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[RWBY] The Great Temporal Step-Sibling War!

Glimpses Into Another Time: Blake: "Family" New
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.
 
Glimpses Into Another Time: Pyrrha: The Escape New
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".
 
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Dinner with the Kids New
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.
 
Old Comrades New
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."
 
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