc—Granny to most of the temporal invaders—had not held back. Neither had Winter, nor Jaune.. Especially not Grandpa Nick. Theodore Schnee-Arc rolled his shoulders as he trudged up the path, his pristine white-and-blue combat jacket scorched in three places and his hair sticking up at odd angles from repeated attacks. Every muscle burned, but the corner of his mouth still quirked upward in a satisfied little smirk.
He spotted the others sprawled across the stone retaining wall near the amphitheater steps. Dorothy was face-down on the grass, groaning. Amethyst sat beside her, knees drawn up, looking like she might cry. Xia had her head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed in pure exhaustion. Petra leaned heavily on her short sword, chain dangling limply. Ash and Ashley were slumped shoulder-to-shoulder, twins in misery. Nicholas looked half-dead. Only Julian and August were still upright, chatting animatedly about some new trick they'd pulled off with their weapons after working together.
Xia cracked one lilac eye open as Theodore approached.
"Could've stayed in the future if we were gonna be trained into the ground," she muttered.
"Speak for yourself," Julian grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "That last combo with August's sniper-spade? Chef's kiss. We're gonna wreck Papa next time."
August nodded enthusiastically, though even he was favoring one leg. "Granny Isabel said we're making 'acceptable progress.' High praise."
The rest of the group answered with various noises of suffering. Ash and Ashley each lifted one hand just enough to flip them off without raising their heads.
Theodore chuckled and dropped down beside his half-siblings, stretching his long legs. "Come on, it wasn't that bad. Progress!"
"Easy for you to say, Mr. 'Atlas Military Captain'," Xia grumbled. "Some of us aren't cheating."
"If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough," Theodore said with a grin.
A pause.
"So, Xander's gonna be spying on his date with his mom and Dad, huh?" Julian asked.
"Like the rest of us can talk," August muttered, shooting a look at Theodore. He shrugged non-chalantly.
"Hey… I won't tell anyone if you don't."
Before anyone could retort, new footsteps approached—confident, swaggering ones. Theodore's head came up first.
Four figures were strolling their way from the direction of the dorms. Leading them was a sleek rabbit Faunus with perfectly coifed black hair, long ears twitching with interest, and a cocky smirk that screamed "I own the world and you're just renting space." His black-and-green bodysuit glowed faintly under the evening lights. Behind him trailed a short, potbellied frog Faunus who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, an elegant red-haired ant Faunus with a regal bearing and a rapier at her hip, and a shredded grasshopper Faunus who was idly twirling a mandolin.
The rabbit faunus's smile widened as his black eyes swept over the tired group.
"Well, well," he drawled, voice smooth as oil. "The mysterious new transfers. Or should I say… the very talkative new arrivals who've been turning Beacon upside down? I'm Hex Skvader. This is Hortensia Pismire…"
The Ant faunus blushed and bowed slightly.
"Candide Nymph."
The Grasshopper Faunus grinned and posed, flexing her bicep. Hex paused. The frog faunus smiled nervously, adjusting his glasses. Hex slowly nodded, smirking a bit.
"And… Oh yes… Kupa Manduka," Hex finished, "Fourth member of our little band. Nice to meet you all."
He eyed the Arc women especially as he said this. Xia frowned, as did Ashley and Dorothy. Theodore raised an eyebrow. Ash's glare was tight and angry. August and Julian both stared coldly. Petra was carefully blank as Nicholas scowled. Ashley gave a flirtatious smile… But there was a knife's edge in it.
"Nice to meet you too," Theodore spoke. "I'm Theodore. That's Dorothy, Xia, Ashley, Ash, Julian, Nicholas, Petra, and August. You might be familiar with our other family members."
"Not as familiar as I would like to be," Hex said with a grin, "You've been remarkably anti-social for people causing this much commotion. We thought we might remedy that. Drinks tonight? My treat, of course. I'm always eager to make the acquaintance of promising newcomers. Especially ones with such… interesting family connections."
He said the last part while looking directly at Theodore, then let his gaze drift lazily across the girls—lingering perhaps a second too long on Xia and Dorothy.
Theodore pushed himself up smoothly, brushing grass off his jacket. His expression stayed pleasant, but his blue eyes sharpened.
"That's very generous of you. We'd be delighted to join you for drinks… tomorrow evening. After we've had a chance to recover from today's training, of course."
Hex's smile didn't falter, but it tightened at the edges—just enough that even Julian, still catching his breath, narrowed his eyes. The rabbit Faunus gave a theatrical little bow.
"Tomorrow it is, then. I look forward to it. Don't keep us waiting too long, friends. We though? We'll party extra hard tonight, won't we?"
The girls nodded eagerly. The Frog Faunus hesitated a moment too long, and Hex glared at him. He nodded.
"S-Sure Hex! Whatever you say!"
With that, Hex and his team turned and sauntered off toward the main courtyard, Hex already laughing at something Kupa mumbled. Hortensia shot one last appraising glance over her shoulder before following.
Theodore watched them go, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Julian stepped up beside him. "That guy's smile was faker than Uncle Roman's 'totally legitimate' Dust shipments."
"Yeah," Theodore murmured. "Something's off. He was fishing for information the whole time." He glanced back at the exhausted group. "We'll go tomorrow. Together. No one wanders off alone with them."
"We are confined to Beacon," Petra pointed out.
"I don't think that's going to stop him," August said wryly. "But it would be better if we could get him to stay here. Bring drinks here."
"Yes," Dorothy said with a nod, "It would. Something's… Familiar about him. I can't remember what though."
"I know," Theodore muttered. "So we'll have to play nice."
Xia groaned again, louder this time. "Great. More socializing after getting our asses handed to us by family. Can't wait."
Dorothy finally rolled over, glaring at the sky. "Still… If they try anything, I can definitely tell my mom on them."
"That might be a fate worse than death," Julian said seriously. He thought about it. "But given how that guy was eyeing us? He might deserve it… A little."
The group started moving slowly toward the dining hall—mothers waiting, dinner to be had, and another layer of the temporal mess to navigate. Theodore lingered for a moment, still watching the retreating backs of Team HPNK.
Tomorrow, he thought. We'll see what you're really after, bunny boy.
He turned and jogged to catch up with his siblings, the cheerful mask sliding back into place as he threw an arm around Julian's shoulders.
"Come on. Last one to the hall has to explain to Mom why they're late."
Groans rose up in chorus, but they picked up the pace anyway.
He spotted the others sprawled across the stone retaining wall near the amphitheater steps. Dorothy was face-down on the grass, groaning. Amethyst sat beside her, knees drawn up, looking like she might cry. Xia had her head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed in pure exhaustion. Petra leaned heavily on her short sword, chain dangling limply. Ash and Ashley were slumped shoulder-to-shoulder, twins in misery. Nicholas looked half-dead. Only Julian and August were still upright, chatting animatedly about some new trick they'd pulled off with their weapons after working together.
Xia cracked one lilac eye open as Theodore approached.
"Could've stayed in the future if we were gonna be trained into the ground," she muttered.
"Speak for yourself," Julian grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. "That last combo with August's sniper-spade? Chef's kiss. We're gonna wreck Papa next time."
August nodded enthusiastically, though even he was favoring one leg. "Granny Isabel said we're making 'acceptable progress.' High praise."
The rest of the group answered with various noises of suffering. Ash and Ashley each lifted one hand just enough to flip them off without raising their heads.
Theodore chuckled and dropped down beside his half-siblings, stretching his long legs. "Come on, it wasn't that bad. Progress!"
"Easy for you to say, Mr. 'Atlas Military Captain'," Xia grumbled. "Some of us aren't cheating."
"If you're not cheating, you're not trying hard enough," Theodore said with a grin.
A pause.
"So, Xander's gonna be spying on his date with his mom and Dad, huh?" Julian asked.
"Like the rest of us can talk," August muttered, shooting a look at Theodore. He shrugged non-chalantly.
"Hey… I won't tell anyone if you don't."
Before anyone could retort, new footsteps approached—confident, swaggering ones. Theodore's head came up first.
Four figures were strolling their way from the direction of the dorms. Leading them was a sleek rabbit Faunus with perfectly coifed black hair, long ears twitching with interest, and a cocky smirk that screamed "I own the world and you're just renting space." His black-and-green bodysuit glowed faintly under the evening lights. Behind him trailed a short, potbellied frog Faunus who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, an elegant red-haired ant Faunus with a regal bearing and a rapier at her hip, and a shredded grasshopper Faunus who was idly twirling a mandolin.
The rabbit faunus's smile widened as his black eyes swept over the tired group.
"Well, well," he drawled, voice smooth as oil. "The mysterious new transfers. Or should I say… the very talkative new arrivals who've been turning Beacon upside down? I'm Hex Skvader. This is Hortensia Pismire…"
The Ant faunus blushed and bowed slightly.
"Candide Nymph."
The Grasshopper Faunus grinned and posed, flexing her bicep. Hex paused. The frog faunus smiled nervously, adjusting his glasses. Hex slowly nodded, smirking a bit.
"And… Oh yes… Kupa Manduka," Hex finished, "Fourth member of our little band. Nice to meet you all."
He eyed the Arc women especially as he said this. Xia frowned, as did Ashley and Dorothy. Theodore raised an eyebrow. Ash's glare was tight and angry. August and Julian both stared coldly. Petra was carefully blank as Nicholas scowled. Ashley gave a flirtatious smile… But there was a knife's edge in it.
"Nice to meet you too," Theodore spoke. "I'm Theodore. That's Dorothy, Xia, Ashley, Ash, Julian, Nicholas, Petra, and August. You might be familiar with our other family members."
"Not as familiar as I would like to be," Hex said with a grin, "You've been remarkably anti-social for people causing this much commotion. We thought we might remedy that. Drinks tonight? My treat, of course. I'm always eager to make the acquaintance of promising newcomers. Especially ones with such… interesting family connections."
He said the last part while looking directly at Theodore, then let his gaze drift lazily across the girls—lingering perhaps a second too long on Xia and Dorothy.
Theodore pushed himself up smoothly, brushing grass off his jacket. His expression stayed pleasant, but his blue eyes sharpened.
"That's very generous of you. We'd be delighted to join you for drinks… tomorrow evening. After we've had a chance to recover from today's training, of course."
Hex's smile didn't falter, but it tightened at the edges—just enough that even Julian, still catching his breath, narrowed his eyes. The rabbit Faunus gave a theatrical little bow.
"Tomorrow it is, then. I look forward to it. Don't keep us waiting too long, friends. We though? We'll party extra hard tonight, won't we?"
The girls nodded eagerly. The Frog Faunus hesitated a moment too long, and Hex glared at him. He nodded.
"S-Sure Hex! Whatever you say!"
With that, Hex and his team turned and sauntered off toward the main courtyard, Hex already laughing at something Kupa mumbled. Hortensia shot one last appraising glance over her shoulder before following.
Theodore watched them go, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Julian stepped up beside him. "That guy's smile was faker than Uncle Roman's 'totally legitimate' Dust shipments."
"Yeah," Theodore murmured. "Something's off. He was fishing for information the whole time." He glanced back at the exhausted group. "We'll go tomorrow. Together. No one wanders off alone with them."
"We are confined to Beacon," Petra pointed out.
"I don't think that's going to stop him," August said wryly. "But it would be better if we could get him to stay here. Bring drinks here."
"Yes," Dorothy said with a nod, "It would. Something's… Familiar about him. I can't remember what though."
"I know," Theodore muttered. "So we'll have to play nice."
Xia groaned again, louder this time. "Great. More socializing after getting our asses handed to us by family. Can't wait."
Dorothy finally rolled over, glaring at the sky. "Still… If they try anything, I can definitely tell my mom on them."
"That might be a fate worse than death," Julian said seriously. He thought about it. "But given how that guy was eyeing us? He might deserve it… A little."
The group started moving slowly toward the dining hall—mothers waiting, dinner to be had, and another layer of the temporal mess to navigate. Theodore lingered for a moment, still watching the retreating backs of Team HPNK.
Tomorrow, he thought. We'll see what you're really after, bunny boy.
He turned and jogged to catch up with his siblings, the cheerful mask sliding back into place as he threw an arm around Julian's shoulders.
"Come on. Last one to the hall has to explain to Mom why they're late."
Groans rose up in chorus, but they picked up the pace anyway.
Old Comrades
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AndrewJTalon
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The basement beneath Ozpin's Tower was quiet, the kind of heavy silence that pressed in on the ears. Dim lights hummed overhead as Arjun Sarkara and Isabel Arc descended the reinforced stairs. The air carried the faint sterile bite of medical equipment and the deeper, earthier scent of old stone. He scanned around the room with interest, his eyes glowing faintly with his Semblance. They finally settled on one person.
Raven Branwen sat on her cot inside the reinforced cell, a stack of photographs spread across her lap—old images of Team STRQ, faded smiles from better days. The moment she heard footsteps, she shoved the photos aside with a sharp motion, turning her glare toward the approaching figures.
Isabel offered a small, professional nod. "Raven."
Raven's only response was a flat, hostile stare.
Isabel didn't push it. She moved instead to the adjacent medical station where Amber lay in her life-support pod, the Maiden's breathing slow and steady under the soft glow of monitors. The doctor pulled up a chair, fingers dancing across the keyboard as she checked readings and made careful notes.
Arjun approached the bars more directly. He slid a small paper plate through the narrow gap—rich chocolate cake, still slightly warm. Then he lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged right in front of the cell, silver-blue eyes steady and unblinking.
Raven snorted, eyeing the cake like it might bite her. "You here to give me another little speech about our past friendship?"
"Words seldom have worked with you," Arjun replied calmly.
"Hmph."
A long beat passed. Arjun studied her, his expression thoughtful rather than accusatory.
"…I can appreciate the difficulty in changing from something you've known your whole life, though."
Raven's lip curled. "You? The pampered prince?! The king who rules—?!"
"I had to effectively dissolve the caste system of Pandu," Arjun cut in, voice even but firm. "You remember—all those resistance groups, refusing to work together. I had to dismantle a system that had been in place for thousands of years just to get everyone pulling in the same direction. Even now it lingers in unofficial capacities, because changing culture is difficult." He met her eyes. "Changing individuals can be just as hard."
Raven said nothing, jaw tight.
"What makes you think you can't change?" Arjun asked quietly.
Raven looked away. "…What makes you think this changes anything?"
"We have proof of eleven different ways we can win," he pressed. "So why are you being stubborn? Pride? Anger? Hurt? Your care for Summer?"
Raven huffed, arms crossing over her chest. "You think you know everything, don't you?"
"I know there was a time we fought together as comrades," Arjun said. "That I attended your wedding. That I once trusted you with my life. And that we are finally in a position to avenge Summer and save the world."
Raven's glare burned with bitter resentment, but she didn't speak.
Arjun nodded slowly. "I understand. Even this has not destroyed your pride. But you will need to make a decision, Raven. Especially if you care for your family as much as you pretend not to."
Isabel finished her checks and walked back over, wiping her hands on her coat. "I've got the results. Let's get to dinner."
Arjun rose smoothly. "Yes… You're also missing Jaune's latest date."
Isabel hesitated, a flicker of maternal longing crossing her face. "I… I don't want to smother him… Besides, there's a lot of bonding I need to do."
Arjun chuckled warmly. "Same."
His expression sharpened.
"Also…"
In one fluid motion he produced a compact grappling hook from his belt, fired it through the bars, and latched onto the frame of Raven's cot. With a powerful yank, he flipped the entire thing over. Raven's eyes widened as a small, sharpened piece of metal she'd hidden clattered loudly to the floor.
"You can't escape my eyes, Raven," Arjun said, voice low.
Raven's eyes burned with pure murder at him through the bars.
Isabel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "She's going to be stubborn about this."
Arjun gave a wry half-smile as he retracted the hook. "Yes indeed."
Raven Branwen sat on her cot inside the reinforced cell, a stack of photographs spread across her lap—old images of Team STRQ, faded smiles from better days. The moment she heard footsteps, she shoved the photos aside with a sharp motion, turning her glare toward the approaching figures.
Isabel offered a small, professional nod. "Raven."
Raven's only response was a flat, hostile stare.
Isabel didn't push it. She moved instead to the adjacent medical station where Amber lay in her life-support pod, the Maiden's breathing slow and steady under the soft glow of monitors. The doctor pulled up a chair, fingers dancing across the keyboard as she checked readings and made careful notes.
Arjun approached the bars more directly. He slid a small paper plate through the narrow gap—rich chocolate cake, still slightly warm. Then he lowered himself to the floor, sitting cross-legged right in front of the cell, silver-blue eyes steady and unblinking.
Raven snorted, eyeing the cake like it might bite her. "You here to give me another little speech about our past friendship?"
"Words seldom have worked with you," Arjun replied calmly.
"Hmph."
A long beat passed. Arjun studied her, his expression thoughtful rather than accusatory.
"…I can appreciate the difficulty in changing from something you've known your whole life, though."
Raven's lip curled. "You? The pampered prince?! The king who rules—?!"
"I had to effectively dissolve the caste system of Pandu," Arjun cut in, voice even but firm. "You remember—all those resistance groups, refusing to work together. I had to dismantle a system that had been in place for thousands of years just to get everyone pulling in the same direction. Even now it lingers in unofficial capacities, because changing culture is difficult." He met her eyes. "Changing individuals can be just as hard."
Raven said nothing, jaw tight.
"What makes you think you can't change?" Arjun asked quietly.
Raven looked away. "…What makes you think this changes anything?"
"We have proof of eleven different ways we can win," he pressed. "So why are you being stubborn? Pride? Anger? Hurt? Your care for Summer?"
Raven huffed, arms crossing over her chest. "You think you know everything, don't you?"
"I know there was a time we fought together as comrades," Arjun said. "That I attended your wedding. That I once trusted you with my life. And that we are finally in a position to avenge Summer and save the world."
Raven's glare burned with bitter resentment, but she didn't speak.
Arjun nodded slowly. "I understand. Even this has not destroyed your pride. But you will need to make a decision, Raven. Especially if you care for your family as much as you pretend not to."
Isabel finished her checks and walked back over, wiping her hands on her coat. "I've got the results. Let's get to dinner."
Arjun rose smoothly. "Yes… You're also missing Jaune's latest date."
Isabel hesitated, a flicker of maternal longing crossing her face. "I… I don't want to smother him… Besides, there's a lot of bonding I need to do."
Arjun chuckled warmly. "Same."
His expression sharpened.
"Also…"
In one fluid motion he produced a compact grappling hook from his belt, fired it through the bars, and latched onto the frame of Raven's cot. With a powerful yank, he flipped the entire thing over. Raven's eyes widened as a small, sharpened piece of metal she'd hidden clattered loudly to the floor.
"You can't escape my eyes, Raven," Arjun said, voice low.
Raven's eyes burned with pure murder at him through the bars.
Isabel sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "She's going to be stubborn about this."
Arjun gave a wry half-smile as he retracted the hook. "Yes indeed."
Glimpses Into Another Time: May: First Word
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AndrewJTalon
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Hastinpur Royal Palace, Pandu, Anima
Five Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The first rays of dawn filtered through the ornate windows of the royal bedchamber, painting the room in soft golds and warm crimsons. Queen Maia Sarkara-Arc—May to those who knew her best—slipped out of the large bed carefully. Jaune was still snoring softly beside her, one arm flung out where she had been lying. She smiled fondly at the sight of her husband, hair tousled and face relaxed in sleep, before padding quietly down the short hallway to the nursery.
August was already awake.
The little prince stood up in his crib, tiny hands gripping the rail, bouncing on chubby legs with excitement the moment he spotted his mother. His bright eyes lit up and a huge, toothless grin split his face.
May's heart melted instantly.
"Awww… Sweetie, you're awake! You're awake!" she cooed, voice soft and full of wonder as she hurried over. August let out a string of happy babble
—"Buh buh buh… Bah…"—and reached for her with both arms.
"Awww…" May scooped him up, hugging him close. He snuggled immediately into her chest, little face pressing against the soft fabric of her nightgown with a contented sigh. She breathed him in—the warm baby smell, the faint scent of the herbal soap they used in his baths—and felt the weight of queenship, duty, and endless responsibilities fade for a perfect moment.
These moments were fleeting. She knew that. Between rebuilding Pandu, managing alliances, and all the quiet threats still lingering from Salem's shadow… time like this was precious. She treasured it all the more because of that.
May rocked him gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his dark hair.
"...Say Mama," she whispered encouragingly.
August made a small, thoughtful noise. "Mmph…"
"Mama… Mamaaaaa…"
"Mmmm…"
"Yes… Yes, you can do it… Mama! Mamaaaa!"
August scrunched up his face in concentration, then beamed.
"...Mmmmngghh… Dada!"
May blinked. "Uh?"
"Dada!" August declared proudly, bouncing in her arms.
The nursery door creaked open. Jaune wandered in, yawning widely and rubbing sleep from his eyes, still in his sleep pants and an old Beacon shirt.
"Hwah… What's going on—?"
"Dada!" August shouted again, waving one chubby arm excitedly.
Jaune's jaw dropped. His eyes bugged out comically. For a second he just stood there, frozen in pure shock and delight.
May couldn't help it—she burst into giggles. "His first word!"
"DADA!" August repeated with a massive toothless grin, clearly very pleased with himself.
Jaune made a strangled happy noise… then his knees buckled. He fainted dead away, crumpling dramatically to the nursery floor.
"Jaune! JAUNE!" May gasped, eyes wide. She quickly set August back in his crib (where the baby immediately grabbed the rail and continued chanting "Dada! Dada!") and rushed to her husband's side.
Jaune stirred as she knelt beside him, blinking up at her with a dazed, utterly besotted grin. "Uwah… Haa… S-Sorry… I just…" He laughed weakly, eyes shining. "It's… Amazing…"
May helped him sit up, still giggling. "Heheheh… Yeah…"
Together they rose and returned to the crib. Jaune reached in and carefully lifted August into his arms, hugging the baby close and kissing the top of his head with pure fatherly reverence.
"Say it again, buddy! Say it again!"
August patted Jaune's cheek happily. Then, with perfect timing and a mischievous little sparkle in his eyes, he looked straight at May and declared:
"...Mama!"
May's breath caught. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she laughed again, this time with pure joy. She wrapped her arms around both her husband and their son, pulling them into a warm family embrace right there beside the crib.
"Heh... Little scamp," Jaune muttered.
"He gets that from you, for sure," May giggled.
- - -
Happy Father's Day! Sorry for the slowdown.
Five Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The first rays of dawn filtered through the ornate windows of the royal bedchamber, painting the room in soft golds and warm crimsons. Queen Maia Sarkara-Arc—May to those who knew her best—slipped out of the large bed carefully. Jaune was still snoring softly beside her, one arm flung out where she had been lying. She smiled fondly at the sight of her husband, hair tousled and face relaxed in sleep, before padding quietly down the short hallway to the nursery.
August was already awake.
The little prince stood up in his crib, tiny hands gripping the rail, bouncing on chubby legs with excitement the moment he spotted his mother. His bright eyes lit up and a huge, toothless grin split his face.
May's heart melted instantly.
"Awww… Sweetie, you're awake! You're awake!" she cooed, voice soft and full of wonder as she hurried over. August let out a string of happy babble
—"Buh buh buh… Bah…"—and reached for her with both arms.
"Awww…" May scooped him up, hugging him close. He snuggled immediately into her chest, little face pressing against the soft fabric of her nightgown with a contented sigh. She breathed him in—the warm baby smell, the faint scent of the herbal soap they used in his baths—and felt the weight of queenship, duty, and endless responsibilities fade for a perfect moment.
These moments were fleeting. She knew that. Between rebuilding Pandu, managing alliances, and all the quiet threats still lingering from Salem's shadow… time like this was precious. She treasured it all the more because of that.
May rocked him gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his dark hair.
"...Say Mama," she whispered encouragingly.
August made a small, thoughtful noise. "Mmph…"
"Mama… Mamaaaaa…"
"Mmmm…"
"Yes… Yes, you can do it… Mama! Mamaaaa!"
August scrunched up his face in concentration, then beamed.
"...Mmmmngghh… Dada!"
May blinked. "Uh?"
"Dada!" August declared proudly, bouncing in her arms.
The nursery door creaked open. Jaune wandered in, yawning widely and rubbing sleep from his eyes, still in his sleep pants and an old Beacon shirt.
"Hwah… What's going on—?"
"Dada!" August shouted again, waving one chubby arm excitedly.
Jaune's jaw dropped. His eyes bugged out comically. For a second he just stood there, frozen in pure shock and delight.
May couldn't help it—she burst into giggles. "His first word!"
"DADA!" August repeated with a massive toothless grin, clearly very pleased with himself.
Jaune made a strangled happy noise… then his knees buckled. He fainted dead away, crumpling dramatically to the nursery floor.
"Jaune! JAUNE!" May gasped, eyes wide. She quickly set August back in his crib (where the baby immediately grabbed the rail and continued chanting "Dada! Dada!") and rushed to her husband's side.
Jaune stirred as she knelt beside him, blinking up at her with a dazed, utterly besotted grin. "Uwah… Haa… S-Sorry… I just…" He laughed weakly, eyes shining. "It's… Amazing…"
May helped him sit up, still giggling. "Heheheh… Yeah…"
Together they rose and returned to the crib. Jaune reached in and carefully lifted August into his arms, hugging the baby close and kissing the top of his head with pure fatherly reverence.
"Say it again, buddy! Say it again!"
August patted Jaune's cheek happily. Then, with perfect timing and a mischievous little sparkle in his eyes, he looked straight at May and declared:
"...Mama!"
May's breath caught. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she laughed again, this time with pure joy. She wrapped her arms around both her husband and their son, pulling them into a warm family embrace right there beside the crib.
"Heh... Little scamp," Jaune muttered.
"He gets that from you, for sure," May giggled.
- - -
Happy Father's Day! Sorry for the slowdown.
Glimpses Into Another Time: Glynda: Bonk
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Arc Family Farmhouse, Radian
Nine Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The late afternoon sun bathed the farmhouse porch in warm golden light. Glynda Goodwitch-Arc sat in a comfortable rocking chair, one hand resting protectively on her rounded belly. The twins, two-year-old Mombi and Ozma, played happily on a colorful playmat at her feet, stacking blocks and babbling to each other. Glynda smiled softly as she watched them, but her gaze kept drifting to the lawn.
Jaune was out there with their eldest, four-year-old Dorothy. He had given her a comically large plastic baseball bat (sized for a child but still almost as tall as she was) and held a bright yellow plastic softball in his hand. His eyepatch was firmly in place over the eye he had lost years ago, but his smile was as bright as ever.
"Okay… Here we go…!" Jaune called, backing up a few paces with an encouraging grin.
"Careful, dear!" Glynda called from the porch, a hint of warning in her voice.
"I'm careful, I'm careful…" Jaune replied, waving a hand reassuringly.
He tossed the ball underhand in a gentle arc. Dorothy's face scrunched up in determination. She swung the bat with all the considerable strength a Aura strong four-year-old could muster—
Thwack!
The plastic ball rocketed straight into Jaune's eyepatch. He staggered back with a startled yelp and toppled onto the grass.
Dorothy's eyes went wide. "Daddy!" She burst into tears.
On the porch, Mombi and Ozma immediately joined in, their little faces crumpling as they wailed in sympathy.
Glynda was on her feet in an instant, hurrying over as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. "Jaune?!"
"Ow…" Jaune sat up slowly, rubbing his eyepatch with a sheepish grin. "Well… That was unexpected."
The three children toddled over (Dorothy running, the twins waddling) and piled onto him in a tangle of hugs and sniffles. Jaune laughed softly and patted their heads, pulling them close.
"I'm fine, just surprised. That's all," he soothed, voice warm and steady. The kids calmed quickly under his gentle reassurance, tears drying as he kissed the tops of their heads.
Glynda let out a relieved breath, brushing a hand over his hair. "Good… Good…"
She gathered the twins and returned to the porch while Dorothy, now cheered up, picked up the bat again with renewed (if slightly nervous) enthusiasm. Jaune got back to his feet, smiling at his daughter.
"Come on, let's try again!"
He pitched another soft underhand toss.
Thwack!
This time the ball flew low and fast—straight into Jaune's crotch. He let out a strangled "Arghhh…!" and dropped to his knees, curling forward.
"DADDYYYY!" Dorothy wailed again, bat clattering to the ground as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
Glynda hurried over once more, one hand on her belly, trying—and mostly failing—to stifle her laughter. "Again?"
"I'm fine… I'm fine… Ow…" Jaune wheezed, managing a weak thumbs-up. He straightened up after a moment and pulled Dorothy into another hug, calming her down just as he had the twins.
Mombi and Ozma had wandered back to their playmat. Jaune smiled.
"Come on sweetie... Again?"
Dorothy, however, crossed her arms and pouted fiercely. "I don't wanna!"
"Come on Dorothy! This is fun!" Jaune encouraged, still a little hunched.
"Nuh uh!"
"It is fun… Watch?" Jaune picked up the ball again, smiling hopefully.
Dorothy huffed but reluctantly lifted the bat. Jaune tossed the ball gently—
It sailed wide and bonked her squarely in the eye.
Dorothy dropped like a tiny sack of potatoes and howled in pain. "WAAAAHHHHH! DADDYYYY!"
Jaune was at her side in a flash, checking her eye with practiced medic's hands. "It's okay! It's okay! You're okay! There's no damage!"
Glynda sighed deeply from the porch, rubbing her temple as the chaos continued. The twins were starting to fuss again in solidarity.
After Jaune had calmed Dorothy down (again), he looked over at his wife with a sheepish, one-eyed grin.
Glynda shook her head, amusement winning out over exasperation. "Maybe try soccer from now on?"
"Maybe..."
Nine Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The late afternoon sun bathed the farmhouse porch in warm golden light. Glynda Goodwitch-Arc sat in a comfortable rocking chair, one hand resting protectively on her rounded belly. The twins, two-year-old Mombi and Ozma, played happily on a colorful playmat at her feet, stacking blocks and babbling to each other. Glynda smiled softly as she watched them, but her gaze kept drifting to the lawn.
Jaune was out there with their eldest, four-year-old Dorothy. He had given her a comically large plastic baseball bat (sized for a child but still almost as tall as she was) and held a bright yellow plastic softball in his hand. His eyepatch was firmly in place over the eye he had lost years ago, but his smile was as bright as ever.
"Okay… Here we go…!" Jaune called, backing up a few paces with an encouraging grin.
"Careful, dear!" Glynda called from the porch, a hint of warning in her voice.
"I'm careful, I'm careful…" Jaune replied, waving a hand reassuringly.
He tossed the ball underhand in a gentle arc. Dorothy's face scrunched up in determination. She swung the bat with all the considerable strength a Aura strong four-year-old could muster—
Thwack!
The plastic ball rocketed straight into Jaune's eyepatch. He staggered back with a startled yelp and toppled onto the grass.
Dorothy's eyes went wide. "Daddy!" She burst into tears.
On the porch, Mombi and Ozma immediately joined in, their little faces crumpling as they wailed in sympathy.
Glynda was on her feet in an instant, hurrying over as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. "Jaune?!"
"Ow…" Jaune sat up slowly, rubbing his eyepatch with a sheepish grin. "Well… That was unexpected."
The three children toddled over (Dorothy running, the twins waddling) and piled onto him in a tangle of hugs and sniffles. Jaune laughed softly and patted their heads, pulling them close.
"I'm fine, just surprised. That's all," he soothed, voice warm and steady. The kids calmed quickly under his gentle reassurance, tears drying as he kissed the tops of their heads.
Glynda let out a relieved breath, brushing a hand over his hair. "Good… Good…"
She gathered the twins and returned to the porch while Dorothy, now cheered up, picked up the bat again with renewed (if slightly nervous) enthusiasm. Jaune got back to his feet, smiling at his daughter.
"Come on, let's try again!"
He pitched another soft underhand toss.
Thwack!
This time the ball flew low and fast—straight into Jaune's crotch. He let out a strangled "Arghhh…!" and dropped to his knees, curling forward.
"DADDYYYY!" Dorothy wailed again, bat clattering to the ground as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
Glynda hurried over once more, one hand on her belly, trying—and mostly failing—to stifle her laughter. "Again?"
"I'm fine… I'm fine… Ow…" Jaune wheezed, managing a weak thumbs-up. He straightened up after a moment and pulled Dorothy into another hug, calming her down just as he had the twins.
Mombi and Ozma had wandered back to their playmat. Jaune smiled.
"Come on sweetie... Again?"
Dorothy, however, crossed her arms and pouted fiercely. "I don't wanna!"
"Come on Dorothy! This is fun!" Jaune encouraged, still a little hunched.
"Nuh uh!"
"It is fun… Watch?" Jaune picked up the ball again, smiling hopefully.
Dorothy huffed but reluctantly lifted the bat. Jaune tossed the ball gently—
It sailed wide and bonked her squarely in the eye.
Dorothy dropped like a tiny sack of potatoes and howled in pain. "WAAAAHHHHH! DADDYYYY!"
Jaune was at her side in a flash, checking her eye with practiced medic's hands. "It's okay! It's okay! You're okay! There's no damage!"
Glynda sighed deeply from the porch, rubbing her temple as the chaos continued. The twins were starting to fuss again in solidarity.
After Jaune had calmed Dorothy down (again), he looked over at his wife with a sheepish, one-eyed grin.
Glynda shook her head, amusement winning out over exasperation. "Maybe try soccer from now on?"
"Maybe..."
Last edited:
Pyrrha's Date, Part 3
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AndrewJTalon
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Cinder adjusted her binoculars as an all too familiar set of feelings swelled within her chest. Feelings she was trying not to acknowledge. Jealousy. Envy. If it was just those two it would be easy to ignore but a third feeling was coiling about in her gut, a feeling that didn't have a convenient one word name yet she knew it well all the same.
It was a particular mix of self loathing that arose with hindsight; the realization that opportunity had passed you by and was now forever closed to you.
She could see it in the way Jaune laughed with his partner Pyrrha. The way they leaned in close to one another as they took turns decimating the targets of the shooting gallery and winning more and more plushies from the attraction.
The opportunities Cinder could see she had missed were already a legion and growing. Pyrrha was so obviously besotted with her team leader that it was clear that the Invincible Girl would do whatever the blond boy asked of her. A clear path to subvert her greatest obstacle within the student body had formed in her mind's eye, a way to make the brightest rising star of the next crop of huntresses a permanent extension of her own will via wrapping the redhead's crush around her finger and then graciously granting her a degree of access would have been so easy! The look Pyrrha gave Jaune was similar enough to the looks Emerald had directed towards her before the time travelers had arrived to make it clear such a plan could have worked.
Cinder could close her eyes and see how secure her lairs would have felt if she could have commanded the Invincible Girl to stand guard. How peacefully she could have slept knowing such a powerful warrior could dutifully keep watch through the night…
…Cinder allowed those thoughts to swirl on the surface to keep other thoughts from rising to the top. Dangerous thoughts that stoked other emotions that would be even more distracting. Imagining Pyrrha in the role of nightly watchwoman made it easier to ignore that Emerald wasn't her nightly watchwoman anymore, and thoughts about Emerald were particularly complicated at the moment.
The flames of anger danced around those complicated thoughts. Emerald had promised unshakable and unquestionable loyalty. Cinder had gone out of her way to test it and ensure it. For years she had relied upon and trusted that promise as it was the one thing she was truly sure of in the cloak and dagger world she lived in.
Then time itself decided to prove Emerald a liar.
Eleven possibilities, and from what she could gather through her access to Arc's scroll Emerald had betrayed her in all but one of them. The one where she had abandoned her mission, her purpose, her dream.
The one where she was weak.
And yet things were far enough off the rails now that Cinder didn't think they were beholden to any of those eleven possibilities. A twelfth possibility could be forming before her eyes… and that deepened the feeling of lost opportunity.
There was a timeline where Emerald remained true to her promise of loyalty. There was only one timeline where Cinder was weak. Somewhere in the sea of unrealized potential was a timeline where Emerald remained true while Cinder didn't become weak.
She wasn't thinking about how that timeline could have been this one. How if she had held her wrath until she had a more complete picture her loyal thief would still be at her side helping her plan and figure out her next move. With Emerald she could have devised a plan to separate Jaune… the man… the fa-… of her… Jaune. With Emerald she could have devised a plan to separate Jaune from the rest of the women and settle everything on her terms.
That was perhaps the most painful lost opportunity of them all. Emerald's absence was becoming more and more pronounced with each passing moment, especially since her present company wasn't content with silent observation.
"Your boy has good reflexes," Iridescent purred as she adjusted her own binoculars. She let out an appreciative whistle as the shooting range was set up again and Jaune took another turn. "No hesitation. No doubt in his movement." Iridescent shivered as she closed her eyes and imagined, "I can see it. How effective a killer he could become with the right... push. You really landed yourself a magnificent specimen of a man."
"I haven't landed him," Cinder did her best to not bristle at Iridescent's tone. "And I can't subvert him with the harem he has now."
"That is a fixable problem you know," Iridescent lowered her binoculars and smiled in Cinder's direction. "With the data we've been able to gather with the little spying chip Neo planted, we know that you killed Pyrrha in roughly half of the timelines. If you can kill her you can kill any of them! Remove the right ones from the playing field and you'll have plenty of options."
The image rose unbidden in Cinder's mind; Pyrrha removed, Cinder standing in her place. She saw herself with him in the fairgrounds, sharing food with him and laughing at something he had said.
Cinder clamped down on that image for a number of reasons. The first that she would admit to was that such fantasies were a distraction from the mission. The reason she wasn't admitting…
…her… children. They had been sending her photos. Photos of their home life. Photos of herself spending time with their… Father… His gentle expression as he looked upon her, her small smile in reply…
She would not see any tender expressions from him if she killed any of the other women.
The feeling of lost opportunity mingled with the smell of burning flesh and the screams of familiar strangers…
Today was not the day to kill.
"You want us to get closer?" Mercury asked using his scroll's walkie-talkie feature. He was at the other end of the fairgrounds with Neo, getting a different angle on their quarry.
"Maybe," Cinder replied with a tone that made it clear the word was a consideration but not yet a permission.
"Well, we have a… Nevermind. They're about to be on high alert." Mercury's frown could be heard in his voice. "I'm seeing several well known members of Mistral's paparazzi entering the fairground."
"Then the choice is made for us," Cinder started sweeping her binoculars over the crowd trying to see if she could spot any of the approaching pushy reporters and photographers. "We keep our distance and remain unseen…"
- - -
"Damnit," Xander muttered under his breath. Even after the War for the Dawn, reporters had survived—and thrived. Voracious as ever. On one hand, he could almost accept that they had to eat and people deserved information. And his father always emphasized that freedom of the press was vital to a healthy free society.
On the other… people who tried sneaking into his locker room right after his birthday deserved everything they got.
"Look at her fiancé!" hissed the lead paparazzi—a pink-haired woman with large square glasses. "It's that Arc guy with ten other fiancées!"
"We knew that, Karen, thank you," grumbled the man beside her.
Xander stayed in the shadows, tweaking Polarity here, causing an electrical surge there. A broken camera. A conveniently timed blackout. Most of the ambush photographers were neutralized before they could ruin his parents' night-Many weeping and shrieking in horror as their cameras and Scrolls exploded or melted down.
But the sheer volume was exhausting.
One particularly bold male reporter popped out of a bush, ready to ambush the young couple. Before Jaune or Pyrrha could notice, a metal trash can dropped squarely on his head with a loud clang.
Another reporter, a greasy looking man with a double chin and an unconvincing combover, approached him with a smirk and a box in his hands. Xander waved his hand... And the box sparked, but nothing else happened. The reporter laughed.
"HA! Fool! I've been following Pyrrha Nikos for years! From her debut to now!" He pulled the box off, revealing a wire mesh cage around his Scroll. "I have a Faradaying Cage! You can't do anything to me!"
"Oh really?" Xander asked with a nod, "You know what those are made of?"
"... Metal?" The reporter guessed.
The box slammed up into the reporter's face, breaking his nose and knocking him out. Xander sighed as a few people checked on the guy. He looked ahead and saw his parents moving ahead.
"Every Breaker-damned time..." Xander growled. "They're like fu—freaking cockroaches!"
He kept moving, staying just close enough to protect without being spotted. They'd circled back toward the dunk tank... Where Khalisah Bint was being strapped in.
"Oh no," Xander groaned.
She waved wildly at the couple.
"Hello, Pyrrha Nikos!" she called. "Any comment on sharing your new fiancé with ten other women?"
Pyrrha froze, her smile stiff and her eyebrow twitching. A lot of people stared her way. Jaune looked around quickly... And thought just as quickly.
Jaune raised his voice cheerfully. "That's flattering, lady… but this is just my girlfriend, Thetis Nereid! She's a really good Pyrrha cosplayer."
"Oh yes, I get that all the time!" Pyrrha played along perfectly. "You can check out my Dustogram!"
Bint scoffed.
"You're telling me that a cosplayer is out with Jaune Arc?! The same blond who is engaged to eleven women at Beacon?!"
Jaune blinked innocently.
"Huh? That guy? I look like him? Wow! Thanks!"
"Thank you for complimenting my boyfriend!" Pyrrha laughed, squeezing his bicep, "He is pretty hot, huh?"
Bint huffed in disbelief.
"Are you seriously trying to deny-?"
The mousy stall operator silently handed over three balls. Pyrrha handed over some Lien, still smiling.
She hurled all three balls at once. Every single one hit the target.
Bint's eyes widened.
"BWAH!"
SPLASH!
After the platform reset, Bint sputtered, "Follow-up: What do you have to say regarding Mr. Arc's polygamous relationship status then, Ms. Nereid!?" Maximum sarcasm dripped from every word.
"She's persistent," Jaune noted dryly.
"You have no idea," Pyrrha replied. She handed balls to Jaune. He dunked Bint again.
"PFFT! What about freedom of the press?!"
"You have plenty of freedoms," Pyrrha said sweetly. "Just not sure why you're wasting them on a cosplayer."
"Yeah," Jaune agreed.
They turned and walked off as onlookers laughed at the sputtering reporter. Jaune sighed.
"Geez…"
Pyrrha smiled softly. "Thanks, Jaune… Sorry about that."
"Nah… It's something we'll have to get used to, I guess."
"Yeah… But I'm okay as long as you're with me."
Jaune smiled back at her—that warm, caring smile that always made Pyrrha's heart skip. He leaned in for a quick peck. Pyrrha reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.
YES YES YES YES YESSSSSS! She thought happily.
From the tank, Bint gasped. She rumamged through her clothes... And found a spare camera. She grinned as she lifted it to her eyes.
"Yes! My break—!"
Her camera burst into flames. She yelped and tossed it into the water. Glaring daggers, she spotted Xander standing in front of the tank, smiling… and holding a ball.
"...You wouldn't dare—!"
Xander threw. Down Bint went again.
He sighed and shook his head. "She's not much better in the future."
"Oh really?"
Xander tensed and looked back at Ren and Nora, both glaring at him. Nora was holding a giant plushy panda. He coughed. "Ahhhh… Hey. What a coincidence, seeing you guys here... Where my parents are!"
"You were told to stay at Beacon," Ren said flatly.
Xander shrugged.
"Ahhhh... Well..."
Pyrrha and Jaune's kiss ended. Both panting for breath, smiling, blushing...
Xander winced. He looked back over at his aunt and uncle.
"So... Um... Could you guys please not say anything and maybe let me go?"
"No," Ren stated. Ren marched Xander over to his parents.
Bint was lifted back once more, ranting and wailing.
"HEY! Get me out of here! You can't just hold me here! GET ME OUT!"
Nora handed over more Lien. She took the balls and threw them, hard. All three hit the target and once more, Bint was dunked.
"BWAHHH!"
It was a particular mix of self loathing that arose with hindsight; the realization that opportunity had passed you by and was now forever closed to you.
She could see it in the way Jaune laughed with his partner Pyrrha. The way they leaned in close to one another as they took turns decimating the targets of the shooting gallery and winning more and more plushies from the attraction.
The opportunities Cinder could see she had missed were already a legion and growing. Pyrrha was so obviously besotted with her team leader that it was clear that the Invincible Girl would do whatever the blond boy asked of her. A clear path to subvert her greatest obstacle within the student body had formed in her mind's eye, a way to make the brightest rising star of the next crop of huntresses a permanent extension of her own will via wrapping the redhead's crush around her finger and then graciously granting her a degree of access would have been so easy! The look Pyrrha gave Jaune was similar enough to the looks Emerald had directed towards her before the time travelers had arrived to make it clear such a plan could have worked.
Cinder could close her eyes and see how secure her lairs would have felt if she could have commanded the Invincible Girl to stand guard. How peacefully she could have slept knowing such a powerful warrior could dutifully keep watch through the night…
…Cinder allowed those thoughts to swirl on the surface to keep other thoughts from rising to the top. Dangerous thoughts that stoked other emotions that would be even more distracting. Imagining Pyrrha in the role of nightly watchwoman made it easier to ignore that Emerald wasn't her nightly watchwoman anymore, and thoughts about Emerald were particularly complicated at the moment.
The flames of anger danced around those complicated thoughts. Emerald had promised unshakable and unquestionable loyalty. Cinder had gone out of her way to test it and ensure it. For years she had relied upon and trusted that promise as it was the one thing she was truly sure of in the cloak and dagger world she lived in.
Then time itself decided to prove Emerald a liar.
Eleven possibilities, and from what she could gather through her access to Arc's scroll Emerald had betrayed her in all but one of them. The one where she had abandoned her mission, her purpose, her dream.
The one where she was weak.
And yet things were far enough off the rails now that Cinder didn't think they were beholden to any of those eleven possibilities. A twelfth possibility could be forming before her eyes… and that deepened the feeling of lost opportunity.
There was a timeline where Emerald remained true to her promise of loyalty. There was only one timeline where Cinder was weak. Somewhere in the sea of unrealized potential was a timeline where Emerald remained true while Cinder didn't become weak.
She wasn't thinking about how that timeline could have been this one. How if she had held her wrath until she had a more complete picture her loyal thief would still be at her side helping her plan and figure out her next move. With Emerald she could have devised a plan to separate Jaune… the man… the fa-… of her… Jaune. With Emerald she could have devised a plan to separate Jaune from the rest of the women and settle everything on her terms.
That was perhaps the most painful lost opportunity of them all. Emerald's absence was becoming more and more pronounced with each passing moment, especially since her present company wasn't content with silent observation.
"Your boy has good reflexes," Iridescent purred as she adjusted her own binoculars. She let out an appreciative whistle as the shooting range was set up again and Jaune took another turn. "No hesitation. No doubt in his movement." Iridescent shivered as she closed her eyes and imagined, "I can see it. How effective a killer he could become with the right... push. You really landed yourself a magnificent specimen of a man."
"I haven't landed him," Cinder did her best to not bristle at Iridescent's tone. "And I can't subvert him with the harem he has now."
"That is a fixable problem you know," Iridescent lowered her binoculars and smiled in Cinder's direction. "With the data we've been able to gather with the little spying chip Neo planted, we know that you killed Pyrrha in roughly half of the timelines. If you can kill her you can kill any of them! Remove the right ones from the playing field and you'll have plenty of options."
The image rose unbidden in Cinder's mind; Pyrrha removed, Cinder standing in her place. She saw herself with him in the fairgrounds, sharing food with him and laughing at something he had said.
Cinder clamped down on that image for a number of reasons. The first that she would admit to was that such fantasies were a distraction from the mission. The reason she wasn't admitting…
…her… children. They had been sending her photos. Photos of their home life. Photos of herself spending time with their… Father… His gentle expression as he looked upon her, her small smile in reply…
She would not see any tender expressions from him if she killed any of the other women.
The feeling of lost opportunity mingled with the smell of burning flesh and the screams of familiar strangers…
Today was not the day to kill.
"You want us to get closer?" Mercury asked using his scroll's walkie-talkie feature. He was at the other end of the fairgrounds with Neo, getting a different angle on their quarry.
"Maybe," Cinder replied with a tone that made it clear the word was a consideration but not yet a permission.
"Well, we have a… Nevermind. They're about to be on high alert." Mercury's frown could be heard in his voice. "I'm seeing several well known members of Mistral's paparazzi entering the fairground."
"Then the choice is made for us," Cinder started sweeping her binoculars over the crowd trying to see if she could spot any of the approaching pushy reporters and photographers. "We keep our distance and remain unseen…"
- - -
"Damnit," Xander muttered under his breath. Even after the War for the Dawn, reporters had survived—and thrived. Voracious as ever. On one hand, he could almost accept that they had to eat and people deserved information. And his father always emphasized that freedom of the press was vital to a healthy free society.
On the other… people who tried sneaking into his locker room right after his birthday deserved everything they got.
"Look at her fiancé!" hissed the lead paparazzi—a pink-haired woman with large square glasses. "It's that Arc guy with ten other fiancées!"
"We knew that, Karen, thank you," grumbled the man beside her.
Xander stayed in the shadows, tweaking Polarity here, causing an electrical surge there. A broken camera. A conveniently timed blackout. Most of the ambush photographers were neutralized before they could ruin his parents' night-Many weeping and shrieking in horror as their cameras and Scrolls exploded or melted down.
But the sheer volume was exhausting.
One particularly bold male reporter popped out of a bush, ready to ambush the young couple. Before Jaune or Pyrrha could notice, a metal trash can dropped squarely on his head with a loud clang.
Another reporter, a greasy looking man with a double chin and an unconvincing combover, approached him with a smirk and a box in his hands. Xander waved his hand... And the box sparked, but nothing else happened. The reporter laughed.
"HA! Fool! I've been following Pyrrha Nikos for years! From her debut to now!" He pulled the box off, revealing a wire mesh cage around his Scroll. "I have a Faradaying Cage! You can't do anything to me!"
"Oh really?" Xander asked with a nod, "You know what those are made of?"
"... Metal?" The reporter guessed.
The box slammed up into the reporter's face, breaking his nose and knocking him out. Xander sighed as a few people checked on the guy. He looked ahead and saw his parents moving ahead.
"Every Breaker-damned time..." Xander growled. "They're like fu—freaking cockroaches!"
He kept moving, staying just close enough to protect without being spotted. They'd circled back toward the dunk tank... Where Khalisah Bint was being strapped in.
"Oh no," Xander groaned.
She waved wildly at the couple.
"Hello, Pyrrha Nikos!" she called. "Any comment on sharing your new fiancé with ten other women?"
Pyrrha froze, her smile stiff and her eyebrow twitching. A lot of people stared her way. Jaune looked around quickly... And thought just as quickly.
Jaune raised his voice cheerfully. "That's flattering, lady… but this is just my girlfriend, Thetis Nereid! She's a really good Pyrrha cosplayer."
"Oh yes, I get that all the time!" Pyrrha played along perfectly. "You can check out my Dustogram!"
Bint scoffed.
"You're telling me that a cosplayer is out with Jaune Arc?! The same blond who is engaged to eleven women at Beacon?!"
Jaune blinked innocently.
"Huh? That guy? I look like him? Wow! Thanks!"
"Thank you for complimenting my boyfriend!" Pyrrha laughed, squeezing his bicep, "He is pretty hot, huh?"
Bint huffed in disbelief.
"Are you seriously trying to deny-?"
The mousy stall operator silently handed over three balls. Pyrrha handed over some Lien, still smiling.
She hurled all three balls at once. Every single one hit the target.
Bint's eyes widened.
"BWAH!"
SPLASH!
After the platform reset, Bint sputtered, "Follow-up: What do you have to say regarding Mr. Arc's polygamous relationship status then, Ms. Nereid!?" Maximum sarcasm dripped from every word.
"She's persistent," Jaune noted dryly.
"You have no idea," Pyrrha replied. She handed balls to Jaune. He dunked Bint again.
"PFFT! What about freedom of the press?!"
"You have plenty of freedoms," Pyrrha said sweetly. "Just not sure why you're wasting them on a cosplayer."
"Yeah," Jaune agreed.
They turned and walked off as onlookers laughed at the sputtering reporter. Jaune sighed.
"Geez…"
Pyrrha smiled softly. "Thanks, Jaune… Sorry about that."
"Nah… It's something we'll have to get used to, I guess."
"Yeah… But I'm okay as long as you're with me."
Jaune smiled back at her—that warm, caring smile that always made Pyrrha's heart skip. He leaned in for a quick peck. Pyrrha reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.
YES YES YES YES YESSSSSS! She thought happily.
From the tank, Bint gasped. She rumamged through her clothes... And found a spare camera. She grinned as she lifted it to her eyes.
"Yes! My break—!"
Her camera burst into flames. She yelped and tossed it into the water. Glaring daggers, she spotted Xander standing in front of the tank, smiling… and holding a ball.
"...You wouldn't dare—!"
Xander threw. Down Bint went again.
He sighed and shook his head. "She's not much better in the future."
"Oh really?"
Xander tensed and looked back at Ren and Nora, both glaring at him. Nora was holding a giant plushy panda. He coughed. "Ahhhh… Hey. What a coincidence, seeing you guys here... Where my parents are!"
"You were told to stay at Beacon," Ren said flatly.
Xander shrugged.
"Ahhhh... Well..."
Pyrrha and Jaune's kiss ended. Both panting for breath, smiling, blushing...
Xander winced. He looked back over at his aunt and uncle.
"So... Um... Could you guys please not say anything and maybe let me go?"
"No," Ren stated. Ren marched Xander over to his parents.
Bint was lifted back once more, ranting and wailing.
"HEY! Get me out of here! You can't just hold me here! GET ME OUT!"
Nora handed over more Lien. She took the balls and threw them, hard. All three hit the target and once more, Bint was dunked.
"BWAHHH!"
Dragon Bob
Electrical Dragon
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Honestly you've got to respect the hustle of Bint. She got in the dunk tank and was still asking questions while being dunked. She adapted well to the claim of being someone else and still asked her questions.
You can see how she could become a big journalist. Heck direct that drive against someone actually doing something wrong and she'd be considered a hero.
Of course, that's how drive works direct it to a good end and you are a good person direct it towards a bad end and you are a bad person.
You can see how she could become a big journalist. Heck direct that drive against someone actually doing something wrong and she'd be considered a hero.
Of course, that's how drive works direct it to a good end and you are a good person direct it towards a bad end and you are a bad person.
Glimpses Into Another Time: Yang: Dealing with Ruby
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AndrewJTalon
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Radian, Vale
Eight years after Salem's defeat
- - -
The rain drummed steadily against the roof of the cozy house Jaune had built with his own hands years ago, a sturdy place tucked into the Arc lands inRadian. Warm lamplight spilled across wooden beams, mismatched rugs, and the kind of clutter that only comes from children and love and too many people trying to live full lives under one roof. Yang sat in the big rocking chair Jaune had carved for her, Baby Pyrrha nestled against her chest, tiny fists clutching the front of Yang's oversized sweater. The little girl babbled softly—"Mah… bah… bwam!"—and Yang rocked on, slow and steady, eyes fixed on the front door.
Xia, their eldest, kept peeking around the corner from the hallway, clutching her stuffed Ursa. "Mama… when's Auntie Ruby coming home?"
Yang forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes but was good enough for a four-year-old. "Soon, Firelight. Soon." The last word slipped out quieter, almost lost under the rain.
Xia pouted dramatically. "She's so cool!"
Pyrrha blew a raspberry in agreement.
The front door finally creaked open. Jaune stepped inside, soaked through, blond hair plastered to his forehead—and Ruby cradled in his arms like a bride who'd forgotten how to walk.
Ruby's face was scarlet. "Jaune! I can walk just fine!"
"Yeah," he said, kicking the door shut behind him, "and you're not supposed to be walking at all."
The scars across his neck and chest—bite marks from Yang's dragon form in the worst days, claw gouges from Cinder's final, desperate swing—stood out stark under the lamplight. He still smiled, though, exasperated and fond in equal measure as he set Ruby gently on the couch.
"DADA!" Xia launched herself at him.
Jaune laughed, scooped her up after depositing Ruby, and hugged her tight. "You stay," he told Ruby, pointing one long finger.
"I'm not gonna—"
"You stay."
Ruby pouted harder than Xia ever had.
Xia immediately clambered into Ruby's lap. "Auntie Ruby! Tell me more stories!"
Ruby hesitated, then softened. "Well… I could tell you about this Arachne I fought once…"
Yang caught Jaune's eye over their daughter's head. He gave her the grim little nod they'd developed over years of silent communication: She's doing it again.
Yang clenched her fist until her knuckles whitened. Scales flickered briefly across her forearm—black and shimmering—before she forced a slow breath and watched them fade.
She mouthed, I'll talk to her.
Jaune mouthed back, I know.
He crossed to her, kissed her cheek, ran a gentle hand over Pyrrha's downy head and then over Yang's swollen belly. Yang gripped his fingers hard, leaning into the touch like it was the only solid thing in the room.
Pyrrha nuzzled between her parents.
Yang smiled despite everything. "She almost called me 'mom' again."
Jaune's eyes lit up. "Really?!" He knelt down and held his daughter with a grin.
"Come on, Pyr… Dada! You can say it. Dada!"
"Daaaa… Dwah… Pffft!"
Yang laughed softly. "Yeah. I'd say that counts."
Jaune sighed, mock-tragic. "One day…"
Xia piped up immediately. "Dada! I said it! Can I have ice cream?"
"Sure, sweetie." He lifted Pyrrha into his arms and let Xia take his hand, leading them both toward the kitchen. "Chocolate?"
"Chocolate!"
Ruby watched them go, expression caught somewhere between wistful and guilty.
Yang turned to her sister, channeling every ounce of disappointed-big-sister energy she possessed. "So. Have you got anything to say for yourself, young lady?"
Ruby blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, is that how you wanna play this?"
Ruby tried innocence. "Play what? I don't know what you're talking about."
Yang took a long, slow breath—careful, deliberate, because the baby (babies, her brain corrected smugly) did not need her losing her temper.
"We agreed—after your stitches popped earlier this week—that you were staying in bed until we were sure they wouldn't open again."
Ruby shifted. "I just… heard about a Grimm sighting outside the main wall. Papa Nick's still laid up! I could've—"
"Ruby." Yang's voice dropped. "That's what the town militia is for. They're trained. And if it gets bad, one call and Jaune or Izzy or half a dozen others handle it. You are on medical leave. That means no work. I cannot stress this enough."
Ruby scowled. "I don't want to sit around! There's always something to do! We saved the world—"
Yang's hand slammed down on the armrest. Claws gouged deep furrows into the wood. Her eyes flashed slitted gold. "YES. AND THAT WAS THEN. THIS IS NOW. WE EARNED OUR REST, RUBY. THE WORLD IS SAFE."
Ruby shot to her feet. "NO IT ISN'T! It will never be safe! We learned that the hard way! There's always another battle, another threat—the work is never done! IT WILL NEVER BE DONE!"
Yang's horns began to push through. Her voice deepened, edged with smoke. "AND YOU THINK FACING IT ALONE, HALF-DEAD, WILL FIX ANYTHING? NEWS FLASH, RUBY—IT TOOK ALL OF US TO DO WHAT WE DID, AND THAT WAS WHEN WE WERE AT OUR BEST!"
"Yang! Stop! You're pregnant—you'll hurt the baby!"
Yang gripped the chair until the wood groaned. She forced breath after scalding breath until the scales receded to scattered patches, claws stayed half-extended, eyes still slitted. "Haaa… thanks."
Ruby's voice cracked. "Yang… why are you so angry? I'm doing this for you. For all of you. It's what I have to do."
Yang shook her head, bewildered and hurting. "What could possibly make you think I'd want my sister to die?"
Ruby looked away. "I… what do I have? It's all I have. It's all Mom had in the end. To be a hero…"
"Summer wouldn't have wanted this." Tears slipped down Yang's cheeks.
Ruby's voice broke. "SUMMER ABANDONED US TO BE A HERO! I saw it… in the Ever After…"
Yang stared. "…What?"
"That's what I saw in the Ponderstorm. She ran off to fight Salem alone!"
Yang exhaled slowly. "Ruby. That's not how Mom died."
"IT IS! I SAW IT!"
"The Ponderstorm lies, Ruby. It likes to screw with people. For fuck's sake, it tried to get Blake and Weiss together. Blake and Weiss."
Ruby's tears fell freely. "If I'm not a hero… what am I? What do I have left?"
Yang leaned forward. "You have us. You've always had us. This place has always been your home. But only if you let it—if you let us—be that for you."
Ruby sobbed. "I… I can't."
Yang grimaced. "Then I guess that's it." She lifted her head, tears gone, expression hard and determined. "Plan C it is."
Ruby blinked through tears. "H-huh…?"
Yang raised her voice toward the kitchen. "JAUNE! WE'RE GOING WITH PLAN C!"
Jaune reappeared in the doorway, concern etched deep. "Yang… are you sure?"
Yang nodded, mock-sorrowful. "Absolutely. She won't listen any other way."
Ruby's head whipped between them. "What is this? What's Plan C? And why does it involve Jaune?!"
Jaune took Yang's hand. "You know I love you. More than anything."
Yang squeezed back. "More than sure, my heart. You gave me your word. Arcs don't break promises." Her grin turned teasing. "Besides… don't think I haven't noticed you sneaking glances."
Jaune flushed. "They were only glances… but if this is what you want to save her? I'll do it."
Yang patted his shoulder, then smirked wider. "You're acting like you wouldn't love her just as much as you love me."
"I would. I swear."
Xia wandered back in, leading Pyrrha by the hand. "Mama…? Why were you yelling?"
Yang eased herself up and waddled over. "Nothing you need to worry about, Firelight. Just… last-minute travel arrangements." She glanced between her apprehensive husband and her very confused sister. "Your dad and Auntie Ruby are going on a little trip together."
Ruby blinked. "I am?"
Jaune scooped her up again. "We are."
He carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
Ruby blushed furiously. "W-where are you taking me?"
"The bed room," he stated. He burst in through the door and dropped her on the bed.
"ACK!" Ruby scowled. Jaune closed the door. He turned back to her.
"And we're gonna…?"
"Talk," Jaune said blandly, as he sat down next to her.
Ruby relaxed a fraction. "Oh. So we're just gonna hang out and chat like… like we used to."
"Yes…" Jaune reached out and drew her against his chest, holding her close. Ruby flushed.
"G-Geez Jaune… Do you have to be so… Clingy?"
"You haven't been hugged in a while have you?" Jaune asked. Ruby scowled.
"I… It's not important-"
"Ruby… what's this really about? Why are you so determined to get yourself killed?" He stroked her cheek. "I've been so scared for you. My best friend. Why?"
She melted against him despite herself. "Someone has to, Jaune. The world still needs heroes. And it's not like I'm doing anything else."
"That Ponderstorm really messed you up, huh?" He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't help you more. Yang and I got so wrapped up in each other… in surviving. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? You were stuck in a fairytale hell for twenty years. Yang was a dragon. I can't even look at dragonfruit the same way."
"Even so. You were our responsibility."
Ruby's eyes filled. "Don't you think I know Summer wasn't perfect? That just means I have to be. I have to be what she couldn't."
"You saved the world, Ruby. We all did. You can let go. You can enjoy it." He kissed her—soft, then deeper.
Ruby's brain short-circuited. She kissed back, hungry, helpless. Rose genes, damn them.
Jaune murmured against her lips, "Yang wanted me to do this…"
He nibbled down her neck, hands roaming, squeezing, claiming. Ruby straddled him, humming at the heat of him. "So… this is Plan C?"
He smacked her ass lightly. "Mmhm."
"EEP! And… And Yang knows?"
"Ruby," Jaune looked hurt, "Do you really think I would ever cheat on my wife?"
"B-But-How do we handle this?!" Ruby demanded. "D-Do you love us both? Marry us both? What if we have a kid or-"
"Ruby," Jaune whispered. He touched his forehead to hers. "We'll figure it out. I love you, you know?"
Ruby went bright red.
"M-Me?"
"Yes… And we can figure it out from there," he murmured. Ruby flushed.
"S-Still… Um… Are you sure-?"
Yang opened the door. She glared at Ruby intensely.
"Ruby? You're banging my husband or I'm beating you up."
Ruby flushed.
"Well… Um… If you're both fine with it-"
"More than fine," Yang growled. "Now get to it before I beat both your asses!"
She shut the door behind her. Ruby gulped. She sucked in a deep breath. She looked into Jaune's eyes.
"Then…"
- - -
One month later…
Isabel raised an eyebrow at the much more relaxed Ruby Rose sitting in front of her on the examination table. Yang, Jaune, and little Xia stood nearby, looking anxious. Despite the tension in the room, Isabel did manage a warm smile at the young savior of Remnant.
"Well… Congratulations, Ruby. You've conceived a child. You're pregnant!"
Ruby gasped, tears filled her eyes… And then she grinned.
"Oh!" She looked over at Yang and Jaune. "Plan "C'! Now I get it!"
Isabel very slowly turned to glare at Jaune and Yang, even as Xia giggled as Ruby pulled her into her lap.
"'Plan C'?"
"Just an… In-joke, Mom," Jaune explained.
"But it's definitely growing," Yang grinned.
Eight years after Salem's defeat
- - -
The rain drummed steadily against the roof of the cozy house Jaune had built with his own hands years ago, a sturdy place tucked into the Arc lands inRadian. Warm lamplight spilled across wooden beams, mismatched rugs, and the kind of clutter that only comes from children and love and too many people trying to live full lives under one roof. Yang sat in the big rocking chair Jaune had carved for her, Baby Pyrrha nestled against her chest, tiny fists clutching the front of Yang's oversized sweater. The little girl babbled softly—"Mah… bah… bwam!"—and Yang rocked on, slow and steady, eyes fixed on the front door.
Xia, their eldest, kept peeking around the corner from the hallway, clutching her stuffed Ursa. "Mama… when's Auntie Ruby coming home?"
Yang forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes but was good enough for a four-year-old. "Soon, Firelight. Soon." The last word slipped out quieter, almost lost under the rain.
Xia pouted dramatically. "She's so cool!"
Pyrrha blew a raspberry in agreement.
The front door finally creaked open. Jaune stepped inside, soaked through, blond hair plastered to his forehead—and Ruby cradled in his arms like a bride who'd forgotten how to walk.
Ruby's face was scarlet. "Jaune! I can walk just fine!"
"Yeah," he said, kicking the door shut behind him, "and you're not supposed to be walking at all."
The scars across his neck and chest—bite marks from Yang's dragon form in the worst days, claw gouges from Cinder's final, desperate swing—stood out stark under the lamplight. He still smiled, though, exasperated and fond in equal measure as he set Ruby gently on the couch.
"DADA!" Xia launched herself at him.
Jaune laughed, scooped her up after depositing Ruby, and hugged her tight. "You stay," he told Ruby, pointing one long finger.
"I'm not gonna—"
"You stay."
Ruby pouted harder than Xia ever had.
Xia immediately clambered into Ruby's lap. "Auntie Ruby! Tell me more stories!"
Ruby hesitated, then softened. "Well… I could tell you about this Arachne I fought once…"
Yang caught Jaune's eye over their daughter's head. He gave her the grim little nod they'd developed over years of silent communication: She's doing it again.
Yang clenched her fist until her knuckles whitened. Scales flickered briefly across her forearm—black and shimmering—before she forced a slow breath and watched them fade.
She mouthed, I'll talk to her.
Jaune mouthed back, I know.
He crossed to her, kissed her cheek, ran a gentle hand over Pyrrha's downy head and then over Yang's swollen belly. Yang gripped his fingers hard, leaning into the touch like it was the only solid thing in the room.
Pyrrha nuzzled between her parents.
Yang smiled despite everything. "She almost called me 'mom' again."
Jaune's eyes lit up. "Really?!" He knelt down and held his daughter with a grin.
"Come on, Pyr… Dada! You can say it. Dada!"
"Daaaa… Dwah… Pffft!"
Yang laughed softly. "Yeah. I'd say that counts."
Jaune sighed, mock-tragic. "One day…"
Xia piped up immediately. "Dada! I said it! Can I have ice cream?"
"Sure, sweetie." He lifted Pyrrha into his arms and let Xia take his hand, leading them both toward the kitchen. "Chocolate?"
"Chocolate!"
Ruby watched them go, expression caught somewhere between wistful and guilty.
Yang turned to her sister, channeling every ounce of disappointed-big-sister energy she possessed. "So. Have you got anything to say for yourself, young lady?"
Ruby blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, is that how you wanna play this?"
Ruby tried innocence. "Play what? I don't know what you're talking about."
Yang took a long, slow breath—careful, deliberate, because the baby (babies, her brain corrected smugly) did not need her losing her temper.
"We agreed—after your stitches popped earlier this week—that you were staying in bed until we were sure they wouldn't open again."
Ruby shifted. "I just… heard about a Grimm sighting outside the main wall. Papa Nick's still laid up! I could've—"
"Ruby." Yang's voice dropped. "That's what the town militia is for. They're trained. And if it gets bad, one call and Jaune or Izzy or half a dozen others handle it. You are on medical leave. That means no work. I cannot stress this enough."
Ruby scowled. "I don't want to sit around! There's always something to do! We saved the world—"
Yang's hand slammed down on the armrest. Claws gouged deep furrows into the wood. Her eyes flashed slitted gold. "YES. AND THAT WAS THEN. THIS IS NOW. WE EARNED OUR REST, RUBY. THE WORLD IS SAFE."
Ruby shot to her feet. "NO IT ISN'T! It will never be safe! We learned that the hard way! There's always another battle, another threat—the work is never done! IT WILL NEVER BE DONE!"
Yang's horns began to push through. Her voice deepened, edged with smoke. "AND YOU THINK FACING IT ALONE, HALF-DEAD, WILL FIX ANYTHING? NEWS FLASH, RUBY—IT TOOK ALL OF US TO DO WHAT WE DID, AND THAT WAS WHEN WE WERE AT OUR BEST!"
"Yang! Stop! You're pregnant—you'll hurt the baby!"
Yang gripped the chair until the wood groaned. She forced breath after scalding breath until the scales receded to scattered patches, claws stayed half-extended, eyes still slitted. "Haaa… thanks."
Ruby's voice cracked. "Yang… why are you so angry? I'm doing this for you. For all of you. It's what I have to do."
Yang shook her head, bewildered and hurting. "What could possibly make you think I'd want my sister to die?"
Ruby looked away. "I… what do I have? It's all I have. It's all Mom had in the end. To be a hero…"
"Summer wouldn't have wanted this." Tears slipped down Yang's cheeks.
Ruby's voice broke. "SUMMER ABANDONED US TO BE A HERO! I saw it… in the Ever After…"
Yang stared. "…What?"
"That's what I saw in the Ponderstorm. She ran off to fight Salem alone!"
Yang exhaled slowly. "Ruby. That's not how Mom died."
"IT IS! I SAW IT!"
"The Ponderstorm lies, Ruby. It likes to screw with people. For fuck's sake, it tried to get Blake and Weiss together. Blake and Weiss."
Ruby's tears fell freely. "If I'm not a hero… what am I? What do I have left?"
Yang leaned forward. "You have us. You've always had us. This place has always been your home. But only if you let it—if you let us—be that for you."
Ruby sobbed. "I… I can't."
Yang grimaced. "Then I guess that's it." She lifted her head, tears gone, expression hard and determined. "Plan C it is."
Ruby blinked through tears. "H-huh…?"
Yang raised her voice toward the kitchen. "JAUNE! WE'RE GOING WITH PLAN C!"
Jaune reappeared in the doorway, concern etched deep. "Yang… are you sure?"
Yang nodded, mock-sorrowful. "Absolutely. She won't listen any other way."
Ruby's head whipped between them. "What is this? What's Plan C? And why does it involve Jaune?!"
Jaune took Yang's hand. "You know I love you. More than anything."
Yang squeezed back. "More than sure, my heart. You gave me your word. Arcs don't break promises." Her grin turned teasing. "Besides… don't think I haven't noticed you sneaking glances."
Jaune flushed. "They were only glances… but if this is what you want to save her? I'll do it."
Yang patted his shoulder, then smirked wider. "You're acting like you wouldn't love her just as much as you love me."
"I would. I swear."
Xia wandered back in, leading Pyrrha by the hand. "Mama…? Why were you yelling?"
Yang eased herself up and waddled over. "Nothing you need to worry about, Firelight. Just… last-minute travel arrangements." She glanced between her apprehensive husband and her very confused sister. "Your dad and Auntie Ruby are going on a little trip together."
Ruby blinked. "I am?"
Jaune scooped her up again. "We are."
He carried her upstairs to the bedroom.
Ruby blushed furiously. "W-where are you taking me?"
"The bed room," he stated. He burst in through the door and dropped her on the bed.
"ACK!" Ruby scowled. Jaune closed the door. He turned back to her.
"And we're gonna…?"
"Talk," Jaune said blandly, as he sat down next to her.
Ruby relaxed a fraction. "Oh. So we're just gonna hang out and chat like… like we used to."
"Yes…" Jaune reached out and drew her against his chest, holding her close. Ruby flushed.
"G-Geez Jaune… Do you have to be so… Clingy?"
"You haven't been hugged in a while have you?" Jaune asked. Ruby scowled.
"I… It's not important-"
"Ruby… what's this really about? Why are you so determined to get yourself killed?" He stroked her cheek. "I've been so scared for you. My best friend. Why?"
She melted against him despite herself. "Someone has to, Jaune. The world still needs heroes. And it's not like I'm doing anything else."
"That Ponderstorm really messed you up, huh?" He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry I didn't help you more. Yang and I got so wrapped up in each other… in surviving. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? You were stuck in a fairytale hell for twenty years. Yang was a dragon. I can't even look at dragonfruit the same way."
"Even so. You were our responsibility."
Ruby's eyes filled. "Don't you think I know Summer wasn't perfect? That just means I have to be. I have to be what she couldn't."
"You saved the world, Ruby. We all did. You can let go. You can enjoy it." He kissed her—soft, then deeper.
Ruby's brain short-circuited. She kissed back, hungry, helpless. Rose genes, damn them.
Jaune murmured against her lips, "Yang wanted me to do this…"
He nibbled down her neck, hands roaming, squeezing, claiming. Ruby straddled him, humming at the heat of him. "So… this is Plan C?"
He smacked her ass lightly. "Mmhm."
"EEP! And… And Yang knows?"
"Ruby," Jaune looked hurt, "Do you really think I would ever cheat on my wife?"
"B-But-How do we handle this?!" Ruby demanded. "D-Do you love us both? Marry us both? What if we have a kid or-"
"Ruby," Jaune whispered. He touched his forehead to hers. "We'll figure it out. I love you, you know?"
Ruby went bright red.
"M-Me?"
"Yes… And we can figure it out from there," he murmured. Ruby flushed.
"S-Still… Um… Are you sure-?"
Yang opened the door. She glared at Ruby intensely.
"Ruby? You're banging my husband or I'm beating you up."
Ruby flushed.
"Well… Um… If you're both fine with it-"
"More than fine," Yang growled. "Now get to it before I beat both your asses!"
She shut the door behind her. Ruby gulped. She sucked in a deep breath. She looked into Jaune's eyes.
"Then…"
- - -
One month later…
Isabel raised an eyebrow at the much more relaxed Ruby Rose sitting in front of her on the examination table. Yang, Jaune, and little Xia stood nearby, looking anxious. Despite the tension in the room, Isabel did manage a warm smile at the young savior of Remnant.
"Well… Congratulations, Ruby. You've conceived a child. You're pregnant!"
Ruby gasped, tears filled her eyes… And then she grinned.
"Oh!" She looked over at Yang and Jaune. "Plan "C'! Now I get it!"
Isabel very slowly turned to glare at Jaune and Yang, even as Xia giggled as Ruby pulled her into her lap.
"'Plan C'?"
"Just an… In-joke, Mom," Jaune explained.
"But it's definitely growing," Yang grinned.
Last edited:
Phoenix Invictus
Not too sore, are you?
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These two are perfect for each other.
Glimpses into Another Time: Arslan: Morality
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AndrewJTalon
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Hebei, Mistral
One year, six months after Vytal
- - -
The fire crackled low in the little clearing just outside Hebei. One year and six months after the chaos of the Vytal Festival, the group had fallen into a ragged but determined rhythm. Jaune sat sharpening Crocea Mors, Ruby poked at the embers with a stick, and the others lounged around the flames looking travel-worn and hungry.
"We're officially broke," Yang announced, shaking an empty coin purse. "Like, 'can't even buy stale bread' broke."
Ruby perked up. "Then it's simple! We hunt Grimm! There's probably a bounty board in town. Easy Lien, right?"
Arslan, cross-legged, shook her head. "We don't have licenses for that here. The local guild is strict. They'd fine us before we even drew our weapons."
Nora bounced on her heels. "We could just do odd jobs on the side like we used to! Delivery runs, chopping wood, beating up local thugs—classic stuff!"
"Doesn't give us money fast enough," Yang pointed out.
Pyrrha sighed. "The CCT network is still down. Weiss and I can't access our accounts."
Weiss crossed her arms. "Even if we could, most of my assets are frozen anyway."
Ren offered quietly, "We can always do honest chores. Dishwashing. Stable work. It's slow, but reliable."
"Boring!" Nora and Yang said at the exact same time.
Jaune stared into the fire for a long moment, then spoke.
"…We could do scams."
The entire camp went dead silent. Eight pairs of eyes turned toward him in shock.
Ren was the first to recover. He shrugged. "We've done it plenty of times before."
Nora's face lit up like the sun. "Yes! I'm in!"
Arslan's expression darkened. "Jaune. Theft is against the Commandments."
Jaune winced but held firm. "I know. But we need to reach Haven. We need to save the world. Sometimes… the greater good requires bending the rules a little."
Arslan sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. "Aslan forgive us. Fine. We could try asking for donations first. Honestly. Like pilgrims."
The streets of Hebei were busy but not generous.
Ruby planted herself in front of a middle-aged merchant. "Excuse me, sir! We're trying to save the world! Could you spare some Lien?"
The man snorted and kept walking.
Nora popped up next, waving enthusiastically. "Fund to save the world! Donations welcome!"
The woman didn't even slow down.
Pyrrha approached the third man with perfect poise and her warmest smile. "Good day. We're on a vital mission to protect Remnant. Any assistance would be deeply appreciated."
The guy grunted.
"I've heard that one before, kid." He walked off.
Ruby looked back at the group, crestfallen. Nora stood proudly beside her, holding up a handmade sign that read HELP US SAVE THE WORLD! Ruby's own sign was slightly crooked but enthusiastic.
Arslan facepalmed. Weiss did the same a second later.
Arslan sighed and looked over at Jaune. "We will do penance later."
"Totally!" Jaune agreed, already looking guilty.
Later that afternoon…
Ruby stepped boldly into the road in front of a slow-moving cart. She timed it perfectly—dramatic gasp, theatrical fall, dramatic cry of pain as the driver slammed on the brakes.
The driver leaped down, horrified. "Oh no! Are you all right, child?!"
Arslan appeared from around the corner like a vision of mercy, robes fluttering. "Good sir! You have struck this poor innocent girl! But fear not—I am a healer. I can mend her… for a small donation to cover medical supplies, of course."
The driver, pale and panicking, thrust a handful of Lien into her hands. Arslan scooped Ruby up with surprising gentleness and carried her into the nearest alley.
Once safely out of sight, Arslan set Ruby down. Ruby dusted herself off with a sheepish grin.
"Thanks. I feel kinda bad about that one."
Arslan sighed heavily. "I don't like this. Not at all."
Ruby nodded. "Yeah, but… we're trying to save the world."
From deeper in the alley came the sound of running feet. Pyrrha, Jaune, Yang, Weiss, Ren, and Nora skidded around the corner, breathless.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. "Jaune?"
Jaune held up a jingling pouch, grinning nervously. "Good news! We have the money we need. Bad news? We need to run. Right now."
From the street behind them came the angry roar of a mob.
"CHEATERS!"
Arslan closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer. "Aslan forgive us…"
Weiss pointed an accusatory finger. "It was all Pyrrha's fault!"
Pyrrha, already sprinting ahead with the rest of them, called back over her shoulder, "Sorrryyyy!"
One year, six months after Vytal
- - -
The fire crackled low in the little clearing just outside Hebei. One year and six months after the chaos of the Vytal Festival, the group had fallen into a ragged but determined rhythm. Jaune sat sharpening Crocea Mors, Ruby poked at the embers with a stick, and the others lounged around the flames looking travel-worn and hungry.
"We're officially broke," Yang announced, shaking an empty coin purse. "Like, 'can't even buy stale bread' broke."
Ruby perked up. "Then it's simple! We hunt Grimm! There's probably a bounty board in town. Easy Lien, right?"
Arslan, cross-legged, shook her head. "We don't have licenses for that here. The local guild is strict. They'd fine us before we even drew our weapons."
Nora bounced on her heels. "We could just do odd jobs on the side like we used to! Delivery runs, chopping wood, beating up local thugs—classic stuff!"
"Doesn't give us money fast enough," Yang pointed out.
Pyrrha sighed. "The CCT network is still down. Weiss and I can't access our accounts."
Weiss crossed her arms. "Even if we could, most of my assets are frozen anyway."
Ren offered quietly, "We can always do honest chores. Dishwashing. Stable work. It's slow, but reliable."
"Boring!" Nora and Yang said at the exact same time.
Jaune stared into the fire for a long moment, then spoke.
"…We could do scams."
The entire camp went dead silent. Eight pairs of eyes turned toward him in shock.
Ren was the first to recover. He shrugged. "We've done it plenty of times before."
Nora's face lit up like the sun. "Yes! I'm in!"
Arslan's expression darkened. "Jaune. Theft is against the Commandments."
Jaune winced but held firm. "I know. But we need to reach Haven. We need to save the world. Sometimes… the greater good requires bending the rules a little."
Arslan sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. "Aslan forgive us. Fine. We could try asking for donations first. Honestly. Like pilgrims."
The streets of Hebei were busy but not generous.
Ruby planted herself in front of a middle-aged merchant. "Excuse me, sir! We're trying to save the world! Could you spare some Lien?"
The man snorted and kept walking.
Nora popped up next, waving enthusiastically. "Fund to save the world! Donations welcome!"
The woman didn't even slow down.
Pyrrha approached the third man with perfect poise and her warmest smile. "Good day. We're on a vital mission to protect Remnant. Any assistance would be deeply appreciated."
The guy grunted.
"I've heard that one before, kid." He walked off.
Ruby looked back at the group, crestfallen. Nora stood proudly beside her, holding up a handmade sign that read HELP US SAVE THE WORLD! Ruby's own sign was slightly crooked but enthusiastic.
Arslan facepalmed. Weiss did the same a second later.
Arslan sighed and looked over at Jaune. "We will do penance later."
"Totally!" Jaune agreed, already looking guilty.
Later that afternoon…
Ruby stepped boldly into the road in front of a slow-moving cart. She timed it perfectly—dramatic gasp, theatrical fall, dramatic cry of pain as the driver slammed on the brakes.
The driver leaped down, horrified. "Oh no! Are you all right, child?!"
Arslan appeared from around the corner like a vision of mercy, robes fluttering. "Good sir! You have struck this poor innocent girl! But fear not—I am a healer. I can mend her… for a small donation to cover medical supplies, of course."
The driver, pale and panicking, thrust a handful of Lien into her hands. Arslan scooped Ruby up with surprising gentleness and carried her into the nearest alley.
Once safely out of sight, Arslan set Ruby down. Ruby dusted herself off with a sheepish grin.
"Thanks. I feel kinda bad about that one."
Arslan sighed heavily. "I don't like this. Not at all."
Ruby nodded. "Yeah, but… we're trying to save the world."
From deeper in the alley came the sound of running feet. Pyrrha, Jaune, Yang, Weiss, Ren, and Nora skidded around the corner, breathless.
Arslan raised an eyebrow. "Jaune?"
Jaune held up a jingling pouch, grinning nervously. "Good news! We have the money we need. Bad news? We need to run. Right now."
From the street behind them came the angry roar of a mob.
"CHEATERS!"
Arslan closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer. "Aslan forgive us…"
Weiss pointed an accusatory finger. "It was all Pyrrha's fault!"
Pyrrha, already sprinting ahead with the rest of them, called back over her shoulder, "Sorrryyyy!"
TheFabulousCustodes
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Sun - "First time, huh?"
Arslan's list for confession will reach under and out the door.....
Glimpses Into Another Time: Weiss: Victory Day
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AndrewJTalon
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New Atlas, Atlas
Six Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
New Atlas sparkled under clear skies on Victory Day. The central square—once a crater of war—now gleamed with fresh stone and banners of every Kingdom. At its heart stood the new memorial: a towering statue of intertwined figures, heroes and ordinary souls frozen in defiance. Pyrrha's likeness held her spear high beside Nick Arc's, among many others who hadn't made it home.
Weiss Schnee-Arc stood at the edge of the stage area, elegant in white and pale blue, one hand resting protectively on the small of her back where their son's handprint still lingered from that morning's goodbye hug. She watched Jaune with quiet concern. Six years had healed many wounds, but some scars ran deeper than anything could reach.
"Jaune," she said softly as they waited for their cue, squeezing his hand. "You've been through so much. Suffered so much. You don't have to—"
He squeezed back, thumb brushing over her wedding ring. "I'm all right, Weiss. I can do this." His smile was tired but genuine. "I have to do this. For them. For us."
High Councillor Henry Marigold—once an empty-headed dandy, now a steadier man tempered by war—smiled warmly as he stepped aside from the podium. The crowd roared as Jaune and Weiss ascended the steps together, her hand never leaving his.
"Atlasians… People of Remnant…" Jaune began, voice carrying across the square.
He glanced at his Scroll—and paled. Weiss looked over his shoulder and her eyes minutely widened.
The speech was gone. Deleted, corrupted, vanished into the digital ether.
Weiss moved instantly, ready to step forward and take over, but Jaune shook his head. He cleared his throat, looked out at the sea of faces, and spoke from memory and heart instead.
"Throughout the events of human and Faunus history, we have always dealt with the Darkness that threatened to engulf us all. A Darkness of the Grimm… and a darkness in ourselves. We had to fight that—inside and out—to end this war. It cost us… It cost us all dearly. Some more than others."
It was like he could feel Nick and Pyrrha's gazes on him.
His hand trembled in Weiss's grasp. She held it tighter, steady and warm. Jaune kept going, voice thickening but never breaking.
"It's easy to say that sacrifices are necessary to secure victory. To survive. To live. And that… that is true. It is easy to say. It is harder to go through it. That doesn't change that the sacrifice has to be made. It is easy to fall into darkness, into despair, as the losses pile up and you lose so much…"
He bowed his head for a moment, the weight of Pyrrha, his father, and countless others pressing down. Weiss's thumb stroked the back of his hand. He lifted his gaze again, found her eyes, and drew strength from the quiet love there. She smiled. He smiled back.
"I was alone for a very, very long time," he continued, voice growing stronger, "only the faint hope of seeing my friends keeping me going. Only the hope of victory. And that is what we won… A victory. And victories need to be celebrated!"
A cheer erupted from the crowd.
"And this… This is a victory! Every day I wake up with my wife. Every day I see my beautiful little boy… Every day the sun rises… I know it was worth it. The pain… The pain may not go away… But it doesn't change the fact that you've saved others from worse pains. For that reason did me, my friends, and everyone who fought in that war—whether they were on the front lines or behind them, shooting, swinging a sword, praying, or anything else… We fought together. We bled together… And the sun rose again. We made that happen… So don't forget that. Through all the pain and loss… That sun is still rising. And where there's life? There's hope."
The square fell silent for a heartbeat—then exploded into thunderous applause and cheers that rolled like waves across New Atlas.
Jaune nodded once, humble and exhausted, as Weiss guided him gently off the stage behind the curtains. The moment they were out of sight he let out a long breath and chuckled shakily.
"Phew… That was tough."
Weiss looked up at him, eyes shining with pride and worry. "I could have handled that, you know."
"I know, sweetie… I know." He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "But I want to inspire hope, Weiss. Like you do for me… every single day."
Weiss's cheeks flushed that familiar, beautiful Schnee pink. Without another word she rose on her toes and kissed him soundly—fierce, grateful, full of everything she couldn't say in front of the crowd. Jaune melted into it, arms wrapping around her as the roar of the celebration continued just beyond the curtain.
For a moment, in the quiet space behind the stage, the weight of the world lifted. There was only the two of them, their son waiting at home, and the sun still rising on a future they had fought to keep.
Six Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
New Atlas sparkled under clear skies on Victory Day. The central square—once a crater of war—now gleamed with fresh stone and banners of every Kingdom. At its heart stood the new memorial: a towering statue of intertwined figures, heroes and ordinary souls frozen in defiance. Pyrrha's likeness held her spear high beside Nick Arc's, among many others who hadn't made it home.
Weiss Schnee-Arc stood at the edge of the stage area, elegant in white and pale blue, one hand resting protectively on the small of her back where their son's handprint still lingered from that morning's goodbye hug. She watched Jaune with quiet concern. Six years had healed many wounds, but some scars ran deeper than anything could reach.
"Jaune," she said softly as they waited for their cue, squeezing his hand. "You've been through so much. Suffered so much. You don't have to—"
He squeezed back, thumb brushing over her wedding ring. "I'm all right, Weiss. I can do this." His smile was tired but genuine. "I have to do this. For them. For us."
High Councillor Henry Marigold—once an empty-headed dandy, now a steadier man tempered by war—smiled warmly as he stepped aside from the podium. The crowd roared as Jaune and Weiss ascended the steps together, her hand never leaving his.
"Atlasians… People of Remnant…" Jaune began, voice carrying across the square.
He glanced at his Scroll—and paled. Weiss looked over his shoulder and her eyes minutely widened.
The speech was gone. Deleted, corrupted, vanished into the digital ether.
Weiss moved instantly, ready to step forward and take over, but Jaune shook his head. He cleared his throat, looked out at the sea of faces, and spoke from memory and heart instead.
"Throughout the events of human and Faunus history, we have always dealt with the Darkness that threatened to engulf us all. A Darkness of the Grimm… and a darkness in ourselves. We had to fight that—inside and out—to end this war. It cost us… It cost us all dearly. Some more than others."
It was like he could feel Nick and Pyrrha's gazes on him.
His hand trembled in Weiss's grasp. She held it tighter, steady and warm. Jaune kept going, voice thickening but never breaking.
"It's easy to say that sacrifices are necessary to secure victory. To survive. To live. And that… that is true. It is easy to say. It is harder to go through it. That doesn't change that the sacrifice has to be made. It is easy to fall into darkness, into despair, as the losses pile up and you lose so much…"
He bowed his head for a moment, the weight of Pyrrha, his father, and countless others pressing down. Weiss's thumb stroked the back of his hand. He lifted his gaze again, found her eyes, and drew strength from the quiet love there. She smiled. He smiled back.
"I was alone for a very, very long time," he continued, voice growing stronger, "only the faint hope of seeing my friends keeping me going. Only the hope of victory. And that is what we won… A victory. And victories need to be celebrated!"
A cheer erupted from the crowd.
"And this… This is a victory! Every day I wake up with my wife. Every day I see my beautiful little boy… Every day the sun rises… I know it was worth it. The pain… The pain may not go away… But it doesn't change the fact that you've saved others from worse pains. For that reason did me, my friends, and everyone who fought in that war—whether they were on the front lines or behind them, shooting, swinging a sword, praying, or anything else… We fought together. We bled together… And the sun rose again. We made that happen… So don't forget that. Through all the pain and loss… That sun is still rising. And where there's life? There's hope."
The square fell silent for a heartbeat—then exploded into thunderous applause and cheers that rolled like waves across New Atlas.
Jaune nodded once, humble and exhausted, as Weiss guided him gently off the stage behind the curtains. The moment they were out of sight he let out a long breath and chuckled shakily.
"Phew… That was tough."
Weiss looked up at him, eyes shining with pride and worry. "I could have handled that, you know."
"I know, sweetie… I know." He cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen. "But I want to inspire hope, Weiss. Like you do for me… every single day."
Weiss's cheeks flushed that familiar, beautiful Schnee pink. Without another word she rose on her toes and kissed him soundly—fierce, grateful, full of everything she couldn't say in front of the crowd. Jaune melted into it, arms wrapping around her as the roar of the celebration continued just beyond the curtain.
For a moment, in the quiet space behind the stage, the weight of the world lifted. There was only the two of them, their son waiting at home, and the sun still rising on a future they had fought to keep.
QuestOverlord
Now draw her giving birth!
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This is fantastic, read this whole thing in five days, why aren't there more watchers on here?
Glimpses Into Another Time: Winter: Prodigal Son
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AndrewJTalon
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In the vicinity of Vacuo City, Western Sanus.
1 year and 8 months after the Vytal Festival Tournament.
- - -
The transition from the surreal Ever After back to Remnant felt like stepping through a dream and waking into noise and heat. Vacuo's streets were alive with movement—soldiers from Atlas, Vale, Mistral, and Vacuo itself gathered in every square and rooftop, banners fluttering, voices overlapping in a dozen languages. The city was crowded beyond belief, yet somehow still standing.
Jaune walked beside Winter, Ruby and Yang flanking them, Weiss close on her sister's other side. Blake moved a little more quietly beside them, while Nora and Ren brought up the rear after their long talk with Ozpin. The weight of everything they'd seen and lost still pressed on them, but they were home.
Then Jaune froze mid-step.
Through the press of bodies, a tall figure in full, battle-worn armor strode forward, a massive sword slung across his back. Beside him walked a smaller, curvy woman in elegant white and blue, a shawl draped over her distinctive white hair. The knight escorted her protectively through the crowd.
Winter and Weiss gasped at the same time.
"Mother!" Winter cried.
"Mother!" Weiss echoed.
Both Schnee sisters broke into a run, propriety forgotten in the dust and noise of Vacuo. Willow Schnee held out her arms and caught them both, pulling her daughters into a fierce, weeping embrace. For once, the Schnee name meant nothing—only family, only relief, only joy after so much loss.
Jaune couldn't move. His eyes locked with the knight's. The man stopped, staring back. With the helmet on, even with polished armor, the resemblance to the Rusted Knight was uncanny. Ruby and Yang stepped closer, each squeezing one of Jaune's arms in silent support. Blake gave him a small, encouraging smile from the side.
Jaune took a shaky breath and walked forward. Nick watched him approach, then slowly reached up and removed his helmet. His face—older, scarred, but unmistakably his father's—filled with emotion. Tears already glistened in his eyes.
"Dad… I…" Jaune's voice cracked. He clutched at his chest where the artificial heart his mother had built still beat steadily inside him. "Mom… she saved me, but… she…" His head bowed. "She died… because of me… I'm so sorry, Dad…"
Winter moved to his side without hesitation, slipping her hand into his and holding it tight. She looked up at Nick with quiet strength.
Nick stared at his son for a long moment, then pulled him into a crushing hug. His broad shoulders shook as soft sobs broke free.
"Son…" Nick whispered, voice thick. "Son… I am so glad you are alive… I missed you so much…"
"But—but I—" Jaune tried.
Nick held him tighter. "Your mother died saving you because she loved you. I would have done the same thing. Don't ever think any different, son."
Jaune broke. He pressed his face into his father's armored chest and cried—deep, wrenching sobs that had waited years to be released. Winter, Ruby, and Yang wrapped around him from behind, holding the family together in the middle of the crowded street. Weiss stood with her mother, Willow's arm around her shoulders, while Blake, Nora, and Ren watched with quiet, understanding eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loss didn't feel quite so impossible to carry.
1 year and 8 months after the Vytal Festival Tournament.
- - -
The transition from the surreal Ever After back to Remnant felt like stepping through a dream and waking into noise and heat. Vacuo's streets were alive with movement—soldiers from Atlas, Vale, Mistral, and Vacuo itself gathered in every square and rooftop, banners fluttering, voices overlapping in a dozen languages. The city was crowded beyond belief, yet somehow still standing.
Jaune walked beside Winter, Ruby and Yang flanking them, Weiss close on her sister's other side. Blake moved a little more quietly beside them, while Nora and Ren brought up the rear after their long talk with Ozpin. The weight of everything they'd seen and lost still pressed on them, but they were home.
Then Jaune froze mid-step.
Through the press of bodies, a tall figure in full, battle-worn armor strode forward, a massive sword slung across his back. Beside him walked a smaller, curvy woman in elegant white and blue, a shawl draped over her distinctive white hair. The knight escorted her protectively through the crowd.
Winter and Weiss gasped at the same time.
"Mother!" Winter cried.
"Mother!" Weiss echoed.
Both Schnee sisters broke into a run, propriety forgotten in the dust and noise of Vacuo. Willow Schnee held out her arms and caught them both, pulling her daughters into a fierce, weeping embrace. For once, the Schnee name meant nothing—only family, only relief, only joy after so much loss.
Jaune couldn't move. His eyes locked with the knight's. The man stopped, staring back. With the helmet on, even with polished armor, the resemblance to the Rusted Knight was uncanny. Ruby and Yang stepped closer, each squeezing one of Jaune's arms in silent support. Blake gave him a small, encouraging smile from the side.
Jaune took a shaky breath and walked forward. Nick watched him approach, then slowly reached up and removed his helmet. His face—older, scarred, but unmistakably his father's—filled with emotion. Tears already glistened in his eyes.
"Dad… I…" Jaune's voice cracked. He clutched at his chest where the artificial heart his mother had built still beat steadily inside him. "Mom… she saved me, but… she…" His head bowed. "She died… because of me… I'm so sorry, Dad…"
Winter moved to his side without hesitation, slipping her hand into his and holding it tight. She looked up at Nick with quiet strength.
Nick stared at his son for a long moment, then pulled him into a crushing hug. His broad shoulders shook as soft sobs broke free.
"Son…" Nick whispered, voice thick. "Son… I am so glad you are alive… I missed you so much…"
"But—but I—" Jaune tried.
Nick held him tighter. "Your mother died saving you because she loved you. I would have done the same thing. Don't ever think any different, son."
Jaune broke. He pressed his face into his father's armored chest and cried—deep, wrenching sobs that had waited years to be released. Winter, Ruby, and Yang wrapped around him from behind, holding the family together in the middle of the crowded street. Weiss stood with her mother, Willow's arm around her shoulders, while Blake, Nora, and Ren watched with quiet, understanding eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of loss didn't feel quite so impossible to carry.
Scroom
Getting sticky.
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