[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

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

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

"Oh, hey, Velvet! What's—"

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

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

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

"Well, I was going to—"

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

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

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

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

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

"I… huh? Wait, tsundere—what?!"

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

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

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

"GOT IT?!"

"GOT IT! CRYSTAL CLEAR! MESSAGE RECEIVED!"

"GOOD!"

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

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

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

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

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

- - -

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

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

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

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

"Wh-What?!"

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

"It was wrong, and I—"

"YOU'RE BREAKING UP WITH ME?!"

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

Cardin's jaw dropped. "Huh?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lark shook his head. "No bet."

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

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

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

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

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

Cardin stared into the distance, voice hollow.

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

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

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

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

"Why is my life like this?"

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

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

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

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

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

Cardin snorted. "Sounds about right."

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

The other three turned to look at him.

"…That's it?" Sun asked.

Ren nodded once. "That's it."

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

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

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

Ren raised an eyebrow. Cardin scowled.

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

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

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

Sun coughed something that suspiciously sounded like 'tsundere.'

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

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

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

The silence that followed was loud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"…It's not that simple," he muttered.

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

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

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

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

He took a deep breath.

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

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

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

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

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

But the issue remained.

And he had a choice to make.

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

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