Vendetta543

An Arc for Every Season - Chapter 41

Next chapter for Seasons. Been a while, huh? Literally about two years. Hopefully people remember what this was about. The original plan before was to do another comedy chapter with apartment shenanigans, but given the time gap, I figured we needed some actual fucking plot. So yeah, enjoy. 

Patreon note - I've started taking my anxiety medication again. I'm hoping it'll improve my output. I remember a few years back when I updated every few days. I'm hoping to go back to that.

[line break]

Jaune always enjoyed camping ever since he was a kid. Domremy was a relatively big town - bigger than most settlements outside the walls - but it didn't have the modern luxuries of the kingdoms or kingdom-adjacent places like Patch or Argus. The CCT could be spotty, movies and games were weeks or months late, and comic books were pretty much a luxury you had to import from the kingdoms. He'd lost count of how much of his allowance he spent importing comics and games ahead of the usual supply caravans.

Which was why the thought of camping out in Mt. Glenn didn't really bother him. Ruby and Yang claimed they were outdoorsy types because they lived at a cabin in Patch, but their actual camping experience was staying out at a tent in their backyard. And Weiss? Forget about it. The only camping she ever did was going to one of her villa's climate controlled gardens and sleeping in the bungalows. Marble bungalows, because the Schnees never did anything halfway.

The only one who had any sort of camping experience was Blake. Say what you will about her - and he had a lot to say - but she knew rough living. Kuo Kuana wasn't exactly a luxury resort and the White Fang weren't welcome in any of the kingdoms; even Vacuo. They both knew how to set up proper camping sites, hunt, and field strip animals for cooking. Dad made sure all of his kids could survive out in the wilds and Jaune took to hunting the best compared to all his sisters. It reminded him of the fairy tale heroes he loved growing up.

Those same skills were about to be tested again.

Mt. Glenn's reclamation would take days, even with Maiden powers, and flying back and forth to the city (even with Ruby's Semblance) was impractical. So, camping it was. They got all the necessities ready. Tents, water, clothes, and...food. Alright, so they didn't get that part. He and Blake were so busy (while Ruby and Yang were talking with their dad and Uncle) that they figured it was harmless. Worse case scenario, Weiss would buy some stupidly expensive preserved stuff that they could still eat just fine.

They underestimated Weiss Schnee.

Now, they were huddled around a campfire digging into boxes of vegetable omelette MREs.

The mood over the group was dim and heavy. They were so assured by Weiss' confidence about how they'd love what she picked out that they didn't even double check what she bought. It was only after a day of hard Grimm killing (with Jaune boosting their magic) that they finally made camp at the outskirts and Weiss pulled out the packets that the situation became clear. His and Blake's face fell in mutual resignation while Ruby and Yang winced at the word Veggies. Cause apparently these two just relied on Aura for all their nutrional needs.

"It's not my fault!" Weiss said again, picking at her chunk of vomlette, "I assumed vegetable omelettes would be nutricious and healthy! It's an omelette and it was made by Atlas! How could anyone mess that up?!"

"Because Atlas sucks and hates their soldiers almost as much as they hate Faunus," Blake said. She didn't even attempt to touch her pile of green sludge, glaring at it like it personally offended her, "We had this back in the White Fang days. Even ADAM refused to eat it, and he's sustained by spite. Sienna actually used this to recruit people, saying that it shows Atlas' cruelty. We got two dozen more recruits just by making them smell it.

"Oh come on, now you're exagerrating!"

"I never lie, Weiss."

Jaune coughed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "bullshit" between his breath. Blake glared at him, "Blake's honesty aside, she's completely right about this." He held up the packet with a grimace, "This isn't edible, Weiss. My whole family ate this during our camping trip last year. Even dad gave up, and he's one of those salt of the earth types. He got halfway through before he gave up and took me hunting. Took us four hours while starving."

Ruby and Yang didn't say anything, but Yang was looking at a bottle of booze longingly while Ruby nibbled on a cookie like a chipmunk. Weiss looked at each them, trying to find an ally, before she eventually gave up and let her shoulders sag, "It's not my fault..." she said again.

Blake raised a brow, "Really? Fine then. Eat it. Just one bite and me and Jaune will take it all back." Jaune raised a brow. There she was speaking for him again, but he was too curious to call her out on it. Ruby and Yang looked at her expectantly too, four out of five members looking at the (former) heiress expectantly. Weiss took a deep, shuddering breath, she stabbled her spork (another cruelty) into the vomit and took out a tiny chunk of "omelette". She slowly raised it up to her mouth.

Then tossed the entire thing, spork and all, into the campfire.

"...Shut up," she said, glaring at them all, "We can just order food."

"Yeah, how? You think Yuber Eats delivers to abandoned cities full of Grimm?" Yang snorted.

"I can go hunting, but it's way too late now" Jaune said.

"Not a problem for me, but I'd rather not go out there alone," Blake said, "Besides, it's too late now. It'll take hours to skin and gut the thing, and it'll rot over the night unless we build a smoke rack. Me and Jaune can build a smoke rack tonight then hunt tomorrow." She paused, "Actually, you three should gather the materials. Don't have an axe, but Ruby's scythe should be good enough to cut some wood." Ruby looked offended at the idea of her precious baby being used like that, but her grumbling stomach kept her from arguing, "Weiss and Yang, you two can dig a pit. Should be about half a foot or a foot deep."

"And what will you two be doing while we do all this?" Weiss sniffed.

"Getting some rest so we can hunt tomorrow," Jaune said. For once, he and Blake were in full agreement, "We can hunt at first light tomorrow. With any luck, we can find something to eat before we all starve." Okay, that was an exagerration, but with their grumbling stomachs, no one was willing to argue. They all took one last look at the pile of garbage Weiss bought before they all collectively shivered and stuffed them out of sight. Yeah, that wasn't happening.

Weiss, Ruby, and Yang grumbled but went off anyway; Ruby to go chop up some wood and Weiss and Yang to go dig a pit. They didn't have a shovel, so Weiss summoned a giant spectral hand to carve up a piece of the earth. She still couldn't summon a full Arma Gigas, much to her frustration, but apparently the power of sheer spite and refusal to get her hands dirty was enough to let her get partway there. Meanwhile, Yang kept an eye out for Grimm, but she was gonna be disappointed if she was expecting a fight.

Jaune looked out to the ruins of Mt. Glenn. He'd read about Mt. Glenn in the history books back home. Vale's first attempt at expansion almost 20 years back that ended in catastrophic failure. Grimm suddenly surged en masse like like they were called in by a siren and the defenses weren't enough to hold back the tide. Eventually, even the evacuation was deemed a lost cause and the tunnels were collapsed...while people were still in them.

It was the most catastrophic loss for Vale since the Great War. Mt. Glenn, which was supposed to be a sign of Vale's independence and grit, ended up being a colossal failure. Vale left all the buildings and infastructure to rot, letting it fall back to nature...and the Grimm. It was the very picture of kingdom hubris. The council decided to just forget about it and leave it all to rot. Too much of a reminder of what they lost.

And whoever saved it would be the triumphant hero.

Not for the first time, Jaune found himself musing on how he got here. Just a year ago, he'd been nothing more than some dumb kid with dreams of heroism. He'd go to Beacon, get a badass Semblance, then go on and have adventures all across Remnant. Maybe he'd even get a girlfriend along the way. Or, as much as he hated to admit once wanting it, a harem of Huntresses. ...What? He was 17, sue him. Huntresses were the fantasy of every guy back in Domremy, more than even models and celebrities.

Then again, he'd gotten partway there.

His eyes shifted from the retaken clumps of remnant to Ruby. His amazing girlfriend. Some days, a part of him still couldn't believe he'd gotten this far, "You're staring," Blake said, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Would it be too much to hope that you two keep it in your pants this week?"

"Says the one who's been going at it with Yang?"

The slight blush on Blake's cheeks stuck out against her pale skin, "Sh-Shut up." She looked to the distance, supposedly to keep an eye on Grimm, "...You know, you're not the only one who lied to get here. When I first got into Beacon, I was shocked. I kept looking over my shoulder, sure they were going to find me. Especially when I got put into a team with Weiss." She gestured to the former heiress who was bickering with Yang since they (somehow) made the hole six feet deep, "This is the last thing I expected..."

"Any plans for Mt. Glenn when you guys clear out all the Grimm?" Blanche told them that team RWBY-J would have a lot of say once the reconstruction began. It was practical, he said. Getting them invested into the city's welfare ensured they'd stay to protect it and made sure it didn't just collapse all over again. And it'd entice more people to come if they figured that Mt. Glenn was under the direct protection of the Protectors of Vale.

"I...I don't." She shook her head, "When I left the White Fang, I didn't really have a real plan. Just...broad strokes, I guess." She waved a hand through the air idly, "Go to Beacon, become a Huntress, become a bridge between Human and Faunus. I realized pretty quick that was a pretty stupid plan." She laughed under her breath, "There's been Faunus Huntresses for decades now and it hasn't stopped people from being racist bastards. I was being so egotistical thinking I could be some kind of savior."

"I mean...you kinda are now. You're probably the most famous Faunus on Remnant."

"Because of power I didn't earn." She didn't sound bitter about it, more resigned.

"I dunno. Stopping your crazy ex from blowing up Vale's walls probably has more to do with it." Jaune smirked, "Come on, Blake. You have a LOT of flaws. I mean, there's so much that I'm surprised you can walk with how many they are. Seriously, how do you-"

"Jaune." Her eyes flared with purple fire.

"-but that only means you need to own the good things you've done," he finished smoothly.

"...You're racking up a debt, Arc. One I'm gonna pay back eventually. Ruby can't protect you forever."

"I think she'd disagree with you on that." He gestured to Ruby, who was cutting up the bark into thinner pieces.

"We're going hunting tomorrow. Alone. Be a real shame if you had an accident."

Jaune rolled his eyes and laughed before heading to his tent. They had three tents - one for him and Ruby, one for Blake and Yang, and the last one for Weiss. You could tell which one was her's since it was twice as big and colored an eye-searing white and blue. Could afford a fancy tent but not a good meal. As if hearing his thoughts, Weiss looked up from the 10 foot hole her summoned hand dug up and glared at him. He decided to go into his tent before all of team RWBY-J decided to bury him in that hole.

It didn't take him long after changing before his eyes got heavy. While RWBY were the ones doing the heavy lifting, he was still boosting them with his Semblance; which drained the hell out of him. But hey, it was worth it to see all of them coming down on hordes like goddesses of war. For even experienced Huntsmen, a pack of Goliaths would've been a big ask. For team RWBY, it took about as much time as them deciding which flavor of elemental exhaustion they wanted to use.

Minutes before before the zipper opened and Ruby hopped inside already in her pajamas. She scooted into his sleeping bag - completely ignoring her own - and squirmed between his arms until he was spooning her. Jaune smiled and nuzzled the back of her neck. Even after a whole day of Grimm smiting, the smell of her cherry perfume was still fresh. Ruby hummed and settled down to sleep, the two of them lulled by Yang and Weiss' argument outside.

[line break]

Hunting at first light ended up being the first time he didn't feel like a glorified buffbot since they showed up here. Jauune lay prone on the ground holding a rifle while Blake knelt next to him. A fair distance away, they saw a handful of deer grazing.

The sight of them eating grass, utterly ignored by the Grimm, while a crumbling building loomed in the background made for a stark image. How long would it take to rebuild this place, he wondered. Blanche said he planned to start off slow. All sorts of people would come here, he said. People from outside the walls, the poor, those looking for a second chance. Kingdoms guaranteed safety but space was limited and expensive. If Mt. Glenn could guarantee the same then people would fight to be here first.

Jaune tightened his grip on the hunting rifle. Even now, he wasn't exactly Huntsmen-tier, but just about every person back home knew how to use a rifle. Dad let him use his old one for both hunting and to take potshots at wandering Grimm over the walls. Honestly, he knew more about using this than a sword by the time he got into Beacon, but he couldn't afford a rifle. He couldn't even afford his own sword, let alone a gun.

He took a deep breath and looked through the scope. The deer was far enough away that it didn't notice them, "You sure you got this?" Blake murmured.

"Yeah. Don't worry." For once, he felt completely confident. He with the crosshairs over where the deer's heart was. Head or the heart, dad always told him. Make it quick and clean. Once he did the shot, the rest of the deer would scatter. Only one chance at this. He waited till the deer bent its head to feed again, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger.

The crack of the rifle almost seemed to echo across the empty landscape. The deer he targeted crumpled to the ground, blood pooling in the grass while the rest of the group scattered in a panic, "Good job." Blake smiled, looking completely sincere.

"Thanks." He stood up and slung the rifle across his back to join the shotgun he brought. He didn't have magic powers or the skills to fight a whole horde, so he improvised by being a walking armory. Right now he was packing his usual sword and shield plus a hunting rifle, assault rifle, shotgun, and some grenades and Dust vials. Might've seemed like overkill, but he wasn't taking any chances. Besides, it was good practice for learning to infuse Aura in a variety of weapons.

He and Blake grabbed two legs each and hauled the thing back to the camp's edge. Ruby, Yang, and Weiss looked up eagerly at the sight of them and the deer. Normally, Weiss would've found it distasteful - she was definitely a "don't see how the sausage is made" kind of gal - but hunger had a way of changing even the ice queen's mind.

"How long's this gonna take?" Yang asked as they set the dead animal down.

"About a couple of hours," Jaune said, "It'll go faster if we split the work. Blake, go prep the fire and skewers. I'll skin the deer and drain the blood. Maybe we can shave off half an hour." He knelt down and took out his combat knife. Weiss finally had the sense to look away, saying she was going to plan their Grimm extermination route. Yang went to help Blake with the fire while Ruby knelt down next to him, looking down at the clean shoot with obvious approval.

"Remind me again why you're not using a rifle?" Ruby asked with a smirk.

"I am."

"No, I mean as a main weapon." She leaned in closer till their shoulders were touching, lips curled in a smile. Which wasn't a good thing considering he was skinning a deer, but he wasn't gonna tell her to make space.

"Well...whoever heard of a knight who used their dad's hunting rifle?" He smiled back at her, his hands still skinning on autpilot, "Not exactly the knight of people's dreams, right?"

"You'd be the knight of my dreams." She fluttered her eyelashes at him and Jaune's face burned pink. Even now, seeing Ruby flirt still somehow managed to make him weak in his (normal) knees.

Weiss scoffed and made a sound like she was gagging, "Could you two please not flirt until after we've gotten something to eat?"

"Hey, it's not my fault all we have is trash!" Ruby shot back.

"For the last time, how was I supposed to know it'd taste so foul?!"

"It had veggies on the name!"

"We need to talk about your diet, Ruby! Cheeseburgers and cookies are not healthy, Aura or not!"

"I burn it off! My Semblance means I'm never gonna get fat!"

The two bickered about food while Jaune rolled his eyes and kept working. He wasn't gonna say it out loud, but he was almost glad for Weiss' horrible taste in rations. He actually felt useful, even if it was just to make sure that the rest of the team didn't starve to death or have to fly back to Vale for snacks with their tails between their legs. Better than just staying back and picking off the occasional beowolf or creep they missed.

A couple of hours later and they were eating fried deer. They were so hungry that even Weiss didn't seem to care that she was eating meat skewers; and this was the woman who used a fork and knife to eat pizza while Ruby looked at her like she was an alien, "Oh my god, this is so good~" Yang groaned, digging into a particularly large cut and holding it with her bare hands. Fat and juices dribbled down her chin, but she didn't care. Jaune thought about how the paparazzi would've loved this candid shot.

"...You know, I'm really happy," Ruby said suddenly. The four of them looked at her, "Back when I first got that offer from the headmaster to go to Beacon, I was excited, but also super nervous. I thought people would look at me like I was some kind of weirdo. Plus Yang ditched me." She glared at her older sister.

"Hey, I was trying to help you make friends!"

"It led to our rather explosive first meeting." Weiss rolled her eyes, biting into a skewer of thin meat, "Still, I wouldn't change anything for the world."

"While you guys were having adventures, I was getting called to the headmaster's office." Jaune stabbed another piece of meat and held it over the fire, "Honestly, I wonder how you four would've ended up if Ozpin didn't offer me that deal." Probably would've been fine. He was surplus to requirement.

"We probably would've blown up. Literally." Yang snorted, "Remember how bad Weiss cream was back then?"

"Excuse me?" Weiss looked offended, "Are we forgetting how Blake barely talked and kept giving me the side-eye like I was personally oppressing her race?"

"You called that Sun guy a slur."

"And we're fighting again. This is why we needed Jaune." Ruby sighed, "Byt the way, what are your plans for vacation once we clean this place up? Councilman Blanche said it'd be nice if we stuck around and helped people settle in, plus use our magic for the construction, but...I dunno. It feels like doing that is too much, right? We're supposed to be Huntsmen. Helping rule a city feels like we're going past what we're supposed to be."

"We've been entrusted to assist in a fight against an immortal Grimm Queen that seeks to end all life on Remnant, Ruby. We've long since passed regular Huntsmen duties," Weiss said, "And I agree with the councilor. Reclaiming Mt. Glenn only to abandon it would be very irresponsible."

"He said Faunus were likely to come here," Blake added, "Faunus councilor and one of the reclaimers is a Faunus. Vale's better for my people than Atlas and Mistral, but we still have to deal with prejudice. Faunus who come here will be looking for a second chance. If staying to help them transition gives even one more Faunus a home, then I'll do it. This is the reason I left the White Fang. To find a way to fight for my people that doesn't have to end in a pile of innocent bodies."

The rest of the meal was spent in silence. Jaune made one last check to make sure the deer was being properly preserved before he began to amplify the four of them again. According to the estimations, it would've taken teams of Huntsmen weeks to exterminate all the Grimm, mostly because of the them converging in the tunnels. That was what led to the Breach in the first place. Hundreds - maybe even thousands - of Grimm all just waiting to pour out.

Which was why they had to lure them out.

Jaune watched through his scope from the top of a building as Ruby rushed inside one of the entrances. She can back out a minute later being chased by an absolute horde of Grimm. He put his finger on the trigger and got to sniping, trying to pick off at least a few Grimm before the elemental barrage got them all. Pull the trigger, pull back the bolt, repeat. He wasn't a trained sniper like Ruby - Grimm weren't like deer or boar - so he treated the whole thing as target practice. Maybe someday he could score consistent headshots.

It was only by sundown that they finally stopped. Ruby picked him up from the roof and zipped back to camp while the rest of the team groaned and sat around the campfire, "Man, I'm beat." Yang stretched her arms above her head and lay down on the grass, looking up at the shattered moon, "How many was that?"

"Hundreds, at least." Weiss sighed.

"And thousands more to go." Blake cut some meat from the deer and stacked it on a paper plate, "You know, when I imagined fighting hordes of Grimm, I didn't think it'd be like clocking in at the office."

"That's because you four have magic. Not exactly fair," Jaune pointed out.

"Killing Grimm's not supposed to be boring! It's supposed to be exciting! Get your blood pumping!" Yang sat up, "Remember the Breach? We were pushing ourselves to our limits! Now it's just Ruby luring hordes out and we blast them."

"People died back then, Yang..." Ruby murmured.

The other blonde's expression dimmed and she scratched the back of her head, "Yeah, okay, but I'm not talking about sending Grimm into town or anything. I mean actually pushing ourselves. We're supposed to be training our powers here, but it feels like we're just fighting combat dummies back at school. If we're gonna beat this Salem bitch, we need to push ourselves. Go past our limits!

"Yang, you, Blake, and Weiss learned to fly last week," Jaune pointed out again.

"Well, yeah, but most Grimm are on the ground! The only Grimm that fly are Nevermores and Griffons."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Yang? That we go into the tunnels and put ourselves at needless risk?"

"No! But, like, there has to be some way to train without just blasting everything to pieces. That chunk of ground outside the tunnel's been glassed so many times I'm starting to feel sorry for it."

"Next time, we'll make sure to go after a horde blindfolded." Blake handed each of them a skewer, "Now stop whining. We have another week of this."

[line break]

Seven days.

Ruby took a deep breath as she forced herself to stand up straight. Seven days of constantly luring out Grimm for the killing field. As much as she hated to admit it, Yang kind of had a point about how...mundane it all was. With her Semblance (plus a speed boost from her magic), the Grimm couldn't even touch her. All she had to do was go in, shoot a few rounds into the horde, then run outside while they might as well have been chasing her in slow-mo.

And now...it was clean.

Ruby did one more quick sweep to make sure every tunnel was free of Grimm. She even shouted and shot a few blanks in the air just to draw attention. Nothing. Now it was time for the second part of their job: a clean patrol.

"Are you guys ready?" Ruby asked, strapping the bodycam to her chest. Now that they'd cleared of most, if not all, the Grimm, the next part was to announce it to Vale. They could've just called for an announcement, but people would doubt or the rest of the council - which was looking for a win after the Winchester scandal and Sienna slipping into Vale right under their nose - would delay it and try to find a way to take credit for this. And Blake made it clear that she wasn't going to let them knock the Faunus councilor to the side just for political brownie points.

So this was the alternative. Announce on all their (scarily popular) social media pages that they had an announcement to make and posting a link to a livestream. Ruby wasn't exactly keen on it, but Weiss did say she saw the practical application for it. The council couldn't interrupt unless they were willing to fly to Mt. Glenn and trying to sabotage them by banning the videos would only end up making them look worse.

Ruby hated all these politics and scheming. She became a Huntress to help people. Kill Grimm, stop criminals, save innocents. It was supposed to be simple. No one but those weirdo conspiracy theorists argued about how they should see the Grimm's point of view. But now they were reclaiming something that could help thousands of people and they still had to be careful to do it the "right" way so some corrupt jerk couldn't just use it to push some political agenda.

She looked at the rest of the team too. All of them, Jaune included, had the same cameras and they were all boosted by Jaune's Semblance. Just in case, Weiss said. It was overkill for any stray Grimm they'd find, but better safe than sorry.

She took another deep breath and activated the stream, "Hey guys!" Ruby said, trying to sound like her normal cheerful self. Just focus on the people this could help, she told herself, "I know this is sudden, but team RWBY-J wants to make an announcement!" She gestured to the tunnel they stood in front of, "For decades, people had to abandon Mt. Glenn because of the Grimm. Any older people in the audience will remember hearing about it or maybe even experienced it firsthand."

She kept quit for a moment out of respect.

"Well, we're here to try and fix that." She stepped inside, the rest of the team following after her, "We've been working super hard to clear out all the Grimm! Not just in the ruins, but the tunnels too. But we don't expect you to take our word for it, so we're going to show you." They all turned on the camera's flashlights, bathing the tunnels in a bright light. The recording equipment was Huntsmen grade, the kind professionals used to confirm mission success (since Grimm didn't leave bodies behind). CCT connection, durable, emergency lights, and trackers in case the Huntsman was in danger.

Walking through the inside of Mt. Glenn felt eerie even after the dozens of times she'd sped through it. How many people died here, she wondered. The city fell before she was even born, so she didn't feel a sense of loss or responsibility for it like the Breach or the Great War. It was just some historical event to her.

But they made sure to still be respectful.

She led the team through the tunnel that ended up in a giant cavern that led to bunch of tunnels. While the majority of the settlement was located outside, the inside was meant to act as a final defense due to the lack of natural barriers most other places had (something Weiss said they could fix with their powers). Even then, someone or something sabotaged the tunnels and Grimm poured inside. Vale sealing the connecting tunnel turned the place Saunus' biggest tomb.

She'd spotted some scattered bones during her patrols, most of them buried under dirt or rubble. She knew that whether Grimm ate the bodies or not was random. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn't. Most of the ones in Mt. Glenn seemed to be the former. She knew from the history books that thousands of people died here, but she'd ran into maybe a couple dozen assorted bones across her runs that were noticeable out in the open. They all agreed they deserved proper burials.

Ruby led them across the various tunnels to show just how clear they were. It was actually eerie how calm the place was. Over the past week, she'd gotten used to the sight of red eyes in the darkness and the growls of Grimm. Now, it was just quiet. She could feel the amplified magic humming across her skin, ready to be unleashed, but there wasn't even a single beowolf straggler to hit. Which was good. The last thing they needed was someone who moved in here getting hurt.

They went through all the tunnels before eventually ending up back at the cavern. She could see on her scroll that hundreds of thousands of people were watching. She silently thanked the gods that she couldn't see them or else she might've gotten stage fright.

"As you can see, Mt. Glenn has been purged of Grimm," Weiss said, "We're not claiming that everything has been fixed. Any who wish to come here will find their work cut out for them, but it's a chance. A chance for any who-"

The ground shook. Ruby stumbled slightly and looked around. She didn't even get the chance to draw Crescent Rose before the shaking got worse and she fell on her side, "What the fuck?!" Yang shouted, but it was quickly drowned out by the sounds of tons of rocks cracking over their heads. Ruby's eyes widened and she immediately activated her Semblance, grabbing up the rest of her team and surging to the tunnel leading to the exit.

They were almost outside when a large piece of rock fell down and nearly crushed them all. Her Semblance deactivated from the force of the impact and they all fell into heap on the ground. Weiss, Yang, and Blake rolled enough to land outside while she and Jaune were still inside. Ruby struggled to stand. They had to get out of here. Had to...

"IS EVERYONE ALR-" Jaune's cry was consumed by a deafening roar and another piece of rock fell over her.

Without warning, Jaune surged forward and pushed her out of the way with enough force to send her flying outside, "Jaune!" She scrambled to her feet and rushed to the tunnel entrance. It was buried under tons of rock, and she barely saw Jaune through little gaps in the pile, "Jaune, hold on! I can-"

The roar came again, louder this time.

Ruby looked up and gasped. Hundreds of feet above them, at the peak of Mt. Glenn, they saw the ceiling crack and...and something was coming out of it. Her eyes teared up as the monster - the Grimm - finally emerged. A dragon. She wasn't seeing things. A giant Grimm that looked like a monstrous dragon with bat like wings, a malformed mouth full of sharp teeth, and glowing eyes that seemed to stare straight into their souls.

Her head was ringing so much that she almost missed the really weird part: rather than the normal red parts, the fabric of its wings, its eyes, and the corrosive fluid dripping from its body was all green. It was hard to see too, but she could swear there were bits of machinery attacked the bones on its head and jaw. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. It felt like something was clawing at the back of her eyeballs and she didn't know what to do.

The dragon unfurled its wings and flew away. For a second, she thought that they were safe, before they saw a flock of Nevermores and Griffons suddenly following after it, seemingly coming out of nowhere, "Where is it..." She stopped, suddenly remembering the direction.

Oh no...

"It's heading for Vale!" Blake shouted, "We have to stop it!"

"But Jaune-"

"Don't worry about me! I'll be fine!" Jaune shouted, his voice muffled by the rocks, "Stop it! You have- damn it, ceiling's crumbling! I'm heading back inside! Go!"

"But-"

"GO!"

What little she could see of his figure through the space suddenly turned and retreated before another wave of stone blocked the gap. Her first instinct was to summon her power to pull out the rubble before she felt a firm hand on her shoulder, "Ruby, we have to save the city! Millions of people are at risk!" Weiss shouted.

"But Jaune-"

"He'll be fine! We have to trust him!" Weiss' eyes burned with white fire, "Come on! We have to stop them now!"

Ruby took one last look at the pile of rubble before she screamed in anguish and turned away, her eyes blazing with crimson flames, "You better be alive when I get back, Jaune!" she shouted before taking to the skies. Yang, Weiss, and Blake followed her as they surged towards the dragon heading for Vale in the distance.

Ruby's heart pounded as she streaked through the sky, her Semblance carrying her forward in a crimson blur. The massive dragon grew larger in her vision as they closed the distance, but it was still too far ahead. Behind it, the swarm of Nevermores and Griffons darkened the sky like a plague of locusts, "We need to get through them first!" she shouted over the rushing wind, drawing Crescent Rose. The familiar weight of her scythe in her hands steadied her nerves even as her mind kept flashing back to the pile of rubble where Jaune was trapped.

Focus, she told herself. She had to save the city first. Jaune would be okay. He had to be.

The first wave of Griffons dove toward them with piercing shrieks. Ruby spun Crescent Rose and channeled her power, feeling the magic surge through her weapon. She slashed horizontally, sending a massive gust of razor-sharp air cutting through the formation. Three Griffons were sliced clean in half, their bodies dissolving into black smoke before they could even hit the ground. The Aura slash kept going, cutting through another six Griffons before finally dissipating.

A Nevermore swooped down from above, its talons reaching for Yang. Ruby twisted in midair and fired off another wind-infused Aura slash, taking off the giant bird's wing right wing. It spiraled out of control with a bone-chilling cry.

"Nice shot!" Yang called out, her burning hair whipping behind her as she rocketed toward a cluster of Griffons. Her gauntlets blazed with orange fire as she cocked back her fist. When she punched, a massive fireball erupted from her knuckles, engulfing two Griffons in an instant. She didn't slow down, spinning to drive a flaming uppercut into a Nevermore's chest, the impact sending it flying like a comet towards another Nevemore and knocking them both out of the sky.

To Ruby's left, Weiss was a blur of white and ice. Icicles the size of cars materialized around her, launching forward to impale a diving Nevermore through the chest. She gestured gracefully with Myrtenaster, and the air around three more Griffons suddenly crystallized, trapping them in ice before they shattered like glass sculptures.

Blake moved towards another cluster, her katana crackling with purple electricity. She appeared above a Griffon in a flash of lightning, bringing her blade down in a devastating downward slash. Thunder boomed as electricity coursed through the Grimm's body, frying it from the inside out. Without missing a beat, she pointed Gambol Shroud skyward and called down a bolt of lightning that forked through the air, striking four Nevermores simultaneously.

Ruby pulled the at the power inside her, gathering the air around them into a massive tornado. The cyclone of wind caught a dozen smaller Grimm, shredding them to pieces as they were pulled into the vortex. She released the tornado with a fierce cry, sending it spiraling toward the largest group of Nevermores. They tried to scatter, but the wind was too strong, too fast. She watched with grim satisfaction as more and more of the horde was consumed.

But even as they carved through the aerial horde, more Grimm kept coming. And ahead of them, the massive dragon was still heading straight for Vale. Ruby's eyes locked onto the massive dragon's wing joint - the same weak point she targeted back at the Nevermore in Initiation. If she could cut off one wing, the monster would crash before it reached Vale, "I'm going in!" she shouted to her teammates before she activated combined her Semblance and magic.

The world blurred into streaks of red as Ruby shot forward like a bullet, leaving a trail of rose petals in her wake. The wind whipped against her face and Aura as she closed the distance in seconds, Crescent Rose held high above her head. The dragon's wing beat with thunderous force, creating gusts that threatened to knock her off course, but she pushed through.

With a fierce cry, Ruby drove Crescent Rose's blade deep into the joint where the wing connected to the dragon's massive body. The scythe's edge bit into the Grimm's hide with a sickening crunch, black ichor spraying across her red cloak. Ruby bit back a shriek as the same corrosive fluid ate away at her Aura. The dragon let out an ear-shattering roar, its entire body convulsing from the wound.

Ruby gripped her weapon's handle tighter as she changed from fire to gravity rounds. She could feel the dragon's muscles straining beneath her feet as it tried to shake her off. Her finger inched towards the trigger. Just had to-

A bone-jarring impact slammed into her from the side. Then another. And another.

A group of Griffons broke off from the main swarm and dive-bombed her position, their claws and beaks tearing at her. Ruby's Aura flared as she was battered from multiple directions, each hit driving the breath from her lungs. The combined momentum of their assault was too much. Her grip on Crescent Rose's handle slipped and she fell.

"No!" Ruby screamed as she was torn away from the dragon's back, tumbling through the air helplessly. She watched in horror as her beloved scythe remained embedded in the beast's wing, "Ruby!" Yang tackled her mid-air and threw her back to the Dragon's retreating form. She activated her Semblance again, reaching out for her baby, when another Nevermore almost knocked her out of the sky again. She was forced to stop and tear it apart with another wave of razor wind.

The chase continued like that for the next few minutes. Every time they gained on the dragon, Grimm would sacrifice themselves to block their path and buy just a little more time.

Ruby blasted through another wave of Griffons with a tornado, only to find three more Nevermores diving straight at her face like suicidal missiles. She sliced them apart with razor-sharp wind, but precious seconds ticked away as she dealt with each attack. Behind her, she could hear Weiss cursing as she froze a cluster of Griffons solid, Yang's explosive shouts as she punched her way through another cluster, and the crack of Blake's lightning splitting the air as she made sure each and every bolt bounced across different Grimm.

But it wasn't enough. For every Grimm they destroyed, two more seemed to take its place, throwing themselves at the four of them with suicidal determination.

Ruby could see Vale getting closer and closer. The city's walls rose up from the horizon, and beyond them, the familiar towers and buildings of Beacon. There were air defenses placed across the top of the walls, anti-aircraft guns and missile batteries that could take down normal flying Grimm. She could even make out tiny figures of Huntsmen taking defensive positions on the walls and rooftops.

But would it be enough to stop a horde like this? Would it be enough to stop that monster?

Her heart sank as she looked down below the dragon's flight path. The ground was crawling with more Grimm. Beowolves surging forward like starving animals, massive Ursa lumbering across the landscape, and Deathstalkers scuttling forward with their stingers raised. It was like the dragon was calling every Grimm in Saunus to its location

The walls would stop the ground forces, but the sheer number of them was terrifying. And that dragon... Ruby's eyes fixed on Crescent Rose, still embedded in the beast's wing like a red flag of defiance. That monster was heading straight for the heart of the city, and they were running out of time to stop it. Her eyes teared up again with pain she felt something almost overwhelming. Not fear. Anger. Anger at the thought of Jaune being hurt, at the thought of even one innocent person dying to this...this fucking monster!

The dragon surged down and divebombed towards the walls along with dozens of other Grimm. Ruby watched in horror as the anti-aircraft guns swiveled to track the incoming threat, their barrels blazing with gunfire. Huntsmen on the battlements launched themselves into the air, weapons drawn, ready to meet the assault head-on, while other Huntsmen and regular defenders shot at both the dragon and the rest of the horde bearing down on them.

But it was too much.

The dragon swept its massive claws across the battlements like a scythe cutting wheat. Stone and metal exploded under the impact, anti-aircraft guns crumpling like tin cans. Huntsmen were sent flying through the air, their Aura shields flaring as they crashed into walls or tumbled from the ramparts, "No!" Ruby shriekd, pouring more power into her flight as she desperately tried to close the distance, aiming for Crescent Rose like bullet.

Yang got there first. She flew overhead before spinning in a sharp 180-degree turn, her golden hair streaming behind her like a banner. With a roar of fury, she cocked back her fist and drove it into the dragon's skull with explosive force. The flaming punch connected with a sound like thunder, and Ruby felt the shockwave ripple through the air even from her position. The dragon's head snapped back from the impact, its roar echoing across the whole city and drowning out the screams of the people below.

Weiss was next. She raised both arms, her eyes blazing with white fire as she channeled her power. Two massive spectral arms materialized in the air, each one the size of a small building, translucent and glowing with ethereal energy with a chill that made her shiver. They wrapped around the monster's neck like giant hands, spectral fingers digging into its hide as Weiss strained to pull it away from the walls.

Blake was the last to strike. She flew close to the dragon's exposed chest, amber eyes crackling with purple electricity. Without a single pause, she created a shadow clone and infused it with her magic. The clone launched itself directly at the beast's torso and detonated in a massive explosion of purple lightning that lit up the sky like a second sun.

The combined assault finally knocked the dragon free from the walls. It tumbled through the air, crashing down into the horde of Grimm below with earth-shaking force.

Ruby shot down towards the dragon, uncaring of the surrounding Grimm, and beelined for Crescent Rose. She gripped the scythe's handle and roared, pulling the trigger and bolt over and over while the dragon shrieked. She grit her teeth and pushed herself forward with bursts of wind. The magazine was almost empty before the scythe blade finally cut through the wing joint, severing the wing. The fallen limb crashed into the ground and crushed a couple group of beowolves before dissipating into nothing.

But it wasn't enough. The dragon roared and readied itself to jump over the wall, or even just batter through it. The pain behind her eyes was too much now. She heard the rest of her team was screaming at her to get away, Yang was diving down to grab her again, but she barely even noticed. All she could think about was how angry she was. The people screaming in fear, the Huntsmen who were swatted away like flies, and Jaune...

Her next shriek pierced the air and a bright light shined from her eyes, engulfing everything around her. She wasn't going to let a single one of these monsters hurt anyone else!

Ruby didn't know how much time passed, but by the end of it, she was on her knees panting and barely conscious. Yang and Weiss hovered around her protectively with Yang's gentle but firm grip on her shoulder, "Wh-What...?"

"Easy there, Rubes. Easy."

"What happened? The dragon..." She looked past Yang and gasped. The dragon was still there, along with the rest of the Grimm...but all of them had turned to stone. They were surrounded by a field of Grimm statues with the dragon at the center frozen mid-roar, its remining wing unfurled.

She...She'd done that, hadn't she? She remembered her lessons with Ms. Calavera. She said the Silver Eyes had power that could turn Grimm to dust and ash. A part of her always figured she was being metaphorical in a way, but this was...

"Is...Is everyone alright...?"

"Yeah, we're fine." Yang grinned.

"The Huntsmen in the walls were injured severely, but they should be fine. The worst damage was to the defenses," Weiss added.

"That's...That's good." She stood up shakily, her relief quickly being replaced by worry, "Jaune...we need to go get him."

"Blake already went back for him. Rubes, you need to-"

"NO!" Ruby shook Yang's hand off. Her eyes burned with fire. Not red; silver. Both Yang and Weiss looked surprised, but she didn't care right now, "We gotta go save Jaune!"

Weiss and Yang looked at one another before they nodded, "I understand, we're worried about him too, but don't push yourself. Let's go."

[line break]

Ruby's now officially a Silver-Eyed Maiden. Don't worry, Jaune's gonna have his share of action in the next chapter. Less high octane anime and more desperate survivor, which is more my preferred fighting scenes.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one. 

Progress Update

Hey, just a heads up on how it's going. Almost done (about a day or two) from the next Seasons main story update. Been a while, huh? After that, the next chapter of Maid Jaune featuring Ren and Nora threesome. Which includes Ren in a qipao. Remember, it ain't weird to kiss a homie goodnight.

Here There Be Pirates (Pirate AU Jaune Harem) - Chapter 2

Hey. Sorry for the delay. I'm REALLY trying to get the creative juices flowing again. I feel...lethargic, dunno why. I'll see about doing better. Promise.

For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543 gmail . com

[line break]

Jaune took a deep breath and forced himself to smile as he led Ruby and Yang back to the Beacon. Be confident, he reminded himself. He wasn't just the cabin boy anymore, he was the captain. The guy who (accidentally) killed Dread Pirate Ozpin and made the Beacon his own (after Glynda basically forced him too). He could ask a couple of girls to repair the ship. Just be professional. It wasn't like the Beacon was lacking in funds or anything. Ozpin had been a pirate for decades - centuries, if you believed the stories - and had the wealth to match. Wealth that was his now.

If he lived long enough to enjoy it, at least.

His eyes flicked over to the two women following him. Despite being sisters, the two looked like polar opposites. Ruby was on the shorter side and her pale skin told him she was someone used to being cooped up in workshops even though Patch was a coastal island. Her fingers and cheeks were speckled with dust and soot and her even now she was consulting blueprints, reading it while side-stepping any people or obstacles like it was second nature.

Yang was someone who reminded him of the hard laborers back home. Sun-kissed skin, solid muscles, and abs you could grate cheese on. His eyes lingered on her midriff before forcing his eyes back to the golden curtain of hair. Even from this distance, he could tell a lot of love and care went into it. The blonde locks could put any governor's daughters to shame, and there was something almost hypnotic with the way the ponytail swung with her movements.

He shook his head. Focus, Jaune. He was the captain now! All he needed to do was get the Beacon repaired and then he could have the life of amazing adventure he always dreamed of. He could see it now. Gentleman Pirate Jaune Arc, bane of the evil and corrupt and idol to the masses. Fair maidens would swoon when he arrived, and the oppressed would cheer while he fought epic duels to save them. That was what being a pirate was all about... plus treasure, of course. Even heroes needed to eat.

When they arrived at the docks, Ruby stopped and stared at the ship, eyes wide with wonder, "Th-That's... " She gasped, both hands covering her mouth, "THAT'S THE BEACON! THE Beacon! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh gosh!" Ruby was practically hyperventilating, bouncing on her toes like a kid in a candy store, "Beacon! THE Beacon! Scourge of the four seas! Legend of the ocean! And it's here!" She turned to Jaune and grabbed his shoulders in a vice grip, "Why is this here?! Is Ozpin on board?! Can I talk to him?!"

"Woah! Down, Rubes!" Yang laughed and pulled her little sister back by the collar, "Let the guy breath!" She looked at the ship, "That's that pirate ship, right?"

"It's not just A pirate ship! It's THE pirate ship!" Jaune said defensively, puffing his chest forward, "And I'm it's captain!"

The sisters looked at him with disbelief (Yang) or utter confusion (Ruby). A moment of silence passed, long enough for a seagull to fly overhead and crap a few inches from his boots. He refused to move or break his pose. Eventually, Ruby spoke up, "Uh... no you're not. Everyone knows that Dread Pirate Ozpin is the captain of the Beacon. Has been for centuries." She looked at him like he was an idiot, which was devastating from someone who looked that cute.

"Well... he was the Captain." Jaune put his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest more, "Except I beat him in... a duel. So I'm the Captain now. Glynda says so." The last part sounded more pathetic now that he said it out loud, but he refused to budge from his pose. He reminded himself to tell the crew (or rather, have Glynda tell the crew for him) to avoid spilling what really happened. It'd be pretty... awkward for people to know that Dread Pirate Ozpin died because a pirate lord couldn't freaking swim.

Ruby looked like she was still doubting him till the sounds of clicking heels reached their ears. Jaune turned in both dread and relief at the sight of Glynda walking over to them, "Captain Arc." She nodded to him, "I trust you've found suitable people to repair the ship?"

Before he could reply, Ruby squealed. The sound echoed across the docks and dozens of people turned to look at the sound before seeing Ruby getting on with their day, "Y-You're... YOU'RE GLYNDA GOODWITCH!" she shrieked. Jaune winced at just how loud her voice was, "The Siren! Oh my gosh, this is amazing!" Ruby rummaged through her back pocket and pulled out a scroll and (somehow freshly dipped) quill that was way too big to fit into her back pocket, "C-Could you sign this?!"

Glynda blinked in surprise and he swore her mouth twitched up in a smile before she quickly suppressed it, "Of course." She took the parchment and signed her name in noble cursive, "I assume you're the one repairing our ship?"

"Yep! Ruby Rose, best shipwright in all of Patch!" She took both paper and quill back and stuffed them behind her again.

"She's being modest." Yang wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "She's the best damn shipwright in all of Remnant. She's been getting offers to move over to Vale and Atlas with juicy ten year contracts, but sis here's convinced all she needs is one little push to start her grand adventure."

"Yang~!" Ruby tried to wriggle out of her sister's grasp, but the taller woman easily kept her at bay, "That's not- ugh, whatever!" She shook her head and looked back to Glynda, "But I can totally fix it up in just a couple of days!"

"A couple of days? The Beacon is a large ship, young lady, as you can well see." Glynda gestured to it.

"Sure, but I've got my Semblance." She disappeared in a burst of rose petals. Jaune looked around only for her to appear again, this time carrying a stack of blueprints, "Super speed makes repairs super quick! Plus Yang's super strong! No need to hire people to carry stuff!"

"Thanks for volunteering me to be your gopher, Rubes." Yang scoffed playfully.

"The rest of the crew is experienced with repairs, this shouldn't be an issue." Glynda turned to him, "If we're lucky, captain, we may be back at sea before the week is done. I trust this is acceptable?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah, totally!" Jaune nodded. Even now, Glynda managed to look absolutely terrifying while asking regular questions.

Ruby gasped again and looked at Jaune with awe, "Wait, so you really are the captain?!" She stepped closer and looked up at Jaune with a twinkle in her silver eyes, "How?! You said you beat Ozpin in a duel! Does that mean he gifted the Beacon to you?! Oh, oh, were you his apprentice?! His second-in command? No, no, that's the Siren. So you have to be-"

"Captain Arc killed Ozpin," Glynda cut in. Ruby's eyes widened while Jaune choked on nothing, "Ozpin was basking in his victory when Captain Arc claimed the title. He never saw it coming." How did she make it sound so accurate yet not completely pathetic? It was impressive, "It was all very dramatic, I'm sure he can tell you the rest another time, Ms. Rose. Right now, our priority is getting our ship repaired. Payment will not be an issue."

But Ruby wasn't listening. She just looked at Jaune with an unreadable expression that suddenly made him feel awkward. Yang looked between them and snorted, "Dread Pirate Ozpin? Ha, more like Dead Pirate Ozpin, right?"

None of them looked at her, though Glynda looked away and coughed into her hand from what was either a laugh or a growl. Ruby looked dizzy, still giving Jaune that unreadable look. He was just about to suggest maybe finding another shipright when she suddenly surged forward and held his right hand between both of hers, "OH... MY... BROTHERS... !" She stood up on her tiptoes till her faces was inches away from his. The closeness only amplified how cute she looked under all the dirt staining her pale skin, "You beat Ozpin! Th-That must mean you're even more awesome than he is! He's beaten everyone! Even Admiral Ironwood! How did you do it?!"

Tripped and knocked him into the water cause apparently Dread Pirate Ozpin couldn't fucking swim. He didn't say that, of course. Instead, he smiled in a way he hoped was dashing and mysterious and winked, "Ah, some legends are worth waiting for, Ms. Rose." Glynda raised a brow while Yang snorted. Ruby's eyes sparkled even brighter than before, "I wouldn't want to ruin your imagination by spoiling it so soon. Legends need time to grow, after all."

Ruby practically swooned on the spot while Yang rolled her eyes and made a rude gesture, "Oh my gosh, this is history in the making! The Beacon has a new captain! And I'm repairing the ship!" She bounced up and down, "Wait, wait! We can do more! A lot more!" She rushed over to a nearby table and opened one of the blueprints, "We can improv it! Most ships wouldn't be able to handle my babies, but the Beacon? It's a fortress in the sea! It can take anything!"

They all looked over the blueprints. Jaune, sadly, wasn't an expert, but Glynda looked impressed enough, "These are... extensive, Ms. Rose. If these are truly able to be made, then it would increase the Beacon's capabilities quite handily. We certainly have the funds to purchase these upgrades, assuming you can actually build them."

"I know what I'm doing!" Ruby preened, "But I don't want money! Well, I do, but I want something else!" Her eyes flickered to Jaune, "I wanna join your crew!"

"... What?"

"Hahahaha!" Yang doubled over in laughter, "Seriously, Rubes?"

"What?" She looked to her sister defensively, "Captain Jaune beat Ozpin! That means he's THE greatest pirate in the four seas right now! I'm not giving up this chance! You can't stop me, sis!"

"Who said anything about stopping you?" Yang grinned, "But if you're going then I'm going too. I'm getting tired of Patch anyway. Wanna see the world before I get so old even Aura can't keep this luscious locks fresh." She fluffed up her (admittedly amazing) mane of hair and turned to Jaune, "What do you say, Captain? We in?"

Jaune looked to Glynda who just shrugged in response, "Why are you looking at me? You're the Captain. You decide when to hire new crew members."

The Captain. Right. Jaune gulped and nodded, schooling his face in the same confident smile as before, "Well... how can I say no to two eager young adventurers?" He wasn't even lying about that. Jaune could tell Ruby was a kindred spirit. Someone who saw the life of piracy as a way to get treasures and adventure. He needed someone like that on his crew.

... Plus, it'd be two more crew members who didn't see him trip Ozpin into the sea.

Ruby squealed. Seagulls all across the harbor took the skies while he, Glynda, and Yang winced, "Yes, yes, yes! I promise you won't regret it!" Ruby dropped the rest of her blueprints and hugged Jaune. He grunted at the suddenly tight grip. Ruby was way stronger than she looked, "The upgrades should only take a few weeks, but after? Not even the entire Atlesian navy can take the Beacon!"

"Assuming this all works, of course," Glynda muttered.

"Of course it's gonna work! The only explosion happened because the last captain didn't listen to me!" Ruby huffed, "You'll see! I'll earn my place at the Beacon!"

"Here's hoping." Jaune's smile became strained. The last thing he wanted for his first official voyage start with half his ship exploding.

[line break]

Weiss Schnee was someone who had it all. Beauty, grace, riches, and power. As the heiress to the Schnee Trading Company, she held an unprecedented level of power in the four seas. Her porcelain skin was unmarred by scars or blemishes, her snow-white hair cascaded down her back like spun silk, and her ice-blue eyes could freeze a man's heart with a single glance. She moved with the refined elegance that only came from years of the finest tutoring, and her voice could command attention in any room.

But beauty wasn't her only asset, of course. The Schnee family possessed a hereditary Semblance that had been passed down through generations: the power of their glyphs. She could create barriers of crystalline ice that could stop cannon fire, use Dust like it was part of her body, freeze the sea itself, and move at speeds that would put even the fastest ships to shame. She could outfight and overpower just about anyone in the Atlesian navy, a fact that both impressed and unnerved her father's business partners.

Yet for all her advantages, there was one thing that eluded her: freedom

Her position was nothing more than a gilded cage. Beautiful and luxurious, but a prison nonetheless. Every decision was made for her, every relationship scrutinized, every moment of her life planned and orchestrated by her father. Jacques Schnee was a horrible man who would do anything for profit - Dust, slaves, weapons, anything he could transport and sell across the four seas. It was disgusting. The way he spoke about people like they were commodities, the way he smiled while discussing trade routes that relied on human suffering, the way he used his own daughter as a bargaining chip.

Her mind wandered, as it often did these days, to the stories she'd heard of pirates. Dashing rogues and charming scoundrels who sailed the seas with nothing but their wit and their crew. Many of them were handsome as well, supposedly. Sun-bronzed skin from life at sea, strong arms from hauling rope and wielding cutlasses, eyes that sparkled with mischief and adventure. Freedom fighters and rebels who took what they wanted and lived life on their terms, no one else's.

She could picture it so clearly. A pirate ship appearing on the horizon, sails billowing in the wind. The crew would board her vessel, and their captain - tall and mysterious yet with a roguish smile and gentle hands - would see her standing there. A young, beautiful maiden ripe for the taking. She would resist, of course, putting up a proper fight befitting a lady of her station. But then their eyes would meet, and she'd see something different in his gaze. Not crude lust like the nobles back home, but genuine desire mixed with respect. He'd sweep her off her feet with wit and charm, and she'd find herself willingly sailing away into the sunset, finally free to live as she chose...

Weiss sighed into her tea, the delicate porcelain cup trembling slightly in her hands as she ignored the gentle rocking of the ship. The fantasies were pleasant, but they couldn't dispel the reality of her situation. Right now, she was on a ship ferrying her to meet her future husband. Cardin Winchester, the son of a Valean admiral from a prestigious family. Father had offered her up like a pig at a feast for a trade deal, promising her hand in marriage to secure military protection for Schnee shipping routes.

Mr. Winchester was apparently "respectable," from what she'd been repeatedly told. Which meant he was a proponent of the corrupt, bloated system that kept the rich in power while the poor suffered. He had no charm, no wit, no dreams beyond climbing the ranks of his father's navy through nepotism. He talked about his position as if it'd been earned rather than handed to him. Spoke proudly of a ship he'd been gifted when he turned 17 and a commission he was fast tracked for. His "war stories" of attacking Faunus natives sickened her to her core.

She shuddered at the memory of the way he looked at her during their brief meeting months prior. The obvious lust in his eyes as they roamed over her figure. There was no charm in it, no subtlety, no romance. Just crude, base want. Like she was a piece of meat to be devoured rather than a woman to be courted. And father had approved of it because he was a "respectable man".

He'd spoken to her like she was already his property, discussing their "future together" as if her opinion on the matter was irrelevant. She knew what he wanted. A blushing bride to slake his lusts on while he had his "fun" out in sea. A breeding sow to cement his legacy.

Oh, what she wouldn't give to escape right now...

She set the cup down and furrowed her brow at the sudden sounds of screams coming from outside. What in the Brothers? She stood up and almost stumbled at the sounds of cannonfire. An attack? She grabbed Myrtenaster and looked out the window. Across the distance, she made out a ship. Black and green wood, dark sails, and that flag... her eyes widened and she gasped. The Beacon. That was the Beacon. The ship of Dread Pirate Ozpin!

Her grip on Myrtenaster tightened. She'd heard the tales of Dread Pirate Ozpin, everyone had. His rivalry with Admiral Ironwood was legendary, and Ozpin himself - despite being called a Dread Pirate - was reportedly a gentleman and a man of honor. The wanted posters she'd seen were very flattering to the man. A true Silver Fox. He was the talk of ladies of the court, the subject of tantalizing whispers in formal gatherings.

Her heart beat rapidly. Not in fear, but in excitement. Her ship was being attacked by the Dread Pirate himself, likely because of father's ostentatiousness. She was to be delivered to Vale like a prize pig and no normal ship would suffice for that. Pride (alongside greed) had always been her father's fatal flaw. He assumed the crew - Cardin's cronies who she felt little sympathy for - would be enough to fight off any pirate ship that dared to raid them.

Evidently, he didn't expect the Beacon.

She could hear the sounds of fighting outside escalating. She almost rushed out before she remembered the situation. She had no desire to be taken to Vale as the blushing bride and the men outside were hardly worthy of sympathy. They were part of Cardin's raids against the Faunus and guarded slave ships. If she saved them, they'd simply haul her off to Cardin, likely while downplaying her achievements and claiming they all fought off the pirates while she cowered in her tea room.

She sat back down, crossed her legs, and drank her tea as the sounds of battle intensified. She would play her role perfectly. Once Captain Ozpin kicked down the door, she would surrender herself for ransom. From there, she would either convince him of her use (she knew more about the SDC than Jacques thought she did) or escape on her own. Her beauty and abilities, plus her business sense, ensured she could live independently if need be.

Minutes passed and the sounds of fighting began fade. Weiss finished off her tea and set the cup down just in time for someone to kick the door down. Weiss perked up, readying herself to play her role perfectly until she saw exactly who'd stomped inside. It wasn't Captain Ozpin. It wasn't even a man. Instead, the one who stood in the door was a tall blonde woman, her lilac eyes shining with mirth as she tossed the captain of the ship onto the floor in front of her, groaning but undeniably still breathing.

"... Rude." Weiss looked at the woman with distaste. She almost drew Myrtenaster and froze her solid before she reminded herself of what was at stake.

The tall blonde grinned and walked towards her like she owned the place, "Well, well, well. Guess you're the treasure of this ship, huh?"

"It would seem so." Weiss stood and picked up Myrtenaster. The blonde's eyes flicked over the the rapier and her posture tensed, "Well? Take me to your captain."

"That's really not how this works. This is a kidnapping, princess. I've got the sack right here." She gestured to the sack she held in her left hand.

"Attempt to stuff me in there and I'll throw you overboard and find someone else who'll treat a lady with the respect she deserves." Weiss said, glaring at the woman with her eyes narrowed, "You must be new to this. I'm Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Trading Company. My father will pay a king's ransom for me, but touch one hair on my head, and you get nothing. Then you'll have to explain to your dear Captain why you lost a very easy fortune."

"Alright, alright! Geez.., " She rubbed the back of her head, "Come on then, let's just go before I change my mind."

Weiss smirked and primly followed the brute out, pointedly ignoring the groans of the crew. Most of them were still alive, though they'd have a hard time explaining to father and that lout Cardin why exacly they lost the precious heiress. She prepared herself on the speech she planned to give the Dread Pirate. She could be useful to him, and her information would be worth more than any ransom. If not, she could at least comfort herself knowing that father got egg on his face.

The crew of the Beacon saw her walking on her own power and looked on in confusion. Weiss continued with her head held high and refused to give them the satisfaction of being a meek damsel," Hm.., " She looked around the ship. It looked slightly different from what the stories told, but that was to be expected. Stagnancy killed and it was to be expected that the Beacon would improve its capabilities. If the legends were true, it was hundreds of years old.

The blonde took her to an older woman she recognized as Glynda Goodwitch. The Siren stood next to a blonde young man wearing a rather dashing outfit. She eyed him up and down. Young and good looking enough with a smile she couldn't quite place. She looked past him, trying to find the head of silver hair she expected, and frowned when she saw no trace of the legendary pirate.

"Excuse me?" she said, "Where is Captain Ozpin? I believe he'll be interested in hearing what I have to say."

The blonde man's smile twitched slightly while Goodwitch sighed, "Ozpin is... no longer with us." She gestured to the young man next to her, "He was defeated in an honorable duel a few weeks ago." For some reason, a ginger woman and a monkey Faunus man suddenly started snickering, "Right now, Captain Jaune Arc is in charge of the Beacon. If you have something to say, then please say it to him, Ms. Schnee."

Both eyebrows rose and the heiress turned back to the young man. Him? He'd been the one to defeat Dread Pirate Ozpin, king of the four seas and scourge of the corrupt? She looked him up and down again. His face was handsome, but not in a way that would make him stand out from the crowd. His blonde hair was messy, his blue eyes looked at her with what looked like uncertainty, and his smile looked more awkward now that she was paying attention to him.

This young man was the captain? She felt an almost profound sense of disappointment wash over her before it suddenly clicked.

Appearances could be deceiving. That was one of the few good lessons father had taught her. The man in front of her - Captain Arc, she reminded herself - appeared to be no more than some naive city boy, but he'd defeated Dread Pirate Ozpin. The man who'd successfully evaded the Atlesian navy and survived countless duels against Admiral Ironwood. No mere man could defeat a legend, which could only mean that Captain Arc was...

Her face flushed slightly, the red color noticeable against her pale skin. He still looked at her with an odd boyish charm, but she knew now that it was calculated; meant to put her at ease. She almost smiled back. Clearly, this man was a clever sort, putting on the front of uncertainty in order to be underestimated. Dread Pirate Ozpin cut a dashing figure, and look where that got him. This Jaune Arc, whoever he was, was clearly a more intelligent sort. A different kind of legend in the making.

"I see." Weiss' lips curled in a charming smile, "Well then, Captain Arc, I suppose I should introduce myself properly." She curtsied, ignoring how out of place it looked, "My name is Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Trading Company. I'm sure you're interested in ransoming me back to my father, but I have an alternative in mind. Surely a man such as yourself understands the value of a good deal?"

"A... deal?" He looked to Goodwitch, who only raised an eyebrow in response. Silent communication. Clever. He turned back to her, "I mean, yes, of course, a deal. I'm sure a woman of your great standing knows all about making deals."

"Indeed." Weiss actually did smile. Jaune Arc clearly inherited his predecessor's cunning, "Well, I think we should speak privately, Captain. Also, I'm sure you have a brig prepared for normal prisoners, but I am not one of them. I will not be sleeping in a cell or bunking with your crew. A woman of my standing deserves better."

"Ah... right, right. Well, you can go to the Captain's cabin for now, Ms. Schnee. We can talk after we... well, clean up and plunder."

"Hm. I'd recommend the paintings." Weiss waved a hand airily, "Father wanted to send it as a wedding gift. Another way for him to flaunt his wealth, no doubt. I'll be in your quarters when you're ready to talk, Captain." She snapped her fingers, "Could someone please lead me there?"

"Uh, I'll do it!" A dark haired young woman eagerly bounded next to her, "Name's Ruby!"

"Weiss Schnee. Normally I'd insist on being called Ms. Schnee, but the current circumstances don't force formality. You may call me Weiss."

"Alright, Weiss! I think we're gonna get along great!"

"Hm. We'll see."

[line break]

Jaune was absolutely, completely, and utterly screwed.

He stood on the deck of the Beacon, watching Weiss Schnee disappear into his quarters with Ruby in tow, and slowly felt his soul leave his body. This wasn't supposed to happen! He only attacked the ship because it had the SDC flag flying high and proud, and that's what pirates did, right? They attacked corrupt corporate ships! It was practically a public service! Steal from the rich, and give (a portion) to the poor! He was being a hero!

Yang, of course, conveniently failed to mention one tiny, insignificant detail until AFTER they already sprang the attack: Weiss freaking Schnee was on board.

"Oh yeah," she'd said casually while swinging from a rope like it was no big deal, "That douchebag Cardin had his ship repaired in Patch a few weeks ago. Wouldn't stop bragging to anyone who'd listen about how he was getting married to a Schnee. Real asshole, that guy."

And now they'd kidnapped the heiress to the biggest, most powerful, most take-everything-personally company in all of Remnant.

... Sort of.

Jaune wasn't entirely sure it counted as kidnapping when the victim walked onto your ship voluntarily (while fully armed) and started making demands about private quarters. Weiss was taking her ship being attacked weirdly well, all things considered. Most people screamed, or cried, or at least looked a little upset about the whole "being captured by pirates" thing. Instead, Weiss looked... intrigued? Like this was exactly what she'd been hoping for?

He watched her walk away until she disappeared around the corner, and then felt his brain stop for entirely different reasons. He'd seen the governor's daughters before back home. Gwen Darcy and her friends, all dolled up for fancy parties and social gatherings, batting their eyelashes behind their fans. They were pretty enough, the kind of women who made young men in port towns dream impossible dreams of taking them away or marrying into luxury. He'd heard all the fantasies before in his nights at the tavern.

Weiss put them all to shame.

Even after getting kidnapped (sort of), she looked absolutely flawless. Her hair caught the sunlight like pure snow, her skin was flawless like a fine painting, and those icy blue eyes looked at him with an intelligence that made his stomach do weird flips. She moved with the kind of grace that came from years of etiquette training, but there was something else there too. A sharpness, like she was constantly calculating three moves ahead of everyone else. She wasn't scared. She looked like she was planning this.

If he were still back home, working some boring job and spending his evenings at the tavern, he probably would've been pining for her like the rest of the lads. Dreaming about some impossible fantasy where a girl like that would even notice a guy like him, let alone run away to-

The back of his head was smacked. Hard.

"Ow!" Jaune yelped, clutching the back of his head as he whirled around to face Glynda. His second-in-command was giving him the flattest, most unimpressed look he'd ever seen. Something that would've put Mama Arc to shame.

"No untoward actions towards hostages," she said firmly, adjusting her glasses, "We have a reputation to maintain, Captain. A professional reputation. You don't want to be like Tyrian Callows."

"I wasn't planning anything!" Jaune sputtered, his face turning red, "I was just- she's very- I mean, I just noticed that she's-"

"Attractive. Yes. I have eyes." Glynda's expression didn't change, "She's also the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Remnant, which makes her significantly more dangerous than her appearance suggests. Do try to remember that."

"I wasn't gonna do anything! Honest!"

"Mmm-hmm." Glynda's expression made it cleary she didn't buy a word of it.

"I wasn't!" Jaune protested, waving his hands frantically, "I was just... looking! You know, making sure she wasn't going to try to escape or pull a hidden weapon or something!" Nevermind that she was openly carrying a rapier and had dust vials in her corset, "That's normal captain behavior, right? Keeping an eye on prisoners?"

Glynda raised an eyebrow, "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Yes! That's exactly what we're calling it!"

Jaune was about to say something else, but Glynda clearly wasn't interested in his (honest) excuses. She turned to look at the raided ship being looted, hands clasped behind her back in that way that meant she was thinking through a problem, "Speaking of which," she said, her tone going from exasperated to grimly serious, "Kidnapping Ms. Schnee will incur the wrath of both the SDC and the Atlesian Navy. Jacques Schnee has more money than some small kingdoms, and he's not the type of man who forgives slights against his family. Admiral Ironwood will mobilize half the fleet to hunt us down, and that's if we're lucky."

Jaune felt his stomach drop into his boots, "If we're lucky?"

"If we're unlucky, Jacques will put a bounty on our heads so large that every pirate, bounty hunter, and mercenary in the four seas will be trying to collect it." Glynda's voice was perfectly calm, which somehow made it infinitely more terrifying, "Granted, he already had a standing bounty for the Beacon, but kidnapping his daughter is a slight not even Ozpin committed. I'm almost impressed at your audacity." She smiled slightly, "It's sink or swim now, Captain."

The weight of her words settled over him like a falling sail. This was it. This was the moment where his dreams of adventure and excitement crashed headfirst into reality. He wanted to be a legendary pirate, sure, but he'd been thinking more along the lines of "gradually building a reputation over several years". Instead, he'd (accidentally) killed the most legendary pirate in all of Remnant and followed up by kidnapping the daughter of a man richer than the king. And that wasn't hyperbole.

Glynda seemed to read his thoughts, "I recommend swimming."

"Swimming?" Jaune repeated weakly.

"Swimming," Glynda nodded, "Which means we need to be very, very careful about how we handle this situation. Ms. Schnee mentioned wanting to make a deal rather than be ransomed. That suggests she has something specific in mind. Information, perhaps, or some other form of leverage that's more valuable than the king's ransom Jacques would've paid for her. Whatever it is, it might be our only way out of this mess that doesn't end with the whole crew in gibbets for the next fifty years."

Jaune nodded numbly. Right. A deal. He could handle a deal. He was the captain now, after all. Captains made deals all the time. They parleyed. How hard could it be?

...

He was so screwed.

"Also," Glynda added, almost as an afterthought, "Try not to stare at her quite so obviously next time. It's undignified. You're the captain of the Beacon, please act like it."

Jaune's face turned an even deeper shade of red, "I wasn't staring!"

"Of course not, Captain." Glynda's tone suggested she believed that about as much as she'd believe him if he said he could fly, "Now, shall we see what our unexpected guest has to offer? The sooner we resolve this situation, the better our chances of survival."

Jaune squared his shoulders and tried to summon whatever confidence he had left, "Okay. I'm going to go talk to the most dangerous woman in Remnant, who could probably have me executed with a single word to her father, and try to make a deal that doesn't end with all of us at the bottom of the ocean."

"That's the spirit," Glynda said dryly, harsh enough to peel paint.

"...This is going to go horribly wrong, isn't it?"

"Almost certainly."

[line break]

Winter Schnee was absolutely furious.

Her boots clicked against the marble floors of the Atlesian Naval headquarters with the sharp, stabbing rhythm of barely contained rage. Her pristine white uniform was immaculate as always, her posture perfectly straight, her expression schooled into the kind of cold professionalism that had earned her respect throughout the entire navy despite her youth and familial background.

But beneath that controlled exterior, Winter was a tangled mess of ferocity and rage.

Her precious little sister had been kidnapped. Kidnapped! The audacity of it was beyond comprehension!

She'd received the report less than an hour ago from the surviving crew members of Weiss's escort ship, and every word had been like a dagger to her heart. Pirates had attacked without warning, overwhelmed the crew, and made off with her sister like she was some...some common strumpet! Winter's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she imagined what that pirate captain was doing to her right now.

Weiss was young. Innocent. Pure. She was everything good and noble about their family, untainted by the political machinations and corporate dealings that had hardened Winter over the years. She was the kind of woman that brought out the most base desires in those... those ruffians! Pirates had no concept of honor, no respect for nobility or virtue! They were lawless savages who took whatever they wanted without thought for the consequences!

Winter's mind conjured horrifying images of her sister's delicate hands being bound with rough rope while she screamed for her sister to save her. Images of some scarred, leering pirate captain dragging her into his quarters while his crew cheered and jeered. The thought made her stomach churn with rage.

Winter shook her head sharply, forcing herself to focus. She couldn't afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment, not when Weiss' safety was at stake. She needed to be calm and decisive.

She needed to get Admiral Ironwood to mobilize the fleet immediately.

She reached the Admiral's office and didn't bother knocking. All decorum forgotten in the face of family crisis, Winter pushed through the doors and strode inside. Admiral Ironwood looked up from his desk in surprise, blue eyes widening at her sudden entrance. He was a imposing man even while seated, broad-shouldered and strong-jawed, with graying hair that spoke to years of military service. A far more respectable figure than her own father. Under normal circumstances, Winter would have apologized for the breach of protocol.

These were not normal circumstances.

"Admiral," she said without preamble, her voice clipped and professional despite the fire burning in her chest, "My sister's ship was attacked not long ago. She's been kidnapped by the Beacon."

The admiral's expression immediately shifted from surprise to grim understanding mixed with a tinge of annoyance. He leaned back in his chair and let out a long, weary sigh, rubbing his temples with one hand, "Oz is really pushing his luck this time," he muttered, more to himself than to her, "Attacking a Schnee transport directly? That's bold, even for him." He looked up at Winter with the kind of tired resolve that came from years of dealing with the same persistent threat, "We'll make a deal. We always do. Ozpin's reasonable enough when it comes to ransoms, especially for high-profile hostages. Your sister will be home within the week. I'm sure Jacques is willing to pay for his-"

"Admiral," Winter interrupted, her voice sharp enough to cut steel, "Dread Pirate Ozpin is dead."

The admiral froze. The casual confidence drained from his face like water from a sinking ship, leaving behind something Winter had never seen before: genuine shock, "I beg your pardon?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Some new pirate calling himself Captain Arc was the one who committed this heinous deed," Winter continued, her voice growing colder with each word, "The surviving crew members were rather clear about that. He announced it to them, as if he wanted them to spread the word. This...This Arc killed Ozpin and took command of the Beacon. My sister is in the hands of a complete unknown." She grit her teeth. Ozpin was a nuisance, but he was a known quantity, and she almost respected him for attacking Jacques' commerce. This Arc was a different breed of savage.

For a long moment, Admiral Ironwoodsaid nothing. He just stared at her, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide with disbelief. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, "Repeat that."

"Dread Pirate Ozpin is dead," Winter said again, each word carefully enunciated, "Killed by the hands of this new...I don't even know what to call him. This Arc." She leaned forward slightly, her composure cracking just enough to let her desperation show through, "Admiral, we need to act immediately. We have no idea what kind of man this Captain Arc is, what he's capable of, or what he might do to Weiss. For all we know, he could be some bloodthirsty savage who-"

"I see," Ironwood said suddenly, his voice flat and emotionless. He stood up slowly, like a man in a trance, and turned to stare out the window at the harbor below. The hands folded behind his back shook with barely suppressed rage for her sister's safety, "Please ready the ship, Commodore Schnee. We need to...to confront this Arc." He said the name like a curse. Good.

Winter nodded gratefully, relief flooding through her chest. The admiral clearly understood the gravity of the situation, "Thank you, Admiral. I'll have the crew prepared for immediate departure within the hour." She turned sharply on her heel and strode toward the door, her mind already racing through tactical considerations. They would need to move fast, strike hard, and rescue Weiss before this Captain Arc could do anything irreversible. The thought of her innocent little sister in the hands of some unknown pirate made her stomach churn, but at least now they had a plan.

And if it came down to it, she'd sacrifice herself to swap places with Weiss. She could take whatever abuse those sea thieves could dish out. Anything to protect Weiss and keep her innocence intact. Whatever this Captain Arc would do to her, she would not break.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she heard a loud slam from inside the office follow by a muffled scream.

Winter nodded approvingly as she continued down the hallway. Clearly, Admiral Ironwood saw this situation as seriously as she did. He was obviously as outraged as she was about what this Captain Arc might be doing to poor, innocent Weiss right now. They needed to save her sister before her purity was tainted by that villain's vile machinations!

The rescue couldn't come soon enough.

[line break]

Poor Jaune. Kidnaps the most powerful woman in Remnant (who thinks he must be a cunning genius), Winter wants him dead, and now Ironwood is malding because his rivalry with his old roommate (oh my god, they were roommates) was cut short.

Question:

1. So we got Weiss (plus Ruby and Yang earlier), we've still got Pyrrha, Blake, and Penny. Who do you guys wanna see next? Note that they're not gonna be recruited next chapter. Still gotta deal with Weiss' "kidnapping".

Update

Sorry for the delay again. Writing out the next Pirate Jaune chapter then maybe something with a harem twist.

Also, for the next chapter of Maid Jaune, who do you guys want? If I'm not mistaken, Winter was considered the choice, but I'm not sure. I could also go for Cinder, Ren/Nora threesome, or Blake.

Silver-Eyed Angel (Jaune x Summer smut)

Jaune x Summer NSFW commission. Guy wanted a dating app story where Jaune somehow doesn't realize Ruby's proto-clone wasn't her mom.

[line break]

Jaune dragged himself through the door of Team JNPR's dorm room, his legs feeling like jelly after another grueling training session. His teammates filed in behind him, each in various states of exhaustion. Well, except for Pyrrha, who looked like she could probably run a few more laps around Beacon's combat arena without breaking a sweat.

"Ugh, I think I left my soul back at the training grounds," Jaune groaned, flopping face-first onto his bed. The springs creaked ominously under his weight.

"Your soul's fine, Jaune-Jaune!" Nora chirped, somehow already bouncing back to her usual energetic self, "It's your dating life that needs CPR!"

Jaune's head shot up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, "My what now?"

Ren, his brother from another mother, settled onto his own bed and pressed his hands together, "What Nora means is that you've been so focused on training and schoolwork that you haven't really... branched out socially."

"Branched out?" Jaune blinked owlishly at him. He wasn't exactly wrong. Ever since he stopped flirting with Weiss (who was now happily going out with Blake, somehow), he'd focused more on his training. Which was good. He couldn't coast on his faked transcripts and his team carrying him forever. Now he was…decent.

"You know," Nora said, waggling her eyebrows dramatically, "Romance! Love! Smooching under the moonlight!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaune noticed Pyrrha perk up slightly, straightening from where she'd been organizing her weapons. Her emerald eyes seemed brighter suddenly, and there was something expectant in her expression that he couldn't quite place, "I mean..." Jaune scratched the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up his collar, "I guess you guys are right. I've been pretty focused on not dying in combat class lately."

"Exactly!" Nora bounced on her toes, "You're nineteen, Jaune! You should be out there, meeting people, finding someone special!" Ironic coming from someone who still insisted her and Ren were "togehter but not together-together". Glass houses much?

Ren nodded sagely, "It might be good for you to explore that side of yourself. You've grown a lot since we started at Beacon."

Jaune glanced around at his teammates, noting how they all seemed to be watching him with varying degrees of interest. Even Pyrrha had abandoned her weapon maintenance entirely, though she was trying to look casual about it,"You know what? You two are right," he said, sitting up straighter and suddenly feeling more confident, "I should put myself out there! I've been thinking about making a dating app account anyway. Seems like as good a time as any, right?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Nora's enthusiastic expression faltered, "A... dating app?"

"Yeah!" Jaune was warming up to the idea now, actually. It seemed so obvious "I mean, that's how people meet nowadays, right? Swipe left, swipe right, find your soulmate?" A year ago he would've considered it so… unromantic. But a year ago he also thought serenading Weiss after she told him not to was being charming.

"But Jaune," Ren said carefully, "Don't you think maybe you should consider people you already know? People who might already be interested in-"

"Nah, fresh start and all that," Jaune waved him off, pulling out his scroll, "Besides, I need to expand my horizons! Can't just stick to the same old routine forever." That was what half of what being a Huntsman was about, right? Adventure, finding new experiences, going out of your comfort zone.

He downloaded the app with a grin, already mapping out what his profile would be like, when he heard Pyrrha make a noise. When he glanced up at her a moment later, she suddenly looked exhausted and dead-eyed, "You okay, Pyrrha? You look beat. Training must have really taken it out of you today."

She managed a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Yes, just... tired. I think I'll turn in early tonight."

"Good idea," Jaune said, already absorbed in setting up his profile, "Rest up! Tomorrow's another day of getting our butts kicked by Professor Goodwitch."

[line break]

Three days later, Jaune was idly swiping through potential matches during his lunch break when his scroll buzzed with a notification that made his heart skip a beat.

New Match!

He nearly choked on his sandwich as the profile loaded. SunderedRose39 smiled back at him from the screen, and Jaune felt his brain absolutely short-circuit. She was gorgeous. Pale skin that seemed to glow the photo's lighting, black hair with striking red tips that caught the light just right, and the most beautiful silver eyes he'd ever seen.

Something nagged at the back of his mind, a weird sense of familiarity, but he quickly shook it off. He probably just had a type or something. Like Weiss. He found her snow white skin super attractive.

He quickly swiped right. His own profile name, BeaconsBlondeKnight, popped up on the screen. Short, sweet, rolled off the tongue. Ladies would love it, right?

Apparently, this particular lady did.

A few minutes later - minutes he spent trying very hard not to stare at his scroll like a lovesick puppy - another notification popped up.

It's a Match!

"YES!" Jaune fist-pumped so hard he nearly launched his scroll across the cafeteria. A few nearby students turned to stare, but he was too elated to care. The messaging interface opened up, and after staring at the blank text box for what felt like an eternity, he finally typed out what he hoped was a smooth opening line.

BeaconsBlondeKnight: Hey there! Great profile pics. That smile could light up all of Vale :D

The response came faster than he'd expected.

SunderedRose39: Well, aren't you a charmer! Thank you, that's very sweet. I have to say, your profile caught my eye too. A Huntsman-in-training?

BeaconsBlondeKnight: Guilty as charged! Second year at Beacon Academy. Still learning the ropes but getting there. What about you? Are you from Vale?

SunderedRose39: Born in Vale but I actually live on Patch now. I travel quite a bit for work though. It's nice to meet someone with such noble aspirations. The world needs more people willing to protect others.

They chatted back and forth for the better part of an hour, and Jaune found himself grinning like an idiot at his scroll. She was funny, smart, and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. When she mentioned she had two daughters, he just nodded along. Single mom, totally respectable, and honestly kind of impressive that she was managing it all.

Most people might've been weirded out to try dating someone with kids, especially at his age, but Jaune wasn't fussed. Like his dad always said: age just meant the wine got more fine.

SunderedRose39: I have to ask, and forgive me if this is too forward, but would you like to meet for coffee sometime? I know a lovely little cafe in Vale that makes the best cookies. Very casual, no pressure.

Jaune's heart hammered against his ribs as he typed back his response.

BeaconsBlondeKnight: I'd love that! When works for you?

SunderedRose39: How about this Saturday afternoon? Around 2 PM? The place is called "Crumb & Chronicle". It's cozy and quiet, perfect for getting to know each other better.

BeaconsBlondeKnight: Perfect! I'll be there. Looking forward to it!

SunderedRose39: Me too :) See you Saturday!

Jaune set his scroll down and leaned back in his chair, a dopey grin spreading across his face. He had a date! An actual date with a gorgeous woman who seemed genuinely interested in him. He should've done this ages ago!

"Heya, Vomit Boy!" Yang's voice cut through his reverie as she dropped into the seat across from him with her usual Yang-ness, "You look like someone just told you Nondescript Winter Holiday came early. What's got you so happy?"

Jaune quickly flipped his scroll face-down, his cheeks reddening, "Oh, uh, nothing much! Just... had a good day in Professor Port's class."

Yang raised an eyebrow, "Port's class made you grin like that? Either you've lost your mind or you're lying through your teeth. I'm guessing your pants are on fire."

"I'm not lying!" Jaune said just bit too quickly, "It was very... educational."

"Uh-huh." Yang leaned back in her chair, clearly not buying it, "Come on, spill. What's really going on?"

But Jaune just shook his head, shoving his scroll into his pocket. Yang would absolutely never let him live it down if she found out he was using a dating app. He could already imagine the endless teasing, the jokes, the way she'd probably want to "help" by looking over his shoulder and critiquing his messages. No way. He wasn't gonna let her make him look like an ass to SunderedRose39.

No, this was definitely staying secret until after the date. Maybe longer.

"Really, it's nothing," he said, standing up to clear his tray, "Just having a good day, that's all."

Yang watched him go with narrowed eyes, clearly suspicious but not interested enough to actually bother him about it. Jaune heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe he'd survive to get to his date this saturday.

[line break]

Saturday couldn't come fast enough. Jaune spent the better part of Friday evening agonizing over what to wear, much to his teammates' confusion (and Pyrrha's lingering looks, for some reason). He'd settled on his nicest pair of dark jeans, a button-down shirt that Pyrrha once complimented, and his least scuffed boots. Nothing too fancy, but definitely a step up from his usual hoodie and old pants combination.

Now, standing outside Crumb & Chronicle at exactly 1:58 PM, Jaune felt like his heart might actually beat right out of his chest. He'd arrived early; partly out of nerves, partly because he wanted to make a good impression. The cafe was exactly as cozy as SunderedRose39 said with warm lighting spilling through large windows and the rich aroma of coffee drifting onto the street.

He was checking his reflection in the window for the third time when he spotted her walking up the sidewalk, and his breath caught in his throat.

She looked even better than her photos. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders in gentle waves, the red tips catching the afternoon sunlight like flames. She wore a white blouse with subtle red accents that hugged her figure perfectly, paired with a black skirt that hit just above her knees, dark stockings, and practical but stylish boots. The whole ensemble was effortlessly put-together. Fashionable but not overdone, practical but undeniably attractive.

When their eyes met through the window, she smiled, and Jaune felt his knees go a little weak. Those silver eyes were even more stunning in person, bright and warm and completely captivating. She winked - gods, that did things to him - and walked to the entrance, "BeaconsBlondeKnight, I presume?" she said as she approached, her voice carrying a musical quality that made something flutter in his chest.

"That's me!" Jaune said, then immediately cringed at how lame and eager he sounded, "I mean, yes, hi, you look amazing. Not that you don't always look amazing, I'm sure, I just meant-"

She laughed, a gentle sound that put him slightly more at ease, "You're sweet. And you clean up pretty nicely yourself." She extended her hand, "I'm Summer."

"Jaune," he said, taking her hand and trying not to think about how soft her skin was or how perfectly her fingers fit with his, "It's really nice to finally meet you in person." Well, "finally" in quotation marks considering they started chatting like four days ago, but they'd been talking whenever they could. Professor Goodwitch wasn't happy about how sleepy he was in classes after he spent all night chatting.

"Likewise," Summer said as she sat across from him, "I'm dying for some of their chocolate chip cookies."

The waitress took their orders - coffee for him, tea for her, and a plate of cookies to share - and they settled into easy conversation.

"So," Summer said, wrapping her hands around her mug, "Beacon treating you well?"

"Yeah, it's pretty great," Jaune said, "I mean, the professors are tough. Professor Goodwitch could probably level a city block with her riding crop, but you learn a lot."

"Oh, I bet," Summer said with a laugh, "Glynda's always been a bit of a harsh taskmaster. Training must be way different than when I went through it."

"Wait, you went to Beacon?"

"Yep! Though it feels like forever ago." Summer took a sip of her tea, "Still hunting actually. My babies are at Beacon now, so I can finally take the longer missions again."

"Your kids go to Beacon?" Jaune blinked, "But you look so young!"

Summer laughed, "You're sweet, but I'm thirty-nine. Username says it all."

"No way. Seriously?" Jaune shook his head, "That's crazy. You could pass for my age easy."

"Flatterer," Summer said, but she was smiling, "Perks of Aura and a good lifestyle. You wouldn't think Ozpin was 55 if it wasn't for his gray hair." She leaned back on her chair and sighed. He tried his best to be a gentleman and NOT look down below her neck where her… generous bosom (because boobs sounded crass) shifted slightly, "So what's your team like?"

"They're awesome," Jaune said, "My partner Pyrrha's probably the best fighter I've ever seen. And Nora and Ren are like this perfect unit, you know? They just click."

"Sounds like a good team," Summer said, "You're the leader?"

"Yeah, somehow," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Still figuring that part out though."

"Leadership's tough. You'll get the hang of it." Summer broke off a piece of cookie and ate it, "What kind of missions have you been on?"

"Mostly training stuff so far. Some Grimm clearing around the city. Nothing too crazy yet." He paused, "What about you? You must have some good stories."

Summer's eyes lit up, "Oh, I've got a few. Just got back from tracking some Beowolves that were getting too close to a settlement. Normal stuff, but they were being led by an Ancient. Grimm that have survived for decades. Took three days to corner the pack leader."

"That sounds amazing," Jaune said, leaning forward, "Was it a big one?"

"Huge. Probably twice the size of a normal Alpha." Summer gestured with her hands, "Had these massive claws, and it was smart too. Kept using the terrain to its advantage." There was something about how excited she was to tell the story that made his heart flutter, "It's the oldest ones that become the smartest. Actual predators instead of just a swarm."

"How'd you take it down?"

"Patience mostly. Waited for it to make a mistake." Summer grinned, "Then put a rifle round right between its eyes."

Jaune smiled at her, "That's so cool. I hope I can handle missions like that someday."

"You will," Summer said confidently, "Just takes practice. And a good team you can trust. Some teams stay past graduation, but those are rare. Your team sounds like it'll be the outlier."

They kept talking, the conversation flowing easily between Beacon stories, mission tales, and random topics. Jaune found himself completely absorbed in everything about her. Tthe way she talked with her hands when she got excited about a story, how she actually listened when he spoke, the way her silver eyes seemed to sparkle when she laughed.

Something about her felt familiar, like he'd seen her somewhere before, but every time he tried to focus on that feeling, he'd get distracted by her smile or the way she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Want to order another round?" Summer asked, glancing at their empty mugs.

"Definitely," Jaune said quickly. He wasn't ready for this to end anytime soon.

After their third round of drinks and what felt like hours of easy conversation, they were talking about combat styles when Jaune mentioned his weapon, "Just a sword and shield, pretty basic stuff," he said with a shrug. Some of his friends still gave him crap for not having mechashift or upgrading to it. Pyrrha even offered to spot him the lien, but he refused. He wouldn't take advantage of his best friend (besides Ruby) like that.

Summer raised an eyebrow, "No ranged options at all?"

"Nope. Old school, I guess."

"Hmm," Summer said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "You know, there's actually a really good weapons shop just down the street. Want to check it out? You might want to consider adding something with range to your arsenal."

Jaune perked up. Ruby had been bugging him about getting a gun for weeks now, saying he was too dependent on close combat. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity.

"That... actually sounds really cool. Are you sure?"

"Are you kidding? I love looking at weapons," Summer said with a grin, "Come on, I know a thing or two about weapons. My little Rosebud got it from me." She called her daughter 'Rosebud'? Cute.

The shop turned out to be exactly the kind of place Jaune imagined weapon enthusiasts (like Ruby and Pyrrha) would love. Wall-to-wall displays of every kind of armament imaginable, from simple swords to complex transforming mechanisms that probably required an engineering degree to operate.

"Okay, so what kind of range are we talking about?" Summer said, immediately gravitating toward a display of rifles, "Close-to-medium? Long range sniping? Something that transforms?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," Jaune shrugged lightly, "I'm pretty new to this whole weapons thing besides knowing where the pointy end is. My sword's about as fancy as I get."

Summer's eyes lit up like she just saw her favorite puzzle, "Alright, let's start with the basics then. You're primarily a close-combat fighter, right? So you want something that complements that style rather than replacing it." She moved through the shop with both expertise and glee, pointing out different options and explaining the pros and cons of each. Her enthusiasm was infectious. The way she handled each weapon, the technical details she rattled off, the way she considered his fighting style and physical build when making suggestions.

The way she talked about weapons reminded him of someone, actually. The enthusiasm, the technical knowledge, the way she got that gleam in her eye when she found something particularly interesting. It was almost exactly like Ruby. But that was probably just a coincidence. Not every weapons enthusiast was Ruby, right?

"This might work," Summer said, hefting a compact rifle, "It's got good stopping power but won't weigh you down. Pretty reliable, too. With Aura-enhanced strength, you can use it one-handed, though you'll need to learn how to aim properly and compensate for recoil. I've used this model before and it never let me down."

"You really know your stuff," Jaune said, "How long have you been into weapons?"

"Since I was a kid, really. My dad got me started early." Summer moved to another display, "Oh, this is nice too. Shotgun, so you don't have to worry as much about precision. Good for crowd control if you're facing multiple Grimm." She hefted up a stubby double barrel, "This one's basic. No frills and limited customization potential, plus it's two shots or nothing, but most double barrel configurations can use any combination of Dust rounds. Plus there's nothing like killing a Grimm with a boomstick!"

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience." Jaune laughed.

"It took me years to get my personal weapon. I tried everything. Semi-auto pistols, revolvers, shotguns, assault rifles, combat rifles, snipers. Needed to find my perfect partner. Oh! What do you think of this one?" Summer asked, holding up another rifle.

They spent the next couple hours going through different options, with Summer patiently explaining everything and letting him get a feel for various weapons. She was an amazing teacher; knowledgeable but not condescending, enthusiastic without being overwhelming.

By the time they finally left the shop - Jaune now the proud owner of a new compact 5.56 rifle that Summer had helped him pick out - it was completely dark outside, "Wow, we were in there forever," Jaune said, checking his scroll. His face immediately fell, "Oh no."

"What's wrong?"

"Beacon's curfew was an hour ago," Jaune said, running a hand through his hair, "The last bullhead back to the academy left already."

"Oh no, I'm sorry," Summer said with a frown, "I completely lost track of time. I shouldn't have kept you out so late."

"No, no, it's not your fault," Jaune said quickly, "I should have been paying attention too. I was just having such a good time, I didn't even think about it."

As if on cue, it started to rain. Not just a light drizzle, but a proper downpour that had them both ducking under the shop's awning. Jaune did his best to be a gentleman and not look at Summer's blouse, which was wet from the suddden rain. Not even when he saw a hint of what looked like a red lace bra.

"Great," Jaune muttered, watching the water come down in sheets, "This is just perfect." He sighed, looking thoughtful, "I mean... I do have enough money for a hotel room somewhere, but..." He trailed off, doing quick mental math on his finances. Yeah, he could afford it, but it would definitely put a dent in his budget for the month taking the rifle into account..

"Actually," Summer said, glancing at her scroll, "The bullheads to Patch are still running. I was going to head home anyway, and I've got a guest room if you don't mind staying the night. Assuming that's not too forward of me to suggest."

Jaune stared at her, "You'd really let me crash at your place?"

"Of course. It's partly my fault you missed curfew anyway." Summer smiled, "Besides, it's just practical. Better than spending money on a hotel when there's a perfectly good guest room available."

Jaune's brain went through several rapid calculations. On one hand, staying overnight at a woman's house on the first date was either a really good sign or a really bad one. On the other hand, he was already completely smitten with her, and the alternative was either an expensive hotel room or trying to explain to Professor Goodwitch why he'd broken curfew. Either he was about to get very lucky, or Summer was going to harvest his organs and sell them on the black market.

Honestly, at this point, it was a chance he was willing to take.

"If you're sure it's not too much trouble," Jaune said, "That'd be great. Thanks."

"No trouble at all," Summer said, already pulling out her scroll to check the bullhead schedule, "The next one to Patch leaves in twenty minutes. We should probably head to the station."

As they hurried through the rain toward the transport station, Jaune couldn't help but grin despite getting soaked. This had turned out to be the most unexpectedly perfect first date of his life. And now he was going to spend the night at Summer's place.

Maybe his luck was finally starting to turn around. Everything was coming up Jaune!

[line break]

The bullhead ride to Patch had been mercifully dry, but the moment they stepped off onto the small island's dock, they were hit with another wall of rain.

"My place isn't far," Summer said, raising her voice over the sound of the downpour, "But we're going to have to make a run for it!"

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and took off at a sprint down a tree-lined path. Jaune followed, his new rifle case bouncing against his back as they ran through puddles and around fallen branches. The rain was coming down harder than ever, soaking through their clothes within seconds.

Even in the middle of what was essentially a soggy disaster, Jaune couldn't help but notice how Summer moved - graceful and sure-footed even while running through the storm. The rain had plastered her hair to her face and was making her clothes cling to her in ways that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. He tried to focus on not tripping over any roots, but his eyes kept drifting back to her.

After what felt like an eternity of running but was probably only ten minutes, Summer's cabin came into view through the trees. It was cozy and welcoming, with warm light spilling from the windows and smoke rising from the chimney.

"Almost there!" Summer called over her shoulder.

They stumbled up onto the covered porch, both of them breathing hard and absolutely drenched. Summer fumbled with her keys for a moment before getting the door open, and they practically fell inside.

"Oh wow," Jaune said, pushing his soaked hair back from his face and trying to catch his breath, "That was intense."

"Sorry about that," Summer said, closing the door behind them, "I should've checked the weather before we left Vale."

Jaune turned to respond and immediately felt his brain short-circuit. Summer was wringing water from the edge of her blouse, the wet fabric clinging to her figure in a way that made his mouth go dry. Water droplets were still running down her neck and disappearing beneath her collar, and her hair was hanging in damp waves around her face. And yes, she definitely was wearing red lace under that blouse. The crimson fabric was blood stark against the wet blouse.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to look somewhere else - anywhere else - before he made an ass of himself, "Don't worry about it," he managed to say, his voice coming out slightly rougher than intended, "It's not like you control the weather."

Summer glanced down at herself and then at him, both of them standing in small puddles on her entryway floor, "We're both absolutely soaked. You should probably get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold." Jaune's brain immediately went to several places it probably shouldn't have, and he felt heat rise in his cheeks despite the chill from his wet clothes, "The bathroom's just down the hall," she continued, apparently oblivious to his internal struggle, "Why don't you take a shower first? I can throw your clothes in the dryer while you're cleaning up."

"Are you sure?" Jaune asked, "I don't want to impose any more than I already am."

"You're not imposing," Summer said with a smile, "Besides, you're shivering. Go get warmed up, and I'll find you something dry to wear."

She was right. Now that the adrenaline from their run through the rain was wearing off, Jaune was starting to feel the cold. His clothes were clinging uncomfortably to his skin, and he could feel water still dripping from his hair, "Okay," he said with a grateful smile, "Thanks, Summer. Really."

"Don't mention it," she said, already heading toward what he assumed was her bedroom, "Towels are in the cabinet next to the shower. Take your time!"

As Jaune made his way down the hall toward the bathroom, he couldn't help but marvel at how this day had turned out. This morning he'd been nervous about a simple coffee date, and now here he was, about to shower in the home of the most amazing woman he'd ever met.

Maybe getting caught in the rain wasn't such bad luck after all.

The hot shower was exactly what he needed. The warmth seeped into his bones, washing away the chill from the rain and helping him relax for the first time since they'd gotten caught in the downpour. Summer left a neatly folded set of clothes on the bathroom counter. A simple t-shirt and shorts that were obviously meant for a man, though he tried not to think too hard about why she had men's clothes ready and waiting

The shirt was a bit loose on him, and the shorts were slightly baggy, but they were dry and comfortable. Much better than his soggy clothes, which were now presumably tumbling around in Summer's dryer somewhere.

Jaune ran the towel through his hair one more time, trying to get it somewhat presentable, then opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway.

And immediately froze.

Summer came out from what he assumed was her bedroom...and she was wearing nothing but a towel. A small towel. A towel that seemed determined to showcase exactly how stunning she was, hugging every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. Her damp hair fell over one shoulder, and droplets of water were still beaded on her skin. His comment about how she looked barely older than him surfaced in his mind again. How was this woman 39?!

Jaune felt his brain completely shut down. He stood there like a statue, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything except stare with what he was pretty sure was the most obvious expression of shock and leering in human history.

Summer noticed him standing there and smiled. Not embarrassed or flustered, but confident and maybe just a little amused by his reaction, "Feel better?" she asked, as casually as if she were fully dressed and they were still at the coffee shop.

Jaune opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. His throat felt like it had been lined with sandpaper.

Summer's smile widened, and she actually had the audacity to wink at him before nudging her head to the room she just came out of, "So...this is a bit awkward-" Awkward?! Really? He didn't notice! "-but the guest room is actually pretty dusty. It's been a while since I've had guests over once the empty nest happened." She sighed, but there was a twinkle in her eye, "Maybe you want to come into my room instead? Much neater."

"I...yeah, that sounds great..." His eyes were locked onto her breasts without shame now. A drop of water fell from her neck into the valley of her cleavage,

"Great!" She gestured for him to go first. With a lot of difficulty, Jaune tore his away from her tits (he was past being a gentleman at this point) and slowly padded his way inside the room, bare feet heavy against the wooden floor. His breaths came out on soft, shallow exhales that left him feeling lightheaded. He wasn't the smartest guy, he knew that, but this was pretty hard to misinterpret. Inviting him to her room, the towel, that gods damned wink...

And then he heard the towel fall.

Jaune almost turned around before slender, powerful arms wrapped around his chest, "Ah, ah, ah. Slow down there." Her voice was soft and hot against his right ear. She must've been standing on her tiptoes, the small, logical part of his mind said, but he barely paid that tidbit any mind, "You're a smart guy, Jaune. You know what I'm asking for, but I need to know that you want this too-"

"YES!" Jaune cringed at how desperate he sounded, but at this point, he didn't care.

"Good boy." A shiver went down his spine, "Turn around."

He did. Jaune turned and was met with one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Summer's figure was lean but muscled, the result of years - decades, he reminded himself - of Huntress work. Her pale skin was marred with light scars that only enhanced how gorgeous she was. That was real, unlike the airbrushed and perfect models most of the guys at Beacon looked at. The imperfections and blemishes only made him harder.

The rest of her was just as stunning. Firm, round breasts with pretty pink nipples that were already stiff from arousal. A lightly shaved pussy with lips that were already moist from both arousal and her shower. And those eyes...fuck, they were the hottest thing there. Silver orbs twinkling with confidence and mischief, looking at him with an unreadable expression that made his knees weak and his cock hard. Again, he ignored the sudden burst of familiarity he felt. There were more important things to worry about.

"Are you going to just stand there?" she raised a brow.

"O-Oh!" Jaune shimmied out of the clothes like his life depended on it. By the time his boxers came down, his dick was already standing at attention. It practically shot past the waistband of his boxers like a flagpole going at full salute. Summer's eyes flicked down from his face, to his abs (thank you, Pyrrha), to his aching cock. Her tongue slipped out between plush lips, turning the the surface wet. His cock twitched at the sight of it.

"Mmm, someone's eager," Summer whispered, voice throaty with barely restrained desire. Before he could respond, she suddenly pushed him with one hand. Huntress-trained strength left him stumbling and Jaune fell ass-first into the soft bed. He looked up just in time to see Summer getting on her knees before his spread legs, "It's been a while since I did this, so sorry if I'm a bit clumsy." Hearing that coming from a woman who looked 25 at most was surreal.

Of course, any thoughts about that went away as soon as Summer's tongue touched the underside of his dick.

Jaune gasped as the hot, wet organ slowly slid up the pillar of flesh. Summer's tongue went from base to tip, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. When she finally reached the head, she pressed her lips against it in a kiss before pulling back, "You look like you enjoyed that," she murmured, right cheek pressed against the side of his member. His hands held the blankets under him in a vice grip. It he didn't, he would've grabbed Summer's head and shoved her mouth down his dick till she choked on it.

Summer's eyes flicked over to his clenched fists and she laughed softly. Without another word, she continued. This time she started from the top to the bottom, leaving another trail until she reached his churning balls. Her lips wrapped around the wrinkled skin and she sucked with just the right amount of force to avoid pain. He almost laughed. She said she was "a bit clumsy" but was doing better than a high class escort. Then again, maybe he was biased.

She sucked on his other ball before lavishing more attention on his dick again. Instead of using her time, she left a trail of kisses to the right side of his twitching member, leaving him gasping and heaving as he struggled to not blow his load right then and there, "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jaune muttered, repeating the curse over and over as Summer switched from right to left, seemingly determined to make sure every inch of his dick was marked.

When she finally reached the tip again, she pulled back. Jaune let out a strangled sound at the sudden lack of contact before she laughed again, "Now, now, no need to worry. I'm not going anywhere." And then Jaune watched, utterly bug-eyed, as Summer spread her boobs before engulfing his dick between her cleavage. The pale mountains felt warm and soft against him and Jaune's breathing quickened. Holy shit, holy shit, holy sh-

"Pay attention now." Summer said - commanded - softly. She moved her tits up and down and leaned forward. She opened her mouth and swallowed the head peeking out from the valley of her cleavage. The warm wetness mixed with the gentle pressure against his cock's flank was making him see white. He was babbling now, he knew that, but he was far beyond giving a shit about trying to look controlled. Not with Summer bobbing up and down his dick while giving him the most amazing boobjob on Remnant.

He was close now, he could feel it. Jaune forced himself to speak coherently, "S-Summer, I'm gonna-"

"It's okay. Let it all out."

Jaune shut his eyes and let go. Instead of pulling back, Summer kept her lips wrapped around him and swallowed the absolute deluge of cum that shot out and painted her mouth white. There wasn't a single drop spilled and she swallowed it all without missing a beat. By the time she was done, she pulled back from his cock and politely wiped her mouth like she'd just sampled wine instead of swallowing a torrent of jizz.

"Mmm...you're quite healthy, aren't, you Jaune?" She looked up at him with that mischeievous twinkle in her eyes. His cock was already getting hard again, "You've been holding back for a while, hm?"

"I was...well, I was training." It wasn't even a lie, though the other reason was that he lived with three roommates, two of whom happened to be attractive girls who had horrific senses of timing. He swore Pyrrha walked in every single time he tried to jerk one out. Then she talked about how she needed a shower and not to mind her. Almost like she was doing it on purpose. But nah, that would've been silly.

"How studious." She stood up and Jaune looked down at her body again. He knew all Huntresses were hot - Aura and an active lifestyle pretty much assured it as long as you didn't get maimed in combat - but Summer was like...like Glynda-tier.

"I..."

"Hm? Use your words, Jaune." She smirked.

"I...I wanna fuck you so bad..." Crude, but honest. At this point he was beyond being smooth.

"Ask and you shall receive." She walked to the other side of the bed and gracefully laid down, silently daring him to make the next move. Jaune gasped and got on his hands and knees, looming over her. It was only now that he was reminded of how short she was. He'd always been on the tall side and Summer barely came up to his torso in height. Still, the way she looked at him made it clear that she had all the power here.

His dick was already hard again and ready for another round, "Should I..." He cursed himself for being a virgin. But in his defense, how the hell was he supposed to know he'd get lucky on the first date?!

Summer rolled her eyes playfully and grabbed his ass, "No need for foreplay, Jaune. I think we've both had enough of that."

"Right..." He shifted his hips till the tip of his member was aimed straight at her entrance. Taking a deep breath, he slowly slid himself inside.

It felt...amazing. The porn he read always talked about how tight sex felt. He had to remind himself again that Summer was an experienced woman with over two decades on him. The thought of that only made him harder. He always did have a thing for older women. His first crush was Terra before...well, his sister ended up with her. Saphron still teased him about it.

"Jaune..." His eyes flicked down to Summer's face. Her cheeks were flushed red and she was breathing out softly, "Kiss me."

Jaune gulped and leaned down. Summer's lips were soft and warm. A part of him almost recoiled considering where that mouth had been just minutes ago, but he shut it mouth opened slightly and their tongues met, pushing and fighting against one another.

Meanwhile, his hips moved on autopilot, pistoning in and out of Summer's snatch like a jackhammer. He knew he wouldn't last much longer. He was still sensitive from the first orgasm and Summer was just...she was intoxicating. He felt drunk just being near her. Her scent, her taste, her warmth...

"Mmm~" Summer moaned against him. That was the last straw. Jaune shut his eyes as he came for the second time right into Summer's inner walls, coating her insides white. It was a bad idea - unprotected sex with a woman he just met - but right now, he just didn't care. He kept his dick sheathed inside her as he pumped load after load of his seed inside her. Underneath him, Summer came too, her juices mixing with his with both splattering against their thighs and the blanket.

The two of them finally separated after seconds of just breathing against one another. Jaune (reluctantly) pulled back, exhaling through his mouth and trying to ignore just how lightheaded he felt. He rolled over and collapsed next to her on the bed, looking up at the celing with half-lidded eyes. Just barely, he noticed Summer grab a couple of pills from the bedside cabinet and swallow them dry. Morning after pills, his mind supplied. She was prepared.

Summer scooted back to his side and cuddled with him, her breasts pressing against his arm. Jaune smiled and closed his eyes, still thanking his lucky stars that he took team JNPR's advice to put himself out there. Best advice he ever took.

[line break]

Jaune woke slowly, feeling more relaxed and content than he had in months. The bed was soft (if slightly sticky), and there was a warm weight pressed against his side that made him want to just stay here forever. The events of the previous night felt almost dreamlike. The amazing date, getting caught in the rain, and then... everything that happened after. He smiled to himself, eyes still closed, and was just starting to drift back toward sleep when he heard voices downstairs.

"-can't believe she didn't tell us she was coming back early," a familiar voice said.

"Maybe she wanted to surprise us?" another voice replied, equally familiar but somehow wrong in this context.

Jaune's eyes snapped open. Those voices... they sounded exactly like...

"Come on, let's go surprise her," the first voice said, and Jaune heard footsteps on the stairs.

No. No no no no no.

He sat up in bed just as the bedroom door swung open, and found himself staring directly at Yang and Ruby. They were both grinning and chatting as they walked in, clearly expecting to find anything but their friend naked on the bed.

Yang stepped into the room first, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Right behind her was Ruby, her silver eyes bright with excitement that immediately transformed into something else entirely when she saw what was in the bed.

All three of them froze.

For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The three of them just stared at each other in absolute, horrified silence.

Ruby's expression went through several rapid changes. Confusion, recognition, disbelief, and finally what could only be described as complete and utter betrayal. Her silver eyes, so much like Summer's, went wide with shock.

Yang's reaction was more immediate and infinitely more terrifying. Her lilac eyes flashed red so fast Jaune wasn't sure he'd actually seen the transition, and her entire body went rigid with barely contained rage.

Nobody said a word. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds.

It was only now, looking directly at Ruby's face - those puresilver eyes, the pale skin, the black hair with red tips that was exactly like the woman lying next to him - that Jaune realized why Summer looked so familiar. Why Summer talked about her babies and how they were students at Beacon.

She was Ruby and Yang's mom.

He'd slept with his friends' mom.

Shit. How the fuck didn't he notice?!

"I can explain-" Jaune started to say, but before he could get another word out, Summer stirred next to him.

"Mmm, good morning," she murmured sleepily, her voice still husky from sleep. She shifted closer to him, one hand trailing across his chest, "You didn't have to be so gentle last night, you know..."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop about twenty degrees.

Yang's gauntlets materialized on her arms with their distinctive metallic sounds, her hair practically glowing as her Semblance activated. Ruby, meanwhile, had somehow produced Crescent Rose from seemingly nowhere, the massive scythe unfolding with a series of mechanical clicks that sounded ominous in the dead silence. Both sisters stared at him with expressions that promised immediate and painful death. Somehow, Ruby looked more terrifying than Yang.

Jaune did the only sensible thing he could think of.

He threw himself sideways out of the bed, scrambled across the floor on his hands and knees, and dove headfirst through the second floor window.

The glass shattered around him as he sailed through the air, completely naked, and crashed into the bushes below with a tremendous rustling of leaves and branches. Thorns scraped against his skin as he rolled, but Aura kept them from piercing his skin. A small comfort considering the imminent death he was facing.

He heard shouting from upstairs. Summer's confused voice, Yang's furious roar, and Ruby's high-pitched shriek of outrage. Then came the sound of more breaking glass as the sisters apparently decided to follow his exit strategy.

Jaune scrambled to his feet and ran, "I'M SORRY!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as he sprinted naked through the forest, branches whipping at his face and legs, "I DIDN'T KNOW! I'M SO SORRY!"

Behind him, he could hear Yang's combat boots hitting the ground and Ruby's mechanical whirring as she used her Semblance to keep pace.

"GET BACK HERE, YOU BASTARD!" Yang's voice echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of her gauntlets firing. Shotgun shells sailed over his head and past his sides.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Ruby's voice was closer - much closer - and Jaune could hear Crescent Rose's blade cutting through branches as she carved a path after him.

Jaune ran harder than he'd ever run in his life, his bare feet slapping against the muddy forest floor as he dodged trees and leaped over fallen logs. His weapons training never covered this particular scenario, but apparently terror was an excellent motivator to learn parkour, "IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" he shouted over his shoulder, immediately realizing how stupid that sounded, "WELL, NOT AN ACCIDENT, BUT I DIDN'T KNOW WHO SHE WAS!"

He just kept running while two of his friends screamed threats of bloody murder. This so wasn't worth it!

[line break]

Poor Jaune. Hopefully Summer manages to explain soon before he gets crucified while ass naked.

Mister and Missus Arc-Schnee - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 of 5. Almost done. This one's more dramatic than previous chapters, but it's temporary. Just these two finishing up all the loose ends before everything is done.

[line break]

Jaune'd seen a lot of weird shit in his life. Hell, just in the past few weeks he'd time traveled, captured international terrorists, and convinced a centuries-old wizard that he wasn't completely insane. But standing in the vault beneath Beacon Academy, watching a machine literally suck magical powers out of one unconscious woman and pump them into another, definitely ranked up there in the "what the fuck is my life" category.

The Aura transfer machine whirred and hummed, looking like something out of a mad scientist's laboratory crossed with Atlas military tech. Which, knowing Ozpin and Ironwood, was probably exactly what it was. Cinder lay unconscious in one containment pod, her face peaceful in a way that really pissed him off considering all the people she'd murdered. Or would murder. Time travel grammar was still giving him headaches.

In the other pod, Amber - the real Fall Maiden, the woman whose power Cinder had stolen - lay still as death. She'd been like that for months, from what they heard from the rest of the group. Seeing her now, pale and motionless behind the glass, brought back memories of when Weiss was impaled by Cinder's spear back in Haven. The rage that bubbled up in his chest was almost as strong as it'd been back then. Would've been back then. Fuck it, whatever.

"The transfer appears to be proceeding smoothly," Ozpin observed, his voice carrying that calm, measured tone that made it sound like they were discussing the weather instead of magical power redistribution. The old wizard - and Brothers, it was still weird thinking of his headmaster as an actual ancient wizard evena after all these years - stood with his hands folded over his cane, watching the process with clinical interest.

Ironwood nodded, his mechanical hand tapping against his arm in what Jaune learned was the General's version of nervous fidgeting, "All readings are within acceptable parameters. The power transfer should be complete within minutes."

Jaune glanced sideways at Weiss, who stood beside him with perfect posture, hands clasped behind her back. Even in the weird blue-green light of the vault, she looked stunning. The way the light caught her white hair, making it almost glow... the way her fitted Atlas-style jacket hugged her curves just right... the delicate line of her neck as she tilted her head to watch the machine work...

'Stop it, Arc,' he told himself firmly, 'You're divorced. Very, very divorced. Because she's crazy and accused Ruby of being a homewrecker. She literally called your dick disappointing in front of an entire combat class.'

Which was a complete lie, by the way. Weiss'd never complained about that particular aspect of their relationship. If anything, she'd been VERY enthusiastic about- 'Nope. Not going there.'

"How much longer?" Qrow asked, taking a swig from his flask. The guy had been hitting the bottle harder than usual since their little chat about his sister yesterday. Not that Jaune could blame him. Finding out your sibling was about to be hunted down like the animal she was would drive anyone to hit the bottle.

"Not long now," Glynda replied, adjusting her glasses as she studied the readouts, "The power transfer is nearly-" The machine's humming stopped with a sharp click. For a moment, everything was silent except for the faint background noise of Beacon's ventilation systems and Qrow's nervous sipping.

Then Amber's eyes snapped open.

They weren't the soft brown they looked like in the picture Ozpin showed them. Amber's eyes blazed with orange fire, literally flickering with flames that danced in her irises like tiny campfires. Her gaze swept the vault, taking in the gathered group, before landing on the containment pod where Cinder lay unconscious.

And then she went absolutely fucking berserk.

Amber's fist slammed into the reinforced glass door of her containment unit with a sound like a gunshot. The supposedly unbreakable barrier - the same stuff they used in Atlas military facilities, according to Ironwood - spider-webbed instantly. Her second punch shattered it completely, sending chunks of reinforced glass flying across the vault like bullets.

"Holy shit-" Jaune started, but his words were cut off as Amber's bare foot connected with what remained of the door, sending the whole thing sailing directly toward their group, "Look out!" he shouted, tackling Weiss to the ground. They hit the metal floor hard, Jaune's body covering hers as the glass sailed over their heads and embedded itself in the wall behind them with a resounding crash.

For a split second, he was acutely aware of every point where their bodies touched. The softness of her curves beneath him, the way her hair smelled like winter roses and expensive shampoo, the way her breath hitched when he looked down at her-

"Get off me, you oaf!" Weiss snapped, shoving at his chest. Right. Divorced. Very much divorced.

Jaune rolled to the side just in time to see Amber tear Cinder's containment pod open with her bare hands, the reinforced glass crumpling like tissue paper under her grip. The Fall Maiden's power blazed around her like a living being, orange flames dancing along her skin without burning her.

Cinder's eyes fluttered open just as Amber grabbed her by the throat and hauled her out of the pod, "You," Amber snarled, her voice echoing with the power of the Maiden abilities she'd reclaimed, "You fucking bitch. You shot me in the back. You stole my power. You put me in a goddamn coma for months."

Cinder tried to say something - probably some sarcastic quip or villain monologue - but Amber cut her off by slamming her into the floor hard enough to crack the metal. The sound of impact echoed through the vault like a gunshot.

"Oh dear," Ozpin murmured, sounding about as concerned as someone commenting on a light drizzle, "Perhaps we should - "

"MONTHS!" Amber screamed, lifting Cinder up only to slam her down again, "I MISSED MONTHS OF MY LIFE BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Jaune looked around at the group. Ironwood and Glynda had taken cover behind some equipment, looking like they were debating whether to intervene. Qrow had his flask raised halfway to his lips, frozen in place as he watched the beatdown with wide eyes. Ozpin just stood there, occasionally wincing when Amber's impacts got particularly violent.

"Should we... do something?" Glynda asked hesitantly, her riding crop raised but not actually moving to stop anything, "Maybe we need Cinder alive for interrogation?" she added, though she didn't sound particularly convinced.

Weiss, who'd picked herself up and was brushing dust off her jacket with typical Schnee dignity (read: snobbery), snorted, "Jaune and I already know everything Cinder does," she said coolly, not even flinching as Amber punched Cinder so hard the woman bounced off the floor, "Let Amber have her revenge."

And honestly? Jaune was totally on board with that plan. Watching Cinder get the shit kicked out of her was really therapeutic. This was the woman who had killed Pyrrha, who had orchestrated the Fall of Beacon, who had helped Salem destroy Atlas and murder millions of people. If anyone deserved to get their ass thoroughly kicked, it was her. Only Salem deserved worse, and she was made immortal by those two godly assholes.

"Rip and tear!" Jaune called out helpfully, "Wait, no, that's not right. Burn and... uh... sear?"

Weiss gave him a look that suggested she was reconsidering their divorce for entirely different reasons, "You're an idiot."

"Hey, I'm trying to be supportive!"

Amber apparently heard him because she shot him a quick thumbs up before grabbing Cinder by the ankle and using her as a wrecking ball against the nearest wall. The satisfying crunch of impact was music to Jaune's ears, "This is..." Ironwood began, then trailed off as Amber lifted Cinder over her head and threw her across the vault, "Well... I suppose justice comes in many forms."

"She's definitely got a fire in her. More ways than one," Qrow said, finally lowering his flask, "Reminds me of Yang when someone messes with her hair."

"Speaking of Yang," Weiss said, absently tucking a strand of white hair behind her ear in a gesture that made Jaune's heart do stupid things in his chest, "We should probably warn her that her mother is our next target. She might have... feelings about that."

Focus, Arc. Very important conversation happening. Stop staring at your ex-wife's neck.

"Yeah, that's gonna be a fun conversation," Jaune said, forcing himself to look away from the elegant curve of Weiss's throat, "Hey Yang, remember your mom who abandoned you? Well, turns out she's a magical terrorist and we're gonna capture or kill her. Hope that's cool."

"You have such a way with words," Weiss said dryly.

"Perhaps that conversation can wait until after Ms. Branwen has been captured? Knowing Ms. Xiao Long, she will insist on being present for the operation, which could complicate things."

"Hm...point." Jaune nodded.

Their talk was interrupted by a sound like a blowtorch firing up. They turned to see Amber standing over what remained of Cinder Fall; which was basically just a pile of ash and some slightly melted metal from her outfit. The Fall Maiden's hands were wreathed in flames, and she was breathing hard from exertion. Jaune felt a sudden burst of irritiation. He missed it!

For a moment, the vault was dead silent except for the crackling of dying flames.

Then Amber turned to face them with a bright, friendly smile that was completely at odds with the fact that she'd just incinerated a person, "Sorry about all that!" she said cheerfully, dusting ash off her hands like she'd just finished gardening instead of committing a (very well deserved execution), "Weird first impression, huh? I'm not usually that, you know, kill happy. I'm Amber, by the way. Fall Maiden. Thanks for getting my powers back!"

The whiplash from her tone was incredible. One second she was channeling the Grimm Slayer, the next she sounded like she was introducing herself at a PTA meeting.

"Uh," Jaune said intelligently, "You're... welcome?"

"No problem at all, Ms. Amber," Ozpin said, apparently deciding to roll with it, "You know us all already, of course, but these are two of our students, Weiss Schnee and Jaune Arc."

"Nice to meet you both!" Amber said brightly, "So, what's the plan? I assume we're going after the rest of Salem's people? Because I have some very strong feelings about that whole situation."

Jaune looked at the pile of ash that used to be one of Salem's most dangerous agents, then back at Amber's sunny smile, "Yeah," he said slowly, "I think you're gonna fit right in."

Weiss made a small sound that might have been amusement, and when Jaune glanced at her, she was trying to hide a smile behind her hand. For just a moment, she looked like the girl he'd fallen in love with all those years ago - mischievous, sharp, brilliant and beautiful.

Then she caught him looking and her expression went carefully neutral again, reminding him that whatever they'd had was in the past. In a timeline that might never happen now.

'Right. Divorced. Focus on the mission, Arc.'

[line break]

Weiss sat in the passenger compartment of the Atlas military transport, her posture impeccable despite the turbulence as they flew toward the Anima wilderness. Through the reinforced windows, she could see the sprawling forests below, broken occasionally by cleared settlements or the scars of old Grimm attacks. Somewhere down there, Raven Branwen's bandit camp awaited - a collection of murderers and thieves led by a woman who had stolen power that was never meant to be hers.

The plan was sound. Weiss had spent considerable time ensuring every contingency was accounted for, drawing upon both her own tactical knowledge and the SDC's extensive intelligence network. The Atlesian military had provided satellite reconnaissance, and her own sources had confirmed the camp's location through careful observation of unusual weather patterns. Raven Branwen, for all her claims to cunning, had never learned subtlety when it came to displaying her stolen abilities.

The strategy was elegant in its simplicity and brutal in its efficiency. First, they would bombard the bandit camp with mortar fire, eliminating the bulk of Raven's followers before they could mount any meaningful resistance. Weiss felt no qualms about this particular aspect of the plan. These were not innocent civilians, but murderers and slavers who had chosen to follow a woman whose hands were stained with the blood of thousands. They had made their choice; now they would face the consequences.

Second, and most crucially, they had placed Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen, and Yang Xiao Long in specially designed reinforced cells aboard their command ship. When Raven inevitably attempted to use her portal Semblance to escape - and she would, because beneath all her bluster and threats, she was fundamentally a coward - she would find herself trapped. The cells would then be flooded with a harmless sleeping gas, incapacitating all occupants without permanent harm.

Yang had been... less than pleased when they'd informed her of this necessity three days prior. Weiss could still recall the blonde fireband's expression shifting from confusion to anger to reluctant understanding as they'd explained the situation. Learning that one's absent mother was not merely a deadbeat parent but an active threat to innocent lives had clearly been difficult for her to process. Some part of her still hoped that her egg donor had a good reason for leaving.

"So let me get this straight," Yang had said, her lilac eyes flashing with suppressed emotion, "My "mom" isn't just some selfish bitch who abandoned her family. She's a mass-murdering bandit queen with magical powers who needs to be stopped before she kills more people."

"That is... an accurate if simplified assessment," Weiss had replied carefully.

Yang had been silent for a long moment, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Then she'd straightened, that familiar determined set to her jaw asserting itself, "Fine. But I want answers when this is over. Real answers about why she left, what she's been doing, all of it."

Weiss had assured her that they would capture Raven alive if possible, though she'd been careful not to promise anything beyond that. Some questions, she suspected, would never have satisfactory answers.

The alterations in team placements meant that Yang and Blake were no longer part of their immediate circle. The thought brought an unexpected pang of loneliness to Weiss's chest. In the original timeline, Team RWBY had become more than just teammates. They'd been sisters in all but blood, bound together by shared trials and genuine affection. Now, while she could interact with Yang and Blake as friends, it wasn't quite the same. There was a distance there, a formality that hadn't existed when they'd shared a dorm room and countless late-night conversations.

But that could be remedied later, she told herself firmly. With Adam Taurus dead and Raven soon to be stripped of her stolen power, many of the fundamental obstacles to rebuilding those relationships would be removed. Blake would no longer carry the burden of her association with the White Fang's violence, and Yang would be free from the shadow of maternal abandonment that had shaped so much of her personality.

The third element of their strategy provided additional reassurance. They had secured backup in the form of Marrow Amin, who while not yet a Specialist, possessed a fully realized Semblance that would prove critical to their success. His ability to freeze targets in place would be invaluable in preventing Raven from escaping through conventional means before she could activate her portal Semblance. The young man's enthusiasm for the mission had been almost infectious, his tail literally wagging with excitement, though Weiss suspected it had more to do with the opportunity being given by General Ironwood himself than any personal vendetta against Raven Branwen.

More significantly, Amber had agreed to aid them in the operation. The Fall Maiden's motivations were twofold: gratitude for the restoration of her stolen power, and a genuine understanding that someone like Raven Branwen had no right to wield abilities meant to protect and preserve life. Amber's presence would ensure that even if Raven managed to access her Maiden powers during the confrontation, they would not be fighting at a disadvantage.

Weiss' only source of annoyance in an otherwise perfectly orchestrated operation was Amber's behavior toward Jaune. She understood, intellectually, that the woman would naturally feel grateful toward the people who had saved her life and restored her stolen power. Gratitude was a reasonable and expected response to such circumstances.

What was less reasonable (and frankly unprofessional) was the way Amber had taken to obviously, though admittedly subtly, flirting with him. The lingering touches when passing him equipment. The way she laughed just a little too enthusiastically at his admittedly mediocre attempts at humor. The manner in which she found excuses to seek his opinion on tactical matters, despite the fact that strategy had never been his strong suit (despite Pyrrha's claims otherwise).

It was tiresome, really. And concerning, though not for the reasons one might assume. Weiss's objections were purely practical in nature. She simply disliked the idea of Jaune taking advantage of Amber's gratitude and vulnerability, only to inevitably betray that trust later when his attention wandered to someone else. It was a pattern she had observed firsthand, after all. Despite her role, Amber was only 19. Still too young to have her heart broken.

The thought of another woman falling victim to Jaune's particular brand of oblivious charm, only to discover too late that his loyalty was as fleeting as morning frost, was genuinely troubling. Amber deserved better than to become another casualty of Jaune Arc's inability to maintain meaningful relationships.

Yes, that was precisely why the situation bothered her. Concern for Amber's wellbeing, nothing more. Certainly not jealousy - such an emotion would be both irrational and beneath her dignity. She was simply being practical, looking out for someone who had already suffered enough at the hands of people who had taken advantage of her trust.

The fact that watching Amber smile at Jaune made something twist unpleasantly in her chest was merely a coincidence. Stress from the upcoming operation, nothing more. Weiss straightened in her seat, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her combat attire as she forced her attention back to the mission parameters. There would be time for such considerations later. For now, she had a mass murderer to capture and Maiden powers to confiscate.

Everything else could wait.

[line break]

The bandit camp sprawled across a clearing in the Anima wilderness like a festering wound, crude tents and ramshackle structures arranged in haphazard clusters around a central fire pit. Weiss observed it through her binoculars from their concealed position on the ridge above, cataloging defensive positions and escape routes with the methodical precision her father had drilled into her during SDC security briefings. Not that he'd ever intended for her to use such knowledge in actual combat, but life had a way of making even the most distasteful lessons useful.

The plan was proceeding flawlessly. Winter would be simultaneously capturing Leonardo Lionheart and securing Haven's CCT tower to prevent Arthur Watts from interfering - assuming the traitorous headmaster hadn't already compromised their communications. Her sister had taken a carefully selected team of Atlesian Specialists for that operation, leaving Weiss to handle the more direct approach with their assembled strike force.

Beside her, Jaune adjusted his armor straps with practiced efficiency, the familiar ritual of pre-combat preparation that she'd witnessed countless times during their marriage. To his left, Amber stretched her arms above her head, orange flames dancing along her fingertips in anticipation. Marrow crouched nearby, his tactical vest loaded with Dust cartridges and specialized restraint equipment, while the three Valean Huntsmen they'd recruited completed their own final checks.

They hadn't risked involving any Mistrali Huntsmen; too much chance that Lionheart would be tipped off to their activities. Better to work with known quantities than risk their carefully laid plans being compromised by a network riddled with Salem's influence.

"Remember," Weiss said quietly, her voice carrying just far enough to reach their assembled team, "we need Raven alive. Everything else is secondary." They all nodded.

It was time.

The attack began with surgical precision. Weiss had orchestrated similar operations during her time as co-CEO before Beacon, coordinating SDC security forces against Grimm incursions and bandit raids that threatened company assets. This was merely a larger scale version of those exercises, with considerably higher stakes and a more personal investment in the outcome.

The mortar barrage struck the camp's perimeter first, Atlas-manufactured shells detonating in precise patterns that eliminated sentries and created chaos among the ranks of common bandits. Screams echoed across the clearing as crude fortifications were reduced to splinters and burning debris. The sight of the bandits screaming and burning brought a grim smile across her face. It was justice long overdue for the crimes they'd committed.

As the bombardment ceased, their strike team descended into the chaos with lethal efficiency.

The fight that followed was nothing short of a slaughter.

Surprise, surprise. Bullying thugs and murderers who spent their lives sacking defenseless towns while calling themselves strong stood absolutely no chance against experienced Huntsmen and a Maiden. Weiss cut through the bandit rabble like a heated blade through butter, her rapier finding gaps in improvised armor with surgical precision. Sometimes the comparison was literal, as her fire Dust cartridges left cauterized wounds in their wake, leaving the cooling bodies look oddly bloodless despite their grievous wounds.

She had to admit (though the acknowledgment left a bitter taste in her mouth) that she and Jaune worked together in perfect tandem. As... difficult as their relationship had become, years of training and partnership didn't simply evaporate. What weakness one possessed, the other instinctively covered. Where her rapier work excelled at precision strikes and crowd control, his shield and sword provided the raw stopping power needed to break enemy formations. It was a disgustingly efficient pairing, honed through countless missions and sparring sessions during their time as husband and wife.

Watching him flow seamlessly from defensive positioning to aggressive assault, she was reminded why they'd been so effective as partners before their personal relationship had complicated everything. His combat instincts remained as sharp as ever, reading the battlefield with the same intuitive understanding that had once made their teamwork legendary among their peers.

She particularly enjoyed taking down that bitch - ahem, vagabond - Vernal.

In the original timeline, Weiss had been obsessed with her newly summoning ability during their encounter, repeatedly calling forth incomplete manifestations while leaving herself vulnerable to counterattack. It had been a rookie mistake born of excitement over her expanded capabilities, and Vernal had capitalized on it ruthlessly. She, the heiress to the Schnee dynasty, had been brought low by a common bandit due to her eagerness play summoner.

Not this time.

As the tan woman charged forward with her twin chakrams spinning, Weiss activated her time dilation glyph with perfect timing. The world around her slowed to a crawl, Vernal's aggressive advance becoming a ponderous ballet of telegraphed movements. Weiss sidestepped the clumsy assault with contemptuous ease before she started a barrage of attacks, attacking her easily over a dozen times before the wretch could even react. She finished it off by using a glyph to propel herself downward from the air and slashing Vernal with enough force to leave a crater, which shattered her Aura.

"Eat it, Jaune," she murmured with satisfaction, remembering his smug commentary about her "showboating" during combat practice.

The glorified thug lay heaving on the ground, alive but thoroughly incapacitated. She would probably regret that mercy - Mistrali prisons were notably harsh in their treatment of bandits.

The regular bandits fell with pathetic ease, their crude weapons and lack of formal training making them little more than obstacles to be cleared. Amber moved through their ranks like an avatar of destruction, her restored Maiden powers manifesting as torrents of flame that reduced entire groups to ash. The Valean Huntsmen provided excellent support, their professional competence a stark contrast to the amateur thuggery they faced.

Marrow's contribution proved particularly valuable. His "Stay" Semblance locked down enemy movement at crucial moments, allowing the rest of the team to capitalize on openings that would have otherwise required significantly more effort to create. Jaune's Aura amplification had enhanced the young Faunus' range considerably, extending his area of effect to cover multiple targets simultaneously.

Then Raven Branwen herself finally made her appearance.

She descended from above like an angry goddess, her black hair whipping in the wind generated by her own Maiden powers. Lightning crackled around her form as she hovered twenty feet above the battlefield, red eyes blazing with supernatural fire. For a moment, she was genuinely imposing - a figure of terrible beauty wielding forces that could reshape the landscape.

"You dare attack my people?" she snarled, her voice carrying across the clearing with unnatural amplification.

Taking her down was almost disappointingly simple.

"Marrow, now!" Weiss shouted.

The young Huntsman stepped forward, his enhanced Aura flaring as Jaune's amplification took effect, "Stay!" he shouted, snapping his fingers and pointing at Raven.

Raven froze mid-gesture, her body locking in place as if she'd been transformed into a statue. The expression of shock on her face was almost comical - clearly, she hadn't expected to encounter a Semblance capable of affecting someone of her power level. Raven Branwen - the Spring Maiden, the Terror of Anima, the killer of thousands - fell like a stone and faceplanted into the blood-soaked dirt.

"I can only hold her for a few seconds!" Marrow called out, strain evident in his voice despite the amplification.

Weiss immediately summoned three Arma Gigas knights, their spectral forms materializing around Raven's paralyzed figure with car-sized swords raised. The massive blades descended in perfect synchronization, hammering into the bandit queen with enough force to crater the ground beneath her when she finally fell. Then they lifted up and slammed down again, and again, and again. Maidens had high Aura reserves. She could take it.

Amber followed up with a fireball the size of a small building, the massive sphere of concentrated flame engulfing Raven's position entirely. The heat was so intense that Weiss felt her summoned knights beginning to waver. Only her doubled Aura reserves allowed her to maintain their cohesion against such overwhelming force.

Meanwhile, Jaune continued mopping up the remaining bandits while keeping Marrow protected from potential counterattacks. His shield work was flawless, deflecting desperate strikes from the few enemies still capable of fighting while his sword found their weak points with mechanical precision.

Raven didn't even get the chance to attempt her portal escape - as satisfying as seeing her trapped in one of their prepared cells might have been. By the time Marrow's Semblance wore off and she regained mobility, her Aura had been completely depleted by their concentrated assault. She lay on the ground in a crumpled heap, smoke rising from her singed clothing and various cuts bleeding freely from where the Arma Gigas had found their mark. Dotted across her body were burns of various degrees.

Weiss approached the fallen woman with her rapier still drawn, noting the way Raven's chest rose and fell in irregular gasps. Alive, as required, but thoroughly defeated. The Spring Maiden's red eyes tracked Weiss's movement with unmistakable hatred, though she lacked the strength to do anything about it.

"Quite the fall from grace," Weiss observed, her voice carrying the same cool disdain she'd once reserved for particularly incompetent board members, "From Huntress to bandit queen to prisoner. Really, the trajectory of your life has been thoroughly predictable."

Raven tried to speak - probably some defiant threat or declaration about her tribe's resilience - but only managed a pained wheeze. The combination of physical trauma and Aura depletion had left her barely conscious.

"Sedatives," Weiss called to their medical specialist, one of the Valean Huntsmen who'd proven remarkably competent throughout the operation, "Full dose. We can't risk her regaining enough strength to activate her Semblance."

The injection took effect within moments, Raven's already glazed eyes sliding shut as the powerful tranquilizers flooded her system. They would keep her unconscious during transport and the subsequent power transfer procedure. No sense in allowing her any opportunity to cause further complications.

Weiss surveyed the aftermath of their operation with professional satisfaction. The bandit camp was thoroughly destroyed, its crude structures reduced to burning debris and scattered corpses. The few survivors - perhaps a dozen bandits who had surrendered rather than fight to the death - were secured with Atlesian restraints and would be transported back to face justice for their crimes. Which in Anima, likely meant harsh labor till their bodies broke.

A "tribe" of murderers erased from existence, and the Spring Maiden captured for proper disposition of her stolen power. The operation had taken less than an hour from initial assault to final cleanup.

Not a bad day's work, she reflected with grim satisfaction.

"Extraction point is secure," one of the Valean Huntsmen reported, his voice crackling through their communication system, "Transport is inbound for prisoner transfer."

Weiss nodded, watching as Amber knelt beside Raven's unconscious form with an expression of mixed satisfaction and disgust. The Fall Maiden had been remarkably professional throughout the operation, channeling her obvious distaste for power theft into tactical effectiveness rather than emotional outbursts, "She's...different than I expected," Amber said quietly, studying the Raven with curious eyes, "For someone who's caused so much suffering, she seems almost... ordinary."

"Monsters usually do," Jaune replied, approaching their group while wiping blood from his sword, "The scary ones are always the ones who look normal until they don't."

Weiss found herself nodding in agreement, remembering how Cinder had appeared to most of the world - a beautiful, charming young woman. Up until Ruby's Silver Eyes ensured that her looks matched her inner monstrosity.

Perhaps that was why she felt such satisfaction at seeing Raven reduced to this pathetic state. Another monster brought low, another threat neutralized before it could cause further harm. The world was marginally safer with the Spring Maiden's power about to be properly redistributed, just as it had been marginally safer when Cinder Fall was burn to ash.

Justice, she had learned, was rarely as dramatic as the stories suggested. Most of the time, it was simply a matter of applying the right pressure in the right place until something that needed to break finally did.

Today, that something had been the Branwen tribe's reign of terror across Anima. Tomorrow, it would be something else.

[line break]

The familiar confines of Ozpin's office felt smaller somehow with the weight of their recent success pressing down upon them. Weiss sat with practiced poise in one of the chairs arranged before the headmaster's desk, her hands folded precisely in her lap as she observed the assembled group. The ornate clockwork mechanisms above continued their eternal dance, marking time with mechanical precision that she found oddly comforting after the chaos of combat.

Qrow slouched against the far wall, his flask conspicuously absent for once though his sullen expression suggested he was seriously reconsidering that decision. The capture of his sister had affected him more deeply than he cared to admit. Weiss could see it in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his eyes refused to meet anyone else's gaze directly. Guilt, she suspected, mixed with relief and no small amount of self-loathing. Familial loyalty was an illogical thing, she knew that from experience.

General Ironwood stood at attention beside Glynda, his mechanical hand resting against his hip in a gesture that spoke of barely contained nervous energy. The successful operation had validated their tactical approach, but Weiss knew the man well enough to recognize that he was already calculating the next dozen moves in this increasingly complex game.

"There is, of course, the matter of who should inherit the Spring Maiden's power," Ozpin said, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he regarded them with those ancient, knowing eyes, "I have compiled a preliminary list of possible candidates, including Ms. Nikos. Her strength of character is exemplary, and her combat skills would serve her well in such a role."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Weiss felt her expression harden into the mask of polite menace she'd perfected during board meetings with particularly obstinate shareholders, "Professor Ozpin," she said, her voice carrying the crystalline edge that had once reduced grown businessmen to stammering apologies, "If you so much as hint at the existence of the Maidens to Pyrrha, I will make you regret it in ways that your considerable experience has not yet prepared you for."

"What she said," Jaune added from his position beside her, his casual tone belying the steel in his blue eyes, "Pyrrha deserves better than being turned into a magical weapon because you think she'd make a good martyr."

Ozpin raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of mild interest rather than intimidation. After countless lifetimes of facing down gods, monsters, and immortal sorceresses, a pair of time-traveling students - however formidable - apparently weren't enough to rattle him. Still, he hummed thoughtfully and inclined his head in apparent acquiescence.

"Very well. Then whom would you suggest for this responsibility?" His tone was skeptical yet curious.

Weiss straightened slightly, feeling the familiar surge of confidence that came with presenting a well-reasoned argument, "I'm the optimal choice," she said matter-of-factly, her tone carrying the same certainty she'd once used to announce quarterly profit projections to the SDC board.

The logic was unassailable, really. She possessed the combat training, the strategic acumen, and most importantly, the knowledge of what was truly at stake in the battles to come. More than that, she'd already been positioned for exactly this role ever since she woke up in her old childhood bedroom two years ago.

"I'll be by Ruby's side when she finally faces Salem in this timeline," Weiss said, her voice taking on the measured cadence of a prepared presentation, "Winter trained me extensively to inherit the Winter Maiden's power should she ever perish in our original timeline." Something that thankfully never came to pass. Winter was still alive when she'd turned 30, "The principles remain the same regardless of which specific Maiden abilities are involved."

She could see Jaune preparing to interject - probably some snarky comment about her (justified) self-confidence - and felt her jaw clench in anticipation of another pointless argument.

"Of course you'd nominate yourself," he said, right on schedule. Weiss was already drawing breath for a cutting retort when he continued, completely derailing her planned response, "But you're right. You're the best choice we have."

The admission caught her so completely off-guard that she actually blinked, her carefully constructed arguments dissolving into surprised silence. Jaune agreeing with her? Publicly supporting her candidacy without being coerced or manipulated into it? The world truly had been turned upside down by their temporal displacement.

The surprise must have shown on her face because Jaune's expression softened slightly, taking on that earnest quality that had once made her heart skip a beat before their relationship had soured into constant conflict, "Who else do we realistically have?" he said, gesturing toward the assembled group with one hand, "Glynda would be perfect - her telekinesis is probably stronger than Maiden magic, let's be real - but Ozpin made that weird rule about needing to be younger than thirty to inherit the powers."

"I was experiencing a prolonged period of depression and poor decision-making," Ozpin cut in with what might have been mild embarrassment, "You try maintaining rational thought processes while fighting an immortal ex-lover who wishes to destroy the world."

"You know what? Fair." Jaune nodded, "But the rule stands, right? So that means most of the experienced Huntresses are out."

Ironwood stepped forward, his expression resolute, "I would like to nominate Specialist Schnee," he said formally, "Winter has proven herself repeatedly in both combat and leadership roles. Her tactical expertise and moral character make her an excellent candidate."

Weiss felt a flicker of warmth at the General's confidence in her sister, but she shook her head firmly, "You've already positioned Winter as Fria's successor for the Winter Maiden powers," she said, "Besides, as much as I adore my sister, the person who wields this particular magic should be someone who knows the exact stakes we're facing. Someone who understands precisely what Salem is capable of and what methods will be required to stop her."

The unspoken implication hung in the air: that only she and Jaune possessed the comprehensive knowledge necessary to make the hard choices that lay ahead. Winter was many things: brilliant, capable, and utterly dedicated to doing what was right. But she hadn't lived through the apocalypse they were trying to prevent. She hadn't seen Atlas fall, hadn't watched millions die, hadn't been forced to make the soul-crushing decisions that would undoubtedly be required again before this was over.

"Ruby cannot be considered for this role," Weiss continued, addressing what she suspected was Ozpin's unspoken preference, "She needs to focus entirely on developing her Silver Eyes' abilities. Asking her to divide her attention between that and Maiden powers would be a recipe for disaster; she'd be spread too thin to excel at either. My role in this timeline is to support her, to ensure she has the space and protection necessary to become the weapon Salem fears most."

There was something deeply satisfying about having her purpose so clearly defined. In her original past/future, she'd often felt like she was flailing, trying to be useful in a conflict that seemed to revolve around powers and destinies beyond her understanding while utterly failing at it. This time, she knew exactly where she fit in the grand design.

Ruby would be the Silver-Eyed Warrior who could finally end Salem's reign of terror. Weiss would be the Maiden who ensured Ruby survived long enough to fulfill that destiny. It was elegant in its simplicity, and it played to both of their strengths.

The office fell silent except for the rhythmic ticking of Ozpin's elaborate timepieces. Glynda adjusted her glasses thoughtfully. Ironwood's mechanical hand tapped against his leg in a rapid staccato that suggested intensive calculation. Qrow continued to study the floor as if it held the secrets of the universe.

Finally, Ozpin sighed - a sound that carried the weight of centuries and countless difficult decisions.

"Perhaps you're both correct," he conceded, his voice heavy with resignation and what might have been relief at having the choice made for him, "Very well. Ms. Branwen will be prepared for the Aura transfer machine immediately. Let us proceed quickly, before she has any opportunity to escape or complicate matters further."

Weiss felt a surge of satisfaction that she was careful not to let show on her face. The Spring Maiden's power would soon be hers to wield, another tool in their arsenal against Salem's forces. More than that, it represented a form of justice - power stolen through murder and used for decades of terrorizing innocent people would finally be turned toward its proper purpose.

"Excellent," she said, "I assume the transfer procedure will be similar to what we used with Cinder and Amber?"

"Identical," Ozpin replied, "Ms. Branwen will be placed in the Aura transfer machine. Let us proceed quickly, before she has any chance to regain consciousness and attempt an escape."

As they began to file out of the office toward the vault levels, Weiss caught Jaune's eye. For a moment, something passed between them - not the bitter animosity that had characterized most of their recent interactions, but a flicker of the partnership that had once made them so effective together. They were going to save the world this time. All of it. And if that meant she had to become something more than human to do it, then so be it.

After all, Weiss had never been one to shy away from accepting the responsibilities that others feared to bear.

[line break]

Days later, things had settled into something resembling normalcy. Or at least, as normal as life could be when one was a time-traveling student who happened to also be a Maiden with the memories of fighting an immortal witch. Salem was still out there, naturally, but with her primary pawns neutralized, Ozpin predicted she would retreat to reassess and rebuild her forces. It was one of her fundamental weaknesses, he'd explained. Open warfare would unite humanity against her, which was precisely why she preferred to work through proxies from the shadows.

They might have years before she made her next move. Which meant, somewhat surreally, going back to being students.

The transition felt bizarre. Yes, they were still making plans - Maria Calavera was already being sought out for Ruby's Silver Eyes training, and various other preparations continued in the background - but for the first time since their return to the past, they actually had breathing room. Time to attend classes, complete assignments, and pretend to be normal teenagers instead of battle-hardened veterans of an apocalyptic war.

Raven Branwen remained imprisoned in the vault beneath Beacon, stripped of her stolen power and awaiting whatever justice Ozpin's council would ultimately decide upon. Yang had visited her along with Taiyang and Qrow, a conversation that Weiss knew better than to ask about. When Yang had emerged from that meeting, she'd been both furious and relieved in equal measure, thanking Weiss and Jaune in a way that was both strained and sincere before making it clear the subject was closed.

Weiss respected that boundary. Some family conversations were too painful to share, even with friends.

Oh, and she was the Spring Maiden now. Such an odd thing to think about, even weeks after the power transfer. She could feel the magic humming beneath her skin like a second heartbeat, responding to her emotions and occasionally manifesting in small ways - frost patterns on her water glass when she was annoyed, or wind flowing gently in time with her footsteps when she was particularly pleased about something.

There were some side-effects, of course. Unlike with Amber and Cinder, she wasn't reclaiming a power that had been stolen from her. At times she saw flashes of Raven's memories. Not enough to be crippling or mistaken for her own, however. It was like...watching a movie, seeing her raids and monstrous actions but without the emotions behind them. An inconvenience at worst. She was already learning to bock them out.

Amber, who had been officially appointed as Professor Goodwitch's teaching assistant (a convenient cover for her continued presence at Beacon), had taken over Weiss' Maiden training. While she wasn't a fully realized Maiden like Fria had been, she still possessed considerably more experience with the powers than Weiss did. The sessions were productive, if occasionally frustrating when Weiss' perfectionist tendencies clashed with the inherently intuitive nature of Maiden magic. Maiden powers primarily came from emotion and instinct.

She genuinely liked Amber. For someone who woke up from a traumatic coma not too long ago, the Fall Maiden was surprisingly cheerful and friendly, approaching both her teaching duties and her recovery with admirable resilience. Her optimistic outlook was refreshing after months of dealing with apocalyptic scenarios and morally gray decisions.

The only thing Weiss didn't like was that Amber was still flirting with Jaune.

Again, it wasn't out of jealousy. Weiss Schnee did not engage in such petty emotions over her ex-husband. It was simply a matter of professional concern. Jaune was clearly exploiting Amber's gratitude for saving her life, taking advantage of her emotional vulnerability in a way that was both manipulative and potentially damaging to their operational security.

The man had a pattern, after all. He'd pursued Weiss relentlessly during their Beacon days despite her repeated rejections, then moved on to Pyrrha's obvious affections, and now apparently saw Amber as his next conquest. It was frankly disgusting how quickly he'd moved on from their divorce.

She ignored the voice at the back of her head telling her that it'd been over two years since they were sent back in time.

Her patience finally reached its breaking point during one of her training sessions with Amber in the designated private room. Weiss had been practicing weather manipulation - trying to create localized snow flurries without accidentally freezing the entire area - when Jaune had come over to observe. This had become an annoying habit of his recently, claiming he wanted to "understand how Maiden powers worked" but clearly just using it as an excuse to spend time near Amber.

"You're getting much better at the fine control," Amber said encouragingly, watching as Weiss managed to create a small blizzard contained within a ten-foot radius, "The key is not to fight the magic, but to guide it. Think of it like conducting an orchestra instead of wrestling a Beowolf."

"An apt metaphor," Weiss replied, allowing the snow to dissipate with a gesture, "Though I suspect my father would appreciate the wrestling comparison more. He always did prefer direct confrontation to subtle manipulation." Jacques Schnee was an admittedly brilliant schemer in his younger years, but with power came complacency. He'd gotten used to being the biggest fish in the pond and preferred to use the Schnee name as a bludgeon once he attained his position; something even his own family could attest to quite well. He thought himself above consequences.

It was what made outmaneuvering him doubly satisfying.

Amber laughed, a genuine, bright sound that Weiss might have found endearing if it hadn't been followed by the woman's gaze drifting toward Jaune with obvious interest, "Speaking of... um..." Amber began, a bashful expression crossing her features as she fidgeted with the hem of her blouse, "The Beacon dance is coming up soon, isn't it? The formal one?"Weiss felt her stomach drop like a stone. She knew exactly where this conversation was heading, and every fiber of her being rebelled against allowing it to continue, "Jaune, I was wondering if-"

"Jaune and I are going together," Weiss cut in smoothly, her voice carrying the absolute certainty she'd once used to shut down unwanted suitors at Atlas social functions. And she had a LOT of would-be prince charmings to practice on.

Jaune's head snapped toward her, blue eyes wide with confusion, "We are?"

Weiss turned to face him with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth, "Of course we are, darling," she said, putting just enough emphasis on the endearment to make it sound both intimate and slightly threatening. Her expression was sharp enough to cut glass.

Amber blinked, her expression shifting from hopeful to disappointed to resignedly understanding in the span of a few seconds, "Oh! I didn't know you two were... I mean, you always seemed so..." She gestured vaguely, clearly struggling to reconcile their constant bickering with romantic involvement.

"Passionate," Weiss said, still smiling, "We're very passionate people."

"Right," Amber said slowly, though she was already recovering with impressive grace, "Well, that's wonderful! I hope you both have a lovely time." She gathered her training materials with practiced efficiency, offering them both a genuinely warm smile that made Weiss feel like an absolute monster for her deception, "I should go prepare for my afternoon classes. Weiss, remember to practice the storm summoning we discussed. Start small - just a light rain - and work your way up."

As soon as Amber was out of earshot, Jaune rounded on Weiss with an expression of complete bewilderment, "What the hell was that about?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, "Since when are we going to the dance together?"

Weiss pursed her lips, feeling defensive under his scrutiny, "Don't say anything," she said curtly, "I'm simply preventing you from getting your greedy claws into her. I know what you're like."

"What I'm like?" Jaune's voice rose in indignation, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means," Weiss retorted, though she was already beginning to feel slightly foolish about her impulsive declaration. Just slightly, though, "You have a pattern, Jaune Arc. First me, then Pyrrha would have been next if she hadn't..." She shook her head, almost tempted to bring up Ruby again before refusing to do so for reasons she couldn't explain, "And now Amber. You can't just keep collecting women like they're trading cards."

Jaune stared at her for a long moment, his expression cycling through confusion, hurt, and finally settling on something that looked suspiciously like amusement, "Are you... are you jealous?" he asked, and Weiss could hear the barely suppressed laughter in his voice.

"I am not jealous," she snapped, her cheeks flushing with what was certainly indignation and absolutely nothing else, "I am being practical. Someone needs to protect poor Amber from your..." She gestured vaguely at him, "Your whole... situation."

"My situation?"

"Your chronic inability to maintain appropriate professional boundaries!" Before Jaune could formulate what was undoubtedly going to be an insufferably smug response, Weiss spun on her heel and began marching toward the academy's exit, "Come on," she called over her shoulder, "We're going to town."

"Why?" Jaune asked, though he was already following her with the resigned air of someone who had learned not to question her when she was in full organizational mode.

"Because," she said with exaggerated patience, "Even if this date is completely fabricated, I am not going to be seen at a formal event with someone wearing the standard Beacon black suit. It's a matter of personal dignity." And definitely not someone wearing an ill-fitting dress. He couldn't even make it look good, despite Pyrrha's claims otherwise.

"It's a school dance, not a state dinner," Jaune complained, but he was still following her.

"The difference being what, exactly?" Weiss asked, perfectly manicured brow raised, "Public appearance is public appearance, Jaune. Standards exist for a reason."

As they made their way toward the airship platform, Jaune muttering under his breath about "impossible women" and "fake dates," Weiss allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Amber was safe from Jaune's questionable romantic judgment, the dance situation was handled, and she would have the opportunity to ensure her ex-husband didn't embarrass himself - and by extension, her - at a public event.

Really, it was a perfectly reasonable solution to a potentially problematic situation. The fact that she felt oddly pleased about having an excuse to spend an evening with Jaune was entirely irrelevant and certainly not worth examining too closely.

[line break]

Drama over. Next chapter should be pure slice of life now that the leads have some serious breathing. Jaune and Weiss' "not a date" plus maybe adding in Amber.

Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 6

Maid Jaune 6. I'm VERY sorry for the gap. Like I said in the status update, sickness and business thing. Most of my family went abroad as well, so that's a thing. I'll be writing my next output (Mr and Mrs. Arc-Schnee) quicker. Lack of smut makes it easier.

Anyway, this chapter is a nice change of pace for me since Jaune's not acting like he hates his job. Glynda provided some refreshing content.

[line break]

A couple of days later, Jaune found himself contemplating his life choices yet again. This had become something of a daily ritual for him – wake up, train, attend classes, and wonder exactly how he'd gone from "farm boy with a dream" to "Vale's most notorious crossdressing maid-for-hire." Today, however, the existential crisis hit a bit differently.

Because today, he had an appointment with Professor Glynda Goodwitch.

Professor Goodwitch. Beacon's deputy headmistress. The woman who could reduce fourth-year students and politicans to tears with a single raised eyebrow. The same woman who had once made Cardin wet himself during a particularly brutal detention session (a story that would never die, much to Cardin's continued humiliation). There were rumors that the Vytal Tournament only took place every two years because she'd won every year back when she was a student and they wanted to give everyone else a chance.

And now she'd officially booked him.

Jaune gulped nervously as he stood outside her office, the familiar wooden door somehow looking far more intimidating than usual. He'd been here a few times before, of course, whenever his combat performance dipped below acceptable levels – which, given his falsified transcripts and complete lack of formal training, was embarrassingly often.

But he'd never stood here wearing his (custom-tailored) maid outfit. The silk felt unusually tight against his skin, the collar itchy despite its premium material. He adjusted the frilly headband, ensuring it sat perfectly on his blonde locks, and straightened the apron with shaking hands. His heels clicked against the floor as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to dispel the nervous energy coursing through him.

He felt a strange mix of nervousness and, as much as he didn't want to admit it, excitement. Aside from the weirdos – Ruby's bizarre big sister fantasy still gave him shivers – there was really only one reason women took his services. He didn't exactly make it a secret what he did, and the thought that Professor Goodwitch wanted that was... well, it was enough to make his heart (and other places) pulse. He pressed down his blouse to keep it from rising.

The woman was the archetypal Hot Teacher and Sexy Librarian rolled into one. Her fitted blouse, that pencil skirt, and those glasses that somehow made her stern glare even more intimidating. Every male student at Beacon had fantasized about her at least once; it was practically a rite of passage. Even Ren, the most composed person Jaune knew, had once mumbled her name in his sleep, which Nora did NOT take well.

Jaune took another deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. This was just another job, he reminded himself. Just because it was Professor Goodwitch didn't make it any different from his other clients. He was a professional, damn it. A professional maid-escort with a growing investment portfolio and a custom weapon upgrade that would make Ruby drool (if she were still speaking to him, which she wasn't).

He smoothed down his skirt one final time, then raised his hand and knocked on the door, "Mistress?" he called out in his practiced 'Juliette' voice, high-pitched and demure, "It's Juliette. I'm here for our appointment."

There was a moment of silence from the other side of the door. Then, Professor Goodwitch's crisp, authoritative voice responded, "Come in."

Jaune took a deep breath, steadying himself. He reached for the doorknob, turned it, and pushed the door open.

He stepped inside with a nervous gulp. He'd been in the office before, but doing it in this outfit was surreal. The same old bookshelves crammed with dusty academic crap and combat manuals looked way more intimidating now that he was sporting frills and stockings. Professor Goodwitch sat at her desk, back straight as a board, her blonde hair yanked back in that crazy-tight bun that seriously, how did she not get headaches? She looked up at him without so much as a raised eyebrow, like seeing a guy in a full maid getup was totally normal for a Tuesday afternoon.

Jaune readied himself. His brain had already cooked up about a dozen different scenarios, each one more crazy than the last. Maybe she had some weird authority kink? Or wanted to play strict headmistress while he was the naughty student? Brothers, he hoped it wasn't another "detention" roleplay. The last client who tried that had him writing "I will not be a bad maid" on a chalkboard for three freaking hours. His wrist had felt like it was gonna fall off. The sex felt more exhausting than anything.

But instead of any of that, Professor Goodwitch just pointed to another desk shoved in the corner of her office. It was buried under a mountain of paperwork – forms, reports, and what looked like enough detention slips to wallpaper team RWBY's dorm room, all stacked in neat but terrifying piles, "Your first task," Professor Goodwitch said, sounding like she was reading off a grocery list, "is to sort through these forms. They need to be organized by type, date, and priority level. Once that's done, I'll need you to input the data into the system."

Jaune blinked.

"I... come again?"

Professor Goodwitch adjusted her glasses, the light doing that anime villain thing where you couldn't see her eyes for a second, "Your website indicated that you were skilled in administrative duties," she said, talking to him like he was five years old, "I have paperwork that needs to be completed, and my usual assistant is out with Dust poisoning after an unfortunate incident in Professor Peach's class."

Jaune blinked again, harder this time, like maybe his eyeballs could reboot his brain, "I... yeah, I am," he found himself saying. It wasn't even a lie. Growing up with seven sisters meant he'd always gotten stuck with the boring crap nobody else wanted to do. He'd done tons of paperwork for the family wine business, keeping track of inventory and shipments while his sisters got to do all the fun stuff with actual customers.

Professor Goodwitch nodded, her face softening about half a millimeter, "Good. Get to it, then." She turned back to her own work before adding, like it was totally an afterthought, "Oh, and I'll be expecting you to serve tea occasionally, but the paperwork is the priority here."

Jaune just stood there like an idiot for a moment, his brain still buffering. This was what Professor Goodwitch had hired him for? Paperwork and pouring tea? Not... you know... the other stuff? He'd worn his best stockings and everything! The ones that cost more than his first training sword!

"Is there a problem, Mr. Arc?" Professor Goodwitch asked without looking up, her pen scratching away like she was trying to stab the paper.

"Nope! No problem at all, Professor," Jaune replied quickly, shuffling over to the desk in the corner. His skirt swished around his thighs in a way that would've had his regular clients practically drooling. Professor Goodwitch didn't even bother to glance up.

He dropped into the chair, which creaked under his weight like it was judging him. This was... weird. Super weird. Even weirder than Ruby trying to play "big sister," which was really saying something.

As he started sorting through the first stack of papers, Jaune's mind raced. Maybe this was just foreplay? Maybe Professor Goodwitch was testing him, making sure he could follow directions before moving on to the fun stuff? He'd had clients who got off on bossing him around first, making him do random crap before getting down to business. Weiss literally made him clean the hotel room once and ignored him when he pointed out that there's people whose actual job that was.

But as the minutes ticked by and Professor Goodwitch just kept working in total silence, completely ignoring the fact that there was a dude in a maid outfit sitting in her office, Jaune got more and more confused. If she'd wanted someone to file paperwork, why hire the guy known across Vale for his "special maid services"? The outfit alone seemed like major overkill for sorting detention slips.

He mindlessly flipped through a stack of incident reports, his thoughts wandering. The last time he'd been in this office, Professor Goodwitch had been chewing him out for getting his butt handed to him by Russel. She'd been tough but fair, those green eyes drilling into him behind her glasses as she'd laid out exactly how his crappy form had screwed him over. She hadn't even been that hars, not like when she tore into students with potential who slacked off; like Yang during her "can't be bothered" phases.

Yang had said once, after way too many drinks at a team hangout, that she found Professor Goodwitch's strictness "kind of hot, not gonna lie." Blake had rolled her eyes, but Jaune had caught the telltale blush that said she was totally on the same page. Even Weiss, Miss Prim and Proper herself, was busted staring at Professor Goodwitch's riding crop for way too long during class.

That same riding crop was just chilling on the edge of Professor Goodwitch's desk, like it wasn't the star of half the student body's fantasies. Jaune couldn't help glancing at it every few minutes, his collar suddenly feeling way too tight. He remembered again how Ren – calm, collected Ren – had mumbled Professor Goodwitch's name in his sleep once, which led to Nora "accidentally" dumping a full glass of ice water on his face at 3 AM. The shouting match that followed kept him and Pyrrha up for an hour, with Nora insisting that Ren was "having dirty thoughts about the enemy" while Ren stammered out excuses that got more ridiculous by the second.

The memory made Jaune smile despite his confusion. He turned his attention back to the paperwork, figuring he might as well go with it. Maybe Professor Goodwitch really did just need office help. Maybe she thought his prices were fair for the quality of his work. Maybe this wasn't just another chapter in the weird-ass story his life had become.

[line break]

Three hours passed and absolutely nothing happened besides mind-numbing paperwork. Jaune's fingers were starting to cramp from filling out form after form, and his eyes burned from squinting at tiny print detailing the many, many ways Beacon students had managed to break school property.

Seriously, who even tries to use a Boarbatusk as a mount? Nora, of course. Team RWBY had their own filing system with the damage they did. He had no idea how the school wasn't bankrupt or how they hadn't gotten expelled yet. All Professor Good said was "Ozpin" and nothing more.

Professor Goodwitch had asked for tea precisely once during the whole time. He'd obliged, following her instructions to the letter – two sugars, a splash of milk, steeped for exactly three minutes and thirty seconds. Another skill he'd perfected growing up with seven sisters: how to make the perfect cup of tea for princess-themed tea parties. Saphron had been particularly picky, insisting her tea be "royal quality" or she'd make him play the dragon instead of the knight.

"Thank you, Mr. Arc," Professor Goodwitch had said after taking a sip, nodding in satisfaction, "This is perfect. I've been dealing with everyone's paperwork all week, and it's giving me a migraine."

Jaune blinked, "Wait, aren't the other teachers supposed to do their own paperwork?"

"Yes," she replied, taking another sip, "They should." He waited for her to elaborate. She didn't. Just went right back to scribbling notes on some poor student's combat evaluation.

The silence stretched on for another twenty minutes. Jaune's back was starting to ache from hunching over the desk, and his butt had gone numb from sitting in the wooden chair for so long. He'd spent the last hour trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Was this some kind of test? A weird power play? Had someone pranked him?

He cracked his neck, stood up, and decided to test the waters, "Professor, would you, uh... like a massage? Your shoulders look tense."

Professor Goodwitch hummed thoughtfully, then set down her pen, "That would be lovely, actually."

Jaune hesitated for a split second before moving behind her chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying desperately not to think dirty thoughts (impossible) as he began kneading the stiff muscles. Even through her blouse, he could feel how tense she was. Knots upon knots, like someone had tied sailor's rope under her skin. His thoughts drifted to what was under that blouse. Pale, flawless skin that looked like it belonged to a woman half her age. He wondered what color her bra was. Purple like her cape? Black like her skirt? Did it have lace?

She sighed softly as his thumbs worked into a particularly tight spot near her neck. (Down, Jaune Junior, down!) The sound was way too close to other, less professional noises he'd heard from clients, "You have heavenly fingers, Mr. Arc," she murmured, her head lolling slightly to the side as he worked out another knot, "Perhaps you should advertise this instead of your... main services."

Jaune laughed awkwardly, his face heating up, "I, uh, you know... kind of figured that's what you called me for, actually," he admitted, "But I was wrong, obviously."

"No," Professor Goodwitch replied, her tone so matter-of-fact she might have been discussing the weather, "I am planning to sleep with you."

Jaune's fingers froze mid-knead, "Pardon?"

Professor Goodwitch didn't turn around, just rolled her shoulders slightly to prompt him to continue the massage. He did, "Nothing turns me on more than paperwork being completed before deadlines," she continued in that same casual tone, "It's a particular weakness of mine."

Jaune gulped, his mouth suddenly dry as a Vacuo summer, "I, uh, only have one stack left," he said, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty all over again.

Professor Goodwitch smiled – he couldn't see it, but he could feel it somehow. (Down, Jaune Junior, damn it! This is NOT the time!) "You'd better get to it then," she said, the barest hint of suggestion coloring her professional tone.

Jaune fucking bolted for the desk, knocking over an empty teacup in his haste. He caught it before it hit the floor, set it down with shaking hands, and dove into the final stack of papers like his life – or at least his sex life – depended on it.

He went through the paperwork like a man possessed, though he made sure to double-check everything for errors. The last thing he wanted was for the mood to be ruined because he made a typo or something. Professor Goodwitch didn't say a word, but he could see her occassionally looking up with a twinkle in those green eyes. That was the look of a woman who knew exactly how hot she was and what she was offering.

The last paper was practically slammed down into the 'Done' pile, "D-Done, mistress!" Jaune said, his voice high once more with the Juliette lilt. Sex had turned from something he craved to... well, a job. He didn't hate it, but he was often more focused on what his clients wanted more than anything else. His enjoyment was secondary, even if the sex still felt good most of the time (when weirdos like Weiss and Yang weren't making him dress up for weird pseudo-incest fantasies).

But now? Pure excitement. Because this was Glynda Goodwitch he was about to sleep with. His cock stirred underneath the skirt and he bit his lower lip. Even if she spent the whole time whipping him with her riding crop, he would've said thank you and asked for seconds.

"I'll need to check to be sure, Juliette." The sudden change in name made him feel weird. Not a bad weird, though, "In the meantime, make yourself useful."

She pushed her chair back and pointed to the (generous) space under the desk. Jaune gulped and slowly walked forward. Her casual dominance made him lightheaded. It wasn't like with Weiss, where she was clearly trying too hard to throw her (tiny) weight around. Professor Goodwitch was raw confidence. She didn't raise her voice or stomp her feet to make demands. She ordered and he obeyed. He was suddenly reminded of Saphron saying she always loved a woman who could fucking kill her.

Jaune crawled inside the space, which was big enough to hold even someone of his size. The wall behind him kept him safely out of sight, "I'm in," he called out. Professor Goodwitch hummed and slid her chair closer, her legs parting. Jaune's breath hitched.

She wasn't wearing underwear.

He'd seen dozens of, ahem, lady parts before. Weiss, Yang, Pyrrha, and dozens of his clients. Back then, he'd been downright excited...even if half the time it ended up being weird. Weiss with her weird bratty dom thing and sister fetish. Yang with her mom fetish. Pyrrha not just asking him for sex like a normal partner before carrying him out of the maid cafe over her shoulder like some desperate cavewoman. That wasn't even getting into the bizarre crap half of his other clients were into. It was like regular sex was some kind of taboo thing to not even be considered.

Jaune gulped and traced his fingers along her thick, smooth thighs, "How should I...?"

"They're stockings, Juliette. They aren't body armor."

The implicit order was clear. Gulping again, Jaune reached out - gods, her skin was warm - and tore the stockings. The sounds of tearing fabric seemed to echo across the room. The smell of her perfume (lilacs) mixed with the faint tang of sweat made him feel lightheaded. He breathed in deep, taking in the smell. Professor Goodwitch always had a flawless quality about her. Never a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her clothes and glasses always balanced. It was almost inhuman.

But right now she looked very, very human.

Jaune shuffled forward and licked his lips. This was really happening. He could feel the collective resentment and jealousy of every guy in Beacon, hundreds of collective male fantasies crying out in resentment, "Here I go, mistress." She didn't say anything, but he legs spread just an inch more in invitation. Jaune grabbed his thighs with both hands and leaned his head down.

Unlike his first time with Weiss, he didn't lick haphazardly like someone sucking on an ice cream cone. He started off slowly at first, his tongue gently sliding across her slit. He'd done this at least a dozen times before. Mistral clients in particular - usually nobility - seemed to love it. High-class ladies who only had to "lay back and think of Atlas" found a thrill in making someone work for their pleasure for a change.

He did make sure not to take clients who were currently married or didn't have "arrangements" (which was disturbingly common) with their husbands, though. Last thing he needed some some angry cuckold trying to kill him.

Professor Goodwitch let out a soft, pleased breath. It wasn't a moan, but coming from her, it might as well have been. Jaune felt a tingle of satisfaction go down his spine and he slowly picked up the pace. Not too fast - he'd made that mistake before - but slowly winding up. His eyes flicked up to the hooded clitoris. Not yet, he thought. Too soon and he'd end it too quick.

Jaune's hands tightened their hold slightly on her thighs as he continued. The sounds of the keyboard clicking above him made the whole thing seem oddly mundane. Jaune continued trying to please her. ignoring how cramped the space was and how his knees were getting kind of sore (Pyrrha was teaching him about dealing with muscle fatigue with Aura in-between their stress relief sessions). Logically, he knew being kept under the desk like some dirty little secret wasn't that different from some of the other things he griped about, but he found himself not minding.

He was just about to move up when he heard the door open.

"Ms. Schnee, please come in," Professor Goodwitch said, calm as can be. Like she didn't have one of her students going down on her underneath her desk. Jaune froze and debated pulling back when Professor Goodwitch's legs wrapped around him. The message was clear: don't go anywhere.

"Professor," Weiss' prim and proper voice greeted back, "I... assume this is about the incident in today's combat class."

"Exactly so." Professor Goodwitch pulled him even closer, his face pressed against her snatch. The intoxicating smell was overwhelming now, "You've been acting particularly aggressive during sparring matches. This isn't like you, Ms. Schnee."

"I... that is..." He could practically see Weiss shuffling from one foot to another, "I've been... frustrated in recent days, professor. My apologies."

"Would that be because of your conflict with Mr. Arc?" Her right hand reached down and patted his head. Jaune back to lick again, clumsier this time but still eager to please. If Professor Goodwitch showed any signs that she was being eaten out, then Weiss didn't notice.

"That's not-" Weiss took a deep breath, "That is, I apologize for my behavior. Juli- uh, Jaune has been difficult." Despite the situation, Jaune almost rolled his eyes. He was being difficult? Says the woman trying to get freebies from an old crush (that he didn't have anymore) because she wanted to get her rocks off making him play the naughty Faunus maid. Seriously, it was either she secretly wanted to fuck her sister or Blake. There was no in-between.

...Well, except for when she was clearly angling to have him put on a black wig with red tips. Thankfully, daddy Schnee cut her off before then.

"Difficult. I see." Professor Goodwitch gripped his head. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him (as if he needed it) that she had total control, "Would you like me to call Mr. Arc here so you two could resolve your differences?"

"No! I mean-" Weiss stuttered for an explanation, "It's nothing that deserves your personal attention, professor. I... I lost my cool. I was frustrated and lashed out. It was wrong and I won't do it again."

"Hm. Mr. Arc must've frustrated you dearly." She moved his head up, nose practically adhered to her muff. She was leading him to her clit, which was slowly coming out of its hood. Jaune moved with the training of someone who'd done this dozens of times before. Tentative licks first to ease her into it. No biting and sucking, at least not yet. Even if some suicidal part of him was tempted to bite down and make Goodwitch squeal in front of Weiss.

"Yes. It's been...difficult since our disagreement." This time he did roll his eyes. Nice way to say 'Daddy cut my allowance and now I can't afford my fetishes', "But again, it doesn't justify my poor behavior. I'll make sure to control myself better in the future."

"See that you do." Her clit was out in full now, and despite Jaune's ministrations, she sounded completely calm. Jaune began to gently suck on the nub, some part of him almost hoping Goodwitch's voice would stutter even just a bit, "I'm sure Juliette would be disappointed to hear her mistress is acting out."

The air in the room seemed to drop 10 degrees. Jaune stopped eating the professor out before a quick tug on his hair silently ordered him to keep going. At the same time, he heard Weiss gasp, "Wh-What did you say?"

"I said that Mr. Arc would be saddened if he thought he was responsible for any poor behavior," Goodwitch said. She sounded so damn confident that he almost believed her, "I thought you were getting along better ever since he stopped his rather crude flirtations. Or was I mistaken?"

"Julie- JAUNE and I have been getting along... better, yes." Weiss sounded like she wanted to be anywhere but here. He couldn't blame her, "I... is there anything else, professor? If not, I really should be going now. Train more."

"Yes, I'm sure you'd like that. Perhaps you should train with Mr. Arc in the future. I understand he's been refining his technique." He sucked particularly hard on her clit and felt a little burst of satisfaction when she let out a soft breath. Not enough for Weiss to notice, but he did.

"I'll... take that under advisement. Th-Thank you, professor." Weiss turned on her fancy high heel and left, each step echoing against the carpet.

It was only when the door finally clicked shut again that Jaune finally released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Goodwitch's grip on his hair loosened and she murmured, "Good boy." Something about those two words made him snap. He sucked and bit at her clit in a frenzy, desperate to make her lose her cool. One moan, one little muffled cry. Something.

Instead, she just gave that pleased hum like she'd seen a particularly good research paper, "Someone's eager," she murmured, laughing under her breath, "Why not take care of yourself while you're down there? I still have a little bit to go."

It wasn't an order, it wasn't even a demand, but Glynda Goodwitch had a way of making people listen. His right hand fumbled for his skirt and he reached under it and through the silk underwear (so he was thorough, sue him) to grab at his rock-hard dick. He'd been hard ever since she spread her legs, but he kept himself from getting handsy by remembering his work. The client's needs came first, even if he (rightfully) complained when his friends got him into some weird shit.

His jerking was clumsy, which wasn't helped by his position and the fact that he was still focused on eating her out. While his hand jerked across his length with a shaky fist, his mouth and tongue were practically glued to Goodwitch's slit. Her cunt was wet not just from his own fluids but from her obvious arousal, even though she kept typing up above like she didn't even notice. It was a challenge now. He wanted her to slip just once, gods damn it.

Up and down his hand went, his cock slick with his sweat and pre. He closed his eyes and imagined Weiss standing in front of Goodwitch's table again. The thought of her being there while he was eating out the deputy headmistress made his skin tingle in ways he couldn't explain. So far, he'd avoided any exhibitionist fantasies. Some of his clients definitely wanted it (and were willing to pay quadruple digits), but the thought of being caught ass-naked in a park bush kept him from accepting.

But now, the thought of being caught - even pushing Goodwitch to slip and make it obvious to Weiss - made his gut burn with want.

"I must say, while your combat skills are still a work in progress, your other talents are... satisfactory." The brief pause sent a pleasurable tingle down his spine. She still soundeded calm as can be, but he noticed how her fingers stopped typing for ten seconds. Ten seconds of her trying to balance herself, "Perhaps I should make this a repeat arrangement. I just finished double checking your paperwork. Some minor typos and mistakes, but easily rectified in minutes."

Jaune felt a burst of irritation. Was she seriously talking about paperwork right now? This was-

"Of course, if you do better next time, I could... reward you. Excellent work deserves proper compensation, after all."

Paperwork? Amazing. Love it. Already training to do better.

"I'm close, Juliette." Brothers, he didn't know whether to be annoyed or turned on with how casual she sounded. She'd stopped typing now, leaning back on the chair with a soft, satisfied sigh. He chanced a look up. Her face was dotted with the slightest bits of sweat and her eyes were closed. The most amazing thing was the fact that her glasses were askew. To anyone else, that might've looked normal, but for Glynda Goodwitch? It was about as normal as seeing Weiss in sweatpants. It just didn't happen.

She was rattled.

His own jerking had reached a fever pitch now. Sweat dripped down his brow as he forced himself to focus on both pleasing his mistress and bring himself to his own climax. The head of his cock was practically dripping with seed now as he imagined inserting something else besides his tongue up her quim.

She came when he gently bit down on her clit. There was no graphic moan or dramatic back arching. She let out a soft breath and gripped the armrests with (almost) controlled tightness as she released. The slighty tangy taste of her cum wasn't anything different from all the others he'd tasted before, but knowing that it was coming from the most desired woman on campus - even over Weiss, Yang, and Pyrrha - made it feel sweeter somehow.

He came himself only seconds later. He was too in the moment to even care that his semen shot out like a geyser and pelted Glynda's thighs or fell down to the floor. He froze, almost expecting to get telekinetically launched out the window. When he looked up, he found his mistress looking down at him with half-lidded eyes and an amused... well, it wasn't exactly a smile, but it was close enough. It was a look most guys in Beacon would literally kill for.

Jaune licked his cum-soaked lips and finally managed to find his voice, "Was... Was that satisyfing for you, mistress?"

"Yes, Juliette, it was." She pushed her chair back, finally giving him space to stand. Jaune winced at the slight feeling of stiffness on his limbs and wiped the rest of the cum off his face. His dick was already softening, but the sight in front of him made it impossible for it deflate completely. Gods, he wanted to fuck her so bad, but he reminded himself of his place here. He was the maid, he did whatever his client wanted. He couldn't push, no matter how much he wanted to.

And he really, really wanted to...

Jaune wiped his mouth one more time, trying to play it cool despite the fact that his heart was still hammering like Nora after too much caffeine. He glanced up at Professor Goodwitch, who was already straightening her skirt and fixing her glasses like nothing had happened. The woman had just been eaten out under her desk while having a casual conversation with Weiss, and she looked like she'd simply finished grading papers.

Meanwhile, Jaune felt like he'd just run a marathon in heels. Which, technically, he kind of had, "So, uh..." he started, his voice still a bit hoarse, "Did you want to... do more?" His eyes drifted hopefully toward the riding crop still sitting on her desk. He'd been fantasizing about that thing for months, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out what Professor Goodwitch could do with it besides terrifying students into proper combat stances.

Professor Goodwitch followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow, "I'm quite satisfied for now, thank you," she said, adjusting her blouse, "Though I wouldn't say no to a foot massage. All this paperwork has me rather tense."

Jaune's face lit up. Not exactly what he'd been hoping for, but hey, touching Professor Goodwitch in any capacity was still a win in his book, "Absolutely! I mean, yes, mistress. Whatever you need."

She settled back into her chair, extending one stockinged leg toward him. The torn fabric from earlier hung in tatters, but somehow that just made the whole thing hotter. Jaune knelt down and carefully took her foot in his hands, working his thumbs into the arch. All those years of rubbing his sisters' feet after their shopping marathons were finally paying off in the weirdest way possible. A part of him hated how he was so eager to please - simp... - but an even bigger part told it to shut the fuck up.

"You know," Professor Goodwitch said casually as he worked, "Your... side job is cutting into your training time with Ms. Nikos."

Jaune's hands faltered slightly, "I, uh, try to balance things-"

"You need all the help you can get, considering your fake transcripts."

Jaune froze completely, his blood turning to ice in his veins. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit fuck damn hell-

Professor Goodwitch must have felt him tense up because she chuckled softly, "Relax, Juliette. At this point, that's the least illegal thing about you." She gestured vaguely between them, "Or did you think the deputy headmistress having 'relations' with a student was perfectly normal?"

Jaune's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. His brain had officially short-circuited. She knew? About the transcripts? And she was cool with it? "I- you- we-" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely shot to hell.

"Before you give yourself an aneurysm," Professor Goodwitch interrupted, "I have a proposition for you." She switched feet, placing her other one in his still-trembling hands, "I'd like to offer you additional combat training. Private sessions, on my own time."

Jaune blinked rapidly, trying to process this development, "You... want to train me? Even though I'm a fraud who just had his face between your-"

"Especially because of those things," she said matter-of-factly, "You clearly have motivation to improve, and I have... personal reasons for wanting to ensure you succeed. Convenience reasons."

"But why?" Jaune asked, genuinely confused, "I mean, I'm grateful, obviously, but-"

"Because I want to," Professor Goodwitch cut him off, "Does there need to be another reason?"

Jaune stared at her for a moment, then broke into the biggest grin he'd had all week, "Yes! Hell yes. I mean, yes please, Professor. I'd love that."

She nodded approvingly, "Good. We'll start next week. And Mr. Arc?" She leaned forward slightly, her green eyes boring into his, "This arrangement stays between us."

"Of course," Jaune nodded frantically, "Secret. Got it. My lips are sealed."

"They'd better be," she said with the faintest hint of a smirk, "Now, finish with my feet. I have a faculty meeting in an hour."

Almost an hour later, Jaune stumbled back toward his dorm room looking absolutely fucked stupid. His maid outfit was completely askew - the headband hanging off one ear, his skirt twisted around his waist, stockings laddered beyond repair, and his apron had somehow gotten tangled with his hair extensions. He probably looked like he'd been through a blender, which honestly wasn't that far from the truth.

His brain was still trying to process everything that had happened. Professor Goodwitch knew about his transcripts and didn't care. She'd basically admitted to committing a crime by sleeping with him and also didn't care. And somehow, out of all that insanity, he'd ended up with a personal combat instructor who happened to be one of the most skilled Huntresses in Vale. Pyrrha was impressive, best partner ever, 10 out of 10, but Professor Goodwitch was... Professor Goodwitch.

His life was fucking weird.

He pushed open the door to Team JNPR's dorm, still in a daze. Ren was at his desk reading, Nora was upside down on her bed tossing pancake bits at the ceiling (and completely missing the trash can), and Pyrrha was sitting on her bed, polishing Miló with maybe a little more force than necessary.

All three of them looked up when he entered. Pyrrha's smile seemed particularly forced, her green eyes scanning his disheveled appearance with an expression that was hard to read. She seemed stressed, but he was too tired for their daily five stress relief sessions. Maybe next time, "So," Pyrrha said, her voice bright and cheerful in an odd way he couldn't place "How was your appointment, Jaune? Who was your client today?"

Jaune flopped down on his bed, not even bothering to change out of the maid outfit, "Professor Goodwitch," he said, his voice slightly muffled by his pillow.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Ren, without looking up from his book, said in his usual deadpan tone, "Nice."

"REN!" Nora shrieked, immediately rolling off her bed and tackling her partner, "You're supposed to be PURE! INNOCENT! How do you even know what that means?!"

"I have eyes, Nora," Ren replied calmly, even as she tried to put him in a headlock, "And I'm not blind to what Jaune does for work."

"That's not the point!" Nora wailed, now attempting to cover Ren's ears with her hands while he continued reading like all was right with the world, "You're not supposed to appreciate other people's sexy times! What about OUR sexy times?!"

"We don't have sexy times, Nora."

"EXACTLY! That's the problem!"

Jaune tuned them out and went to sleep. After the day he had, he deserved it.

[line break]

No penetration for Glynda... yet. Glynda being one of the clients Jaune is super into, plus her not being a stupid 19-20 something, means she doesn't blow her load early. It also means she can show up for a sequel chapter where that riding crop gets used.

Who do you guys want next? Last time Glynda was voted so I put her in. Cinder? Winter? Someone else?

Status Update

Hey, sorry for the gap. I’ve been sick for the past few days and I’ve been dealing with some stuff at work. I’m already getting back to the groove, though. Maid Jaune 6 (Goodwitch) is coming out soon then either the next chapter for Mr. and Mrs. Arc-Schnee or Minecraft Faunus Jaune

Mister and Missus Arc-Schnee - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 out of maybe 5. Hope you guys enjoy.

[line break]

Roman Torchwick considered himself a professional. A criminal mastermind, a master thief, a criminal virtuoso. Vale's most wanted for a reason. He had style, panache, and enough skill with his cane to make even trained Huntsmen think twice before crossing him (and made them regret when they did). You didn't grow up in the mean streets of Mistral without learning how

So how, exactly, had his evening devolved into... this?

The heist had started perfectly. Moonlight gleaming off the shipping containers at the Vale docks. The White Fang grunts - useless animals, the lot of them, but they had numbers and were scared enough of Cinder to follow orders - were actually managing to load Dust crates without dropping them for once. Neo was off handling another job, but he didn't need her for simple grunt work like this.

Roman took a long drag from his cigar, savoring the expensive blend. In an hour, they'd be gone with enough Dust to keep Cinder happy, and he'd be one step closer to whatever insane endgame the crazy fire witch was planning. Not that she bothered to tell him the details. Just "steal this" and "recruit them" and "don't fail me, Roman."

Women. Always so demanding.

"Well, well, well. Stealing from the Schnee Dust Company? I must say, that's rather offensive to me personally."

Roman spun around, cane at the ready, to find two teenagers standing at the edge of the docks. A short, prissy little thing in white with a rapier, and a tall, lanky blonde farmboy with a sword and shield that looked like hand-me-downs from the Great War.

Oh, for the love of-

"Kids," Roman said, forcing a smile as he tapped his cigar against the edge of his cane, "shouldn't you be in bed? It's past your curfew."

The white-haired girl stepped forward, and Roman recognized her immediately. Weiss Schnee. The Special Snowflake Princess herself. Co-CEO of the SDC after her daddy got arrested for tax fraud or embezzlement or whatever it was - hard to keep track of white-collar crimes when you specialized in the more direct variety. Honestly, at least he was honest about being a criminal. All that spreadsheet and bribing politicians sounded like far too much busywork.

"That's my Dust you're stealing," she said, chin raised with all the entitlement of someone born with a silver spoon lodged permanently up her ass, "And I'm not in the habit of letting petty criminals help themselves to my property."

Roman laughed. Genuinely laughed, "Sweetheart, shouldn't you be at a board meeting? Or a debutante ball? Playing Huntress is going to ruin your manicure." He glanced at the blonde farmboy, "And who's your date? He looks like he got his combat gear from a yard sale." The farmboy just smiled, and something about that smile made Roman's instincts twitch. It wasn't the smile of some scared kid. It was the smile of someone who knew something Roman didn't.

"I'm giving you one chance to surrender," Schnee said, drawing her ridiculous toothpick of a rapier, "Before this gets... messy."

"Yeah," the blonde added, drawing a surprisingly well-maintained sword, "We've got, like, three other apocalypses to prevent after this, so..."

Roman blinked. What did the farm boy just say? "Seriously?" the Schnee girl hissed, turning to her friend with narrowed eyes, "You just had to mention the apocalypses, didn't you? What happened to subtlety?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," the blonde shot back, "I forgot I was talking to the queen of subtlety here. How's your new best friend Penny doing, by the way?"

The Schnee girl's face turned an interesting shade of crimson, "Shut up, Arc!"

Roman sighed dramatically, "Look, Ice Queen, I'm not in the mood to fight children tonight. Even rich ones playing dress-up with Daddy's money. Oh wait-" he grinned, "Daddy's in prison now, isn't he? So I guess you're just the pretty figurehead while the grown-ups run the company, hmm?"

He expected her to get flustered. To stamp her foot and pout. What he didn't expect was for her to move faster than his eyes could track, a blur of white that suddenly materialized two inches from his face, "First," she said, her voice colder than Atlas in winter, "I earned my position. Second, you talk too much." Roman barely managed to bring his cane up to block the rapier thrust aimed at his throat. The impact sent vibrations up his arm that made his teeth rattle. What the hell? He knew Aura was a force equalizer, but this was ridiculous. He'd taken hits from Huntsmen twice her weight without flinching.

"White Fang! Hey, you animals!" he shouted, backpedaling rapidly, "Earn your keep!"

A dozen Faunus terrorist charged forward, weapons raised. The farmboy stepped in front of Schnee - chivalrous idiot - and raised his shield, "You realize I can handle myself, right?" Schnee said, glaring at the blonde.

"Old habits," the boy replied with a shrug, "You going to summon the Knight, or should I handle these guys myself?"

"Oh, because you did such a good job handling those Beringels in Vacuo?"

"That was one time! And I had food poisoning!" 

"From a hot dog you insisted was 'perfectly fine' despite sitting in the sun for three hours!"

Roman blinked, momentarily forgetting the imminent threat as he watched the two teenagers bicker like... well, like an old married couple. What the hell was going on?

His confusion was short-lived as the Schnee girl suddenly slammed her rapier into the ground, creating a massive glyph thatsummoned a giant, spectral knight twice as tall as the shipping containers. The glowing behemoth swung its sword in a wide arc, sending White Fang grunts flying like bowling pins. Roman grit his teeth. Damn Semblances.

"Show-off," the farmboy muttered, before charging directly at him. Roman fired his cane, the explosive round speeding toward the boy's face. The kid should have at least tried to dodge. Instead, he just tilted his shield slightly. The round bounced off at precisely the right angle to hit a White Fang grunt who was sneaking up on Schnee. The resulting explosion sent the Faunus flying into the harbor with a splash.

"Trying to be a gentleman, Arc?" Schnee called, not even looking back as her spectral knight flattened three more White Fang members, "But I suppose I should thank you."

"Lucky ricochet," the farmboy - Arc, apparently - replied, closing the distance to Roman with alarming speed. Roman swung his cane, aiming for the kid's head. The boy didn't even try to block. He just... wasn't there when the cane arrived, having shifted his weight by a fraction of an inch. The dodge was so effortless, so casual, that Roman felt a surge of genuine anger.

"Stand still, you little-" Roman's insult was cut short as the flat of Arc's blade slammed into his gut, driving the air from his lungs.

"Your footwork's gotten sloppy," Schnee commented, casually disarming two White Fang members without taking her eyes off Arc, "I'm surprised they even let you into Beacon this time around." This time around? What was that supposed to mean?

"Says the girl who can't even hit a Boarbatusk without tripping over her own feet," Arc shot back, blocking Roman's retaliatory swing and countering with a shield bash that sent Roman staggering.

"That was one time! And it was because you distracted me with that ridiculous dance you were doing!"

"It wasn't a dance, it was a legitimate combat technique!"

"The only technique involved was making yourself look like an idiot!"

Roman, having regained his footing, stared at the bickering teenagers in complete bewilderment. They were demolishing his operation - his beautiful, perfect heist - while arguing like they'd known each other for decades. The Schnee girl's summon was methodically crushing White Fang militants. The farmboy was casually blocking and dodging Roman's every attack like he could read Roman's mind. And they just. Wouldn't. Shut. Up.

"-never should have let you plan our honeymoon!" Schnee was saying as she created a series of glyphs that launched three White Fang members into the air.

"Oh, here we go again with the honeymoon!" Arc rolled his eyes, ducking under Roman's swing and retaliating with a kick that connected solidly with Roman's knee, "I said I was sorry about the Grimm attack! How was I supposed to know there was a nest of King Taijitus under the resort?"

Honeymoon? These kids were like, what, seventeen? Brothers, those Atlesians married young, didn't they? Roman's brain was starting to hurt, and not just from the repeated impacts of farmboy's shield against his head, "WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP AND JUST FIGHT?!" Roman finally screamed, his composure cracking like cheap glass, "FOR THE LOVE OF- JUST STOP BICKERING AND FOCUS ON THE BATTLE!"

Both teenagers paused, turning to look at him with identical expressions of surprise, as if they'd forgotten he was there even as they were trampling him underfoot, "He's right, you know," Arc said after a moment, lowering his shield slightly, "We're being unprofessional."

"I suppose," Schnee said with a sniff, "We should focus on apprehending the criminal element."

"Thank you!" Roman exclaimed. Finally they could have some-

The farmboy's shield slammed into his face with enough force to make him see stars. As he staggered backward, he saw the Schnee girl creating what looked like a giant, spectral fist above his head, "This doesn't mean I forgive you for the honeymoon!" was the last thing Roman heard before the fist came crashing down.

When Roman regained consciousness, he was trussed up like a Seasonal Festival turkey, his hands and feet bound with what felt like ice. Around him, the White Fang members were in similar states of restraint and unconsciousness. Or dead. The Dust shipment sat untouched.

And the two teenagers were still arguing.

"-could have timed that better if you hadn't been grandstanding with your shield," Schnee was saying, examining her nails as if checking for chips in the polish.

"Me? Grandstanding? That's rich coming from Miss 'I Need to Summon a Giant Knight for Five Grunts'! Did you forget how to swing a sword, Ice Queen? When was the last time you ever used Time Dilation? Could've used that in that Deathstalker hunt in Anima!"

"It was efficient! And don't you dare bring up my time dilation! You know I'm sensitive about that!"

"It was excessive! Just like our wedding cake!"

"Don't you DARE bring up the cake again, Jaune Arc! I will freeze you solid and feed you to a Nevermore!"

Roman let his head thump back against the concrete. Maybe jail wouldn't be so bad. At least it would be quiet.

In the distance, he heard police sirens approaching. Neo was going to be so disappointed in him. Cinder was going to be furious. But somehow, the thing that bothered him most was that he'd been defeated by two children who couldn't even stop fighting each other long enough to fight him properly.

Professional pride. It was a curse sometimes.

As the police cars pulled up to the docks, Roman closed his eyes and hoped that whatever cell they put him in had good soundproofing. He'd had enough of teenage drama for one night.

[line break]

Adam Taurus was not a patient man. Particularly not when it came to incompetence, and especially not when that incompetence came from humans. Roman Torchwick's arrest weeks ago had set their timeline back significantly. The flamboyant criminal had one job - acquire Dust - and he'd managed to fail spectacularly at the hands of two Beacon students. One of whom was a Schnee.

The irony wasn't lost on Adam.

He stalked through the abandoned subway tunnels beneath Mountain Glenn, Wilt and Blush strapped securely to his hip. The darkness posed no issue for his faunus eyes, which swept methodically over the train cars lined up and ready. Each one loaded with stolen Dust, bombs, and the means to breach Vale's defenses. When the time came, they would punch a hole straight through to the city center, allowing the Grimm lurking in the ruins above to pour in and feast on human fear.

It wasn't supposed to happen yet, of course. But Adam was nothing if not thorough. Every detail had to be perfect, "The final coupling mechanisms are in place," Bane said, his massive lieutenant's chainsaw resting casually against his shoulder as he approached. The man's imposing size made even the spacious tunnels feel cramped, his Grimm mask more elaborate than those of the regular foot soldiers, "We'll be ready to move on your command when the time comes."

Adam nodded, satisfaction mingling with irritation. The plan was sound, but he couldn't help thinking they could have been weeks ahead of schedule if not for Torchwick's failure, "And the explosives?"

"Primed and ready. Each car is rigged to detach and detonate on impact."

"Good." Adam had no fond feelings for Cinder Fall or her scheme, but their goals aligned for now. If working with a human meant bringing Vale to its knees - meant making the Schnees and their ilk feel true fear - then he would tolerate the arrangement. Whether they stayed 'allies' after her plans came to fruition remained to be seen, though he had his doubts.

Cinder had "suggested" that Torchwick's partner, that diminutive assassin with the parasol, join him after Roman's arrest. Adam had refused outright. After Torchwick's "leadership" had led to the arrests and deaths of their Brothers and Sisters, the remaining White Fang couldn't stomach the idea of another human in their midst. And neither could he. This was an alliance of convenience, nothing more. It had been a mistake to let a human assume command for even the small group he'd been given.

"We should check the forward cars again," Adam said, turning toward the front of the train, "Make sure the Paladins are secured properly for transport." Bane followed silently, his heavy footfalls echoing through the tunnel. They had just reached the lead car when Adam's instincts flared. He froze, hand moving to Wilt's hilt, "Someone's here," he said quietly, the words barely loud enough for Bane to hear.

As if on cue, two figures emerged from the shadows ahead, stepping into the dim light cast by the tunnel's sparse emergency fixtures. Adam's lip curled into a snarl beneath his mask as he recognized the smaller figure. White hair, pale skin, and that unmistakable air of superiority that all Schnees carried like a second Semblance.

Weiss Schnee. The newest co-CEO - co-tyrant - of the company that had ground his people beneath their heel for generations. She stood with perfect posture, one hand resting casually on the rapier at her hip, looking spectacularly unimpressed to find the leader of the Vale branch of the White Fang in an abandoned tunnel. Beside her stood a tall, blond human male with a sword and shield. Adam dismissed him with barely a glance. Just another Huntsman-in-training playing at heroics.

The Schnee's eyes - cold and blue as glacier ice - met his mask, "Adam Taurus, I presume?" she said, her voice carrying the cultured inflection of someone raised in Atlas high society, "Beacon's a little lax on their security, don't you think? How did THIS slip past them?"

The blond human snorted, "You're seriously going to critique the school's security? Right now?"

"It's a valid point, don't pretend you don't agree." she retorted, not looking at him, "If Ozpin had sent a team when the tracks were first discovered, we might have caught them still setting up."

Adam gave them no warning. No speech. No chance to surrender. He simply attacked. His sword cleared its sheath in a flash of crimson, the blade singing through the air as he launched himself at the Schnee. She would die first. Quickly, if she was lucky. Slowly, if he was lucky.

The Schnee didn't even flinch. With a casual flick of her wrist, a glyph materialized beneath her feet, propelling her sideways as Adam's blade sliced through empty air. Before he could adjust, a wall of ice erupted from the ground, forcing him to leap backward, "Wow, not even a monologue?" the blond human called out, already engaged with Bane, whose massive chainsaw was whirring to life, "That's refreshing! Most bad guys love to talk before they try to kill us."

"He's not the type," the Schnee replied, summoning a series of glyphs that surrounded Adam like a cage, "Blake mentioned he was more of the 'strike first, spout manifesto later' variety."

Adam's blood boiled at the casual mention of Blake's name, "You dare speak of her?" he snarled, slashing through one of the glyphs only to find two more appearing in its place, "After your family enslaved our kind for generations?"

The Schnee rolled her eyes - rolled her eyes - at him, "Dramatic, aren't we? For your information, I've implemented more faunus labor reforms in three years than the Vale Council has in three decades. But I suppose it's easier to paint all humans with the same brush than acknowledge progress, isn't it?" She sighed, dodging his attacks with contemptous ease, "From what I've heard, you had - have, sorry - a black and white view of the world. Faunus up top, Humans at the bottom, all Schnees evil."

Adam channeled his rage into his next strike, charging his blade with the energy he'd absorbed from the glyph. The red highlights in his mask glowed ominously as he prepared to unleash his Semblance-

Only to find himself surrounded by not one, but three spectral knights, their massive swords poised to strike from different angles, "Looking for a fair fight?" the Schnee asked, her tone almost bored, "Sorry to disappoint. I don't believe in fighting fair against terrorists."

Adam was forced to abort his attack, using his Semblance's energy to deflect the simultaneous strikes from the summoned knights. As he did, a fourth summon - this one a Boarbatusk - slammed into his side, sending him skidding across the tunnel floor.

"You know what I find fascinating?" the Schnee said, creating yet another glyph that accelerated her movement to blinding speed. Even his enhanced senses could barely keep up, "You claim to fight for faunus equality, yet here you are, planning to flood Vale with Grimm." She appeared behind him, rapier striking at his exposed back. Adam barely twisted in time to block, "The same Vale where thousands of faunus live and work. Amazing consistency there."

"You know nothing of our struggle!" Adam sbarke, frustration mounting as he found himself constantly on the defensive. Every attack he blocked seemed to spawn three more from different directions, whittling away at his Aura, barely giving him a chance to absorb energy for his Semblance.

"Oh, I know plenty," the Schnee replied, dancing - literally dancing - around his increasingly desperate attacks, "I know you're so obsessed with punishing humans that you don't care how many faunus die in the process. How very noble of you."

Across the tunnel, the blond human was making short work of Bane and the White Fang soldiers who had rushed to assist. Adam had seen Bane tear through trained Huntsmen with that chainsaw, yet the blond was matching him strength for strength, his shield deflecting the massive weapon while his sword found every gap in Bane's defense, "You're literally feeding your own people to the Grimm," the blonde called out, driving his shield into Bane's chest with enough force to dent the tunnel wall when the lieutenant crashed into it, "Did you even think this plan through? Or were you too busy polishing that edgy mask?"

"Don't waste your breath, Jaune," the Schnee said, summoning yet another creature - an Ursa this time - to pursue Adam as he attempted to gain some distance, "He's not exactly known for his critical thinking skills. Just ask Blake." She summoned more glyphs around him, "You know, given how much he hates my family, I'm surprised we didn't meet before."

"Oh, here we go again," the human - Jaune, she called him - groaned, disarming another White Fang member with insulting ease, "Of course you have to make Blake's trauma all about you."

"I'm not making it about me!" the Schnee snapped, her attention briefly shifting from Adam, "I'm just pointing out that for someone who despises my family, he certainly didn't make an effort to hunt a Schnee down! It's inconsistent!"

"Classic Weiss Schnee," Jaune said, rolling his eyes as he casually blocked a strike from Bane that should have cleaved him in two, "Always has to make herself the center of Remnant."

"I am not getting advice about being self-centered from a guy who cheated on me with our best friend!"

"Oh, here we go again with this!" The blonde threw Bane like a ragdoll, "Nothing happened! I think I'd know if Ruby was trying to get in my pants!"

"You'd know? What, you're a relationship expert now? That's rich coming from the man who thought bringing flowers to Pyrrha after she'd been crushing on him for a year was 'just being friendly'!" 

"That was DIFFERENT and you know it!"

Adam stared in disbelief. They were... arguing? In the middle of combat? And still somehow managing to thoroughly trounce him and his men? The indignity of it burned almost as much as the growing collection of cuts, bruises, and ice burns decorating his body, "If you're finished with your domestic squabble," Adam snarled, gathering what energy he could for one final, desperate attack, "Perhaps you'd like to focus on the battle at hand!"

The Schnee turned back to him, looking almost surprised, as if she'd forgotten he was there, "Oh, we are focused," she said, her rapier glowing with Dust energy, "Trust me, if we weren't, you'd have been dead five minutes ago."

"We're multitaskers," Jaune added cheerfully, standing over the unconscious forms of Bane and three other White Fang members. His Aura was barely depleted, the white glow still strong around his frame, "Years of practice arguing while fighting."

Adam didn't understand. These were students - children - yet they fought with the coordination and skill of veteran Huntsmen. And the Schnee's summoning ability... he'd never heard of a Schnee manifesting that power so young. Even the combat footage of Winter Schnee paled in comparison,

"You should have come alone, Adam," the Schnee said, raising her rapier as glyphs formed in a ring around him, "Blake always said you were at your most dangerous when isolated. Charging your Semblance with every hit you took until you could release it all at once."

"That's why we brought friends," Jaune added, gesturing to the summoned creatures still circling Adam, "Can't charge your Semblance if you can't land a solid hit, right?"

Adam's rage reached its peak. How dare they speak so casually about his abilities? About Blake? As if they knew anything about either? He would not be mocked by humans - especially not by a Schnee. With a roar of fury, he charged, Wilt's blade glowing with what little energy he'd managed to store.

The Schnee sighed, almost disappointed, "Predictable." A massive glyph formed directly in his path, "Jaune, would you mind?"

"Nah. I still owe him for what he did to Yang. Or what he would have done to Yang. Time travel makes grammar complicated."

What in the hell were they-

Adam's thoughts were cut short as the blond human's shield slammed into him from behind, propelling him directly into the Schnee's waiting glyph. The world exploded into white as lightning Dust coursed through his body, overloading his nervous system and sending him crashing to the ground, his Aura shattered.

As consciousness faded, Adam Taurus - feared leader of the Vale branch of the White Fang, the Scourge of Atlas, the sworn enemy of the Schnee family - was forced to endure the final indignity of hearing his conquerors resume their bickering.

"We should have come sooner," the Schnee was saying, her voice already fading as consciousness slowly began to slip away, "If you hadn't insisted on that ridiculous stakeout in Forever Fall-"

"Oh, so now it's my fault that you wanted to make absolutely sure before acting? I remember someone saying 'we need concrete evidence before we can approach Ozpin'..."

"That was before I knew you'd fall asleep during your watch!"

"I did NOT fall asleep! I was conserving energy!"

"By SNORING?"

Adam's last conscious thought was that perhaps death would have been preferable to this humiliation. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to these two argue like an old married couple while they dismantled everything he'd worked for.

He got his wish. Just as they were discussing a "disastrous honeymoon in Vacuo" and Schnee screamed about "signing the divorce papers again this time around", the blonde human gestured to him. The last thing Adam saw was Schnee walking towards him before she raised her rapier, the tip aimed straight at his head. Then she thrust down and everything went black.

[line break]

Cinder Fall was not accustomed to things going wrong. Her plans were meticulous, her contingencies had contingencies, and she'd spent years orchestrating Salem's machinations with a precision that bordered on artistry. But lately, annoyance had become her constant companion.

She glanced at her scroll again, tapping a manicured nail against its darkened screen. Adam still wasn't answering her calls, which she couldn't say surprised her. After Roman's spectacular failure at the docks, the Faunus extremist had been even more of a sullen little terrorist than usual, barely deigning to acknowledge her instructions during their last meeting. Still, so long as he performed his role when the time came, he could be as pouty as he wanted. She only needed him for the White Fang's numbers and to move the train when the signal came. After that? Well...she didn't really need him and his pack of pathetic zealots anymore.

Cinder leaned back on her bed with a sigh, right leg crossed elegantly over her left. The Haven Academy uniform was hardly her most glamorous costume, but needs must. Her golden eyes swept across the modest dorm room that served as their temporary headquarters, her gaze calculating.

First, they needed to find precisely where Ozpin was keeping the Fall Maiden's body. Then, they would trigger the train crash from Mountain Glenn, combined with the sabotage they had planned for the Vytal Tournament. The ensuing chaos would keep Ozpin and his sycophants distracted enough that they'd never see the real attack coming until it was too late. Killing Ozpin himself was secondary. Her mistress made it clear that the Maiden powers were what mattered, not his (temporary) demise.

But for now, they had to wait. Patience, after all, was one of her more cultivated virtues.

Cinder's eyes moved to the rest of her "team." Emerald sat nearby at the desk, pretending to study while casting furtive glances her way. The mint-haired thief had that same expression she always wore when watching Cinder: a pathetic look of fawning adoration mixed with desperate need for approval. The girl was useful, her illusion Semblance invaluable, but maintaining the facade of the doting mother figure (or was it sister? Emerald seemed to see her as both simultaneously) could be grating. Still, she knew the value of having someone with Emerald's talents slavishly loyal. A few well-placed compliments were cheap currency for that kind of devotion.

Her gaze flickered to Mercury, who lay sprawled on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with affected boredom. The gray-haired assassin was perhaps the most difficult to read. Unlike Emerald, she had no real leverage over him. He'd joined because violence was all he knew, and she offered that in abundance. But technically, nothing prevented him from simply walking away if he chose. That unpredictability made him both valuable and annoying. She had Emerald keeping an eye on him for a reason.

And finally, there was Neo. Or Mint Cream, as she appeared in her current disguise. The disguised little gremlin had been downright sullen since Roman's arrest. She'd attempted to orchestrate a breakout immediately, forcing Cinder to forbid the action with a not-so-subtle reminder of what disobedience would cost. The last thing they needed was to draw even more attention to themselves. Roman Torchwick, notorious thief, working with terrorists had already put the city on edge. If he escaped now, the heightened security would only complicate their plans further. No, they needed Vale calm and complacent. For now.

"I'm turning in," Cinder announced, stretching her arms languidly above her head, a motion calculated to draw Emerald's hungry gaze. Let the girl starve for affection; it made her easier to control, "We'll discuss our next move in the morning."

Emerald nodded eagerly, of course, while Mercury grunted without bothering to look her way. Neo simply stared, her disguised eyes unreadable, before returning her attention to her parasol. Insolent little creature. Once Roman outlived his usefulness, perhaps Neo would have an unfortunate accident as well, "Do you need anything before you sleep?" Emerald asked eagerly, "A glass of water? An extra blanket?"

"I'm fine," Cinder replied, letting a hint of warmth color her voice, "But thank you, dear." Emerald practically glowed at the endearment. So pathetically predictable.

Cinder settled back against her pillows, arranging her body in a pose of casual elegance even in sleep. One never knew when one might be observed, after all. She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift to the power that would soon be hers. The half of the Fall Maiden's abilities she'd already stolen thrummed beneath her skin, a constant reminder of the greater prize awaiting her. Adam could throw his little tantrum as long as he answered when the time came. For now, she would get her beauty sleep.

Her dreamless rest was abruptly interrupted hours later by the sound of the door opening. Cinder's eyes shot open, instantly alert...except her body refused to respond. Her arms, legs, even down to her fingers and toes. All completely numb and immobile. On top of that, the room seemed to be spinning wildly around her, as if she were trapped in a crashing Bullhead. All she could move were her eyes, which darted around in panic, taking in the sight of her equally incapacitated teammates and the two figures stepping into their room.

Weiss Schnee, the spoiled Atlas heiress who had interfered with Roman's operation, stood in the doorway, a smug smile playing on her lips. Beside her, the tall blonde boy from Team RJWP (an utterly forgettable team that shouldn't have been on her radar at all) surveyed the room with a grim expression that seemed oddly out of place on his youthful face.

"See?" Schnee said, gesturing toward Cinder's paralyzed form with an elegant flick of her wrist, "I told you the paralytic would work. You owe me fifty lien."

The blonde - Jaune, if she recalled correctly from Ruby Rose (a Silver-Eyed Warrior) screaming his name - shook his head, "You're still kind of crazy for suggesting we poison the entire exchange student dorm's water supply just to get to four people."

"It wasn't the entire supply," Schnee replied, rolling her eyes, "Just their room. And it's only temporary paralysis. The kitchen staff will just assume it was mild food poisoning."

"Tell that to the poor maintenance guy who's going to find a dozen paralyzed Haven students when he checks the plumbing issue I reported."

"Details," Schnee waved dismissively, "Look, I'm not exactly happy that they were caught up in it, but by the time most of them wake up tomorrow, the poison will have passed. The ones who don't will chalk it up to sleep paralysis. I'll give a generous donation to Haven - after Lionheart is removed, of course - as compensation. The important thing is that it worked. Look at them. Complete neuromuscular inhibition, just as I predicted."

Cinder tried to make sense of what was happening. Poison? These...children had poisoned them? How was that possible? And more importantly, how did they know to target her team specifically? How did they know about that coward Lionheart? Her mind raced, trying to identify where security had been breached. Had Torchwick talked? Had Adam been compromised?

With a mental growl of effort, Cinder attempted to tap into the partial power of the Fall Maiden she possessed. She felt the familiar warmth building behind her eyes, the beginning of flames licking at her fingertips-

Only for everything to go abruptly dark as the blonde's boot connected with her face with shocking force. Her concentration shattered, the nascent flames sputtering out as her head snapped back and she fell from the bed onto the carpeted floor, "This is for Pyrrha," the boy said, his voice suddenly cold and hard, utterly unlike the awkward student she'd occasionally observed in the dining hall, "And for Penny, and Beacon, and every other life you destroyed."

Cinder's vision swam, confusion mingling with the pain blossoming across her face. Pyrrha? Penny? What was he talking about? Who were these people to her? And what did he mean by "destroyed"? She hadn't done anything...yet. She caught a glimpse of Emerald's wide, terrified eyes across the room, the thief struggling uselessly against her paralysis. Mercury's face was locked in a snarl of impotent rage. Neo's disguise had partially slipped, one eye pink, one brown, her features flickering between identities as her concentration faltered.

"You know," Schnee said conversationally, examining Cinder with the clinical detachment one might show a particularly uninteresting bug, "I always wondered what would have happened if we'd managed to stop you before the Fall. Before you killed that poor Amber woman and stole the rest of the Maiden's powers." Amber? How did this girl know about Amber? About the Maiden powers? It wasn't possible. This information was restricted to Salem's inner circle and Ozpin's most trusted lieutenants. Not a couple of teenagers

"Turns out," the blonde - Jaune- continued, "Stopping you is pretty easy when we know exactly who you are and what you're planning." He raised his boot again, positioning it directly above Cinder's face, "Much easier than trying to kill you after you've become a full Maiden."

"Though considerably less satisfying than watching you get frozen on top of a tower," Schnee added, her voice suddenly brittle with an emotion Cinder couldn't identify, "But I suppose we'll have to settle for imprisonment and executon this time. Probably safer that way."

Cinder's mind reeled. Tower? Freeze? These students were speaking as if events that hadn't yet occurred were firmly in the past. As if they knew her plans, knew about Salem, knew everything. It wasn't possible. It made no sense.

The last thing Cinder Fall saw before consciousness left her was the blonde's boot descending toward her face, and the brief, satisfied smirk on Weiss Schnee's face as she said, "This time, we're rewriting the story. And you don't get to be the winner anymore."

Then everything went black.

[line break]

Ozpin had lived through many things in his nigh-eternal war against Salem. He'd lived in a time where magic had been as common as the sky above, when the gods themselves walked the earth. A time of fairy tales and myth that had long since faded into legend. He had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, survived catastrophes that had reshaped the very world, and carried the crushing weight of mistakes that had cost countless lives.

And yet, he had to admit, even he found himself surprised by the situation he was facing now. Him, Glynda, Qrow, and James. Men and women who had decades of experience and knowledge that would bring most people to their knees, and yet they all found themselves flat-footed.

Sitting in front of them was Weiss Schnee and Jaune Arc with a captured transfer student named Cinder Fall lying unconscious in front of his desk. Ms. Fall, who they claimed had been the one to attack Amber and put her in that critical state. The other members of Ms. Fall's team were there too, all unconscious with Aura dampening collars around their necks. He recognized one of the 'transfer students' as Neo Politan, Roman Torchwick's partner in crime, which led credence to the idea that they weren't just innocent transfer students.

"Let me see if I understand this correctly," Ozpin said, keeping his voice calm despite the storm of questions raging in his mind. He took a slow sip from his mug, using the familiar gesture to center himself, "You're claiming that these Haven students are actually agents of Salem, sent to infiltrate the Vytal Festival and acquire the Fall Maiden's powers."

"Yes," Ms. Schnee replied, her posture perfect even after what must have been an exhausting confrontation, "Cinder Fall is the one who attacked Amber. She has a Grimm parasite in her arm that she used to steal half of the Fall Maiden's power. You can check for yourself."

James stepped forward, his mechanical hand flexing instinctively, "And you expect us to believe that you discovered this... how, exactly?" Ozpin's first instinct was caution, and James' even moreso. And yet, these two knew FAR too much for it to be a bluff. They knew about his wretched 'immortality', the attack on Amber, Amber's location, and claimed that Leonardo was a traitor. Either they had the worst information leak he'd ever had in his immortal life or...

"Simple," Ms. Schnee said, her voice steady, "We're from the future."

Qrow, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up with a bark of laughter, "Yeah, sure, and I'm the King of Atlas."

"You're Qrow Branwen," Mr. Arc said, his tone far more casual than his partner's, "You turn into an actual crow. Not just a bird Faunus, an actual crow. Your Semblance turns luck to shit. Your sister Raven left you and your team to go back to a bandit tribe. You drink because you think your Semblance hurts everyone around you. Oh, and you're Ruby and Yang's uncle, but that's public knowledge."

"Enough," Ozpin raised a hand, cutting the young man off. His mind was racing. These students knew things they absolutely should not know. Things that were impossible for them to know unless...

"Time travel," Glynda said flatly, voicing the absurdity aloud, "You can't possibly expect us to believe-"

"I don't care if you believe it or not," Ms. Schnee interrupted, her ice-blue eyes unflinching. She met Glynda's gaze with the look of someone who refused to bow or bend, "What matters is that we have information that can prevent thousands of deaths and the fall of Beacon Academy."

"If what you're saying is true," Ironwood said, his military mind clearly running through scenarios, "Then you should be able to provide details that would be impossible for you to know otherwise."

"The vault beneath Beacon contains an Aura transfer machine," Ms. Schnee said without hesitation, "It was designed to transfer the Maiden powers in an emergency situation. Amber is currently in a life support pod down there, breathing but unresponsive, with half her power stolen. And her time is running out."

Mr. Arc nodded, "You've got the Relic of Choice hidden down there too. Behind a door that can only be opened by the Fall Maiden." He gestured to the cane in Ozpin's hand, "That thing doesn't just help you walk. It's way more important than that. Thing's got enough juice to wreck Beacon." His grip on the cane tightened, "We also know that every time you die, you reincarnate into someone closest to you in personality. And we know you hate it." Mr. Arc looked at him with a profound sense of pity.

Ozpin felt a chill run down his spine. The casual way these students - these children - spoke of his most closely guarded secrets was deeply unsettling. More unsettling still was the implication that somehow, in this future they claimed to come from, these secrets had become known, "Leonardo," he said softly, "You mentioned Leonardo Lionheart."

Ms. Schnee's expression darkened, "He's working with Salem. Has been for some time. Fear got to him. He's been feeding her information about Huntsmen, about the Maidens, about your operations. Once the CCT went down in our timeline, he used it as a chance to decimate Anima's Huntsmen. The only reason Cinder and her cronies managed to file themselves as transfer students is because he forged their documentation. It's either he's a traitor or he's blisteringly incompetent. And we know for a fact that it's the former."

Qrow cursed under his breath. Ironwood's face hardened into a mask of cold fury. Glynda simply closed her eyes, the pain of betrayal evident in the tight line of her mouth, "Leo wouldn't..." Ozpin began, but the certainty in Ms. Schnee's eyes made the words die in his throat.

The notion - time travel - seemed preposterous...and then he remembered his own situation. An immortal soul forced to unwillingly steal bodies locked in an eternal war with the woman he once loved, "I suppose you don't mind if we ask how exactly you two went back in time?" Glynda asked, voice still laced with skepticism.

"We don't know." Ms. Schnee shrugged, somehow managing to make the gesture look elegant, "We'd just finished signing the divorce papers when we were attacked by a nascent version of the Neo White Fang. Because even after saving the world, terrorists still exist." She rubbed her temples.

"Divorce? Do you mean you two were-"

"We're not here to talk about that." Ms. Schnee's lips pursed.

"Yeah, what she said." Mr. Arc nodded

"Perhaps," Ozpin said carefully, "We should hear them out."

"Oz, you can't seriously-" Qrow started.

"I've seen enough impossible things in my lifetime to know better than to dismiss something simply because it seems implausible," Ozpin cut him off, then turned to James, "James, I understand your skepticism, but I think we should at least listen to what they have to say."

James looked like he wanted to argue, but instead gave a curt nod, "For now.".

"Oh, thank the Brothers," Mr. Arc sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Like, I get it, time travel sounds crazy, but after everything we've seen, is it really that much of a stretch?"

Weiss elbowed him sharply, "Focus, Jaune."

"Right, sorry," he straightened up, "Look, the point is, we can save Amber. We can stop Cinder, prevent the Fall of Beacon, save Pyrrha and Penny and all the others who died. We can change everything."

"The Aura transfer machine," Ms. Schnee said, her tone businesslike, "It can be used to transfer the half of the Fall Maiden's power that Cinder stole back to its original owner. That would heal Amber and keep the Relic safe. And save a woman who's done nothing to deserve her horrid fate."

Ozpin steepled his fingers, studying the two students - if they could still be called that - before him. There was something in their eyes. A weariness. A hardness. The eyes of people who had seen war, who had lost too much. Not the eyes of first-year students at a combat academy.

"If what you're saying is true," he said slowly, "Then we have much to discuss."

"You have no idea," Mr. Arc laughed humorlessly.

Ms. Schnee nodded, her expression grave, "We've already dealt with Roman Torchwick and Adam Taurus, the latter permanently." She said that with the ease of an experienced Huntress, "The White Fang operation in Mountain Glenn has been neutralized. That leaves Cinder's team," She gestured to the unconscious captives, "And preparing for what comes next."

"And what, exactly, comes next?" Glynda asked, her voice sharp.

Ms. Schnee and Mr. Arc exchanged a look - a look loaded with history and shared pain that Ozpin couldn't begin to decipher, "That," Ms. Schnee said, turning back to face them, "Is a much longer conversation."

Ozpin nodded, taking another sip from his mug as he contemplated the extraordinary tale unfolding before him. In all his many lifetimes, he had never encountered anything quite like this. Yet something in him - perhaps the countless years of experience, perhaps simple intuition - told him that these two were telling the truth. And if they were... if they truly had come back to prevent a catastrophe... then perhaps, for the first time in centuries, he dared to feel something dangerously close to hope.

He sat silently as Ms. Schnee and Mr. Arc continued their extraordinary briefing, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. The familiar weight of his cane rested against his desk, a constant reminder of the burden he carried - a burden that somehow felt both heavier and lighter with each revelation these unusual students shared. The clock mechanisms above his office ticked endlessly, marking the passage of time. Time that, according to these two, they had already lived through once before.

"There's something else we need to address," Ms. Schnee said, her tone crisp and businesslike. Her posture remained perfect despite the time they'd been speaking, not a single white hair out of place. So different from the somewhat prideful but (seemingly) spoiled and naive young woman he'd admitted to Beacon mere months ago, "Raven Branwen is the Spring Maiden."

The room went still. Qrow pushed himself off the wall, his expression darkening. Ozpin observed the way his right hand instinctively twitched toward his flask before curling into a fist instead. Even after all these years, the mention of his sister still provoked such a visceral reaction, "Bullshit," Qrow said flatly, his voice raspy with tension, "The Spring Maiden's - "

"Dead?" Ms. Schnee arched a perfect eyebrow, cutting him off with practiced efficiency, "Yes, she is. Because your sister murdered her about a decade ago and took her powers. She's been using those abilities to ravage the Anima countryside ever since. We can't leave that kind of power in her hands, both for practical and moral reasons."

Ozpin took a slow breath, absorbing this new information with the practiced calm of someone who had received world-shattering news countless times before. If it was true (and he was finding it increasingly difficult to doubt their claims), this represented a catastrophic failure for his information network. How had Raven managed to acquire such power without their knowledge? And worse, how had she concealed it for so long while apparently using it openly?

Glynda stepped forward, her riding crop tapping against her palm in that unconscious gesture she made when processing difficult information. The slight furrow between her brows betrayed her concern far more than her controlled voice, "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"Simple enough," Mr. Arc shrugged, leaning back in his chair with a casualness that belied the gravity of his words. He slouched slightly, one arm draped over the back of his seat. Where Ms. Schnee was all precision and formality, he carried himself with the relaxed confidence of a veteran Huntsman who had seen too much to stand on ceremony, "Either we catch or kill her."

Qrow's expression transformed, a complex mixture of emotions flashing across his weathered features. Anger, denial, and beneath it all, a flicker of pain that he couldn't quite mask. His shoulders tensed, and Ozpin noted the white-knuckled grip he now had on the edge of his cape. Not out of love for his sister, Ozpin knew - their relationship had fractured beyond repair years ago when he abandoned Taiyang and their daughter - but from that stubborn sense of familial loyalty that had always complicated the man's feelings toward his sister.

He'd witnessed this conflict play out in Qrow countless times over the years. The man despised what his sister had become, and yet could never quite bring himself to abandon the hope that somewhere inside the ruthless bandit leader remained the fierce, loyal teammate - the sister - he'd once known. It was a hope Ozpin understood all too well. After all, hadn't he spent millennia nurturing the same desperate belief about Salem? That some part of that adventuerous young woman remained under the hatred and corruption?

Ms. Schnee continued, either not noticing or deliberately ignoring Qrow's reaction, "Her tribe of bandits moves around Anima, but tracking her with the SDC's resources shouldn't be impossible. That and finding strange weather patterns because Raven Branwen, for all her claims to intelligence, can't help but show off her stolen power." There was a coldness to her tone when she spoke of Raven. The dispassionate assessment of someone discussing a target rather than a person. James had used that same tone countless times.

"We'll need to plan this through," Mr. Arc said, sitting up straighter, his blue eyes suddenly sharp with tactical focus, "Even if we glass her camp, she could use her Semblance to escape. So we need to put Yang, Taiyang, and Qrow into reinforced cells that can keep her contained. So if she tries to run, she'll just end up trapping herself. General Ironwood has facilities like that." He nodded toward James, who remained stone-faced, though Ozpin could see the slight tightening around his eyes that indicated he was already mentally reviewing available resources.

"We could use some additional help as well," Ms. Schned said, "General Ironwood, is Marrow Amin already part of the Ace-Ops and unlocked his Semblance?"

"Marrow Amin? No. He's a Specialist like Winter, but not part of the the Ace-Ops." The reminder of her sister made the young(?) woman's eyes soften marginally, "But yes, he has unlocked his Semblance. Freeze, he calls it. It allows him to-"

"Paralyze opponents, even entire groups. Yes, I've been on the receiving end of it." James' brows furrowed at that, which Ms. Schnee caught, "We all made poor choices in our 'past', General. I'm hoping it won't come to that. Anyway, Marrow's Semblance will be very helpful if he helps us. We'll still need to put Yang, Taiyang, and Qrow in the cells, but perhaps with his Stay, we can keep her from escaping altogether. It would simplify things."

"After we beat her, we can either put her through the Aura transfer machine or kill her while putting the next host in front of her to force her on who to think about last," Mr. Arc finished.

The clinical detachment with which they discussed murder was chilling. These were children - at least in body - speaking of assassination with the easy pragmatism of hardened operatives. What horrors had they endured to reach this point? Ozpin felt a deep sadness well up inside him, another failure to add to his countless regrets. In their original timeline, he had clearly failed to protect these students from becoming as callous about life and death as he himself had been forced to become.

"That's my sister you're talking about," Qrow finally spoke up, his voice low and dangerous. His crimson eyes narrowed, a muscle working in his jaw as he fought to maintain his composure. Despite everything Raven had done, everything she had become, Ozpin could see that part of Qrow still held onto the memory of the fierce young woman who had once had his back in countless battles. Blood was thicker than water, after all.

Ms. Schnee fixed him with an unimpressed stare, her cold eyes unwavering, "Your sister has spent the past two decades raiding and slaving her way across Anima. The blood on her hands numbers in the thousands. By any and all metrics, she's a mass murdering monster." Her voice was cold and sharp enough to cut, "Are you really going to defend her?"

Qrow winced, unable to muster a counterargument to what they all knew was true. His shoulders sagged slightly, and Ozpin watched as his hand finally moved to his flask, drawing it out with practiced ease. The gesture spoke volumes; this was a pain he couldn't face sober. Qrow took a long swig, his throat working as he swallowed, before tucking the flask away without meeting anyone's eyes. Ozpin couldn't judge him for it.

"The fact that you haven't dealt with Raven before this is fucked," Mr. Arc said bluntly, looking between Ozpin and Qrow with undisguised judgment in his gaze. The crude language seemed deliberately chosen to provoke, to cut through the careful diplomacy that typically characterized these meetings, "You trained her to be a Huntress and she used those skills to murder innocent people. Settlements just like mine. Yeah, Salem was more important, but did you really not have the time at all? You had twent years. Was every second of that spent on Salem?"

Each word landed like a physical blow. Ozpin felt the truth of the accusation keenly. How many times had he chosen to focus exclusively on Salem, allowing other evils to flourish unchecked? How many Maidens had been lost, how many lives ruined, because he had convinced himself and others that there was only one threat truly worth addressing?

Mr. Arc shook his head, his expression hardening, "Either way, we're going to fix this. Raven's going down, and if you don't want to help, fine, but this is happening either way."

Qrow's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his internal conflict written plainly across his face for anyone who knew how to read it. Loyalty to the mission warring with loyalty to blood. Principles against family ties. The rational knowledge of what Raven had become against the irrational hope of what she might still be. Ozpin had seen this battle play out in the man's eyes countless times before, but never with such raw intensity.

Ozpin considered their words carefully. He had always tried to believe the best of people, to offer second chances - a philosophy born from his own desperate need for redemption. But perhaps, in Raven's case, that philosophy had led to inaction where action was needed. How many innocents had suffered because he'd held out hope for a woman who had clearly chosen her path? How many times had he allowed sentiment to cloud judgment?

The heavy silence that followed was broken only by the eternal ticking of the clock gears turning above them, a mechanical heartbeat counting down the moments of yet another lifetime in his endless existence, "What of Ms. Fall's team?" Glynda asked at last, "What should be done with them?"

Jaune and Weiss shared a look - one of those loaded glances that spoke volumes about their shared history. Ozpin had seen such looks before, between partners who had fought back-to-back for years, between lovers who knew each other's thoughts without words, between people who had witnessed horrors together that no one else could understand. It was jarring to see such communication between students who, by all appearances, should barely know each other.

"You can either imprison or execute them," Ms. Schnee said matter-of-factly, as if discussing nothing more consequential than dining options, "It doesn't really matter. They're all murderers who planned to commit genocide on Vale." Her voice softened slightly, a barely perceptible change that Ozpin might have missed if he hadn't been studying her so carefully, "Emerald helped us once she found out Salem's plans to destroy Remnant, but then she left us in Vacuo, so neither of us feel too sympathetic. Given that we captured Cinder early, Emerald wouldn't have the catalyst to question her loyalty."

The clinical detachment in her voice was all to too familiar. These two spoke of life and death with the callousness of war veterans, not students. He'd seen it in dozens of Huntsmen across the generations.

Ms. Schnee and Mr. Arc stood up, brushing off their uniforms in a synchronized motion that spoke of years of familiarity. They moved in tandem, anticipating each other's movements with an ease that belied their apparent youth, "We can talk about the rest tomorrow," Mr. Arc said, stifling a yawn, "It's been a long day, capturing terrorists and all." The casual way he referenced their extraordinary accomplishments - as if subduing Salem's agents was nothing more remarkable than completing a homework assignment - only underscored how profoundly different these "students" were from their peers.

Ozpin set his empty mug down on his desk, the soft clink of ceramic against glass momentarily drawing everyone's attention. One question burned in his mind - had plagued him through countless lifetimes, through endless cycles of hope and despair, through the rise and fall of civilizations, "Before you go," he said, unable to keep a slight tremor from his voice, "I must ask: in your time, was Salem defeated?"

The question hung in the air, pregnant with the weight of millennia of struggle, of countless sacrifices, of lives spent in what had often seemed a hopeless cause. Glynda and James went perfectly still, while Qrow's attention snapped fully to the two students, his personal turmoil temporarily forgotten in the face of this all-consuming question.

The two shared another of those meaningful looks before Ms. Schnee nodded, "Yes," she said simply, the word falling like a stone into still water, "She was. Sealed in stone forever with Ruby's Silver Eyes."

The atmosphere in the room shifted palpably. A mix of disbelief and, for the first time in centuries, genuine hope. Glynda's hand rose unconsciously to her mouth, emerald eyes widening behind her glasses. James stood straighter, his military bearing almost faltering in his shock, the fist of his mechanical hand opening and closing as if trying to physically grasp this new reality. Qrow's eyes widened, his perpetual cynicism momentarily giving way to wonder, the flask in his hand forgotten.

Ozpin felt something stir within him; something he had almost forgotten how to feel. Not the cautious, qualified hope that had sustained him through his many lives, but something deeper, more primal. The visceral relief of a drowning man breaking the surface, gulping air after an eternity underwater. The liberation of a prisoner seeing sunlight after decades in darkness. The end - an actual, achievable end - to his eternal punishment.

"The cost was still too much," Ms. Schnee continued, her voice softening with regret. A shadow passed across her young face, too deep and profound for someone her age, "Millions dead and the people needing to pick up the pieces afterwards." She looked directly at Ozpin, and in that moment, he saw a reflection of his own ancient weariness in her too-young eyes, "We're hoping to reach a happier ending this time."

Ozpin nodded, unable to find words adequate to respond to such a revelation. After thousands of years, countless lives, and immeasurable suffering, to hear that his eternal conflict with Salem could end - had ended, in some future timeline - was almost too much to comprehend. He had long since abandoned hope of living to see Salem's defeat. His goal had merely been to advance the cause incrementally, to leave the world marginally better prepared for each successive incarnation of himself.

The idea that he might actually witness the end of this ancient conflict, might live to see peace restored to a world long haunted by her shadow... it was overwhelming.

As the two students left his office, Ozpin turned to the window, gazing out at Beacon's grounds bathed in moonlight while Qrow and Glynda dealt with the team of spies. The school stood peaceful and intact, students sleeping safely in their beds, unaware of the dangers that had nearly befallen them. Dangers now potentially averted by the extraordinary intervention of two time travelers. Time travelers... the words almost made him laugh. Pure fantasy even to someone who'd seen and done things no man should have.

For the first time in more lifetimes than he could count, Ozpin allowed himself to genuinely believe that perhaps, this time, things might be different. That perhaps, the cycle of destruction and rebirth that had defined his existence might finally come to an end. And all it had taken was two bickering students with knowledge they shouldn't possess and an outlandish story about time travel.

The universe, it seemed, still had surprises even for someone who had lived as long as he had.

[line break]

Done. For people hoping for Emerald/Neo/Raven to be redeemed, you're going to be disappointed. Jaune and Weiss have no patience for mass murderers and psychopaths. Their job is to stop the deaths of their friends and innocent people, not play kid gloves with bad guys.

Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 5

Next Maid Jaune chapter focus on Ruby. No smut for this one. Just Jaune hanging out with his super bestie better than the restie with no weirdness at all.

[line break]

Weeks blurred together in a flurry of bookings, outfits, and increasingly unhinged client requests. Jaune had established himself as Vale's premier crossdressing maid-escort (cause that sounded way more dignified than maid-hooker), and business was, quite frankly, booming.

Yang had eventually paid up (after he'd sent her a formal notice of legal action on Beacon letterhead he'd 'borrowed' from Goodwitch's office). She'd stomped up to him in the cafeteria, slammed down a stack of lien cards, and muttered something about him being "no fun anymore" before skulking away. The ban remained in effect, not that it mattered. His schedule was so full-up that he wouldn't have been able to pencil her in even if he wanted to.

Pyrrha continued her stress relief sessions with him, though Jaune steadfastly refused to classify these encounters as the same thing he did with paying clients. That was different. He was helping his partner! When she clutched his shoulders and begged him to "punish her for being a bad girl", that was just... teamwork. Totally normal partner stuff. Being a champion tournament fighter and celebrity must've been really stressful.

Weiss, meanwhile, had taken to glaring at him from across classrooms, her icy stare following him as he checked his rapidly filling schedule on his brand-new custom scroll. Sometimes, when he was feeling particularly petty, he'd flash the device at her just to watch her eye twitch. Mean? Maybe. But she made him put on fake cat ears (Blake would've had a field day with that), a collar, and kiss her feet while throwing slurs at him. Like, old Atlesian slurs. He wasn't even a Faunus and he felt offended.

It was, all things considered, a remarkably profitable time to be Jaune Arc.

What continued to baffle him, however, was the sheer demand. He'd assumed the novelty would wear off, that his clientele would gradually dwindle as people got their weird maid fetishes out of their systems. But instead, his inbox was constantly flooded with requests. Somehow - and he genuinely couldn't wrap his head around it - the knowledge that a male Beacon student was offering "premium maid services" had spread like wildfire through Vale's upper social circles. His website traffic had tripled. He'd had to upgrade his scroll plan just to handle the booking notifications.

His rates climbed higher with each passing week in an attempt to stem the side, and still they came (in more ways than one). People were willing to pay out of the ass to get fucked by a guy in a maid outfit., "It's creepy," he muttered to himself one evening as he sorted through a new batch of inquiries, "Why are so many women into this?"

The most disturbing part was how many of them had family-related fantasies. After Weiss and Yang, he'd updated his website with a new policy: NO FAMILY ROLEPLAY. It resulted in a flood of messages asking for "exceptions" and offering to pay double. He'd deleted them all immediately and doubled down on the policy. MAYBE he'd make exceptions at some point, but that was something he'd consider down the line. Right now, his sanity was more important.

His standards were evolving. His rates were too.

By the time Halloween rolled around - which also happened to be Ruby's 18th birthday - Jaune had enough lien to buy a small house in Vale outright, if he'd wanted to. Instead, he'd invested most of it, upgraded his gear (premium Atlesian steel for Crocea Mors and custom lightweight armor), and was considering taking a vacation to Vacuo during winter break. Somewhere warm, far away, and where nobody knew what a "Juliette" was. Pyrrha had invited him to her hometown of Argus.

She was a good friend.

Yang, as expected, had gone all out for her sister's birthday. After the school's official Halloween celebration wound down, she reserved one of the study rooms for a private party. Just Teams RWBY and JNPR, some punch (which Nora had almost certainly spiked), a mountain of cookies, and a cake shaped like Crescent Rose.

Jaune arrived dressed as a pirate - complete with an eyepatch, a fake parrot on his shoulder, and a surprisingly realistic cutlass that no one looked twice at considering it was the most normal looking weapon on campus, "No, Nora," he'd said firmly when she'd greeted him at the door with a too-innocent smile and a garment bag in her arms, "I am not wearing the maid outfit to Ruby's birthday."

"Oh, come on!" Nora had whined, shaking the bag temptingly, "It's a costume party!"

"It's a Halloween party that happens to be on Ruby's birthday," Jaune said, "And I'm already in costume. See?" He gestured to his pirate getup, "Yarr."

Nora had pouted but relented, though not before giving him a knowing look, "You're no fun anymore, rich boy."

The room buzzed with the comfortable chatter of his friends. Blake had come dressed as a ninja (though it was suspiciously similar to her everyday outfit), Weiss was some kind of elegant ice queen (again, debatably just her normal self with a tiara), Pyrrha was an old Mistralian goddess (a bit on the nose, but she pulled it off), and Yang was... well, Yang was dressed as a firefighter in a costume that definitely violated several of Beacon's dress code regulations.

Now, several hours into the party, Jaune was nursing a cup of punch by the window, watching with mild amusement as Nora (dressed as a viking) tried to convince Ren that his "monk" costume wasn't a costume at all but just his regular clothes with a different colored headband. She was probably just mad that he didn't go shirtless like the monks she expected.

He was debating whether to call it a night when a blur of red and black bounced up to him, silver eyes shining beneath a set of plastic vampire fangs, "Jaune!" Ruby lisped around her fake teeth, her cape swishing dramatically as she spun to face him, "Howsh the party? Having fun?" Jaune grinned despite himself. Ruby's costume was, like most things about her, adorably earnest - a frilly gothic dress with a high collar, a red-lined black cape, and those ridiculous lien-store fangs that were clearly too big for her mouth. She'd even painted a trail of fake blood from the corner of her lips down her chin.

"It's great, Ruby," he said, raising his cup in salute, "Happy birthday. Sorry I didn't bring a gift. I've been, uh...busy." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Between juggling clients, keeping up with schoolwork, training, and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, he'd completely forgotten to shop for her.

Ruby waved a hand dismissively, "S'okay! Yang got me enough stuff for, like, three birthdays." She gestured toward a pile of presents on a nearby table, most wrapped in yellow paper with little fireball designs. Say what you will about Yang Xiao Long - cheapskate, weirdo with mommy issues - but she was doting to her sister, "Besides, you can totally make it up to me!"

Jaune couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, "Sure thing. Name it, and it's yours. I can afford pretty much anything these days." He couldn't resist a small boast. He'd worked hard for that lien, even if the specifics of how he'd earned it were...unconventional. The money (and stuff) spoke for itself.

Ruby's silver eyes widened, and she practically vibrated with excitement, "Anything?"

"Within reason," Jaune clarified quickly, memories of previous "anything" requests flashing through his mind, "I'm not buying you a new dust-infused scythe blade. I've seen how much those cost." Mostly because most sane people didn't use scythes, so you had to get it custom ordered.

"No, no, it's not that," Ruby assured him, fidgeting with the edge of her cape. She glanced around the room, then leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "I want to hire you."

Jaune blinked, his cup frozen halfway to his lips, "I'm sorry, what?"

Ruby bounced on her heels, her fangs bobbing precariously, "I want to hire you! You know, for your...services." She waggled her eyebrows in what he assumed was meant to be a suggestive manner but looked more like she was having a mild seizure. Ruby Rose was a lot of things. Loyal, friendly, sweet, and one of the best fighters in their year. But one thing she wasn't was smooth. It was one reason they were friends. Even now, months after his side-job, he wouldn't exactly call himself a charmer. The maid outfit did a LOT of the heavy lifting.

Jaune stared at her, his brain momentarily blue-screening. Ruby Rose, beacon of innocence and weapons enthusiast, wanted to hire him. For that. The same Ruby who once spent an entire afternoon explaining why cookies were a perfectly acceptable breakfast food. The same Ruby who still collected limited edition Gun Tales figurines.

"Ruby," he started carefully, "Do you...understand what I do?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, "Duh! Everyone knows! Even the profs." She flipped her cape dramatically, "I want you to meet me in Vale this weekend." Her voice dropped to a whisper, "And wear the maid outfit."

Jaune shuffled his feet, suddenly finding the punch in his cup utterly fascinating, "I don't think that's a good idea, Ruby."

Ruby's face fell, her silver eyes widening in the puppy-dog look that had probably gotten her out of trouble her entire life, "But you said anything!" she protested, her lower lip pushing out in a pout, "You wouldn't lie to your bestie, would you?" Jaune felt himself weakening under her pleading gaze. His rational mind was screaming about professional boundaries, about how this was crossing a line he'd promised himself he wouldn't cross. Ruby was his friend. A good friend. The first real friend he'd made at Beacon.

But those damn silver eyes...

"Fine," he sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, "This weekend. But we're talking about this first, okay? Making sure we're on the same page about expectations and...stuff."

Ruby's face lit up, and she bounced with such enthusiasm that one of her plastic fangs popped out and clattered to the floor, "Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She threw her arms around him in a quick hug before darting away, probably to get the fallen tooth. Jaune watched her go with a growing sense of dread pooling in his stomach. What had he just agreed to? And more importantly, why was his life spiraling into increasingly absurd scenarios involving his friends and a maid outfit?

"I need better boundaries," he muttered into his punch, "And possibly a career counselor."

Across the room, he caught Yang giving him a suspicious look. Jaune raised his cup in mock salute, then quickly turned away. The last thing he needed was Yang thinking he was corrupting her sister - the same sister who had just hired him for what was undoubtedly going to be the most awkward session of his increasingly bizarre career. Nevermind that Yang had asked him to dress up like her not-Mom. Older siblings could be hypocrites like that.

He drained his punch, grimacing at the burn of whatever Nora had slipped into it.

The weekend was going to be interesting.

[line break]

Saturday arrived with the cruel inevitability of a Goodwitch combat assessment. He stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the frilly headband that had become his signature accessory, and wondered how exactly his life had led to this moment, "Professional," he reminded his reflection, which looked back at him with equal parts resignation and despair, "You're a professional." It wasn't like he was AGAINST screwing women for money - most days it was actually enjoyable - but his friends made it...weird. It was one thing to fuck strangers who only knew him as Juliette. It was another to do it to someone he'd have to sit across the cafateria the next day.

The maid outfit was immaculate, as always. He'd invested in higher quality material since his early days: premium Atlesian silk for the apron, breathable fabric for the dress itself, and stockings that didn't pinch his thighs after an hour of wear (his old boss was a cheapskate). If he was going to be a professional maid-for-hire, he might as well be comfortable. He'd even gotten custom heels made that supported his arches properly. He wasn't just a maid; he was a high class one.

The things he spent money on these days...

Almost an hour later, Jaune stood outside Vale Comics, the city's premier comic book store, silently questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. He tugged self-consciously at the hem of his maid outfit, the crisp black fabric and white frills drawing more attention than he'd anticipated. The heels made him tower over the average passerby, transforming him from "tall guy" to "conspicuously tall maid" in an instant. Every click against the pavement felt like it announced his presence to the entire street.

I'm a professional, he reminded himself, straightening his posture and adjusting the frilly headband perched on his blonde locks. This is just another job.

Except it wasn't. This was Ruby. Ruby Rose. The girl who got excited about weapon modifications and snorted milk through her nose when Yang told bad puns. The same girl who had somehow decided that hiring Vale's most sought-after crossdressing maid-escort was an appropriate birthday gift to herself.

A whistle cut through his thoughts, followed by a distinctly feminine voice, "Looking good, sweetie! Those legs go all the way up, don't they?" Jaune stiffened, his cheeks burning as he pointedly stared at the store window, refusing to acknowledge the woman who'd called out to him. The catcalls had started as soon as he stopped by the store. And the strangest part? Most of them were coming from women.

"Hey honey, need help dusting any high shelves? I've got something that could use a good polish!" Jaune's eye twitched. That one came from a middle-aged woman in a business suit, who was now giggling with her friends like they were teenagers instead of professional adults. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on a display of X-Ray and Vav comics, silently wishing he could disappear into the pages. He made a mental note to spoil himself for today.

"Work it, girl! Whoever hired you has excellent taste!"

"Can I get your number? My apartment's a disaster!"

"Are those real stockings? I'm digging the commitment!"

The comments kept coming, each one more mortifying than the last. Jaune couldn't decide what was worse. The fact that he was being openly objectified on a public street, or the fact that most of these women seemed to have no idea he was a guy. Had he really gotten that good at this? Was his crossdressing so convincing that an entire demographic of Vale citizens couldn't tell the difference? The thought was simultaneously depressing and oddly validating. At least he was good at something, even if that something was looking distressingly convincing in thigh-high stockings and a frilly apron.

A passing group of college-aged women slowed down as they approached, their eyes traveling up and down his form with unabashed interest, "Excuse me," one of them called out, a tall brunette with glasses, "Are you with one of those maid services? Because my roommate's birthday is coming up and-"

"I'm waiting for someone," Jaune cut her off, his voice pitched higher in his 'Juliette' persona. He'd learned early on that using his normal voice while in costume just confused people. Or turned them on even more. Usually both.

The woman looked momentarily disappointed before her expression brightened, "Well, if that doesn't work out..." She pulled out a business card and tucked it into his apron pocket with a wink, "Call me. We'd love to book you."

Her friends giggled as they continued down the street, leaving Jaune to stare after them in bewilderment. Was there some kind of cultural shift he'd missed? When had maids become Vale's hottest commodity? And why were so many women suddenly interested in hiring them?

A loud wolf whistle from across the street made him turn, only to see an elderly woman with a skull cane and bright blue prosthetic glasses giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up, "Work it, honey! These young'uns don't appreciate the classics!"

Jaune groaned, checking his scroll for the fifteenth time. Ruby was late. Fifteen minutes late, to be precise. He was starting to wonder if this was some elaborate prank. Maybe Yang had put her up to this as revenge for the ban (in which case, lifetime ban, Xiao Long!). Maybe the whole thing was a setup to humiliate him, to get back at him for his newfound success.

A group of women leaving a nearby cafe spotted him, and one of them elbowed her friends, pointing in his direction, "Oh my gods, that's him! That's Juliette!" Jaune froze as the women approached, recognition gleaming in their eyes. This was new. And concerning, "It really is you!" the same woman squealed, pulling out her scroll to snap a photo, "I've been trying to book an appointment for weeks, but you're always full up!"

"My sister hired you for her bachelorette party," another one chimed in, "She said it was the best three hours of her life."

Jaune blinked rapidly, "Uh, thank you?" He didn't recall any bachelorette parties, but he supposed his client list had grown extensive enough that some details might blur together. Sex still felt great, of course, but the sheer amount of clients he had meant that he kinda went through the motions a lot of the time.

"Do you have any openings next month?" another woman asked, already scrolling through her calendar, "My birthday's coming up, and I want to treat myself."

Just as he was contemplating making a tactical retreat, a familiar voice called out, "Jaune! Sorry I'm late!" Ruby was jogging toward him, dressed in her normal combat skirt and corset, her red cape billowing behind her. She looked completely ordinary. No special outfit, no indication that she was meeting someone for... services. She looked like she was there for a casual hangout between friends.

Before Jaune could process, before he could even begin to formulate the many, many questions churning in his mind, Ruby reached him. With the cheerful obliviousness that was so characteristically her, she wrapped her arms around his left one and began tugging him toward the store entrance, "Come on! They just got the new limited edition Grimm Slayer variants, and I want to grab one before they sell out!" She completely ignored the women around him.

Jaune stumbled after her, his heels clicking awkwardly as he was pulled into the comic book store. He was vaguely aware of the jealous stares following them; women on the street shooting daggers at Ruby for commandeering the tall, attractive maid they'd been openly admiring.

As the door swung shut behind them, cutting off the sounds of the street, Jaune couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut. What exactly had he gotten himself into?

The comic book store was surprisingly busy for a Saturday afternoon. Jaune followed Ruby inside, bracing himself for the inevitable stares and whispers. Sure enough, several customers did double-takes, a few scrolls were raised to snap discreet photos, and the clerk behind the counter nearly dropped the stack of comics he was sorting.

But Ruby, bless her heart, didn't seem to notice any of it. She bounced straight to the new releases section, pulling Jaune along by the arm, "Okay, so I've been waiting for the new Red Huntress special edition to come out for months," she said excitedly, flipping through the colorful displays, "They're doing this crossover with Captain Atlas where they fight the Vacuo Viper, and I heard they might introduce a new female character who could potentially be RH's long-lost sister!"

Jaune blinked, waiting for the other shoe to drop, "That's... why you hired me? To discuss comic books?"

Ruby looked up at him with genuine confusion, "Well, yeah! Yang never wants to talk about comics with me. She just pretends to listen while playing games on her scroll." She pointed to a particularly vibrant cover featuring a heroine in weirdly familiar armor, "What do you think of the new art style? They switched artists after issue #47, and I'm not sure how I feel about X-Ray's new helmet design."

Jaune adjusted his frilly headband, glancing around at the other customers who were trying (and failing) to pretend they weren't staring at the unusual pair – a caped Huntress-in-training and a blonde in a full Vale maid outfit discussing superhero fashion choices with absolute seriousness.

But as the minutes ticked by and Ruby continued chatting enthusiastically about plot developments and character arcs, Jaune found himself oddly... relaxing? There was something almost refreshing about the normalcy of their conversation, despite the absurdity of his attire.

"Wait, so you think the Achieve Men are going to make a cameo?" he asked, genuinely interested now as he flipped through the latest issue, "That would be pretty cool. They could do a musical number during the big fight scene."

"Right?!" Ruby exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement, "And their superpowers could be sound-based! Imagine Mogar using his battle cry to shatter windows!"

An hour flew by as they debated storylines, critiqued costume designs, and stacked up purchases. Ruby insisted on buying him the first volume of a series called "The Dusty Maidens" – a manga about combat maids who fought crime while keeping Vale's mansions spotless, "For research," she'd said with a wink that was probably supposed to be sly but looked more like she had something in her eye.

Not once did she make any suggestive comments. No lingering touches. No uncomfortable propositions. Just... comic books.

"This is actually kind of nice," Jaune said to himself as they exited the store, bags of comics in hand. He'd been so tense about what Ruby might expect from him that he hadn't considered the possibility that she just wanted company.

His relief was short-lived.

"Next stop!" Ruby announced, pointing dramatically down the street, "Clothes shopping!"

Jaune followed her gaze to "Charlotte's Boutique," a distinctly feminine clothing store with mannequins in flowing dresses and glittering accessories displayed in the windows, "Uh, Ruby? That's a women's clothing store."

Ruby nodded enthusiastically, "Yep! Now come on, we're burning daylight!" She grabbed his arm again, tugging him toward the shop.

"Wait, wait, wait," Jaune protested, heels skidding slightly against the pavement, "I'm already in a maid outfit. What more clothing do you want me to try on?"

"All sorts of things! I've got ideas!" Ruby declared, unperturbed by his resistance, "Don't worry about the cost. I've been saving up my mission stipends for months! I can afford it!"

"The cost isn't really the issue here-" Jaune said, but Ruby had already pulled him through the boutique's entrance, triggering a delicate chime that announced their arrival to the shop attendants.

A sharply dressed saleswoman approached them, her professional smile only faltering for a brief moment at the sight of Jaune in his maid attire, "Welcome to Charlotte's Boutique," she greeted smoothly, "How can I assist you today?"

Before Jaune could formulate a response, Ruby jumped in, "We need outfits for my friend Julie here! Lots of them. Different styles. Maybe start with something casual and work our way up to formal wear?" Did she just call him Julie?

"Certainly," the saleswoman replied, eyeing Jaune with an appraising look of someone calculating measurements, "Did you have any particular styles in mind?"

"I was thinking we could start with a nice summer dress? Something with flowers, maybe?" Ruby said , browsing through a nearby rack, "Oh! And definitely some combat skirts like mine. Julie is super active. She's a Huntress-in-training, you know!"

"I'm not really a-"

"And maybe some professional attire?" Ruby continued, undeterred, "Like, business casual? For meetings and stuff?"

The saleswoman nodded, already pulling items from various displays, "We just received our fall collection. There's a lovely blouse and pencil skirt combination that would complement your friend's coloring."

Jaune stood there, bemused, as the two women began assembling an impromptu wardrobe for "Julie." This was... not what he had expected. At all. He was used to his clients having specific outfits in mind. Usually just the one, and typically involving either less fabric or more fetish elements than his standard maid uniform. And that's if they weren't telling him to just hike up his skirt and fuck them like naughty masters (their words, not his)

But Ruby was acting like this was a normal shopping trip with a girlfriend. She held up a pale blue sundress, beaming, "This would look so cute on you! The color really brings out your eyes!"

"Ruby," Jaune whispered urgently, leaning down to her level as the saleswoman wandered off to find more options, "What exactly is happening right now? Why are you doing this?"

Ruby blinked at him, her silver eyes wide with what appeared to be genuine confusion, "What do you mean? We're shopping! It's fun!"

"But why did you hire me for this? I'm not usually paid to... try on sundresses and discuss comic books."

Ruby shifted slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, "Well, I mean, everyone says you charge a lot for your time, and I wanted to hang out with you, and Yang said if I wanted guaranteed time with you I should hire you because you're super busy these days, and-" She took a breath, "Is that not okay? Am I doing it wrong?"

Jaune stared at her, utterly perplexed. The itching feeling at the back of his head intensified. Something was definitely off here, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what. She wasn't being entirely truthful about how she just wanted to hang out with him after weeks of being busy.

"Here we are!" The saleswoman returned, arms laden with garments in various colors and styles, "Let's start with these, shall we? The changing rooms are right this way."

Ruby bounced excitedly, all hesitation gone, "This is going to be so great! Like having a life-sized dress-up doll!" As Jaune was shepherded toward the changing rooms, an armful of feminine clothing clutched against his chest, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his gut. This wasn't normal client behavior – not even close – but it also wasn't... bad? Just deeply, profoundly weird, "Remember to show me each outfit!" Ruby called after him, "I want to see everything!"

Jaune sighed as he closed the changing room door behind him. Somehow, this was simultaneously better and stranger than what he'd been expecting. At least she wasn't asking him to roleplay as her mom, sister, dad, or uncle.

...Yet.

[line break]

The shopping trip ended with Jaune carrying several bags of women's clothing he had absolutely no intention of ever wearing again. Despite his protests, Ruby had insisted on paying for everything. Aa small fortune in sundresses, blouses, and at least three combat skirts in varying colors. She'd brushed off his warnings that he wouldn't wear them. It reminded him of Saphron.

"I'm starving!" Ruby said as they exited the boutique, their arms laden with shopping bags, "Let's get lunch!"

Jaune, still trying to process what was happening, simply nodded and followed her to a nearby cafe with outdoor seating. He was grateful to finally sit down, his heels having done a number on his arches despite their custom design, "Two strawberry milkshakes, please! And two of the deluxe burger combo!," Ruby said cheerfully when the waiter approached. The poor man kept glancing between the caped girl and the blonde in the maid outfit, clearly struggling to decide which of them was weirder.

"Ruby, I can order for myself," Jaune said once the waiter left.

"Nonsense! I hired you, remember?" Ruby's smile was just a bit too bright, her silver eyes twinkling with something Jaune couldn't quite identify, "Besides, everyone likes strawberry milkshakes!"

When their food arrived, Jaune reached for his burger, only to have Ruby swat his hand away.

"Let me," she said, picking up his burger and holding it out toward him, "Open wide!"

Jaune stared at her incredulously, "You want to... feed me?"

"That's what you do with- I mean, yesyepOpen up!" Ruby wiggled the burger enticingly in front of his face. Reluctantly, feeling like he'd stumbled into some bizarre alternate reality, Jaune opened his mouth. Ruby immediately shoved the burger forward with more enthusiasm than precision, causing ketchup to smear across his cheek, "Sorry!" she chirped, not sounding sorry at all as she dabbed at his face with a napkin, "Just like feeding a- I mean, there we go! All better!"

"Ruby," Jaune said slowly, wiping his face with his own napkin, "What exactly is happening right now?"

Before she could answer, a young man from a nearby table approached, eyeing Jaune with unmistakable interest. He was handsome in a generic sort of way with a face and hairstyle that reminded Jaune of someone who was cast as an extra for the popular clique.

"Hey there," the newcomer said, leaning against their table with practiced casualness, "That's a really cute outfit. I like a woman who's confident enough to express herself."

Before Jaune could respond (with what, he wasn't entirely sure), Ruby's hand shot to her side where Crescent Rose would normally be. Finding it absent (restuarants didn't exactly like customers coming in with deadly weapons), she grabbed a butter knife instead, brandishing it with alarming enthusiasm, "Back off, buddy!" she said, her voice dropping to a growl that sounded like a child trying to impersonate Yang, "Can't you see we're having quality time here?"

The man backed away, hands raised defensively, "Whoa, sorry! Didn't realize you two were... a thing."

"We're not-" Jaune started.

"That's right, scram!" Ruby called after him, still waving the butter knife menacingly. Once he was safely out of earshot, she turned back to Jaune with an abrupt shift in demeanor, "You have to be careful who you talk to," she said, her voice suddenly dropping to what she clearly thought was a mature, worldly tone, "There are many predators out there looking to take advantage of innocent young ma- people like yourself."

Jaune's eyebrows shot up, "I think I can handle myself, Ruby."

"Oh, of course you can, sweetie," Ruby said, patting his hand condescendingly. Did she just call him sweetie? That sounded so... wrong coming from her, "But the world is full of dangers that someone as..." she paused, searching for the word, "...pure as you might not recognize."

"Pure?" Jaune repeated, choking slightly on his milkshake, "Ruby, I literally sleep with people for money."

Ruby's cheeks flushed red, but she plowed ahead with the same determination she used when killing Grimm, "Well, yes, but that doesn't mean you understand the complex emotional dynamics of adult relationships," she said, sounding like she was reciting something memorized, "It's my responsibility to protect you from those who might exploit your... naivete."

Jaune nearly spit out his drink, "My what? Ruby, I'm two years older than you!"

"Age is just a number," Ruby replied with the all-knowing nod of someone quoting a fortune cookie, "Maturity is what matters. Now, eat your burger before it gets cold. You need your strength."

The rest of lunch continued on that same bizarre track with Ruby alternating between feeding him like a toddler and dispensing worldly "wisdom" in a voice at least an octave lower than her natural tone. Every time Jaune tried to speak, she would cut him off with another patronizing comment or an offer of more food. Jaune was torn between feeling confused and offended. Not something he wanted to feel when thinking about Ruby, of all people.

By the time they left the cafe, Jaune was thoroughly bewildered. This wasn't just strange; it was Ruby acting like she'd learned about adult behavior exclusively from bad sitcoms.

Their final stop was the park where Ruby insisted they sit on a bench overlooking the duck pond. The afternoon sun was pleasant, at least, and Jaune was grateful for the chance to rest his feet again.

"So," Ruby said, turning to face him with an expectant smile, "Did you enjoy your day?"

Jaune considered the question. Despite the utter strangeness of it all, he hadn't actually had a terrible time. Weird? Absolutely. But there was something almost endearing about Ruby's enthusiasm, even if he still had no idea what was really going on. And she wasn't making him do any weird family roleplay crap, so that was a plus.

"Yeah, actually," he said, "It was... different."

Ruby nodded, her smile softening, "I'm so glad. I've been worried about you, you know."

"Worried about me? Why?"

"This big, bad world," Ruby said, gesturing vaguely around them, "All these people trying to get a piece of you. Men, women; they all just want to use you for your body!" Jaune blinked at the shift in her tone. Where exactly was this going? Ruby cleared her throat, her expression turning serious, "Julie, I think it's time we had... a talk."

"A talk...?"

"Yes. About..." She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper, "The birds and the bees." Jaune stared at her blankly, waiting for the punchline. None came, "You see," Ruby continued, her face flushed but determined, "When two people care about each other very much, one of them might want to... load their ammo into the other's chamber."

"Ruby-"

"It's like with Crescent Rose," she pressed on, apparently committed to this insanity, "First, you have to make sure the barrel is clean and properly oiled. Then, you insert the magazine firmly but gently. You don't want to jam it or force it, or you might damage the mechanism."

"Ruby, seriously-"

"And sometimes," she continued, her voice rising slightly in pitch despite her attempt to sound mature, "You might want to fire multiple rounds in quick succession, but you have to be careful not to overheat the-"

"I KNOW WHAT SEX IS!" Jaune shouted, loud enough to startle a nearby flock of pigeons into flight, "Ruby, I literally get paid for it! It's my literal job! I don't need the... the gun analogy version of 'the talk' from you!"

Several park-goers turned to stare at them. Jaune felt his face burning with embarrassment, "Why are you acting so weird today?!" he said, lowering his voice to a hiss, "The feeding, the shopping, the... whatever this is? What's going on?!"

Ruby played with the hem of her cape, suddenly looking much younger than her eighteen years, "I don't know what you mean," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"Yes, you do. This whole day has been bizarre. You hired me, which made me think you wanted..." He gestured vaguely, "But then you're treating me like I'm five years old while simultaneously trying to act like you're forty? What gives?"

Ruby's shuffled her feet for a few more seconds before she sighed, "Okay, fine!" she said , throwing her hands up, "I just wanted to feel like the big sister for once, okay?! I'm eighteen now, but everyone still treats me like a baby just because I'm a couple years younger! Yang's always looking out for me, Weiss is always correcting me, Blake's always explaining things to me..." She took a deep breath, "I thought maybe if I hired you, I could show what a totally mature adult I am by taking care of someone else for a change!"

Jaune stared at her flatly, "People usually have sex to prove they're adults in movies, you know. I would've honestly preferred if we just did that." It wasn't exactly an offer, but it was close enough that Yang or Weiss would've taken it as one.

Ruby laughed, waving her hand dismissively, "Hah, no way! Sleeping with you would be weird! You're like my first ever guy bestie!"

"And making your guy friend dress up in a maid outfit so you can play big sister isn't weird?"

She considered this for a moment, head tilted thoughtfully, "Not really," she decided, "I mean, you already dress up anyway, right? This way, we both get what we want!" Jaune blinked slowly, processing her logic. Sex with a guy friend? Weird. Having that guy friend dress up as a maid so you could play big sis? Perfectly normal.

Without a word, he stood up from the bench, smoothed down his apron, and began walking away.

"Hey, wait!" Ruby called after him, scrambling to her feet, "The day isn't over yet! I was going to give you your first gun!"

Jaune just kept walking, his heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement as he steadfastly ignored her continued calls. Some things, he decided, were simply beyond explanation. And Ruby Rose's idea of "adult behavior" was definitely one of them. Behind him, Ruby was still shouting something about proper trigger discipline, but Jaune had already mentally checked out. He'd have to update his website again.

NO FAMILY ROLEPLAY. NO SISTER-FOR-A-DAY SCENARIOS.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time to start charging his friends double. A friend and family spitecount.

[line break]

The walk back to Beacon was a blur. Jaune had ditched the heels halfway through, carrying them in one hand while padding along in his stockinged feet. The stone path was cool beneath his soles, a small mercy after the day he'd endured.

Somewhere between the park and the airship station, he realized he'd left all those shopping bags - hundreds of lien worth of clothing he'd never wear - sitting abandoned on the park bench. The thought flickered through his mind for approximately two seconds before dissolving into complete apathy. Let Ruby keep her "big sister" souvenirs. He was done. If someone wanted to steal a bunch of women's clothing sized for a 6'1 guy with broad shoulders, they were welcome to it.

The evening air was cool against his face as he trudged up the path toward the dormitories. A few students gave him double-takes as he passed, but Jaune was far beyond caring at this point. The Beacon rumor mill had long since established that Jaune Arc moonlighted as "Juliette", and anyone who hadn't heard was clearly living under a rock.

He didn't even bother changing before returning to his dorm. What was the point? Team CRDL had already seen him in the outfit more times than he cared to count, Professor Port had once given him a wink and a thumbs-up in the hallway, and even Professor Goodwitch had taken to ignoring his maid-clad presence with a practiced air of professional detachment (though he didn't miss the way she gave him the occasional once-over).

By the time he reached his room, Jaune felt like he'd aged several decades in a single day. He pushed open the door with a weary sigh, prepared to collapse face-first onto his bed and possibly remain there until graduation.

He stepped inside, already reaching for his headband to remove it. Pyrrha was sitting alone on her bed, a textbook open beside her but clearly forgotten. She looked up as he entered, her emerald eyes widening slightly at his appearance before her cheeks flushed pink. She shifted on the mattress, looking uncharacteristically nervous, "Oh! Jaune," she said, her voice a bit higher than usual, "You're back. How was your... appointment?"

He closed the door behind him with a weary sigh, "Don't ask. Ruby decided she wanted to play 'big sister' for a day. There were gun analogies for sex talks. It was weird." He brought a hand across his hair and shook his head, the hair extensions swinging. Usually, he changed into and out of his maid uniform outside of the dorm to make things less weird for his teammates. But right now, he was just way too drained to worry about that.

Pyrrha blinked, "I... see."

Jaune studied her more closely. She was fidgeting with the edge of her skirt, a slight sheen of sweat visible on her forehead. Her leg was bouncing slightly, a nervous habit she usually kept under control. Something was definitely up, "Are you okay?" he asked, frowning in concern, "You seem tense."

Pyrrha let out a small, awkward laugh, "Me? I'm fine! Perfect, actually. Just... studying. Very intensely."

Jaune's brows furrowed. After a day of dealing with Ruby's bizarre behavior, he was getting pretty good at spotting when something was off. He glanced at Pyrrha's textbook. It was upside down, "Bad day?" He smiled sympathetically, setting his scroll down on his desk, "You look stressed."

Pyrrha bit her lip, her eyes darting away from his, "I suppose I am a bit... on edge." Jaune nodded. After everything they'd been through together, he could read Pyrrha pretty well. This was familiar territory, at least. Not like whatever fever dream his day with Ruby had been.

"Do you want some stress relief?" he asked, already reaching for the bow on his apron. This, at least, made sense to him.

Pyrrha looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth opened slightly, her brow furrowed as if wrestling with some internal debate. For a moment, Jaune thought she might actually decline because once a day (sometimes twice) for the past week was too much.

Then she exhaled softly, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded, "Yes, please."

Jaune felt a weight lift from his shoulders. This, he understood. This was simple. Uncomplicated. Just helping his partner unwind after a stressful day, no weird family roleplay or forced attempts at adulthood required.

"Finally," he muttered to himself as he untied his apron, "Something normal." He began undoing the buttons on his maid uniform, grateful for the familiarity of the routine. After a day of being dressed up, fed like a child, lectured about "adult relationships" by someone who clearly learned about them from weapon manuals, and nearly given a firearm as a coming-of-age present, the simple act of helping Pyrrha de-stress felt like an oasis of sanity.

Pyrrha eyed him the entire time. Probably that tournament fighter in her. She told him once that she was hardwired to look at people's muscles to see their shifts in movement. That was why she couldn't stop staring at him whenever he changed.

"Gods," He sighed as he shimmied out of the skirt, leaving the thigh-high stockings in place (Pyrrha mentioned once that she liked how they looked), "Why can't everyone else just be normal about this stuff? It doesn't have to be weird." Pyrrha made a small noise that might have been agreement, her eyes never leaving his body, "I mean," Jaune continued, tossing the dress aside, "We're just partners helping each other out. No pretending I'm someone's mother or sister or whatever. Just... straightforward stress relief between friends."

"Right," Pyrrha murmured, her voice soft, "Just... friends."

Jaune climbed onto the bed over Pyrrha, his mind already settling into the comfortable routine of what had become, ironically, the most normal part of his increasingly bizarre life. Just two partners, helping each other out. Nothing weird about that at all.

[line break]

Poor Jaune. And Pyrrha. And Ruby who spent a lot of money on those clothes Jaune just ditched.

Likely back to smut next chapter, I just don't know who yet. Cinder? Goodwitch? Blake? Someone else? 

Mister and Missus Arc-Schnee - Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Commissioner confirmed this'll go on for about 4 chapters.

For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543@gmail.com

[line break]

Ruby had been super excited for Combat Class. Like, jumping-on-her-bed-until-Weiss-threatened-to-freeze-her-feet-to-the-floor excited. This was what being at Beacon was all about! Learning to fight better! Showing off Crescent Rose! Getting tips from actual pro Huntsmen!

What she hadn't expected was to witness what could only be described as the most uncomfortable public meltdown in Beacon history.

It started innocently enough. Professor Goodwitch stood in the center of the combat arena, riding crop in hand, looking like she'd personally fight anyone who disrupted her class, "Today we will assess your combat abilities," she said, adjusting her glasses with one finger, "I need volunteers for our first match."

Weiss' hand shot up so fast it nearly broke the sound barrier, "Professor, Jaune and I will fight."

Ruby glanced at her partner in surprise. Weiss had barely spoken two words to Jaune all morning, and those words had been "move" and "idiot" when he'd accidentally stepped on her shoe. Professor Goodwitch raised an eyebrow, "It's unusual for teammates to spar against each other on the first day, Miss Schnee."

"I want to go," Jaune said, already standing up. He had a weird look on his face - kind of determined, kind of angry, and kind of something else Ruby couldn't identify.

Professor Goodwitch looked between them for a moment before nodding, "Very well. Please change into your combat outfits then come to the arena."

"Huh, one day and your teammates are already fighting," Yang said from the row behind Ruby, leaning forward, "My lien's on Weiss."

"Jaune is rather skilled," Pyrrha said, watching as he took his position across from Weiss, "I wouldn't count him out." Ruby wasn't sure what to expect. She'd only seen Jaune fight briefly during initiation, and while he'd been decent, he hadn't seemed like anything special. Weiss, on the other hand, had those cool glyphs and perfect swings.

The match began, and Ruby's jaw nearly hit the floor.

They were good. Like, really good. Weirdly good for first-year students.

Weiss moved like water, her rapier a blur of silver as she created glyph after glyph, launching herself around the arena with incredible speed. And were those... summons? Tiny glowing white Beowolves that charged at Jaune like angry puppies?

But Jaune was holding his own. His shield blocked everything Weiss threw at him, and he countered with sword strikes that showed years of training. His footwork was perfect, pivoting and sidestepping like he could predict Weiss' moves before she made them. He cut through the summons like they were made of paper and ignored one that slipped past and bit his ankle.

Ruby's eyes flicked between the fight and the Aura displays on the massive screen overhead. Professor Goodwitch had said the match would end when either contestant's Aura dropped to 70 percent. But the numbers were barely moving. Weiss was at 95%, Jaune at 97%.

"How much Aura do they have?" Ruby whispered, more to herself than anyone else. The fight was mesmerizing. They moved like they'd practiced fighting each other for years, anticipating feints, countering strategies, adjusting in real-time. It was less like a spar and more like a deadly dance between two experts. Every move perfectly executed then countered, like they knew exactly what the other one was gonna do before they did it.

And then something changed.

Jaune blocked a particularly aggressive thrust from Weiss, their faces inches apart over their locked weapons. He said something that Ruby couldn't hear from the stands, but his grin was all teeth and he looked almost manic.

Whatever he said, it made Weiss' face go fire dust red.

"What did you just say to me?!" she shrieked, loud enough for the entire arena to hear.

And just like that, all technique went out the window.

Weiss abandoned her rapier completely and tackled Jaune to the ground. Actually tackled him. Proper football-style, full-body launch. The co-CEO of the Schnee Dust Company was wrestling on the floor like a tavern brawler, "Holy shit!" Yang said, eyes wide and laughing, "This is awesome!"

Awesome was one word for it. Horrifying was another. Cataclysmic might have been the most accurate.

Jaune and Weiss rolled across the arena floor, a tangle of limbs and fury and- oh Brothers, was Weiss trying to gouge his eyes out?!

"I think we should stop them," Pyrrha murmured, "This doesn't seem like typical sparring behavior."

Before anyone could respond, Weiss delivered a devastating kick directly to Jaune's groin. Like, heel first. Every male student in the audience winced collectively. Several crossed their legs protectively. Even Professor Goodwitch looked horrified, "That's for missing our anniversary, you lying sack of-" Weiss' next words were cut off as Jaune, despite what must have been excruciating pain, grabbed a fistful of her pristine white ponytail and yanked. Hard.

Yang actually hissed, "Not the hair. Never the hair."

"Whitley was right about you!" Jaune bellowed as Weiss shrieked and clawed at his face.

Professor Goodwitch stepped forward, looking alarmed, "That's enough! The match is-"

Neither of them were listening. They were too busy trying to murder each other with their bare hands, their weapons completely abandoned on the arena floor, "You have a tiny dick!" Weiss screamed, loud enough that Ruby was pretty sure people all the way down in Vale could hear it. Ruby's face went as red as her cloak. Oh no. Oh no no no. This was not happening. This was not the kind of combat training she'd signed up for!

"You cum the second I go inside you!" Jaune roared back, somehow even louder, "One thrust and it's like a waterfall! And you screech like a banshee!" The entire class went dead silent for a split second before erupting into scandalized gasps and nervous laughter. Ruby wanted to sink through the floor and possibly all the way to the center of Remnant.

Weiss, apparently unaware or uncaring that they had an audience of shell-shocked classmates, wasn't done, "I faked every single orgasm! Every. Single. One!"

"By the Brothers," Blake whispered from somewhere behind Ruby, "Is this actually happening?"

It was. It absolutely was. And it was somehow getting worse by the second.

Professor Goodwitch was shouting for them to stop, her voice sharp with authority, but Jaune and Weiss were beyond hearing. They were in some kind of rage-fueled alternate dimension where only they existed, rolling around on the floor of the combat arena, screaming deeply personal sexual information at each other.

"You broke my grandpa's coffee table with your bony ass!" Jaune yelled.

"You cried after sex on our honeymoon! I still remember, Arc!" Weiss shrieked.

Ruby couldn't look away. It was like watching a Nevermore crash into a Dust refinery - horrific, but impossible to ignore. And apparently, she wasn't the only one. The entire class was quiet, watching with a mixture of horror and fascination, "Did... Did she say honeymoon?" Pyrrha asked quietly. Ruby had no answer. Her brain had short-circuited around the time Weiss had started discussing Jaune's d-dick.

The fight had devolved into something primal. Weiss had managed to flip Jaune onto his back and was sitting on his chest, slapping at his face while he pulled at her combat skirt. Their Aura meters were still barely below 90%, which was impressive considering how hard they were going at it..

And then Weiss straight-up bit Jaune on the cheek. Not a playful nip. A full-on, jaw-clenched, leaving-teeth-marks BITE. Ruby saw Jaune's Aura go down by two percent.

Jaune howled, "You bit me! Again! You crazy ice bitch!" Again?! What did he mean again?!

"Enough!" Professor Goodwitch shouted, and suddenly both Jaune and Weiss were floating six feet off the ground, suspended in a purple glow of the professor's telekinetic Semblance. They dangled there, still trying to claw at each other despite being held several feet apart.

"Miss Schnee! Mr. Arc!" Professor Goodwitch's voice could have frozen fire, "This behavior is absolutely unacceptable! You will both report to the headmaster's office immediately!" Neither of them seemed to hear her. They were still glaring at each other with enough intensity that Ruby half expected laser beams to shoot from their eyes.

"I hate your stupid face!" Weiss screamed.

"I hate your entire existence!" Jaune bellowed back.

Professor Goodwitch, apparently deciding that further conversation was pointless, simply floated them both out of the arena, their bodies still suspended in her telekinetic grip. They continued hurling insults at each other as they disappeared through the doors, their voices echoing down the hallway.

The class sat in stunned silence after they were gone, "Well," Professor Goodwitch said, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her glasses with impressive composure, "That was... irregular. Let's continue with the next match, shall we?"

Ruby couldn't move. She couldn't think. She just sat there, trying to process what she'd just witnessed, "So," Yang said, breaking the silence as she leaned forward to rest her chin on Ruby's shoulder, "Your partner and your teammate are either trying to kill each other or have some really intense history. Possibly both."

"They said they didn't know each other," Ruby whispered, still shell-shocked.

"Yeah, about that," Yang said, patting her shoulder consolingly, "I'm pretty sure they lied."

Ruby nodded weakly. The evidence suggested that not only did Weiss and Jaune know each other, but they knew each other in ways Ruby really, really wished she could un-hear, "Do you think they'll be kicked out of Beacon?" Pyrrha asked, looking genuinely worried.

She honestly had no idea. All she knew was that their team - Team RJWP, less than 24 hours old - was already the most dysfunctional group in the history of Huntsman academies.

"They better not get kicked out," she said finally, "Because if they do, I'm going to kill them both myself. With Crescent Rose. Slowly."

The scary part was she kind of meant it.

[line break]

Jaune rubbed his sore cheek as he and Weiss trudged back to their dorm room, the bite mark still throbbing despite his Aura's attempts to heal it. Ozpin's office had been... uncomfortable, to say the least. The headmaster had watched them with those unnerving eyes, fingers steepled beneath his chin, as they'd fumbled through explanations of "pre-existing tensions" and "combat high."

They'd carefully avoided mentioning anything about time travel, Salem, or their shared past-future-whatever. Not yet. Not while they were still figuring out their next moves. Better that he didn't risk dying and Oscar remain a farm boy in Anima, his brain uneaten by an ancient wizard with questionable judgment.

For his part, Ozpin hadn't seemed entirely convinced by their excuses, but he'd let them off with a warning and a week of detention scrubbing the dining hall after hours. A light punishment, all things considered. Jaune suspected the headmaster was more curious than angry, which was both good and bad. An intrigued Ozpin was a meddling Ozpin. As much as he kept the world safe until now, they didn't need someone hovering over their shoulder.

Weiss threw open the door to their dorm room, shoulders stiff with lingering rage. Ruby and Pyrrha were still in class, leaving them alone to stew in the aftermath of their very public meltdown, "I cannot believe," Weiss hissed as she slammed the door behind them, "That you thought it was appropriate to announce my sexual responses to an entire classroom of teenagers."

Jaune snorted, dropping onto the windowsill with his arms crossed, "Says the woman who informed all of Beacon that I have a 'tiny dick.' Which, by the way, is a blatant lie and you know it!" He tried not to think about how much she praised said part of his anatomy back in their old life.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Weiss said, voice dripping with sarcasm as she perched on the edge of her bed, "Should I have been more specific about the disappointing aspects of your anatomy?"Jaune tried not to notice the way her combat skirt rode up when she crossed her legs, exposing a few more inches of smooth, pale thighs. Nope. Not looking. That way lay madness and death. Probably his death, specifically, courtesy of Myrtenaster through his eye socket.

They sat in smoldering silence for several minutes, the tension so thick Jaune could have cut it with Crocea Mors.

Finally, Weiss spoke, "You're an asshole."

"And you're a bitch," Jaune shot back without hesitation.

Weiss' lips curled into a sneer, "Do you actually have a plan to stop the Fall, or are you just going to coast along and let me do all the strategic thinking as usual?"

Jaune shrugged, feigning nonchalance, "I was thinking I'd cut Cinder's throat and go from there. Simple, effective, minimal room for error."

"Short-sighted, as always," Weiss said, shaking her head, "We need a guarantee that her Maiden powers won't transfer to Emerald. Have you even considered that?" Jaune frowned at the name. Emerald. She'd ditched them shortly after they arrived in Vacuo and they never found her again. So much for her supposed redemption arc.

"Fine," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "What's your brilliant plan, then? Since you're obviously the strategic mastermind here."

Weiss straightened, a smug little smile playing at her lips, "It's actually quite simple. Cinder has no idea that we're anything besides regular first-year students. It shouldn't be too difficult to poison their drinks."

Jaune blinked, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Poison," Weiss repeated slowly, as if talking to a particularly dim child, "I can get my hands on some high-grade paralytics. There are a few formulations that work even against active Aura. Expensive, but money isn't an issue for me. They'll last long enough for us to deal with all three of them."

"Right," Jaune gave her a flat look, "You don't sound completely insane or anything. 'Hello, transfer students! Would you like some refreshing beverages laced with deadly neurotoxins'?"

Weiss rolled her eyes, "Don't be dramatic. We'd be subtle about it."

"Because subtle is definitely what we were today in combat class."

"That was different," Weiss said, having the grace to look slightly abashed, "You provoked me."

"I made one comment about how you used to like my sword technique!"

"It was clearly innuendo!"

Jaune threw up his hands, "Everything is innuendo to you! I can't even ask you to pass the salt without you thinking I'm making some kind of dirty joke!"

"Because you usually are!"

They were shouting again. Jaune took a deep breath, forcing himself to lower his voice. They couldn't afford another big fight, "Look," he said, trying for a reasonable tone, "I remember there's an Aura transfer machine in the vault beneath the school. We could use that to safely transfer the Maiden powers if we manage to capture Cinder. We can save that Amber woman."

Weiss looked surprised, like she hadn't expected him to come up with something actually useful. It was irritating how low her expectations of him still were, "That's... not a terrible idea," she admitted, "But we'd need to tell Ozpin. We can't exactly sneak into the vault."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed, "We'll have to loop him in at some point. Probably sooner rather than later."

"But Cinder isn't the only problem we need to address," Weiss said, ticking points off on her perfectly manicured fingers, "There's the White Fang operation in Mountain Glenn, Roman Torchwick and his psychotic little sidekick, Adam Taurus, and of course, Salem herself."

"One thing at a time," Jaune said, wondering how they were possibly going to handle all this without getting their friends killed. Again, "Cinder's the immediate threat. She's the lynchpin of the attack on Beacon. We take her out, everything else changes."

Weiss nodded, then added, "Taking down Raven Branwen would be advantageous as well. She's the Spring Maiden, and even if she's not aligned with Salem, she's using her powers to kill and enslave her way across Anima. It's frankly insulting that Ozpin's group hasn't dealt with her before now."

"Yeah," Jaune agreed, surprising himself. It was probably the first thing they'd agreed on all day, "Raven's a problem. And she has the Relic, or will have it eventually. I dunno. Yang was pretty vague on the details." They lapsed into silence again, but it was different now. Less hostile, more contemplative. They were on the same side, even if they couldn't stand each other. The fate of the world depended on them putting aside their personal issues, at least long enough to prevent the apocalypse.

"We should write this down," Weiss said suddenly, "Make a proper plan, with contingencies."

"You and your lists," Jaune said, but there was almost a fondness in his voice. Almost.

"My lists saved your ass more times than I can count," Weiss retorted. It was weird hearing her curse again. She looked almost innocent now that they were teenagers again. Not like the hardened, cold executive who had perpetual bags under her eyes even Aura couldn't fix.

"Your lists nearly got us killed in Vacuo."

"That wasn't the list's fault! That was your inability to follow simple instructions!"

And just like that, they were back to bickering. Some things never changed, no matter how much time travel was involved.

Jaune sighed, looking out the window at Beacon's pristine grounds. It was strange seeing the school whole again, untouched by the destruction that had marked the beginning of the end. They had a chance to preserve this, to save all the lives that had been lost the first time around. To turn their bittersweet ending into a happy one.

If they could just stop fighting long enough to actually do it.

"Truce?" he offered, not looking at Weiss, "For real this time. At least until we've dealt with Cinder and saved Pyrrha. We can hate each other as much as we want after."

There was a long pause.

"Fine," Weiss said finally, "Truce. But if you say one more thing about my 'explosive' temper, I will cut off your-"

The door burst open, revealing Ruby and Pyrrha, both looking apprehensive. They froze in the doorway, clearly expecting to walk in on the second Great War, "Oh!" Ruby said, silver eyes darting nervously between Jaune and Weiss, "You guys are... not killing each other?"

"We've reached an understanding," Weiss said primly, as if she hadn't been threatening Jaune Junior just seconds earlier.

"For now," Jaune added.

Pyrrha stepped into the room cautiously, "Professor Goodwitch explained that... tensions sometimes run high between partners during combat practice." She didn't sound convinced by the explanation but she was too nice to argue. Classic Pyrrha. He found himself smiling before he remembered that day, "But perhaps it would be beneficial if we discussed proper team communication strategies?"

Ruby nodded quickly, "Yeah! And maybe you guys could explain, you know, why you were talking about honeymoons and stuff? Because that was super weird and everyone's talking about it and Yang won't stop making jokes and-"

"No," Weiss and Jaune said in perfect unison.

Ruby's shoulders slumped, "But we're supposed to be a team! And teams don't keep secrets! Especially not... whatever that was in the arena."

Jaune and Weiss exchanged a look. For the second time today, they were in complete agreement: there was no way in hell they were explaining time travel, future marriage, and apocalyptic warfare to their teenage teammates. Some truths were better left unsaid.

"Would you believe we were both possessed by the ghosts of a dysfunctional married couple?" Jaune asked.

Ruby's flat stare was answer enough.

"We have... issues to work through," Weiss said diplomatically, "But we've agreed to be civil for the sake of the team."

"Civil," Pyrrha repeated, raising an eyebrow, "Is that what you call what happened today?"

"That was an anomaly," Weiss said.

"A one-time thing," Jaune nodded.

"It will not happen again," Weiss said, with the conviction of someone who absolutely knew it would happen again, probably within 24 hours.

Ruby didn't look convinced, but she seemed willing to let it go for now, "Well... okay. But if you guys start trying to kill each other again, I'm getting Professor Goodwitch, and she's waaaaay scarier than Professor Ozpin." She had no idea how true that was, Jaune thought. In the original timeline, Glynda Goodwitch had survived everything Salem had thrown at them, emerging from the final battle with barely a scratch while looking mildly annoyed at the inconvenience.

"Understood," Weiss said crisply.

As Ruby and Pyrrha began unpacking their books, chattering about the rest of their classes, Jaune caught Weiss' eye. She gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. A silent agreement to continue their planning later, away from curious teammates.

Maybe they could pull this off after all. Assuming they didn't kill each other first.

[line break]

Ruby went through some hard stuff in her fifteen years of life. She'd fought Grimm, gotten into Beacon two years early, and convinced Dad to let her have cookies for dinner that one time when she was nine. But nothing - absolutely nothing - had prepared her for the complete and total weirdness that was having Weiss Schnee as a partner.

It had been two weeks since The Incident (which was what everyone called the combat class meltdown now, always with capital letters and hushed voices). Jaune and Weiss were serving their detention every night, scrubbing pots in the cafeteria and apparently managing not to murder each other, which Ruby counted as a win. She'd even caught them having what looked like an actual civil conversation yesterday, their heads bent together over some papers that they'd quickly hidden when she approached.

Progress! Maybe. Possibly. ...She wasn't holding her breath.

But while the Jaune-Weiss situation had stabilized from "active volcano" to "dormant volcano that might explode again at any moment," Ruby was still trying to figure out what the heck was going on with her partner.

Because Weiss Schnee was the most confusing person Ruby had ever met.

On the one hand, Weiss was super supportive. Like, aggressively supportive, "If you need anything at all, just ask me, Ruby. We're partners, after all," she'd say, at least twice a day, in this weirdly intense voice that made it sound like she was reminding herself as much as Ruby. She tutored Ruby in Dust studies without a single condescending comment. She made sure Ruby was eating properly. She even woke up early to train with Ruby before classes, offering genuinely helpful combat advice without any of the snark Ruby would have expected from someone who radiated "better than you" energy like it was her Semblance.

But then there were the other moments. The ones that made Ruby feel like she was missing some huge, obvious thing that everyone else understood. Like how Weiss would sometimes glare at her when she thought Ruby wasn't looking. Not an angry glare exactly, but suspicious, like she expected Ruby to suddenly rip off a mask and reveal herself as a Beowolf in disguise. Or the way she'd mutter under her breath sometimes when Ruby was talking to Jaune.

"Homewrecker," she'd hiss, barely audible.

"Skank," she'd murmur, while aggressively stabbing her salad at lunch.

That was the pattern. Weiss would be super supportive one moment, then mutter things like "homewrecker" and "just like her mother" the next. It was giving Ruby emotional whiplash. And then, just when Ruby was ready to confront her about it, Weiss would do something completely disarming.

Like yesterday, when she'd presented Ruby with a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, the super fancy kind from that expensive bakery in Vale.

"These are for you," Weiss had said, thrusting the box at Ruby with a smile that was almost warm, "To keep you from getting wandering eyes."

"Wandering... eyes?" Ruby had repeated, completely lost but already drooling at the sight of the strawberries, "Like, so I don't need glasses?"

Weiss had just patted her on the shoulder with a weird little laugh, "You're so funny, Ruby. Enjoy the strawberries. They're your favorite, right?"

And they were. Which was another weird thing. Weiss seemed to know all of Ruby's favorite things without being told. She'd given Ruby a red and black scarf last week, claiming it would "complement her combat outfit," but it was exactly the kind of scarf Ruby had been eyeing in a shop window the previous weekend. A shop they hadn't visited together and she never even went inside of because the thing had two too many zeroes for her liking.

Then there was the premium Dust. Ruby had been saving up for weeks to buy some for Crescent Rose's upgrades, and then Weiss had just... handed her a case of it. Top quality, perfectly suited for Ruby's specific weapon needs, "SDC's finest," Weiss had said with a dismissive wave when Ruby tried to thank her, "I have warehouses full of the stuff. It's nothing."

Maybe it was nothing to Weiss, but to Ruby, it was bizarre. Were all rich people this randomly generous? Was it a Schnee thing? A partner thing? A cover-up-for-whatever-weird-history-she-had-with-Jaune thing?

"I think you're her sugar baby," Yang had said that morning when she visited their dorm room, watching as Ruby unwrapped yet another gift. This time it was a special weapon-cleaning oil that smelled like roses. Actual roses.

"I'm her what?" Ruby had asked, completely baffled.

Yang had laughed so hard she'd fallen off her bed, "Never mind, sis. Just enjoy your rose-scented gun lube."

Ruby still had no idea what Yang meant, but she'd decided it was probably another one of those jokes that she'd understand when she was older. Or, given her current trajectory, one of those jokes she'd never understand, because her entire Beacon education was turning into a bizarre social experiment rather than actual Huntress training.

The most confusing part was that Weiss seemed to genuinely care about her well-being while simultaneously acting like she was some kind of threat. Which made absolutely no sense! Ruby couldn't intimidate Zwei, let alone the heiress to the largest Dust company on Remnant.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Yang asked, dropping down next to Ruby on the library bench a day later.

Ruby jumped, nearly dropping her comic book- uh, very serious study material! "Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I called your name three times," Yang said, raising an eyebrow, "You were in the zone."

"I was thinking about Weiss," Ruby admitted, closing her comic, "She's so weird."

"Yeah, that's an understatement," Yang said, leaning back, "She give you any new gifts?"

Ruby nodded glumly, "This morning she gave me these." She scooted back slightly and raised her feet to show Yang a pair of combat boots that were exact replicas of her current ones, except they were lined with some kind of super-light material that made them feel like walking on clouds, "Then she said, and I quote, 'So you can run faster away from me when your Rose instincts kick in'." She said the name 'Rose' like a curse. Ruby didn't know whether to be offended or confused.

"Rose instincts? The hell does that mean?"

"I have no idea!" Ruby shook her head. But man, these boots felt awesome...

"You know, the whole Weiss-Jaune situation is like a soap opera. My team has a betting pool going on what they're actually fighting about."

"You do?" Ruby perked up, "What's your theory?"

Yang lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Well, Blake thinks they're ex-Huntsmen partners who had a falling out over a mission gone wrong. Ren thinks they're reincarnations of an old married couple. Nora thinks they're childhood friends who played house way too hard. But my money's on secret lovers from rival families, like a whole Montague-Capulet situation." Ruby almost laughed at the casual reference. Yang was a sucker for tragic romances no matter how old.

"Secret... lovers?" Ruby whispered, eyes wide, "But they hate each other!"

"Thin line between love and hate, Rubes," Yang said with a wink, "And nobody fights that dirty unless they've seen each other naked."

Ruby's face burned at the memory of the combat class. The things they'd shouted at each other.., "But they're our age! When would they have had time to... you know..." She waved a hand nervously. Sex was weird. Everyone her year back at Signal was running around all hormonal like while she was still focused on weapons and, you know, being a Huntress. Who ahd time for all that junk about prom and dating and whatever?

"Secret summer romance?" Yang suggested, "Forbidden tryst at a Dust conference? Weekend in Vacuo that got out of hand? The possibilities are endless."

Ruby frowned and thought about it. It didn't seem right. The way Weiss and Jaune fought was too... personal. Too specific. And there was the whole "honeymoon" thing they'd shouted about,"Yang," she said slowly, "Do you think it's possible they're, like... married?"

Yang snorted, "At seventeen? Not likely. Besides, who would officiate a wedding for minors? I can't even get a drink down in Vale and I'm training to fight Grimm, "

"Yeah, you're right," Ruby said, but something still nagged at her. The way Weiss and Jaune seemed to know things - about each other, about the school, about their classmates - that they shouldn't know. The way they'd sometimes slip and reference events that hadn't happened.

Like last week, when Pyrrha had been practicing her Semblance and Jaune had casually mentioned something about "the food fight," only to freeze and hastily change the subject when she asked what he meant. Or how Weiss somehow knew that Professor Port's first name was Peter, even though he'd never introduced himself as anything but "Professor Port" in class. She brushed it off by saying that she looked him up on the school site, but his picture there said. 'P. Port.'

Little things. Weird things. Things that didn't add up.

"Maybe they're time travelers," Ruby joked weakly.

Yang burst out laughing, "Yeah, right! And I've with magical powers."

Ruby laughed too, but the idea stuck with her. Not seriously, of course - time travel was impossible, even in a world with Semblances and Dust and Grimm. But it would explain a lot. Like why Weiss kept giving her those suspicious little glares, then showering her with gifts. Or why Jaune sometimes looked at Pyrrha with this heartbreaking sadness, like he was seeing a ghost. Or why both of them seemed to know exactly when Professor Goodwitch would call on students in class.

Ruby was still pondering this when a shadow fell over her. She looked up to find Weiss standing there, holding yet another wrapped package.

"Ruby," Weiss said, her smile just a little too bright, "I got you something."

"Another present?" Ruby asked, barely hiding her exasperation, "Weiss, you don't have to keep buying me stuff."

"Nonsense," Weiss said, thrusting the package at her, "That's what partners do. Support each other. With gifts. And not stealing each other's significant others." The last part was muttered so quietly that Ruby almost missed it.

"What was that last part?"

"Nothing!" Weiss said brightly, "Just open it."

Ruby unwrapped the package to find a beautiful red leather journal with her emblem embossed on the cover.

"I noticed you like to sketch weapon designs," Weiss said, looking pleased with herself, "I thought you might like something special to draw in."

It was actually a really thoughtful gift. Ruby ran her fingers over the embossed rose symbol, genuinely touched, "This is really nice, Weiss. Thank you."

Weiss beamed, then her expression suddenly darkened as she looked past Ruby. Ruby turned to see Jaune entering the library, accompanied by Pyrrha.

"I have to go," Weiss said abruptly, "Study... things. Enjoy your journal! Remember, partnerships are sacred and should never be betrayed!" And with that, she stalked off toward Jaune and Pyrrha, interrupting whatever conversation they were having with a vehemence that suggested it was a matter of life and death.

Yang watched her go, then turned back to Ruby with raised eyebrows, "Still think she's a time traveler and not just crushing on you super hard?"

"Crushing on me?" Ruby spluttered, "That's ridiculous! She's just being a good partner!"

"Uh-huh," Yang said skeptically, "A good partner who glares at Jaune every time he talks to you and buys you fancy gifts with little roses on them. Shit, I wish Blake was that good with me."

"It's not like that!" Ruby huffed, though a small, confused part of her wondered if maybe, possibly, Yang might be onto something. And if Ruby was against the idea or not, "She's just... Weiss. Being Weiss-y."

"If you say so," Yang said, clearly unconvinced, "But if she starts writing you poetry or trying to take you to fancy restaurants, don't say I didn't warn you."

Ruby clutched her new journal to her chest, watching as Weiss cornered Jaune by the history section, jabbing a finger at his chest while Pyrrha looked on in bewilderment. Whatever was going on with her partner, Ruby was determined to figure it out. If Weiss was hiding something - whether it was a crush, a secret past with Jaune, or some arranged marriage divorce - Ruby would get to the bottom of it. After all, that's what partners did. Support each other, figure out each other's weird behavior, and accept way too many expensive gifts without asking too many questions.

Also, kill Grimm. But that part actually seemed easier than understanding Weiss Schnee.

[line break]

Jaune had learned to recognize the signs of Weiss Schnee plotting something. The slightly narrowed eyes. The too-casual posture. The way she'd tap her index finger against her thumb when she thought no one was looking. After five years of marriage and thirteen years of knowing her, he was practically a professional Weiss-decoder. Maybe even better than Ruby had been. Would be. Whatever. Time travel terminology sucked.

So when she'd announced at breakfast that she was 'inviting' the team down to Vale to see the festival preparations, his internal alarm bells had immediately started ringing, "It'll be fun!" she'd said with a smile so forced it looked painful, "Team bonding!"

Ruby had nearly choked on her cereal, "You... want to hang out? With us? For fun?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" Weiss had asked, her eye twitching slightly.

"Yes," all three of them had answered in unison. Even Pyrrha.

But somehow, here they were, stepping off the airship in Vale. Jaune had managed not to vomit this time. Small victories. His teenage body might be gangly and awkward, but at least he'd overcome the motion sickness through sheer force of will and the memory of Yang's relentless "Vomit Boy" mockery., "Oh!" Weiss said, with all the subtlety of an Ursa in a porcelain shop, "Ruby, Pyrrha, could you check if that shop over there has any Dust rounds? I've been meaning to restock."

Ruby frowned, "But you just bought like a ton of premium Dust last week. You gave half of it to me, remember?" Probably while calling her a skank and making veiled threats about how the bullets would be going through her back if she tried anything.

"Different kind," Weiss said quickly, "Very specific. Technical. You wouldn't understand. I had it specially ordered."

"I'm pretty good with Dust, actually-"

"Pyrrha needs help carrying it!" Weiss blurted out.

Pyrrha, who'd been watching this exchange with bemused confusion, blinked, "I do?"

"Yes," Weiss said, eyes boring into Pyrrha with laser intensity, "You do."

"Oh," Pyrrha said slowly, catching on that something weird was happening, "Yes. I... need help. With the carrying. Of the Dust." Jaune didn't know whether to smile or sigh at Pyrrha's dogged determination to be nice and not rock the boat.

"Great!" Weiss clapped her hands together, "Off you go! Jaune and I will wait right here."

As soon as Ruby and Pyrrha were out of earshot, Jaune turned to Weiss with a raised eyebrow, "Subtle."

"Shut up," Weiss said, dropping the fake smile, "We need to talk."

"About what? Your complete inability to act like a normal human being?"

"No, you insufferable oaf. About our plan for today."

Jaune crossed his arms, leaning against a nearby lamppost, "What plan? You didn't tell me about any plan."

"That's because you've been avoiding me for the past three days."

"I haven't been avoiding you. I've been strategically minimizing my exposure to your particular brand of crazy." Mostly because he'd made a comment about her push-up bra and barely avoided being turned into a Jaune-cicle.

Weiss' nostrils flared, but she seemed to physically restrain herself from escalating. Progress, Jaune supposed, "We have two objectives today," she said, all business, "First, we need to meet Penny."

"Penny?" Jaune's heart gave a little pang at the name. Penny Polendina, the robot girl with more humanity than most humans he'd known. Cut down by...by him during the evacuation of Atlas. She'd asked for it - begged him to, really - and it was because of her sacrifice that he and the rest of team RWBY made it through the portal with the staff.

"Yes," Weiss said, "In our original timeline, we - well, I - literally bumped into her while we were chasing Sun Wukong around. This time, I'm not going to be racist about the faunus situation, so we'll just 'happen' to run into Penny, and then I'll subtly make it so that Ruby and Penny become best friends." She made it sound like the most cunning plan on Remnant.

"Why?" Jaune asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Sure enough, Weiss' expression turned slightly maniacal, "Because I care about Ruby, and hopefully Penny will keep Ruby's eyes from wandering like she did last time around." Jaune sighed, not even bothering to correct her about the non-existent cheating. Weiss had constructed her own reality around their divorce, and no amount of evidence was going to change her mind. He didn't really know how to feel about her downright schizophrenic treatment of Ruby.

"And the second objective?" he asked instead.

"Today is the day that Roman Torchwick and the White Fang steal Dust from the docks," Weiss said, checking her scroll, "I've made sure that the deliveries for Vytal weren't interrupted despite my coup against my father. Originally, this was when Blake ran off after I made some... insensitive comments about the faunus, and she and Sun encountered Roman at the docks."

"Right," Jaune said, remembering when Ruby told team JNPR second-hand all those years back. Back then, he'd been pettily jealous, thinking that team RWBY was off having all the fun adventures, "And then the rest of you showed up later."

"Exactly. I wished I'd been at From Dust Till Dawn when Ruby first fought Torchwick, but I had something to deal with." She clicked her tongue, "It's fine. The two of us can handle him this time, and Blake won't need to run off to prove the White Fang's involvement." Jaune nodded slowly. Despite his issues with Weiss, he had to admit it was a solid plan. They could apprehend Torchwick months ahead of schedule, potentially preventing a lot of the chaos that had led to the Breach.

Neo was gonna be a problem though...

"You must've noticed it, by the way," she said airily, "Our Aura."

Jaune grunted. He kenw what she meant. For some reason, their Auras had doubled when they got sent back, and they'd advanced rapidly. He'd unlocked his Semblance and Weiss could summon years ahead of schedule. Neither of them knew the exact reason why, but Weiss theorized that maybe it was because their souls had been sent back. And since Aura was the soul made manifest, they'd esentially compounded it. Jaune didn't really know how valid that sounded, and he didn't really care.

All he knew was that it'd make fighting Torchwick, Cinder, and everyone else easier. They'd be expecting first years, not fully-trained Huntsmen with double the Aura they should have had. Which in his case, was a lot.

"So we go to the docks tonight," he said.

"Yes. But first, Penny." Weiss checked her scroll again, "She should be around here somewhere..."

As if on cue, Ruby and Pyrrha emerged from the Dust shop, looking confused, "They said they don't have any special technical Dust orders," Ruby said, giving Weiss a suspicious look.

"How strange. I was so sure I ordered from them," Weiss said, not sounding surprised at all, "Well, let's continue our tour, shall we?"

They walked through the bustling streets of Vale, Weiss keeping a keen eye out for a certain orange-haired girl. Jaune found himself doing the same, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling in his stomach. Seeing people who had died in the original timeline - Penny, Pyrrha - was simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking.

"Oh!" Weiss suddenly exclaimed, stopping short, "I think I see- oomph!" She was cut off as someone collided with her from behind, sending her stumbling forward. Jaune caught her reflexively, his hands gripping her waist to steady her. For a brief moment, they were pressed together, faces inches apart, and Jaune was hit with a wave of unwelcome familiarity. Her perfume - winter pines and frost - hadn't changed, and he felt how soft her skin was even through her dress.

Weiss' face flushed and she jerked away from him like she'd been burned, whirling around to face the person who'd bumped into her.

"Salutations!" And there she was. Penny Polendina, looking exactly as Jaune remembered. Bright orange hair, big green eyes, and that slightly stiff, too-perfect posture that hinted at her non-human nature, "I apologize for the collision!" Penny said, giving a little bow, "I was not properly calibrating my direction of movement!"

Weiss smiled. A genuine smile, not the forced grimace she'd been sporting earlier, "It's quite alright," she said, "No harm done. I'm Weiss Schnee, and these are my teammates: Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos, and Jaune Arc."

Penny's eyes widened slightly at each name, like she was recording them to memory. Which, Jaune realized, she probably was. "It is a pleasure to meet you all!" Penny said, "My name is Penny! I'm here for the tournament!"

"You're a fighter?" Pyrrha asked, perking up with interest.

"I'm combat ready!" Penny confirmed with an enthusiastic salute. He tried not to think of her begging him to kill her.

Weiss smiled again, looking at Ruby expectantly. This was clearly the moment in her master plan where Ruby and Penny were supposed to bond. Time for the subtle manipulation to work its magic. "It's lovely to meet you, Penny," Weiss said, her voice dripping with uncharacteristic warmth, "Ruby, perhaps you'd like to hang out with our new friend Penny here? I'm sure you two would get along splendidly. You seem like you have much in common!"

Jaune nearly choked trying not to laugh. Subtle was definitely not Weiss' strong suit.

Penny tilted her head, processing this. And then, instead of turning to Ruby as Weiss had so transparently orchestrated, she took a step closer to Weiss, "Friend?" she repeated, leaning in so close that Weiss had to lean back, "Did you just call me... friend?"

Weiss' eyes widened as she realized her mistake, "I, uh- well, what I meant was-"

"Are we friends?" Penny pressed, her green eyes huge and hopeful. Hungry for connection.

"I- that is- Ruby is the one who- " Weiss stammered, looking frantically at Ruby for help. But Ruby, bless her oblivious heart, was distracted by a weapons shop across the street and left her partner to fend for herself. Jaune and Pyrrha shared a look, Jaune barely holding back a shit-eating grin while Pyrrha looked both confused and worried. He shook his head.

"Sensational!" Penny said, clasping her hands together, "I've never had a friend before! This is such a momentous occasion! Friend Weiss, we must commemorate this development in our relationship!" Jaune couldn't hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing, earning a death glare from Weiss that only made him laugh harder. She'd been so determined to push Penny and Ruby together, and now she was stuck with an enthusiastic robot girl who'd imprinted on her like a baby duckling.

"I'm not- we're not-" Weiss tried, but Penny was already looping her arm through Weiss', practically vibrating with excitement. No, wait, she was literally vibrating.

"What activities do friends typically engage in?" Penny asked, "I have compiled a list of potential friendship rituals from my observations, but firsthand data would be most valuable!"

"Ruby," Weiss said desperately, "Don't you want to be friends with Penny too?! She seems right up your alley! Enthusiastic! Weapon-oriented! Not at all like me!"

Ruby, finally tuning back into the conversation, smiled, "Uh, sure! The more friends, the merrier! But it looks like you guys are already hitting it off, so don't mind me."

"Perfect!" Penny said, "Friend Weiss and Friend Ruby! This exceeds all expectations for my first day of autonomous exploration!"

Jaune was pretty sure he'd cracked a rib from trying to suppress his laughter. The look of absolute horror on Weiss' face as she realized she was now stuck with the very friend she'd tried to pawn off on Ruby was priceless, "So, Penny," Jaune said, deciding to twist the knife a bit, "Weiss was just saying how much she loves showing new friends around Vale. I bet she'd be thrilled to give you a personal tour."

If looks could kill, Jaune would have been a smoking crater in the pavement. Weiss' glare promised slow, painful retribution, "Is that true, Friend Weiss?" Penny asked, eyes shining with hope.

"I... yes," Weiss managed through gritted teeth, "Nothing would make me happier."

"Sensational! Perhaps we could begin with an analysis of local cuisine? I am most curious about the concept of 'comfort food' and its psychological effects!" As Penny began dragging Weiss toward a nearby cafe, chattering excitedly about friendship protocols and nutritional intake, Jaune caught his ex-wife's eye over Penny's shoulder. He grinned and gave her a little wave, enjoying her predicament far more than he probably should have.

Weiss mouthed what looked suspiciously like "I will end you" before being pulled through the café door by her enthusiastic new best friend.

"Well," Jaune said to Ruby and Pyrrha, "that wasn't how I expected this trip to go, but I can't say I'm disappointed."

"Weiss made a friend!" Ruby said, sounding genuinely happy, "That's great! She needs to do more than just calling me names and buying me stuff." Pyrrha nodded politely, though she still looked confused by the whole interaction.

Jaune glanced at his scroll, checking the time. They still had hours before the White Fang would show up at the docks. And now it seemed like he'd be handling that situation alone, since Weiss was busy with her new BFF. He couldn't wait to remind her of this spectacular backfire the next time she accused him of being the incompetent one in their relationship.

Former relationship, he corrected himself mentally. Very, very former.

Though watching her squirm under Penny's enthusiastic friendship advances had been oddly... endearing? No, that wasn't the right word. Hilarious. That was it. Definitely hilarious, not endearing at all.

[line break]

Chapter 3 has them clowning the villains and Ozpin/Ironwood getting a massive infodump.

Minecraft Jaune Omake: Faunus Jaune 1

Hey-o! Here's the what-if omake I had planned months ago: what if Minecraft Jaune was a Faunus? Turns out, the kingdoms hoping to exploit him are even more screwed than they are in the main storyline. Meanwhile, Blake just gets an immediate critical success dice roll due to the race modifier.

For people asking, the guy commissioning this is on vacay and he'll be back in a month or two. So omake first. Hope you guys enjoy this one.

For anyone interested in making a commission, email me at: storylover543 gmail . com

[line break]

Blake had seen many impressive things in her life. Atlas's floating marvel of technology (which was used to prop up exploitative racists), Mistral's ancient temples perched atop mountains (also used to prop up exploitative racists), the grandeur of Vale's walls that kept the Grimm at bay (less racist, but that wasn't saying much), and the labyrinthine maze of Vacuo's capital (not racists, if only because they hated everone outside of their group).

But nothing, not a single thing, had prepared her for the sight of Domremy.

The village-turned-kingdom stood as a testament to what was possible when someone with extraordinary abilities decided to use them for the betterment of all. Buildings that would have made Atlesian architects envious rose from what had once been simple countryside. Streets were immaculately paved, every storefront meticulously designed to be both beautiful and practical. The wall surrounding the settlement rivaled Vale's own defenses, with turrets and watchtowers that made the perimeter look utterly impregnable. Specialized airships flew through the air patrolling the city and it's surroundings while golems walked the streets hailing citizens.

It was nothing like the rough-hewn settlements Blake had passed through during her time with the White Fang. Those places had been built from necessity, cobbled together from whatever materials could be scavenged or afforded to allow survival against the Grimm and bandits (and groups like the White Fang...). Domremy was different. Every inch of it screamed intention and care.

Blake's cat ears twitched beneath her bow as she took in the sounds of a thriving community. Children laughing, merchants calling out their wares, the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. Al signs of prosperity that she rarely saw outside the kingdoms, "It's nothing like the reports said," Weiss murmured beside her, her eyes wide with wonder as she stared at a building decorated with actual gold inlay, "This is..."

"Impossible?" Blake asked.

"I was going to say 'remarkable', but yes, that too."

Ruby had darted ahead with Yang, the younger girl practically vibrating with excitement as she examined every weapon shop they passed. It left Blake alone with Weiss, something that would have been uncomfortable just a few weeks ago. Now, after their confrontation about the White Fang, things between them were... not friendly, exactly, but civil. An improvement, even if their relationship was on tenterhooks. At least the heiress hadn't exposed her.

"Look at that," Blake said, gesturing toward a field where workers harvested crops that, from what they'd been told, had grown to maturity in mere minutes, "Do you know how many people this could feed? How many starving communities outside the kingdoms could benefit from something like that?"

Weiss followed her gaze, a calculating gleam in her ice-blue eyes, "The logistics of distribution would be challenging, but yes, the implications are staggering. The SDC has agricultural divisions that would pay fortunes for this technology."

Blake scoffed, "Of course that's where your mind goes. Corporate profit."

"Don't start, Blake," Weiss glared, her voice cooling several degrees, "Agricultural technology that can produce food this quickly would benefit everyone, not just the SDC. Lower food costs, less shipping expense, greater availability-"

"And higher profit margins," Blake cut in.

"Which could be reinvested in better working conditions and safety protocols for all employees," Weiss countered, "Despite what you think, not everything my family does is evil."

"Just most of it," Blake muttered, but let the subject drop. They'd had this argument too many times already. The two continued walking, drifting away from the busier part of town and separating from Yang and Ruby. Blake noticed that unlike in Mistral or Atlas, there wasn't any segregation here. Humans and Faunus worked side by side in the fields, chatted together at market stalls, and shared tables at outdoor cafes. There was none of the tension she was accustomed to seeing, none of the sidelong glances or pointedly ignored presences.

"Have you noticed?" she asked Weiss, nodding toward a mixed group sharing drinks outside a tavern.

"The integration?" Weiss replied, "Yes. It's... unusual for a settlement this far from the kingdoms."

"It's unusual for places inside the kingdoms too," Blake said, "But here it seems natural."

"Perhaps when everyone has enough, there's less reason to fight over scraps," Weiss said thoughtfully, "Or perhaps Jaune Arc simply doesn't tolerate prejudice. The reports said he's responsible for most of this, after all."

And there it was: the real reason they were here. Jaune Arc, the young man whose Semblance had apparently transformed this village into a wonder practically overnight. The person who, according to their briefing, could create almost anything from raw materials with astonishing speed and skill. Blake had her doubts about a single person being responsible for all this. She'd lived long enough to know that when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. But as they walked through Domremy, those doubts became harder to maintain.

"You know," Weiss said, her voice suddenly casual in a way that immediately put Blake on guard, "The SDC could use someone like Jaune Arc."

"I'm sure it could," Blake replied dryly.

"I'm serious. With his abilities, we could revolutionize Dust mining. Make it safer, more efficient. The environmental impact alone would be - "

"Stop," Blake cut her off, irritation flaring, "Just stop. I know what you're thinking, Weiss."

The heiress raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "Oh? Do tell."

"You want to recruit him. You want to bring him back to Atlas so he can help the SDC become even more of a monopoly than it already is."

"I want to help him use his gifts for the greater good," Weiss countered, her voice sharp.

"The greater good?" Blake laughed, a short, bitter sound, "The SDC hasn't cared about the greater good since your grandfather died, and we both know it."

Weiss's face reddened, "That's exactly why I need Jaune's help! With his abilities supporting me, I could make the changes my father never would. Proper safety protocols, fair wages for all workers regardless of species, sustainable mining practices-"

"And what about the Faunus who don't work for the SDC?" Blake asked, "What about the ones living in cramped conditions in Menagerie because the humans pushed them out of everywhere else? The ones facing discrimination every day in the kingdoms? Are they supposed to just wait while the rich get richer?"

"What are you suggesting?" Weiss asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm suggesting that maybe Jaune's abilities could be better used helping the Faunus build a true home in Menagerie. A proper kingdom with defenses that could withstand Grimm attacks, with enough housing and food for everyone. A place where we wouldn't have to hide who we are or live in fear. A place for us to to go so we don't have to contend with being second-class citizens."

"And you don't think that's just as selfish as what you're accusing me of?" Weiss crossed her arms, "You want him to use his abilities exclusively for the Faunus."

"For a people who have been oppressed for generations," Blake replied, "For those who've never been given a fair chance at equality even after we fought and bled for it."

"By creating a separate, segregated kingdom? How does that promote unity between our peoples?" Weiss looked smug, as if it was the 'aha' she was looking for. After all, hadn't the Faunus fought in the Revolution for the right to not be segregated?

"It gives us a position of strength to negotiate from. How do you expect equality when one side has all the power? With a proper kingdom, the Faunus will have a seat at the table. Cause let's not pretend that Atlas doesn't use its army to bully concessions they want." They'd stopped walking, standing in an empty side street while their voices rose with each exchange. This was an old argument for them, one that had played out in various forms since their confrontation in the docks. Neither had budged in their position and both Ruby and Yang learned to just let them air out their grievances.

It was an argument she was getting tired of.

"We've been doing this dance since you found out about who I was." Blake sighed, rubbing her temples, "We're never going to agree."

"Probably not," Weiss pursed her lips, "But that doesn't change the facts. The SDC under my leadership could benefit millions across Remnant. With Jaune's help, we could revolutionize Dust extraction and distribution."

"And Menagerie could become a true sanctuary for my people," Blake countered, "A place where Faunus could live without humans looking down on them or exploiting them."

"So we're at an impasse."

"I suppose we are."

The tense silence between them was broken by the sound of construction. Not the typical bang of hammers or whine of power tools, but something stranger. A rhythmic popping and shifting, like pieces clicking together at impossible speeds.

Blake's curiosity overcame her irritation, "What is that?"

"Let's find out," Weiss replied, clearly just as intrigued.

They followed the sound to a previously empty field at the edge of town. What they saw made them both stop in their tracks. A young man with shaggy blond hair stood in the center of the field, moving with inhuman speed as he constructed what appeared to be a massive barn and silo. His hands blurred as he placed materials - wood, stone, metal - that seemed to appear from nowhere. The structure rose before their eyes, taking shape in minutes rather than the days or weeks it would've needed.

Around him, the earth itself transformed. Tilled soil appeared in neat rows, followed immediately by sprouting plants that grew to maturity in seconds. Wheat, corn, potatoes; an entire farm's worth of crops manifesting in the time it took Blake to blink a few times.

"That's him," Weiss whispered, her voice a mixture of awe and calculation, "That has to be Jaune Arc." Blake could only nod, stunned by the display. The reports hadn't exaggerated; if anything, they'd undersold his abilities. This wasn't just an unusual Semblance. This was something else entirely, something that defied everything she thought she knew about what was possible. Miracles on command. Something that made the fairy tales about magic look like the works of a stage magician.

As they watched, Jaune finished placing the last of the roofing on the barn and stepped back to admire his work. He stretched, rolling his shoulders as if he'd done nothing more strenuous than take a light jog.

"Perfect timing," Weiss murmured, smoothing down her combat skirt and checking her hair, "I should introduce myself. The SDC's reputation might help break the ice."

Blake nearly rolled her eyes. Weiss clearly intended to use her status to impress Jaune, to gain an advantage in securing his help. It was a calculated move, one Blake had seen the heiress employ before. Most people were intimidated or star-struck by the Schnee name. It usually worked. Weiss stepped forward, her posture perfect, a practiced smile on her face. The heiress in her element, prepared to charm and persuade and manipulate.

And then Jaune turned around.

At first glance, he looked unremarkable. Average height, athletic build, friendly face. Almost handsome, but not striking in the way someone with his abilities might be expected to be. He wore simple work clothes: jeans, a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and sturdy boots.

But as he moved, Blake noticed something that had been hidden by his shaggy blond hair: a pair of floppy golden ears that twitched slightly in the breeze.

Dog ears.

Jaune Arc was a Faunus.

Blake's breath caught in her throat as understanding dawned. She glanced at Weiss, whose perfect smile had frozen on her face, her eyes wide with shock. The heiress had clearly been expecting a human, someone she could approach with her usual confidence and social standing. Instead, she was faced with a member of the very race her family's company was notorious for mistreating.

A laugh bubbled up in Blake's throat, impossible to suppress. The irony was too perfect, "Go ahead, Weiss," Blake said, not bothering to hide her grin, "Tell a Faunus how he should help improve a company that treats our race as slave labor. I'm sure he'll be very receptive."

Weiss bristled, her composure fracturing as pink suffused her pale cheeks. For once, the eloquent heiress seemed at a loss for words. Blake reached up and untied her bow, letting her cat ears free in the open air. She rarely did this outside of their dorm room, but here, watching Weiss's carefully constructed plans crumble, she felt safe enough. Besides, she had a feeling it might help in what was to come.

With a satisfied little smile, Blake watched as Weiss gathered herself and stepped forward toward Jaune, "Hello there," Weiss said, her voice overly bright, "I'm Weiss Schnee. My team and I were sent to investigate your very remarkable settlement."

Blake didn't miss the slight falter in Jaune's friendly smile at the name "Schnee." It was subtle - just a momentary twitch at the corner of his lips - but it was there. Every Faunus on Remnant knew the Schnees. They were almost as bad as Mistral when it came to abusing their race. Those two kingdoms were the only ones who could still put up 'No Faunus Allowed' signs without it being considered illegal. Vale, to its credit, tried to be a bit more suble with its prejudice.

"Nice to meet you," Jaune said, extending a hand that Weiss shook perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, "Jaune Arc. Welcome to Domremy." His voice was warm, his manner was friendly, but Blake could tell it was just that. Polite. Nothing more. There was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before Weiss had announced her name. Blake had seen that look countless times before - Faunus being cordial to humans they didn't trust but couldn't afford to offend.

Weiss, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the subtle shift, plowed ahead, "What you've built here is simply remarkable. I've never seen anything like it. The agricultural applications alone must be revolutionary."

"Thanks," Jaune said with a modest shrug, "It just sort of... happens. My Semblance kicked in about six months ago, and things took off from there."

"Six months? All of this in just six months?" Weiss looked genuinely impressed, "The efficiency is astounding. I can imagine how such abilities could transform industries across Remnant."

Blake suppressed a snort. Weiss wasn't being subtle about steering the conversation toward business applications, "I guess," Jaune said, rubbing the back of his neck, his dog ears twitching slightly, "I mostly just wanted to help my hometown. Make sure everyone had enough to eat, safe places to live, that kind of thing."

"Very commendable," Weiss nodded, "But surely you've considered the broader implications? Your abilities could help countless people beyond Domremy."

Jaune's smile remained fixed in place, "That's the hope."

The conversation continued in this vein for several minutes, with Weiss making increasingly transparent attempts to highlight how the SDC could be a vehicle for Jaune's gifts to reach a wider audience. She spoke of resources, distribution networks, and global impact. Jaune nodded politely throughout, occasionally glancing at Blake's exposed cat ears with what seemed like curiosity. But his answers remained noncommittal, his enthusiasm clearly dampened by the Schnee name attached to the proposals.

Weiss's hopes of having Jaune Arc assist her were doomed before they began, but the heiress still insisted on continuing, growing obviously frustrated by his lukewarm responses. When it became obvious that her subtle attempts to endear herself weren't working, Blake decided to step in. She moved forward, extending her hand with a genuine smile.

"I'm Blake Belladonna," she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jaune."

The change was immediate. Jaune's rigid stance relaxed slightly when he saw her ears up close, his smile becoming more natural as he shook her hand, "Another Faunus! Good to meet you too, Blake. Not many cat Faunus in these parts."

"I could say the same for dog Faunus at Beacon," she replied, "Though I usually keep these hidden." She twitched her ears for emphasis.

"I get that," he said, his own ears drooping slightly, "Used to try hiding mine too, when I was younger. Did it every time we left the village to go to the kingdoms. Got tired of it, though."

There was a story there, Blake could tell. One that probably mirrored her own in many ways, "Would you mind showing us more of what you've built?" Blake asked, "This farm is incredible. I've never seen anything like it"

"Sure!" Jaune said, his enthusiasm returning, "I've got a new irrigation system I just finished that's pretty cool."

They began walking, and Blake noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that Weiss had been effectively relegated to following behind them. The heiress' face was a carefully controlled mask, but Blake could see the frustration in her eyes. Weiss Schnee was not someone used to being upstaged.

As they walked, Blake offered genuine compliments, expressing genuine amazement at the ingenious designs Jaune had implemented throughout Domremy. Unlike Weiss's calculated flattery, Blake's admiration came naturally. What Jaune had created was truly remarkable - not for its profit potential, but for how it had improved people's lives. The fact that he was a Faunus made the praise come more easily, much as that was hard to admit.

"You've done amazing things here," she said as they examined a water purification system that could process thousands of gallons per hour, "Everyone seems so happy."

"That's the idea," Jaune replied, his chest puffing up slightly with pride, "No one goes hungry, everyone has good housing, and the defenses keep the Grimm out. It's what every settlement outside the kingdoms dreams of."

Blake nodded. Time to shoot her shot, "Speaking of settlements outside the kingdoms... have you ever been to Menagerie?"

Jaune's expression shifted, his lips curling down in a sympathetic frown, "Not personally, but my dad came from there before he met my mom and they had me and my sisters. He doesn't talk about it much, but when he does..." He shook his head, "Doesn't sound like an easy place to live. Has it gotten any better?"

Blake didn't even have to embellish, "No," she said softly, "If anything, it's worse. More Faunus arrive every year, fleeing discrimination in the kingdoms, but the habitable area hasn't changed. The buildings are cramped together so tightly that a single arsonist could take down half the town. And most of the island is still uninhabitable due to the harsh terrain and dangerous Grimm." The Kingdoms knew exactly what they were doing when they gave the Faunus the island generations ago.

Jaune's ears drooped further, "That's... That's not right. All those people, crowded into such a small area?"

"It's all we have," Blake said, conscious of her use of 'we' but no longer caring to hide it, "The humans gave us an island where only a fraction of the land is actually livable, called it 'compensation' for years of mistreatment, and expected us to be grateful."

"My dad never seemed grateful," Jaune said with a humorless laugh, "Just said it was better than the alternative at the time."

Blake nodded, sensing an opening, "I've been thinking - hoping, really - that someone with your abilities might be able to help. The infrastructure in Menagerie is barely holding together, and the defenses against Grimm are minimal. With your help, it could become a true home for Faunus. A place we could be proud of." Past Jaune, she could see Weiss gnashing her teeth together. If Blake were a pettier person, she would've smirked.

Jaune was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Behind them, Weiss had gone very still, listening intently, "I'd like to see it," he said finally, "Menagerie, I mean. Dad's told me stories, but I should see it for myself. Maybe there's something I could do."

Blake felt a surge of hope, "Would you want to visit? I could arrange it." It would mean seeing her parents again, but she'd suck up any shame she felt for this.

"Yeah," Jaune nodded, his expression resolute, "I wanna see it."

[line break]

James Ironwood stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his office, gazing out at the gleaming spires of Atlas as they floated majestically above the industrial sprawl of Mantle below. The cityscape, usually a source of pride, failed to lift his spirits tonight. The tumbler of whiskey in his left hand - his flesh and blood hand - caught the light as he swirled the amber liquid thoughtfully.

The intelligence reports were spread across his desk behind him. He'd read them three times already, each review only deepening the furrow in his brow.

"Disconcerting" was perhaps too mild a term.

Atlas and Mistral had always maintained surveillance on Menagerie, as had Vale to a lesser extent. It was standard procedure when dealing with a territory that housed a significant portion of the White Fang's sympathizers and recruitment base. James had never particularly liked the necessity, but security concerns trumped personal discomfort. It hadn't been only his body that he'd sacrificed for the sake of the greater good, and it wouldn't be the last.

He took a slow sip of whiskey, feeling the burn trace a path down his throat.

If he was honest with himself - and James prided himself on his honesty, even in private moments - he had never approved of Menagerie's state. The so-called "Faunus homeland" had always seemed more like a reservation than a gift. A place to contain rather than empower.

Not that his opinion on the matter carried much weight. As the General of the Atlesian military and Headmaster of Atlas Academy, he was, alongside Jacques Schnee, one of the faces of what many Faunus considered systemic oppression. Anything he might say now about Menagerie's conditions would be dismissed as empty, meaningless platitudes. Too little, too late.

The whiskey glass clinked against the window sill as he set it down, his attention drawn back to the reports. Menagerie was changing. Rapidly. The ramshackle collection of huts, shacks, and the occasional cabin had transformed into something else entirely over the past three months. The images from their surveillance drones showed new buildings rising at an impossible rate. Not just any buildings - structures that rivaled Atlas's own architectural achievements in both beauty and apparent functionality.

The previously overcrowded coastline had expanded inward, pushing back the boundaries of what had once been considered uninhabitable terrain. Where once there had been dangerous wilderness, there were now orderly streets, defensive walls, agricultural fields, and even what appeared to be industrial complexes.

Jaune Arc and his "Knights" - the autonomous golems he created through his extraordinary Semblance - were systematically terraforming the harsh landscape and eliminating the Grimm that had made so much of the island deadly to settlers. Areas that had been considered lost causes for generations were now being reclaimed at a pace that seemed to accelerate with each passing week.

The glass creaked under James's tightening grip as he picked it up again. Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang, making formal announcements that he was working for the benefit of all Faunus, not for extremists. He'd even helped apprehend several White Fang operatives who had attempted to sabotage his efforts or divert resources. He'd claimed that while he understood their desire to be seen as equal, he refused to support or even imply he approved of their actions.

It should have been reassuring. It wasn't.

Atlas had grown comfortable with its position as Remnant's most technologically advanced and militarily powerful kingdom, a status it had maintained for nearly a century. That position granted them security, influence, and control. All things that James considered essential for humanity's continued survival against the Grimm.

And yet, in just three months, a single Dog Faunus with an anomalous Semblance had begun to close that gap. The rate of advancement in Menagerie was unprecedented. New defensive systems, infrastructure, even what appeared to be research facilities. All created by one man who treated miracles as parlor tricks.

The question that kept James awake at night was simple but haunting: what would Menagerie look like in three years? In five? A fully developed kingdom, perhaps more advanced than Atlas itself, populated almost entirely by a race that half of Remnant's kingdoms had spent generations treating as subhuman and second-class.

The implications were... troubling.

James drained the last of his whiskey, setting the empty glass down with a decisive click. He straightened his tie collar, a habit from his younger days before half his body was replaced with machinery. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Political tensions, resource competition, shifting alliances - all were inevitable consequences of the rapid rise of a new power on Remnant. The balance that had maintained a tenuous peace between the four kingdoms was already showing signs of strain.

He would need to prepare Atlas for whatever came next. And beyond that, he would need to make contact with Arc. Not as an adversary, but as a potential ally. The alternative was unthinkable.

The political ramifications alone were enough to give him a migraine. The Council was in a state of near panic, bombarding him with demands for action, for contingency plans, for intelligence on Arc's capabilities. Jacques Schnee had been calling daily, his thinly veiled threats becoming less veiled with each conversation.

"Sir?" Specialist Schnee's voice cut through his thoughts as she entered his office after a crisp knock, "The Council is assembling for an emergency session in thirty minutes. They're requesting your presence."

"Thank you, Winter," he replied, not turning from the window, "I'll be there." He heard her hesitate, which was unusual for his normally decisive Specialist, "Something on your mind, Schnee?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"Jacques has been making... overtures to certain Council members. He's pushing for military intervention in Menagerie under the guise of 'security concerns.'" James wasn't surprised. Of course Jacques would be the first to call for action. The SDC's monopoly on Dust was under direct threat for the first time in decades. While there was no proof that Arc was mining Dust, the machinery and infastructure he was building didn't seem to need it. If Menagerie were ever to start expanding...

"And what's your assessment of the situation, Specialist?" he asked, finally turning to face her.

Winter's face remained impassive, but he could see the conflict in her eyes, "From a purely military standpoint, sir, Menagerie poses no direct threat to Atlas at this time. Their defenses appear to be largely focused on Grimm, not on repelling kingdom forces. However..." She paused, "The rate of advancement is concerning. If it continues at the current pace, the balance of power in Remnant could shift significantly."

"And from a non-military standpoint?"

This time, Winter's composure cracked slightly, "I believe any aggressive action against Menagerie would be... morally questionable at best, sir. They're simply improving their quality of life, not threatening other kingdoms. Justifying military action would be possible, but other kingdoms could see it as needlessly aggressive and overreaching."

Ironwood nodded, surprised but pleased by her candor, "Thank you for your honesty, Winter. Dismissed."

After she left, James turned back to the view, downing the last of his whiskey in one swift motion. The intelligence reports had included photos - aerial shots of new buildings rising, farmland expanding, walls being constructed. But the images that had stuck with him most were of the Faunus themselves. Children playing in parks that hadn't existed three months ago. Families moving into sturdy homes with electricity and running water. People who had lived their entire lives in overcrowded conditions now having space to breathe, to live with dignity. It was difficult to frame that as a threat, no matter how the Council might try.

And yet... the world was changing too fast. Power structures that had stood for generations were being upended in a matter of months. That kind of rapid change bred fear, and fear bred conflict.

James sighed. Things were going to get worse before they got better. Much worse.

The question was whether Atlas would be on the right side of history when the dust settled.

[line break]

The map of Menagerie spread before her on the table looked nothing like the one she'd memorized years ago. Sienna Khan traced a finger along the new settlements expanding into what had once been uninhabitable territory, her golden eyes narrowing with each inch her finger traversed, "Three months," she said, unable to fully mask the mix of awe and fury in her voice, "He's transformed half the island in just three months."

Across from her, Adam slammed his fist onto the table, causing the map to jump. His Grimm mask couldn't hide the tension in his jaw or the way his entire body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage, "He's a traitor to his own kind," Adam snarled, "A Faunus with power like that - power that could finally bring the humans to their knees - and what does he do? He builds houses and farms. He plays at being a savior while our brothers and sisters continue to suffer in the mines and factories of Atlas."

Sienna didn't disagree, but she maintained her composure. As High Leader of the White Fang, she couldn't afford to display the same unbridled fury as her subordinates, no matter how justified. Control was power, and she never relinquished power willingly.

When they'd first heard rumors of Jaune Arc - a Dog Faunus capable of creating structures and materials at an impossible rate - Sienna had felt something she hadn't experienced in years: hope. Not the grim determination that had sustained her through years of fighting for Faunus rights, but genuine, bright hope. A Faunus with such abilities could change everything. He could arm their forces with weapons that would make Atlas's military look primitive. He could build them bases that no human army could breach. He could, at last, give them the advantage they needed to force humanity to acknowledge their equality.

But then came the news that Arc had publicly disavowed the White Fang. Worse, he had actively helped apprehend White Fang operatives who had attempted to appropriate some of his creations for their cause. She still remembered how shocked she'd been when she heard the news.

And now this. Menagerie, under Ghira Belladonna's weak leadership, had officially designated the White Fang as a terrorist organization. Any Faunus found supporting them would be treated as criminals, denied the benefits of Menagerie's rapid expansion and new prosperity.

"The people support him," she said, voicing the most bitter truth of all, "Our own people have turned against us."

"They're cowards and traitors," Adam growled, "Happy to forget who fought and bled for them all these years."

Sienna's right hand twitched, the only outward sign of her anger, "How quick they are to forget their gratitude," she said, bitterness seeping into her words despite her best efforts, "Five years we've been fighting - sacrificing our lives - to earn them the respect they deserve. And now they turn on us for a few new buildings and the promise of human 'acceptance'."

The White Fang had been the only ones willing to stand up and fight when peaceful protests achieved nothing. When Faunus were still being beaten in the streets of Mistral, denied service in Atlas, paid a fraction of what humans earned for the same work everywhere except Vacuo. The White Fang had struck back, showing humans that there was a price to be paid for such treatment. That they weren't animals to be stamped down on.

And yes, they had spilled blood, had destroyed property, had instilled fear. But it had been working. Slowly, painfully, but undeniably, their tactics had been forcing change. Businesses that discriminated against Faunus found their storefronts shattered. Politicians who pushed anti-Faunus legislation found their homes vandalized and themselves taken by those they abused. Military convoys transporting Faunus prisoners were ambushed and liberated.

Every victory bought with Faunus blood and courage... now being threatened by one dog-eared boy playing builder.

"Our attempts to sabotage his operations have all failed," Sienna said, gesturing to the reports scattered around the map, "His 'Knights' guard his work sites too effectively, and our scientists have made no progress in reverse-engineering any of his creations." It was frustrating beyond measure. They had obtained samples of his materials - weapons, armor, even fragments of buildings - but none of it made sense to their technicians. The materials themselves seemed to defy conventional analysis, as if they operated by different physical laws.

"I want him dead," Adam said, voice flat and cold, "Him and that Belladonna traitor by his side."

Sienna glanced up at the mention of Blake Belladonna. Adam's former protege - perhaps more than that - had been seen constantly at Arc's side these past months, reportedly acting as his guide and advisor on Faunus matters. The girl's defection had clearly become a personal wound for Adam, one that festered and poisoned his judgment.

"No," Sienna said firmly, "Killing him accomplishes nothing. His creations would remain, and he would become a martyr. The great Faunus innovator struck down by 'radical extremists'." She laced the last words with contempt, "It would only push more of our people away from our cause. They would see us as sabotaging our own race."

"Then what do you suggest, High Leader?" Adam asked, not entirely succeeding in keeping the insubordination from his tone.

Sienna stepped closer to the map, her eyes fixed on the location marked as Arc's primary residence - a newly constructed complex near the coast of Menagerie, "We take him," she said, "We show him the truth of what humans have done to our kind throughout history. We make him understand that his gifts belong to his people. His real people, not the humans who would use his abilities and then discard him when he's no longer useful or the the cowards who are content to hide under his skirt rather than fighting for their freedom."

Adam's posture shifted, interested but skeptical, "You think you can convert him to our cause?"

"I think a Faunus can be reminded of his true loyalties," Sienna replied, "And if persuasion fails..." Her lips curled up in a cold smile, "We have other methods. His power is too valuable to waste, even if the vessel that holds it is... misguided."

To refuse to aid the White Fang - to actively work against them - was nothing short of betrayal to their entire race. Arc needed to understand that. The White Fang wasn't just an organization; it was the only real hope for Faunus to achieve the respect and equality they deserved.

Peaceful cooperation had failed for decades. That approach had earned them nothing but empty promises and the "gift" of a barely habitable island where they could be conveniently forgotten. Only through strength, through fear, would humans ever truly see them as equals. The Faunus Revolution wasn't won by picketing and building farms, it was won through blood and sacrifice. By the bravery and strength of those who refused to be treated as animals to corral in a reservation.

Arc was squandering his gifts, building comfortable houses while their brothers and sisters still wore shock collars in Dust mines. He was a race traitor of the worst kind - one with the power to make a real difference, choosing instead to play by human rules.

"We'll need a plan," Adam said, already sounding more focused, "His security is significant, and the Belladonnas are watching for us."

"Then we'll be smarter than they expect," Sienna replied, "We find his weakness. Everyone has one."

She looked once more at the transformed map of Menagerie, imagining how different it could be - how different all of Remnant could be - if Arc's powers were directed toward proper goals. Not just building a comfortable ghetto for Faunus to live in, segregated from the rest of the world, but creating weapons and fortifications that would force humans to the negotiating table. Creating a world where Faunus could walk anywhere without fear, take any job they were qualified for, live wherever they chose.

A world where Faunus children wouldn't grow up learning to fear human cruelty.

"Begin preparations," she said, "I want our best operatives ready to move. We have one chance to do this right."

Adam nodded, a cruel smile forming on his lips, "And the Blake?"

Sienna considered for a moment. The daughter of her predecessor was a complication, but not an insurmountable one,"If she stands in our way, she shares his fate. No one person - no matter their lineage or abilities - is more important than our cause."

She dismissed Adam with a wave, turning back to the maps and reports spread before her. Jaune Arc had changed the game. Now it was her move. If not Menagerie, then that little hamlet he first called home. The one where Humans and Faunus pretended to live in harmony.

Foolish. Jaune Arc was weak, willing to turn the other cheek and forgive and forget rather than leveraging his abilities for all they were worth. He could have ensured Faunus dominance, that the Humans received even a fraction of the pain and humiliation they inflicted, but he didn't. They would use his gifts better than he ever could.

[line break]

The marble beneath Leonardo Lionheart's feet felt cold despite his thick-soled shoes. Mistral's council chambers had always been too cold for his liking. Deliberately so, he suspected. The chamber's tall ceilings and stone columns created an atmosphere of austere grandeur that was meant to intimidate, to remind everyone who entered of Mistral's ancient glory and power.

Leo shifted uncomfortably in his seat at the long table, his lion's tail curled tightly around him beneath his robes. He'd been Headmaster of Haven Academy for nearly twenty years, a position that automatically granted him a seat on Mistral's Council of Seven. A great honor, he was constantly reminded. A Faunus elevated to such a prestigious position. Wasn't that proof that Mistral was progressive, forward-thinking?

He knew better, of course. His position was largely symbolic, a convenient shield against accusations of the systemic discrimination that ran through Mistral's veins like an old poison. Ozpin had pulled strings to get him this position in the hopes that it would improve relations. The immortal fool was either blind or willfully ignorant if he truly believed that.

The six other council members were deep in discussion, voices echoing off the intricately decorated walls. The topic of the day was, unsurprisingly, Menagerie. More specifically, Jaune Arc, "The reports from our intelligence operatives are concerning," Councilor Moss said, adjusting his thin-framed glasses, "Three months ago, Menagerie was a backwater settlement with barely enough infrastructure to support its population. Now..." He gestured to the holographic display at the center of the table, showing aerial images of the rapidly expanding territory.

"Not just expanding," Councilor Thorne added. She was the Minister of Defense, and her sharp eyes missed nothing, "Advancing. Look at these defensive installations. Some of them rival our own coastal fortifications, and they were built in days, not years."

"It's the materials that concern me," said Councilor Wells, the youngest among them at thirty-five. He oversaw Mistral's considerable mining interests, "My engineers can't make sense of the samples we've managed to obtain. They're stronger than anything we can produce, and the Faunus is just... creating them out of raw materials."

Leo noticed how they referred to Jaune Arc as "the Faunus". Not by name, not as a person, but as a curiosity. A tool. A resource to be assessed and, if possible, acquired. His own presence at the table, the medallion of Haven Academy heavy around his neck, suddenly felt even more like a cruel joke than usual.

"What exactly do we know about him?" asked Councilor Drake, Minister of Intelligence, "Background, psychology, potential weaknesses?"

"Born and raised in a small village in Vale's territory," Moss replied, consulting his scroll, "Domremy. Dog Faunus, obviously. No formal combat training, though he's created those 'Knights' of his that apparently serve as effective bodyguards. His Semblance apparently manifested only recently; about nine months ago. Before that, there was nothing remarkable about him."

"And now he's turning that festering island into a proper kingdom," Councilor Vex snorted. He was the oldest among them, a relic of Mistral's more openly prejudiced past, "Giving those animals ideas above their station." Leo's nails dug into his palms beneath the table, but his face remained placid. He'd had decades of practice at hiding his reactions to such casual bigotry.

"The question is," said Councilor Hemlock, who had been silent until now, "What are we going to do about it?" As Prime Minister, his word carried the most weight in the council, though decisions ultimately required majority support.

"We should be reaching out to him," Drake suggested, "Offering incentives to bring his talents to Mistral instead. Imagine what he could do for our infrastructure, our military capabilities. With our foundation, we could surpass Vale and Atlas in a year."

"Before Atlas gets to him," Thorne agreed, "You know James Ironwood won't hesitate to make an offer."

"What could we possibly offer him that would outweigh what he's already doing?" Wells asked, "He's essentially becoming the architect of a new kingdom. What could tempt him away from that?"

Vex laughed, a harsh sound that grated on Leo's ears, "He's a Faunus. He should be grateful for the chance to serve his betters." The old man gestured dismissively, "We'll dangle some promises about reviewing the segregation laws, toss him a medal or two. That should be enough to get him wagging his tail and eager to work for us."

Leo felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. They were speaking this way with him sitting right there - a Faunus Headmaster, supposedly one of their equals. The casual contempt was breathtaking, even after all these years, "I'm not certain such an approach would be effective," he said, speaking for the first time. His voice was mild, careful, "Arc has already demonstrated a commitment to improving conditions for his people. Empty promises might not sway him."

Vex's eyes narrowed, as if just remembering Leo's presence, "Listen to our Faunus expert," he said with a smirk, "Tell us, Lionheart, what would convince one of your kind to abandon his little island paradise and serve Mistral instead?" He said the words, 'your kind', like an insult.

The question was a trap, as they all were. If he suggested something too beneficial to Faunus, he'd be accused of divided loyalties. If he suggested something demeaning, he'd be betraying his own people, "Perhaps genuine respect and fair terms," Leo said evenly, knowing even as he spoke that his words would fall on deaf ears, "Arc's accomplishments speak for themselves. Approaching him as an equal partner rather than a resource to be exploited might be more productive."

"An equal partner," Vex repeated, the words dripping with disdain, "Next you'll suggest we invite him to sit at this very table."

"That's enough, Vex," Hemlock said, though there was no real rebuke in his tone, "Lionheart raises a valid point about approach. We need to be strategic."

The discussion continued, with proposals ranging from diplomatic overtures to economic incentives to more... aggressive measures. No one suggested actually addressing the legitimate grievances of Faunus in Mistral territory. No one proposed real changes to the laws that kept Faunus as second-class citizens at best that might convince Jaune Arc to at least consider listening.

Leo sat in silence, offering only the occasional comment when directly addressed. Each moment in this chamber reminded him why he'd made the choice he had - why he'd accepted Salem's offer. It wasn't just fear, though there was plenty of that. It was also the bone-deep weariness of fighting a losing battle against people who saw him as inherently lesser, no matter his accomplishments.

He had been fighting all his life to prove his worth, to earn respect that should have been freely given. And for what? To sit at a table where his presence was barely tolerated and his voice ignored? To represent a kingdom that spoke of equality while practicing subjugation? What was there to save in Mistral that was worth saving when these six were the ones the people were happy to vote into office? Was he expected to sacrifice himself for those who would spit on his grave?

As the council continued their plotting, Leo's thoughts turned to Jaune Arc. Would they succeed in manipulating him? Would they break him as they had broken so many others? Or would he remain in Menagerie, continuing to build something that might, at last, offer Faunus a genuine home? Leo wasn't sure which outcome he hoped for anymore. All he knew was that when Salem's forces finally came for Mistral, a significant part of him would feel nothing but relief.

"Lionheart," Hemlock's voice cut through his thoughts, "You have connections with Ozpin. What's his position on this Menagerie situation?"

Leo straightened, the practiced lies coming easily now, "He's monitoring the situation closely, of course. I believe he's already had some contact with Arc, though I don't know the details of their discussion." He didn't actually know, of course, but sowing distrust was disgustingly simple.

"Of course he has," Vex muttered, "Always interfering where he doesn't belong."

"Find out what you can," Hemlock said, "We need to know if Vale is already making moves to secure the Faunus's loyalty."

"I'll do my best," Leo agreed, the words hollow in his mouth. He wouldn't even try. A petty little victory against this council of self-important racists.

As the meeting continued, Leo retreated further into himself, nodding and agreeing where expected. His thoughts were elsewhere. On the students at Haven who would soon become casualties in a war they didn't understand, on the people of Mistral who remained blissfully ignorant of what was coming. And, strangely, on Jaune Arc, a Faunus who had found a way to make a difference without compromising himself. Leo wondered what that must feel like.

[line break]

The clockwork mechanisms of Beacon Tower clicked and whirred above Ozpin's head, a steady rhythm that had long ago become white noise to him. The passing of time - something that had once seemed so insignificant to someone of his... unique circumstances - now felt more pressing than it had in decades.

Ozpin took a measured sip from his mug of hot chocolate as he scrolled through the latest intelligence briefing on his scroll. The reports on Menagerie's transformation continued to astound him, even after three months of regular updates. He'd thought his ability to be surprised had dulled over the centuries, but Jaune Arc had proven him wrong in that regard.

The aerial photographs showed a settlement - no, a proper city now - expanding at a rate that defied conventional understanding. New districts, defensive installations, infrastructure networks, research facilities. All created by one young man with an extraordinary Semblance.

If it truly was just a Semblance. Ozpin had his doubts. In all his many lifetimes, he'd never encountered an ability quite like Arc's. The closest comparison might be the magic of humanity before the capricious Brothers commited mass genocide, but even they couldn't match the sheer scope and versatility of what the young Faunus was doing. The power reminded him of something the Brothers could do moreso than Semblance or even magic.

He set his scroll down, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. The headache forming behind his eyes had little to do with the information itself and more to do with its implications.

Atlas, Mistral, even Vale's council - they would all be scrambling now, caught between panic at the rise of a Faunus-dominated power and greed for what Arc's abilities could do for them. James would be viewing this through a military lens, no doubt already calculating how Menagerie's advancements might shift the balance of power. Leonardo, his dear friend, would be caught in an impossible position between Mistral's endemic prejudices and his own Faunus heritage.

And Salem... she would certainly be aware of Arc by now. A person with his abilities would be a prime target for recruitment. Or elimination.

Ozpin needed to speak with the young man. Not for Vale, not for political advantage, but because of what was at stake in the shadow war that had raged for millennia. Arc needed to understand the true threat, to see the bigger picture beyond the immediate concerns of improving Menagerie.

That was easier said than done, however.

Even with his position as Headmaster of Beacon, he doubted Menagerie would simply welcome him and let him speak with their newfound savior. Relations between the island and the kingdoms had never been warm, and recent events had only widened the divide. Ghira Belladonna's government had become notably more assertive in its diplomatic communications, leveraging their new capabilities to demand respect rather than request it.

Vale was far less prejudiced than Mistral or Atlas, it was true. The kingdom prided itself on its more progressive attitudes toward Faunus. But Ozpin knew that the Faunus were far less willing to accept "not as racist as the others" as an excuse these days. They wanted - deserved - genuine equality, not comparative improvements. He took another sip of his drink, allowing himself a moment of regret for opportunities missed, for changes that had come too late. It was a familiar feeling, one he'd carried through countless lifetimes.

But dwelling on the past wouldn't solve the present dilemma. He needed to reach Arc, and for that, he needed an intermediary.

His gaze fell on his scroll, and he tapped the screen to bring up student records. Blake Belladonna's file appeared, complete with her official Beacon photo. The daughter of Menagerie's chieftain, former White Fang member (if his intelligence was correct), and, most importantly, Jaune Arc's apparent confidante.

It was well-known among the faculty that Ms. Belladonna had been spending a significant amount of time in Menagerie between her classes. Arc had apparently created a portal specifically for her use - a shortcut between Beacon and the island that allowed her to maintain her studies while still participating in Menagerie's transformation. Anyone else who attempted to use the portal found themselves unable to pass through, according to Professor Goodwitch's observations. Curious - and perhaps opportunistic - students had tried only to end up crashing into the shimmering portal like it was an impenetrable barrier.

Ozpin sent a brief message to Glynda, asking her to bring Ms. Belladonna to his office after her current class. Then he turned to the window, gazing out at the school grounds below. Students traversed the pathways between buildings, some hurrying to classes, others lounging in small groups beneath the trees. Human and Faunus alike, training to become the protectors of a world that didn't know the full extent of the threats it faced.

The elevator chimed exactly thirty minutes later, announcing Glynda's arrival with Ms. Belladonna. The young woman stepped into his office, amber eyes cautious behind her neutral expression. Now that her Faunus connection was open knowledge, she no longer wore the bow that masked her cat ears.

"Ms. Belladonna," Ozpin greeted her with a nod, "Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat."

She sat stiffly in the chair across from his desk, her posture betraying her wariness, "Professor Goodwitch said you wanted to speak with me."

"Indeed." Ozpin steepled his fingers, "I was hoping to discuss your friend, Mr. Arc."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, "What about him?"

"I'd like to arrange a meeting with him. There are matters of great importance that I believe he should be made aware of."

"Matters concerning Vale?" The suspicion in her voice was unmistakable.

"Matters concerning all of Remnant," Ozpin said gently, "Including Menagerie."

Blake's ears twitched, an obvious tell of her agitation, "Jaune is very busy with the reconstruction efforts. And he's... cautious about meeting with representatives from the kingdoms."

"Understandably so," Ozpin said, "I imagine he's received numerous overtures from various officials, all eager to... benefit from his abilities."

"That's one way of putting it," Blake said dryly.

Ozpin smiled, recognizing the diplomatic phrasing for what it was, "I want to assure you, Ms. Belladonna, that my interest in speaking with Mr. Arc is not about exploiting his talents for Vale's benefit. This is about the Huntsmen, about our shared mission to protect humanity - all of humanity, Human and Faunus alike - from the Grimm."

Blake regarded him silently for a long moment, her expression unreadable, "You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical, Headmaster. Jaune's already had people approach him claiming they only want to help, only to reveal ulterior motives."

"A healthy skepticism is valuable," Ozpin said, "Particularly in times of change. But I hope you know me well enough by now to understand that I hold the safety of my students, of all people, as my highest priority."

He saw the conflict in her eyes, the weighing of trust against caution. Blake Belladonna had not had an easy path to Beacon. Her background in the White Fang, her decision to leave it behind, her struggle to find a new way forward. All of it had shaped her into someone who measured her trust carefully. Had he been more rash (or more like James), he might've used her past in the White Fang as leverage, but he knew that would've been foolish. It would've only driven her away, and with her, any chance of Mr. Arc's trust.

"The Grimm are a threat to us all, Ms. Belladonna," he continued when she remained silent, "Regardless of species, regardless of kingdom, regardless of personal viewpoints. And I believe Mr. Arc deserves to understand the full scope of that threat."

Blake's posture shifted slightly, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, "I'll tell him," she finally said, "I'll let Jaune know that you want to speak with him. But I can't promise anything beyond that. It's his decision."

"That's all I ask," Ozpin said with a nod, "Thank you."

As Blake rose to leave, Ozpin found himself hoping that Arc would agree to the meeting. Not just for the sake of his ancient conflict with Salem, but because he genuinely believed the young Faunus deserved to know what he was potentially walking into. The world was changing rapidly, and Arc was at the center of that change.

Knowledge was power, but it was also protection. And in the coming days, Jaune Arc would need all the protection he could get.

Blake paused at the door, "Professor?"

"Yes, Ms. Belladonna?"

"Jaune isn't naive. He knows everyone wants something from him." Her amber eyes were steady as she looked back at him. "If you're not honest with him, he'll know. And I won't help you reach him a second time."

With that, she slipped out of the office, leaving Ozpin alone with his thoughts. He sighed and finished off the last of his sweet drink. The girl was right, of course. He would need to be more forthcoming with Arc than he typically was with potential allies. The young man's unique abilities and position made the usual half-truths and manipulations too risky. If he failed in this chance, then Jaune Arc's miraculous abilities would be forever lost.

The question was: how much of the truth could he safely share? The burden of knowledge had crushed many promising allies over the centuries. And yet, withholding too much might alienate potentially their most valuable asset in generations.

All he could do now was wait and hope that Arc would agree to meet. The rest would unfold as it always did – move by move, piece by piece, in a game where the stakes were nothing less than the future of every man, woman, and child on Remnant.

[line break]

Uh-oh. Just three months and tension is already flaring. James is caught with the council and Jacques pressuring him, the White Fang are pissed, Leonardo's almost sympathetic, and Ozpin just wants the Salem problem dealt with without a care for the geopolitics. Meanwhile, Blake and the non-terrorist Faunus are making out like bandits.

Mister and Missus Arc-Schnee - Chapter 1

Commission that came from an idea. Jaune and Weiss being a bitter divorced married couple who both end up going back in time. Cue them both trying to fix things while falling in love again as they avert tragedies. Poor Ruby is caught in the middle.

[line break]

Weiss Schnee-Arc's heels clicked aggressively against the marble floor of the courthouse. Each step reverberated with the precision of a metronome and the fury of a woman scorned. Thirty years old, and already getting divorced. Her father would have had a field day with this if he weren't rotting six feet under where Atlas fell.

"Sign here, and here, and initial there," the lawyer droned, pointing at various lines on the document that would officially end five years of what Weiss was now categorizing as "matrimonial hell."

Jaune, the soon-to-be-ex-husband in question, slouched in his chair across the table. At thirty, he still somehow managed to look like that bumbling seventeen-year-old who had incessantly hit on her at Beacon. Except now he was a respected Huntsman, with muscles and confidence and a fan club of swooning girls who sent him cookies and cards addressed to "Beacon's Blond Knight."

"Could you please stop grinding your teeth, Weiss? I can hear it from over here," Jaune said, his blue eyes pleading for some semblance of peace.

"I am not grinding my teeth," Weiss lied, absolutely grinding her teeth. Her dentist would've cried

The lawyer - a portly faunus with mouse ears that twitched nervously at every spike in tension - cleared his throat, "If we could proceed? I have another divorce at three."

"Popular day for heartbreak," Weiss muttered, snatching the pen and signing with the flourish of someone autographing hate mail.

She remembered how it used to be. The early days of their marriage when they would curl up on the couch, his hands in her hair, talking about their future. Before the new revamped SDC demanded sixty-hour work weeks from her. Before Jaune started taking Huntsman missions that lasted months at a time. Before they became two people who happened to occasionally sleep in the same bed instead of husband and wife.

And before she came home last week to find Ruby Rose - her partner, her best friend, her fucking homewrecker - walking out of Jaune's room wearing THEIR hoodie. The blue one with the bunny on it that Weiss had bought him for their first anniversary.

"It's just a hoodie, Weiss," Jaune had insisted, "She was cold, and it was the first thing I grabbed." Cold? In the middle of summer? In Vale? Sure. And beowolves were just misunderstood puppies.

"All done," the lawyer announced, collecting the papers, "Congratulations, you're officially divorced. The split is as agreed - Mr. Arc makes no claim to Schnee Dust Company assets, and Mrs.- I mean, Ms. Schnee makes no claim to Mr. Arc's Huntsman pension." Jaune hadn't fought for anything in the divorce. Not the house, not the vacation property in Vacuo, not even the ridiculous coffee machine he'd insisted they needed. It just confirmed what Weiss already knew - he had already moved on.

With Ruby.

Just like Summer Rose had done with Taiyang after Raven left. The Rose women apparently had a type: blonde, broken, and belonging to someone else. Well, not anymore. She could have him!

"So, that's it?" Jaune asked, standing and awkwardly pushing in his chair. The chair leg caught on the carpet, making a sound like a wounded animal. Clumsy oaf.

"That's it," Weiss confirmed, not looking at him. If she looked at him, she might cry, and Schnees didn't cry in public. It was practically the family motto, right after "Exploit the Faunus" and "Emotional repression builds character."

They walked out of the lawyer's office together, a final act of unity in their lack of it. The summer sun hit Weiss's face like an accusation, too bright and cheerful for the occasion, "Well," Jaune said, rocking back on his heels. He was looking anywhere else but her, "I guess this is goodbye."

"Guess so," Weiss replied, chin high, spine straight, heart breaking. But she refused to give him the satisfaction, "Say hi to Ruby for me. Tell her she can keep the hoodie. I'm sure she already marked her scent on it."

Jaune's face crumpled, "Weiss, there's nothing - "

"Save it," Weiss cut him off, "I'm not blind, Jaune. I've seen how she looks at you. How she's always there when we fight. How she messages you at two in the morning because she 'had a nightmare'." Weiss made aggressive air quotes, "Ruby's been circling like a vulture, waiting for our marriage to die so she could swoop in and feast on the remains."

"That's not fair, and you know it," Jaune argued, his voice taking on that reasonable tone that made Weiss want to stab him with Myrtenaster, "Ruby's our friend. She's been trying to help."

"Help herself to my husband," Weiss snorted. Ex husband, she reminded herself bitterly.

A small crowd was gathering on the steps of the courthouse, several faunus with signs. Probably another protest about faunus rights - Weiss had been working on reforms at the SDC, but centuries of discrimination weren't erased in five years, no matter how many diversity initiatives she implemented. Without Salem, people didn't waste time going back to old conflicts.

"You know what? I'm done," Jaune said, throwing his hands up, "This is exactly why we couldn't make it work. You always assume the worst of people."

"And you're too naive to see what's right in front of your face!" Weiss shot back. The faunus crowd was getting louder, but Weiss was too busy systematically dismantling her ex-husband's character to pay attention.

"Maybe if you'd been home more than three days a month, you would have noticed how our marriage was falling apart!" Jaune's voice rose to match hers.

"Maybe if you'd focused more on your WIFE than your groupies, we wouldn't BE in this situation!" Weiss screamed, feeling her face flush with rage.

"FOR THE WHITE FANG!" someone suddenly shouted from the crowd.

Weiss and Jaune both turned, argument temporarily forgotten. Several faunus ripped open their jackets, revealing vests packed with Dust crystals wired to crude detonators. The red crystals glowed ominously in the sunlight. Her hands went to her side and only found air. She'd left Myrtenaster in her car because weapons were forbidden in the courthouse. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Weiss!" Jaune's eyes widened in alarm.

In that moment, as her ex-husband lunged toward her, Weiss had two thoughts:

First: Even in divorce, his timing is terrible.

Second: I'm going to die in last season's boots.

Jaune's body slammed into hers as the world exploded in a blinding flash of white.

[line break]

Weiss woke up with a scream. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped Nevermore, and she bolted upright with a gasp that felt like her first breath after drowning, "The courthouse-" she blurted to the empty room, her hand flying to her chest.

Memories crashed through her mind with the force of a derailed Dust train. The divorce papers. Jaune's sad puppy dog eyes. The Faunus terrorists. The explosion. Jaune throwing himself over her in one final, infuriating act of chivalry. Weiss blinked rapidly, trying to orient herself. This wasn't a hospital. It wasn't her penthouse in Mistral with its minimalist decor and view of the city skyline. It wasn't even the modest but comfortable home she'd shared with Jaune before everything imploded spectacularly (both literally and figuratively).

She was in a bedroom. A very specific bedroom.

"No," she whispered, her voice sounding wrong in her ears. Higher. Softer, "No, no, no." Weiss swung her legs over the edge of the bed, noticing immediately how much shorter they seemed. Her feet barely grazed the plush white carpet. When she stood, a wave of vertigo sent her stumbling, as if her body didn't match the movements her brain was commanding, "This isn't possible," she muttered.

The ice-blue walls. The ornate four-poster bed with its pristine white comforter. The framed oil painting of the Schnee family - looking miserable in their finery with only Whitley smiling - hanging on the wall. The silver hairbrush on the vanity that had been a gift from Klein on her twelfth birthday. The same one that had been lost in the rubble in Atlas' fall.

Weiss knew this room intimately. She'd spent seventeen years of her life trapped in it, after all.

She moved toward the bathroom with the cautious steps of someone crossing a minefield, bracing herself for what she might see. The marble floor was cold beneath her bare feet, familiar and alien all at once. When she flipped on the light and faced the mirror, the reflection staring back nearly made her knees buckle.

"By the Brothers..." she breathed.

Gone was the confident, poised woman of thirty with stress lines beginning to form around her eyes and a permanent furrow between her brows from years of boardroom battles. Gone was the distinctive scar that had bisected her left eye - a mark earned in battle and worn as a badge of honor. Instead, she saw a girl. A child, really. Fourteen, maybe fifteen at most. Pale, unblemished skin. Hair a pristine white, pulled back in a side ponytail that she hadn't worn since her Beacon days. Eyes wide with shock, showing far more vulnerability than Weiss Schnee had allowed herself in nearly two decades.

"This can't be happening," she whispered to her reflection, which perfectly mimicked her mounting panic. She pinched her cheek hard enough to leave a red mark. The pain was sharp and immediate.

Not a dream, then.

A high-pitched melody broke the silence, making Weiss jump so violently she nearly slipped on the marble floor. Her scroll - an older model, she realized with growing dread - was chiming from the bedside table. She approached it like it might transform into a King Taijitu, gingerly picking it up with trembling fingers that seemed far too small and delicate. The notification light blinked an urgent blue.

One new message from Winter. Weiss swiped the screen, her muscle memory still intact despite the years (or lack thereof).

Reminder: Training begins at 0700 hours. Do not be late. Remember what you're fighting for. Your place at Beacon Academy depends on your performance. I expect nothing less than excellence.

- Winter

Weiss sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, scroll clutched in her hand like a lifeline.

Beacon. She hadn't even started at Beacon yet. Which meant-

"I'm back before everything," she whispered, her analytical mind racing to calculate the implications, "Before the Fall, before Salem, before-"

Before Jaune. Before Team RWBY. Before the Fall of Beacon and the Battle of Haven and the Siege of Atlas. Before she knew what it meant to have real friends... and real enemies. She pinched her thigh viciously, harder this time, twisting the pale skin until tears sprang to her eyes. The pain was sharp, immediate, and utterly real.

"Time travel," she said, the words feeling ridiculous on her tongue, "Or I've gone completely insane. Either option seems equally plausible at this point."

Weiss stood again, more steady this time as she paced the length of her childhood prison. If she was truly back in time, before Beacon, that meant she had approximately two to three years before she would even meet Ruby, her homewrecking future(?) best friend. Before she hoped to be paired with Pyrrha Nikos - dear, doomed Pyrrha - during initiation, only to end up with Ruby as her partner instead. Before she would meet the bumbling, scraggly-haired boy who would someday become her husband.

Ex-husband.

"Focus, Weiss," she muttered, the habit of self-criticism coming back as naturally as breathing, "If this is real, then you need a plan." She walked to the window, pulling back the curtain to reveal the sprawling Schnee estate blanketed in snow. Atlas. Still floating in the sky, pristine and unbroken. A city that in her timeline had crashed into the ground, taking gods only knew how many lives with it despite their attempts to evacuate.

"I can change things," she realized, her heartbeat quickening with the enormity of the thought, "I know what's coming. The Breach. The Fall. The Relics. Salem." A strange, giddy laugh bubbled up from her chest. It was all so absurd, and yet- what an opportunity. To fix the mistakes of the past, to save lives, to prevent catastrophes.

And to absolutely destroy her father.

Jacques Schnee. Still alive in this timeline. Still ruling the SDC with an iron fist dripping with faunus blood and corruption. Still psychologically torturing his children while presenting a polished public image. A slow, predatory smile spread across Weiss's face. An expression that would have looked utterly foreign on the fifteen-year-old girl she appeared to be, but felt perfectly natural to the woman she really was.

"Oh, Father," she murmured, the word coated in ice, "You have no idea what's coming."

She had decades of corporate knowledge, insider trading information, and the exact details of every illegal scheme her father had ever concocted. She knew which board members were loyal and which could be swayed. She knew about the secret accounts in Vacuo, the backdoor deals with dust smugglers, the bribes to council members. It would be difficult to getk but not impossible. Not with the exact details she knew.

And most importantly, she knew exactly how to use all of it to systematically dismantle Jacques Schnee's empire and reputation, piece by precious piece.

The dizzying possibilities stretched before her like an open road. She could save Pyrrha. Prevent the Fall of Beacon. Expose Cinder's plans before they ever came to fruition. Protect Penny. Keep the Relics safe from Salem's cabal.

She could even, the thought came unbidden, avoid the mistake of marrying Jaune Arc in the first place.

"No," she said firmly, pushing away thoughts of blue eyes and clumsy proposals, "Focus on what matters."

First, her father. Then, saving the world.

Her scroll chimed again - a reminder that she had training in twenty minutes. Weiss straightened her shoulders, chin lifting in the practiced Schnee posture that had been drilled into her since childhood. She might look like a teenage girl, but inside, she was Weiss Schnee-Arc - no, just Schnee now - CEO of the largest Dust company in Remnant, veteran Huntress, and one of the saviors of the world.

"Time to remind Winter what a Schnee is truly capable of," she said with a smirk, heading to her closet to select an outfit for her first day in this second chance at life.

Another memory came unbidden. Their wedding day. Walking down the aisle, Ruby - that traitor - as her maid of honor. Winter, Whitley, Mother and the rest of their friends joining them for that one beautiful day. She remembered seeing Jaune standing by the altar looking at her swith a smile that could melt Solitas snow. She'd been so convinced back then that she'd found the one.

She thook the thought away and replaced it with another that crystallized with perfect clarity: this time, everything would be different.

[line break]

Jaune's eyes snapped open to the sound of someone singing an off-key rendition of "Shine" by The Achieve Men. For one disorienting moment, he thought he was back in the JNPR dorm room with Nora belting out lyrics while Ren silently suffered beside her.

Then the memories hit him like a charging Boarbatusk. The courthouse, the White Fang terrorists, the explosion, Weiss's look of absolute fury turning to shock as he lunged to protect her...

"Weiss," he croaked, his voice cracking in the middle of the word.

Wait. His voice cracked?

Jaune pushed himself up, immediately noticing that something was very, very wrong. His arms felt too long for his body. His chest, which had sported well-defined muscles from years of Huntsman work, felt flat and unremarkable beneath his pajama top. Speaking of which. He glanced down. Was this his Pumpkin Pete onesie?

"What the hell?" he muttered, scrambling out of bed and promptly tripping over feet that seemed determined to betray him. He crashed to the wooden floor with all the grace of a tranquilized Ursa.

From down the hall, a female voice called out, "Jaune? Are you okay in there?"

That voice. It was impossible. It couldn't be-

"I'm fine, Mom!" Jaune shouted back automatically, then clapped a hand over his mouth. Mom? His mother had died during the Atlas evacuation. She'd been visiting along with Saphron when the city fell. The grief had nearly destroyed him, and only Weiss's quiet, steady presence had pulled him through those dark months.

Weiss, who'd just finalized their divorce when the world literally exploded around them.

Heart pounding, Jaune staggered to his feet and looked around. This wasn't his apartment in Vale. It wasn't the hospital room he would have expected after an explosion.

It was his childhood bedroom in Domremy.

Video game posters plastered the walls. A shelf of comic books sagged in the corner. The battered acoustic guitar he'd never learned to play properly leaned against the desk. On the bedside table sat a worn, dog-eared copy of X-Ray and Vav: The Ultimate Collection, "This isn't possible," he whispered, making his way to the small mirror hanging on the back of his door.

The reflection staring back made him stumble backward until his knees hit the bed.

The face that stared back at him made him release a strangled sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. Gangly limbs, narrow shoulders, a face free from the scar that should have run along his jawline (courtesy of a particularly nasty Beowolf during a mission in Vacuo). And most notably, not a hint of the beard he'd grown after the divorce. The beard Nora had described as his "divorced dad beard" (nevermind that he wasn't a father).

He was fifteen again. Maybe even fourteen.

"I've gone back in time," Jaune said to his reflection, which looked appropriately horrified at the prospect, "Or I'm having the most detailed dying hallucination in the history of dying hallucinations."

He pinched himself hard on the arm.

"OW!" he hissed, "Okay, so not a hallucination. Unless hallucinations can feel pain, which seems unfair."

He paced the small bedroom, nearly tripping over discarded comic books and a half-eaten sandwich that really shouldn't have been on the floor in the first place. His mind raced through possibilities, each more ridiculous than the last.

"Time travel. Actual, literal time travel," he finally said, running his hands through hair that was shaggier than he'd worn it in years, "Because apparently explosive divorce proceedings can tear holes in the space-time continuum. That seems reasonable."

Jaune sank down onto his bed, the ancient springs creaking ominously under even his negligible teenage weight. If he really had traveled back in time, that meant he was years away from Beacon. Years away from meeting Ruby and Yang and Blake. Years away from being paired with Pyrrha.

Pyrrha.

"She's alive," he whispered, the realization hitting him like a charging Boarbatusk, "Pyrrha's still alive." A complicated wave of emotions swept through him. Grief for his first partner, who had died far too young. Guilt for the year he'd spent oblivious to her feelings. And a strange, uncomfortable pang when he thought about Weiss; his ex-wife as of approximately thirty minutes and one temporal explosion ago.

"Weiss," he said, the name feeling different on his teenage lips, "Did she...?" No, that was impossible. Just because he'd been thrown back in time didn't mean Weiss was too. She was probably still on those courthouse steps. Or more likely, given the bombs, in some kind of afterlife. The thought made his chest ache. For all their fighting, for all the harsh words and broken promises, he did love her.

"Focus, Jaune," he muttered, channeling his inner Weiss with disturbing accuracy, "If this is real, you have a second chance. You can change things." He could save Pyrrha. He could prevent the Fall of Beacon. He could warn everyone about Cinder and Salem and the Relics.

He could even, the thought came with a pang of both relief and regret, avoid the mistake of marrying Weiss in the first place.

Their marriage had been doomed from the start, hadn't it? Two people with completely different priorities, trying to force a relationship work while the world pulled them in opposite directions. Weiss with her company, him with his Huntsman duties. Both of them too stubborn to compromise, too proud to admit when they were wrong.

And then there was the whole Ruby situation, which was a complete misunderstanding that Weiss had blown wildly out of proportion. Ruby had just been returning his hoodie after borrowing it during a mission when her cloak got torn. That was it. But try telling that to Weiss when she was in full ice queen mode.

"Nope," Jaune said firmly, cutting off that train of thought before it could spiral into another imaginary argument with his ex-wife, "Not going down that road again. This time, it'll be different."

He stood up with newfound determination, stumbling slightly as his gangly teenage limbs betrayed him. He caught himself on the edge of his desk, knocking over a stack of brochures for combat schools and Huntsman academies. Schools he'd never actually attended before faking his way into Beacon. He'd just been a lazy teenager with dreams of heroics without the drive to actually earn it.

The sight of them sparked an idea.

"No more fake transcripts," he said, picking up one of the brochures, "I know how to fight now. Well, my brain knows how to fight. My body's still..." He glanced down at his skinny arms and sighed, "...A work in progress."

But he had time. If he was truly back before Beacon, he had at least a couple of years to train properly this time. To build up the strength and skills he'd eventually developed under Pyrrha's tutelage - and later, as a full-fledged Huntsman. He could pass the entrance exams legitimately. No lies, no shortcuts, no endangering his friends because he wasn't prepared.

"And no Weiss," he added, trying to sound firm rather than wistful, "Definitely no Weiss this time around."She wouldn't remember their relationship. Their marriage. Their divorce. She'd just be that snippy heiress who looked down her nose at him from day one.

The thought was oddly depressing.

"It's for the best," Jaune told himself, reaching for Crocea Mors. Dad didn't really care for it and he let them take it out of the fireplace whenever they wanted. Really, it was just him, though. No one else in the family dreamed of being Huntsmen or fighters. The sword felt both foreign and familiar in his grip. Lighter than he remembered, but perfectly balanced,

He swung the sword experimentally, his muscle memory at odds with his underdeveloped physique. He nearly took out his desk lamp but managed to correct at the last second.

"Okay, so that needs work," he muttered with a grimace.

Jaune looked out his window at the pre-dawn sky, the first hints of sunlight just beginning to peek over the horizon. Most of the family would still be asleep for another hour at least. Plenty of time to start his new training regimen.

"Time to get to work," he said , changing out of his bunny onesie and into the closest thing he owned to workout clothes, "This time, I'm doing everything right."

He paused at his bedroom door, one last thought of Weiss flashing through his mind. Her face on their wedding day, snowflakes caught in her eyelashes as she smiled up at him. It had been the happiest day of his life.

Jaune shook his head, pushing the memory away. He slipped out into the hallway, Crocea Mors clutched in his determined grip, ready to begin rewriting history one proper sword swing at a time.

[line break]

Ruby couldn't believe it. After years of training at Signal, after all those nights staying up late reading weapon magazines and practicing with Crescent Rose until her arms felt like noodles, she was finally here. Beacon Academy! Two years early! She almost wanted to thank Torchwick for being a jerk and trying to rob that store.

The airship landed, and Ruby was practically vibrating with excitement as she descended the ramp, silver eyes wide and sparkling at the sight of the towering spires and amazing architecture, "Oh my gosh, Yang! Look at that girl's collapsible staff! And that guy has a fire sword! Is that a gun-axe? IT'S A GUN-AXE! Just like mom!" Ruby bounced on her toes, pointing wildly at every weapon in sight, her enthusiasm threatening to launch her into the stratosphere. Yang, her long-suffering older sister, placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Easy there, Rubes. They're just weapons." Yang rolled her eyes

Ruby gasped, clutching her chest as if mortally wounded, "Just weapons? JUST WEAPONS? They're extensions of ourselves! They're part of us! Oh, they're so cool..."

Yang chuckled, running a hand through her blonde hair, "Well, why don't you go make some friends instead of gawking at their gear?"

"Huh? Why would I need friends when I have you?" Ruby asked, suddenly feeling the familiar anxiety of being thrust into a new, ugh, social situation. Meeting new people was hard. Weapons were easy. Weapons didn't judge you or think you were weird for being obsessed with weapons. If they could talk, they would've been thanking her for being so nice to them.

"Wellllll," Yang drawled, backing away slowly as a group of her friends from Signal appeared behind her, "Actually, my friends are here now. Gotta go catch up. 'Kay, see ya, bye!"

And just like that, Yang was gone in a swirl of blonde hair and casual betrayal, leaving Ruby spinning literally and figuratively.

"Wait! Where are you going? Where are we supposed to go?! Yang?!" Ruby called after her TRAITOROUS sister, nervous dizziness overtaking her as she stumbled backward, "I don't know what I'm doing..."

Ruby teetered dangerously, about to fall directly into someone's luggage, when an arm shot out and yanked a briefcase away from her path. Ruby caught herself at the last second, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ground.

"Not this time," came a crisp, snobby voice. Ruby looked up to see a girl dressed in pristine white, with pale skin and hair like freshly fallen snow pulled back in an off-center ponytail. She was pretty in the way expensive statues were. A little cold, a little perfect, and a little intimidating. Even had the same color palette.

"Um, I'm sorry?" Ruby said, straightening her red cloak, "I didn't mean to almost fall on your... stuff."

The white-haired girl was staring at her with an intensity that made Ruby want to check if she had cookie crumbs on her face. There was something weirdly... knowing in that gaze, like the girl was seeing someone else when she looked at Ruby.

"Right. Well." The girl seemed to catch herself, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her combat skirt, "I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company." She paused, then corrected herself, "Co-CEO, actually."

"Oh! I'm Ruby! Ruby Rose. It's nice to meet-"

"We're going to be partners for the next four years," Weiss interrupted, her tone leaving no room for debate. It wasn't a suggestion or even a prediction. It was a command, like a Queen telling some peasant an order.

Ruby blinked owlishly, "Wait, what? How do you know-"

"And I'll be keeping an eye on you," Weiss continued, narrowing her ice-blue eyes, "Homewrecker."

Ruby's mouth fell open. Of all the bizarre introductions she'd imagined having at Beacon, being called a home-destroying epithet by a total stranger hadn't even made the list, "What the heck is that supposed to mean?!" Ruby sputtered, her voice rising an octave, "I've never wrecked a home in my life! Well, except for that one time with Zwei and the blender, but that was an accident and it was only the kitchen, not the whole house, and I don't even know you!"

Before Weiss could respond - and judging by her expression, she had something planned - another voice cut in, "I'm surprised the new co-CEO of the Schnee Dust Company is attending Beacon at all," said a girl with long black hair, amber eyes, and a black bow perched atop her head. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed and expression cautious, "Shouldn't you be too busy exploiting faunus labor?"

Instead of bristling at the accusation like Ruby expected, Weiss merely smiled. It was a sharp smile, the kind that reminded Ruby of Uncle Qrow right before he sliced a Beowolf in half, "Whitley and my mother can handle the company for now," Weiss replied coolly. Then, without missing a beat, she added, "Oh, and by the way? Do take off that bow. You're not fooling anyone, Belladonna."

The black-haired girl gasped, one hand flying protectively to her bow as her amber eyes widened in alarm, "How do you-"

Weiss rolled her eyes dramatically, "You didn't even bother to change your last name. Who do you think you're fooling?" She adjusted the collar of her bolero jacket with meticulous precision, "And before you start on your tirade about faunus treatment under the SDC, I'm dealing with it, okay? I only took over three years ago. Decades of oppression can't be fixed with a snap of your fingers." She snapped for emphasis, "So if you have any lectures about how I'm draping myself in blood money? Shut it."

And with that, Weiss snatched up her briefcase, spun on her heel with military precision, and strode away, leaving behind the faint scent of expensive perfume and utter confusion. Ruby and the bow-wearing girl - Belladonna, apparently - stared after her retreating figure, then turned to each other with matching expressions of bewilderment.

"What. The. Heck. Was. THAT?!" Ruby shouted, throwing her arms up, "Did you know her? Does she know you? Why did she call me a homewrecker? I'M FIFTEEN! I don't even know how to wreck a home!" She knew how to wreck faces, but a home? Who did that?

The dark-haired girl shook her head slowly, amber eyes still wide with shock, "I've never met her before in my life," she said quietly, "But she knew..." She trailed off, hand still protectively hovering near her bow.

"Knew what?" Ruby asked.

"Nothing," the girl replied quickly. Then, as if remembering her manners, she extended a hand, "I'm Blake. Blake Belladonna."

"Ruby Rose," Ruby replied, shaking Blake's hand, "Did that Weiss girl seem... weird to you? Like, not just rich-girl weird, but like... she knew things she shouldn't know?"

Blake nodded slowly, "Very weird. It was like she was having a completely different conversation than we were." She glanced in the direction Weiss had disappeared, "How did she know about- ugh,never mind."

Ruby kicked at the ground with the toe of her boot, "Well, this is a great start to my first day at Beacon. My sister abandons me, I almost faceplant in front of everyone, and some random girl who's apparently a CEO calls me a homewrecker and decides we're going to be partners." She sighed dramatically, "At least it can't get any weirder, right?"

Blake raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't count on that."

"So, uh, I'm gonna head to the auditorium," Ruby said, backing away from Blake, "It was nice meeting you! Good luck with your... bow situation?" She flicked her eyes upwards. Did...Did it just twitch?

Blake gave her a flat look, "Thanks."

"Cool, cool, cool," Ruby said, finger-gunning awkwardly as she continued her tactical retreat, "See ya around!"

Oh my gosh, she was such a dork, Ruby thought, cringing at herself as she speed-walked away. Finger guns? Really? Dad would be so proud and that's, like, the worst part. Ruby pulled her hood up, trying to make herself as small as possible. All she wanted was to find Yang, maybe hide behind her for the rest of orientation, and definitely avoid that scary Weiss girl who'd called her a homewrecker, whatever that was supposed to mean.

She was so busy looking down at her boots and mentally replaying her social failure that she didn't notice the tall boy until she slammed right into his chest. She grunted, bouncing off him like a rubber ball and landing flat on her butt.

"Whoa! Sorry about that," said a voice from above her. A hand appeared in her field of vision, "Need a hand?"

Ruby looked up to see a tall, lanky boy with messy blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wearing jeans and a black hoodie with armor pieces strapped over it, a sword slung over his right hip, "Thanks," Ruby said, grabbing his hand and letting him pull her up, "I wasn't looking where I was going. Too busy hiding from the crazy white-haired girl who thinks I'm going to destroy her house or something."

The boy froze for a split second, then laughed a little too loudly, "Crazy white-haired girl, huh? That's, uh, that's something." Ruby narrowed her eyes. There was something weird about the way he said it, like he knew exactly who she was talking about, "I'm Jaune," he said quickly, cutting off her thoughts, "Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue." He paused, wincing like he'd just said something embarrassing, "I mean, that's my name. Just my name. Not a pickup line or anything. Definitely not hitting on you."

"Okaaaaay," Ruby said. This day was just getting weirder and weirder, "I'm Ruby. Ruby Rose."

Jaune nodded, like her name confirmed something he already suspected, "Nice to meet you, Ruby. Are you headed to the auditorium?"

"I guess so. Wanna walk together? I don't actually know where it is, and my sister ditched me, and I'm kind of having the worst first day ever."

"Sure," Jaune said, gesturing ahead, "It's this way. And don't worry, my first day's been pretty weird too."

They started walking, and Ruby found herself relaxing a bit. At least Jaune seemed normal-ish, even if he was being super careful with his words. Like he was tiptoeing through a minefield or something, "So," she said, desperate to fill the silence, "I've got this." She whipped out Crescent Rose, the massive scythe unfolding with a series of satisfying mechanical clicks until it towered over both of them.

Jaune jumped back, but not as far as most people did. Actually, the way he jumped was weird too. Like he did it because he was supposed to, "Whoa! Is that a scythe?"

"It's also a customizable, high-impact sniper rifle," Ruby said proudly.

"A gun-scythe," Jaune said, nodding, "That's... exactly what I'd expect from you."

Ruby frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing!" Jaune said quickly - a little too quickly, "Just that, you know, it's a cool weapon. Really fits your... aesthetic."

He was doing it again. Choosing his words super carefully, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Like he knew her already, which was impossible unless... "Did Yang put you up to this?" Ruby scowled, "Is this some kind of prank? Send the socially awkward weirdo to talk to Ruby so she feels better about how she can't make any friends?"

"What? No!" Jaune protested, looking genuinely confused, "I barely know Yang- I mean, I don't know Yang at all. Who's Yang? Your sister, right? The one who ditched you? That's what you said earlier. Not that I know anything about her. Because I don't. At all."

Ruby stared at him. He was sweating now. Actually sweating, "You're being super weird," she said.

Jaune sighed, shoulders slumping, "Yeah, I know. Sorry. First day nerves, I guess."

"It's okay," Ruby said, expression softening, "I'm basically a walking ball of awkward myself. So what's your weapon?"

Jaune seemed to relax at the question. He drew his sword, the motion smooth and practiced, "Pretty standard stuff. Sword and collapsible shield. My great-grandfather used it in the war."

Ruby couldn't help the little snort that escaped her, "Retro." Not that she was AGAINST the classics, of coruse, but mechashift was just...it was the dream. Besides, what kind of weapon didn't have an explosive component nowadays?

"It gets the job done," Jaune said with a shrug, but there was something in his eyes that suggested more.

They continued walking, chatting about weapons and how overwhelming Beacon was. Ruby was just starting to think she might have made her first actual friend when a familiar, icy voice cut through the air.

"Getting started early, hm? Typical. Horny cheating bastard."

Ruby and Jaune both froze, turning slowly to see Weiss Schnee standing there, arms crossed and one white eyebrow raised so high it was practically touching her hairline. Her lips were pursed in an expression of supreme disapproval. Ruby suddenly felt smaller than she already was.

Jaune's face went from normal to tomato-red in about half a second, "I said nothing happened!" he blurted out.

Ruby's brows furrowed. What did he mean by that? She glanced between them, completely lost, "Uh, do you guys know each other or-"

But neither of them was listening to her. Weiss's eyes had gone as wide as dinner plates, and so had Jaune's. They were just... staring at each other. Not saying a word. But it was like they were having this whole intense conversation with just their eyeballs. It was the weirdest thing Ruby had ever seen, and she'd once caught her dad trying to teach Zwei to play poker.

The worst part? Dad was losing three hands in.

The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. Weiss's mouth opened and closed like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Jaune kept making these little aborted hand gestures like he was trying to communicate in some secret code. Ruby took a step back, hoping to slip away unnoticed. This was clearly some kind of... whatever this was... that she didn't want any part of.

But the second she moved, Weiss's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, "No," Weiss said, her voice weirdly intense, "Let's go together. To the auditorium. I insist." She was still staring at Jaune, not even looking at Ruby.

"Uh, do you two, like, know each other?" Ruby asked, glancing between them.

"No," they said in perfect unison, still locked in their bizarre staring contest.

Weiss finally tore her gaze away to look at Ruby, "I simply have a very poor opinion of pathetic wannabe knights who think they're all that. I can see he's already imagining having fanclubs."

"And I think stubborn stuck-up rich girls suck," Jaune shot back, glaring at Weiss with an intensity that seemed way over-the-top for someone he supposedly didn't know, "She obviously thinks she knows better than everyone else."

Weiss's grip on Ruby's arm tightened, "Well, we should get going. Come along, Ruby."

"But I was walking with-"

"We're going to be late," Weiss insisted, already pulling Ruby away.

Ruby looked back at Jaune helplessly. He seemed torn between following them and running in the opposite direction, "I guess I'll... see you at the auditorium?" she said.

Jaune nodded, his face a complicated mix of emotions that Ruby couldn't even begin to decode, "Yeah. See you there."

As Weiss dragged her away, Ruby couldn't help but feel like she'd just witnessed something super important but had absolutely no idea what it was. Like walking into the middle of a movie where everyone knew the plot except her, "So, uh, that was awkward," Ruby ventured, trying to reclaim her arm from Weiss's death grip. It didn't work.

"He's an idiot," Weiss said, but there was something weird in her voice. Something that didn't sound like she was talking about a stranger.

"Okaaaay," Ruby said slowly, "And you know this because...?"

"I can tell," Weiss snapped, "I have excellent judgment of character."

Ruby wasn't convinced, "Then why did you call me a homewrecker earlier? I don't even know what that means! Well, I mean, I know what it means, but I've never wrecked anyone's home! I have, like, zero wrecking balls. No home destruction equipment at all."

Weiss finally let go of Ruby's arm, giving her an appraising look, "It was... pre-emptive."

"Pre-emptive home wrecking? Is that, like, a construction term? Are we demolishing buildings? Because that sounds fun, actually." What? She picked up a few things from Yang.

For a second, Ruby thought she saw the corner of Weiss's mouth twitch upward, but it was gone so fast she might have imagined it, "You're exactly like I expected," Weiss muttered, more to herself than to her.

"Is that... good?"

"It's predictable," Weiss said, which wasn't an answer at all.

They reached the entrance to the auditorium where students were already filing in. Weiss paused, looking back toward where they'd left Jaune. Her expression was impossible to read - part anger, part confusion, part something else entirely. Not the look you'd give someone you just met.

Ruby followed her gaze just in time to see Jaune approaching, his eyes locked on Weiss with the same weird intensity. It was like watching two cats about to either fight or... well, Ruby wasn't sure what the alternative was, but it was super uncomfortable to witness.

"Um, I'm gonna go find my sister," Ruby said, backing away from whatever tension-filled bubble Weiss and Jaune were creating, "You two can... continue your not-knowing-each-other thing without me."

Neither of them seemed to hear her. They were back to their silent staring communication, completely oblivious to Ruby or the crowd of students streaming around them. Ruby shook her head and slipped into the auditorium, taking her shot before Weiss grabbed her again. Whatever was going on between those two weirdos, she wanted no part of it. She'd had enough strange encounters for one day.

[line break]

Weiss watched as Ozpin finished his little speech about team assignments, her face a perfect mask of polite interest despite the whirlwind of thoughts ricocheting around her head, "Ruby Rose, Jaune Arc, Weiss Schnee, and Pyrrha Nikos. The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team RJWP." Ozpin's eyes crinkled slightly, "Pronounced 'Rejewel.' Led by... Ruby Rose."

Ruby gasped beside her, silver eyes widening to comical proportions. Pyrrha clapped politely, red ponytail swinging as she beamed at her new teammates. And Jaune - the infuriating, impossible, apparently-also-time-traveling Jaune - had the audacity to grin like he'd seen this coming. Of course he had. Because he apparently remembered everything just like she did.

Rejewel. How fitting for their second chance. Ozpin couldn't have known that, of course, but the man always was absurdly prescient in the most absurd things. Couldn't figure out Cinder was a spy, but did know where Qrow kept his secret stashes.

Their do-over. Their opportunity to fix the colossal mess that was the future they'd left behind.

A future where they'd been unhappily married and then explosively divorced. Literally.

Weiss forced herself to smile as Ruby did an excited little hop beside her. She'd miss being on a team with Blake and Yang, but this was actually more convenient. She could keep an eye on Ruby and Pyrrha (and Jaune) this way, and she could still befriend Yang and Blake. Besides, Blake and Yang had made out like bandits in the future (past? time travel semantics were giving her a headache). Their relationship had been the only solid one in their friend group, disgustingly happy even when the world was crumbling around them. They'd be fine.

"This is so cool!" Ruby squealed, practically bouncing, "We're going to be the best team ever!"

"I look forward to working with all of you," Pyrrha said with that perfect, polite smile that Weiss now recognized as her public persona. The real Pyrrha - the one who would emerge with time and trust - was much more fun. And much more alive this time around, if Weiss had anything to say about it. She'd need to curb that sacrificial streak of hers.

"Yeah," Jaune chimed in, his eyes sliding to Weiss with a look that said far more than his bland statement, "Looking forward to getting to know you all."

"Indeed," Weiss said crisply, already planning her next move. She needed to talk to Jaune alone. Immediately. As they were led to their dorm room - the same one Team RWBY had occupied in the original timeline, which was just weird - Weiss waited for Ruby and Pyrrha to start unpacking before making her move.

"I'm going to take a walk," she announced, striding toward the door without waiting for a response, "I need some fresh air."

"Do you want company?" Pyrrha offered, ever the thoughtful one. Gods, she missed her. She'd tear all of Ozpin's carefully laid plans apart if it meant saving her.

"No, thank you," Weiss replied, voice perfectly pleasant even as she shot Jaune a look that could have frozen lava, "I prefer to be alone." She walked into the hallway, letting the door click shut behind her. Then she headed for the courtyard, her heels clicking an aggressive beat against the polished floors of Beacon.

The courtyard was mercifully empty this late in the evening. Weiss positioned herself by the fountain; the very one where she'd once screamed at Ruby about being a reckless child. But that was in another lifetime. One she had no intention of repeating.

She didn't have to wait long. Within minutes, she heard footsteps approaching. Deliberately heavy footsteps, like someone wanted her to know they were coming, "Took you long enough," she said without turning around.

"Sorry, had to wait until Ruby was distracted by her weapon maintenance kit," Jaune replied, his voice no longer carrying that careful, hesitant tone he'd used around Ruby. This was confident Jaune. Adult Jaune. Huntsman Jaune.

Ex-husband Jaune.

Weiss turned, crossing her arms as she took him in. He looked so young, just like she did. He was more muscular this time around, his body no longer the gangly mess of limbs of someone who expected skills to come to them. His face was more boyish than it had been in years without the stubble she suggested he grow out once they hit their twenties.

But his eyes... those revealed the truth. They were old eyes. Eyes that had seen war and death and heartbreak.

"You remember," she stated. Not a question.

Jaune didn't bother denying it, "Yeah. Everything."

A moment of charged silence passed between them, filled with fifteen years of history that hadn't happened yet and never would. Weiss was the first to break it, lips curling into a sneer, "Let me guess. You used your fake transcripts again? Couldn't be bothered to actually earn your place this time either?" She knew it was (likely) false, but she couldn't resist.

Jaune bristled instantly, stepping forward with a scowl that would have intimidated her if she hadn't seen him cry while watching soap operas, "No, I didn't! I earned my place here, Ice Queen! Fair and square!"

Weiss's eye twitched at the nickname. He knew exactly how much she hated it, the insufferable ass, "Oh really? So you spent the past three years training to pass the entrance exam?"

"Yeah, actually, I did," Jaune shot back, crossing his arms to mirror her stance, "Every single day, rain or shine. While you were probably having tea parties in your mansion."

Weiss let out a bark of laughter, sharp and cutting, "Tea parties? I've spent the past three years outmaneuvering my father and completely reversing his barbaric business practices while you were swinging a sword around in your backyard. I've created faunus employment initiatives, restructured the entire supply chain, and wrested control from Jacques with Winter's help." She lifted her chin, "What exactly have you accomplished besides the bare minimum of what you should've done the first time around?"

Jaune clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, "Oh, I don't know, just hunting down bandit groups across Anima. You know, real tangible stuff, not just boardroom politics. I've saved actual lives while you've been playing corporate chess."

"Playing chess?" Weiss repeated, her voice rising dangerously, "I've revolutionized faunus labor rights! I've cut off Jacques' access to the company finances and ensured he couldn't weasel his way out of jail! I've-"

She caught herself, realizing they were both shouting now, their faces inches apart, so close that she could see the whites of his eyes surrounding those blue orbs. This was exactly how most of their fights had started during their marriage. The exact same pattern. And look how well that had turned out.

Weiss took a deliberate step back, smoothing her combat skirt, "This is counterproductive."

Jaune sighed, running a hand through his messy blond hair. A gesture so familiar it made something in Weiss's chest ache, "Yeah, it is." He looked up at the shattered moon, "I want to fix things. Avoid what happened the first time around."

"We can agree on that much, at least," Weiss said stiffly, "Penny and Pyrrha need to survive. The Breach and the Fall of Beacon must be averted. Lionheart should be exposed as the traitor he is. And Atlas..." Her voice hitched slightly, "Atlas can't be destroyed."

Jaune nodded, his expression grim, "I tried to find that Amber woman, the Fall Maiden that Cinder attacked. Thought maybe I could save her, change everything from the start. But I couldn't figure out where she was when she got attacked."

Weiss paused, genuinely surprised by his initiative. She'd expected to have to drag him along with her plans, not to discover he'd been working toward the same goals all along, "That was... not a terrible idea," she conceded reluctantly, "But it's actually convenient that you couldn't find her. If Amber isn't at Beacon, Cinder wouldn't attend disguised as a Haven student next semester. We can save her from her coma when we deal with Cinder."

"So we're going to work together, then?" Jaune said, not quite a question despite his tone.

"It would be foolish not to," Weiss replied, "But don't make a mistake. I have absolutely no interest in getting back together with you. That ship has sailed, crashed, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean."

Jaune scowled, crossing his arms again, "You took the words right out of my mouth, Princess. Our marriage was a disaster the first time around. I'm not eager for a repeat performance."

"Good," Weiss sniffed, "I'm glad we're clear on that point."

"Crystal clear."

"Excellent."

"Fantastic."

They glared at each other, the tension between them thick enough to cut with Myrtenaster, "You know," Weiss said suddenly, unable to help herself, "I've been meaning to ask. Why did you try to shield me? At the courthouse, when the bombs went off. We had just signed divorce papers. We hated each other. And yet, your first instinct was to throw yourself over me."

Jaune looked caught off guard for the first time in their conversation, "I- that was just- reflex. Huntsman training. See civilian, protect civilian."

"I was a Huntress too, you moron," Weiss pointed out, eyebrow raised.

"Well, maybe I just didn't want your death on my conscience," Jaune retorted, "It would have been a real mood-killer at the after-divorce party I was planning."

"You were planning a party? Of coruse you were. Asshole."

"Of course not! It was a joke, Weiss. Something people with actual senses of humor make occasionally."

"I have a sense of humor!"

"Name one joke you've told. Ever."

Weiss opened her mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, "I don't have to prove anything to you."

"That's what I thought," Jaune said smugly.

"Oh, shut up. We need to make a plan for stopping Cinder."

"Always changing the subject when you're losing an argument," Jaune muttered, "Some things never change."

"I wasn't losing! And don't act like you know me, Arc."

"We were married for five years, Schnee. I think I know you better than I'd like to."

Weiss glared at him, "Clearly not well enough, since you thought it was appropriate to let Ruby Rose prance around in our bedroom wearing your hoodie."

"For the last time, nothing happened with Ruby!" Jaune exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "She was returning it after a mission! Her cloak got torn fighting an Ursa and- you know what? I'm not having this argument again. "

"Typical. Play the sacrifice card so I feel like a jerk for ever questioning. Classic."

"Oh, I'm sorry for trying to save your life!"

"I didn't ask you to!"

They were nose to nose again, breathing hard, eyes locked in mutual fury. This, Weiss thought distantly, was why their marriage had fallen apart. This exact pattern of escalation, of pushing each other's buttons with surgical precision.

Jaune seemed to realize it at the same moment she did. He took a deliberate step back, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We need to work together," he said, voice carefully measured, "For the sake of everyone else. For Pyrrha and Penny and all the people who died last time."

Weiss nodded stiffly, "Agreed. Truce?"

"Truce," Jaune echoed, "But you need to stop being such a princess in the bathroom. You always use all the hot water."

"I do not!"

"I still remember your hour long showers."

"A proper skincare routine is not negotiable, Arc!"

"Neither is hypothermia from ice-cold showers, Schnee!"

And just like that, they were arguing again. Some things, it seemed, were constants across all timelines. They were doomed, Weiss thought, even as she continued to bicker with her ex-husband about bathroom etiquette that wouldn't be relevant for another thirteen years.

[line break]

Weiss keeps an eye on Ruby. Will likely drag Ruby into a throuple when she gets older, all while convincing herself this was Ruby's plan all along. Poor Cinder gets her plans ruined by bickering exes.

Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 4

Sorry this took a while. My PC bricked and I had to write the latter half of the chapter on a shittier laptop. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

[line break]

Jaune trudged through the front doors of the maid cafe, the familiar bell jingling overhead like some cruel, mocking reminder of the life choices that had led him to this exact moment. His shoulders were slumped with the weight of exhaustion, shame, and the ever-pressing burden of financial strategy. The Atlesian Specialist uniform clung to him uncomfortably, the tight, regulation-style cut not designed for someone who had just endured a multi-hour punishment session from a Schnee heiress with more money than sense and absolutely zero chill.

He didn't make eye contact with the other maids as he passed through the cafe's main floor, ignoring their startled stares, the double takes, the soft murmurs of "Is that...Juliette?" because yes, it was Juliette.

But Juliette had had enough.

Without breaking stride, Jaune beelined toward the manager's office, throwing open the door without so much as a knock. The startled woman behind the desk looked up, startled for only a moment before her face lit up with a smile so wide and saccharine it nearly made Jaune's skin crawl.

"Juliette!" she chirped, clasping her hands together like they were old friends sharing brunch instead of, you know, one of them selling him to Weiss like a piece of meat, "I'm so happy to see you! I hope your time with Ms. Schnee was enjoyable!"

Jaune stared at her with the flat, dead-eyed expression of a man who'd seen too much. His hands hung limp at his sides, and his blonde bangs, still slightly damp from the shower he tried to take before Weiss dragged him back into her Winter fantasy, clung to his forehead in defeated little wisps. He looked like someone who'd been through war and lost.

"I quit," he said, tone as flat as his gaze.

The manager's smile faltered just a bit, her fingers twitching in the air, "Now, now, let's not be hasty-"

"I expect my final paycheck to be deposited into my account by today," Jaune continued, voice still low, even, and devoid of any inflection, "I put in enough hours to qualify for overtime, too."

The manager blinked, "Wait- Juliette, darling, let's talk about this." She stood up quickly, hands extended like she could physically pull him back into this madness with good vibes and high-pitched enthusiasm, "There's no need to end things on such a sour note! You've made incredible connections! Ms. Schnee's just the beginning!"

Jaune tilted his head slowly, like a man trying to process the sound of his own slow descent into a life of upscale gigolo work, "Connections?" he said, raising a single unimpressed brow.

"Yes!" the manager nodded rapidly, sensing an opening, "This is lucrative, Juliette! With your look and talent, you could pull in thousands! Tens of thousands! We split the profit, I handle the scheduling and vetting, and you get the premium clients. A fifty-fifty cut! Sixty-forty if you're picky!" she said the last part like she was offering him a magnanimous deal.

Jaune blinked, then calmly reached into the inner pocket of the Specialist jacket, pulled out his scroll, and with the weary grace of a man who had planned his escape while being actively molested by the Schnee family, tapped the screen to open his new webpage.

The manager leaned in and gasped.

It was sleek. Professional. The kind of page you wouldn't expect from a tired Beacon student who'd been emotionally pulverized by two women in the same week. There was a high-quality photo of him in the maid outfit (taken without his knowledge, thanks Weiss), a polished bio that framed him as a "unique, bespoke experience for refined clientele," and - this was the real kicker - an already growing list of client requests.

"I'm already getting bookings," Jaune said simply, scrolling past usernames like BigSisterS, SchneeKnight87, and the particularly concerning PyrrhaIsMyQueen, "I don't need to split anything with a wannabe pimp."

The manager paled, "N-Now hold on- Juliette, don't throw away everything we've built! We can grow this together! Think of the brand!" Jaune was already walking away, "Juliette!" she called after him, desperation creeping into her voice, "This doesn't have to be the end! We can expand! We can do special events! Couples sessions! Maid cafe deluxe!"

Jaune didn't stop. Didn't slow down. Didn't even look back. He walked through the cafe one last time, head held high, the skirt of the Specialist jacket swaying behind him like a victory flag. The door jingled gently as it closed behind him, the final note on a chapter that - if he had any say - he would never speak of again. The manager's screams felt like a gentle lullaby.

[line break]

Weeks passed, and what had started as a humiliating blip in Jaune's dignity had somehow transformed into a full-blown business empire. Well, "empire" might've been a stretch, but considering he had a rotating schedule, personalized bookings, and was raking in more Lien than most students (or even some Huntsmen) could only dream of, he was definitely living in the upper tax bracket of crossdressing maid capitalism.

The website had exploded in popularity faster than he ever expected. Word of mouth, viral posts, and just the sheer novelty of his services had turned him from "that awkward blonde guy from Beacon" into "Juliette, the most sought-after maid in Vale." And the kicker? He never once hid the fact that he was a guy. In fact, leaning into it - "yeah, I'm a guy, so what? pay up" - only made demand worse. Or better, depending on which side of his wallet he looked at.

Male clients got the standard packages: cleaning, organization, basic service. Nothing shady. He was firm about that. Polished floors, tidied rooms, vacuumed carpets. A perfectly honest gig. But the female clients? Oh, well, let's just say their packages had a few more... "premium options." Private sessions. Roleplay. Foot massages. Very personal tea ceremonies. And if anyone asked what "disciplinary roleplay" was, Jaune just said it was up to the client's imagination and winked.

The lien spoke for itself.

Sure, he wasn't proud to be, essentially, a part-time maid prostitute. He wasn't exactly rushing to tell his parents about his entrepreneurial pursuits. But every time he opened his bank account and saw another pile of zeroes, any shame he might've had got washed away in a tide of financial freedom. He wasn't just getting by, he was thriving. He had a savings account. A retirement plan. He even had a commission slot with Mistral's most exclusive blacksmith, who didn't even accept new clients. His new armor gleamed with rune-etched plating and lightweight alloy. It sang when it moved.

And whenever Cardin or his merry band of meatheads tried to take shots at him for wearing skirts and "servicing" lonely housewives, Jaune just smirked and pulled out his brand-new scroll - the top model, with holo-display and thumbprint encryption - and said, "That's cute. I got it custom engraved. Can you do that with your allowance?" That shut them up quick.

Sometimes, he wore his new armor into the cafeteria just to watch them squirm. He was 87% sure Cardin was considering hiring him out of pure spite.

His friends weren't exactly helpful, either. The site had gotten too popular to hide, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who "Juliette the Gentle Maid" was once they saw the promo photos.

Ren, because he was Ren, had said absolutely nothing. Not a word. Just offered a calm nod when Jaune tried to bring it up awkwardly and never brought it up again. Bro behavior. Gold star. Nora had cackled for five straight minutes. Then she asked if she could design his next outfit. He said no. She asked again every other day.

Pyrrha gave him a weird smile. Not her usual gentle, supportive one, but the kind that lingered a bit too long. The kind that made him wonder if she was proud of him for being financially independent... or planning something. When he asked what she thought of the site, she just said, "I'm happy you're growing as a person," and walked away.

Chilling.

Then there was Team RWBY.

Ruby, bless her innocent heart, had stumbled on the site while searching for "cute maid outfit references" for a class skit. Her face had gone beet red. She cornered him the next day and asked way too many questions, "Wait, so do you put just the outfits or the undies too? Do you get tips? Do you like it? Does anyone ever try to-" He cut her off somewhere around question fifteen and redirected her to the "FAQ" page.

Blake? Oh, Blake was the worst. She didn't even blink when she found out. Just raised an eyebrow, clicked around the site, and said in that calm, infuriating voice, "Your rates are competitive, but you'd double your clients if you added optional roleplay tiers. Maybe a 'knight and princess' package. Or librarian. People like that." Then she walked off, flipping her book closed like she hadn't just casually discussed ways he could whore himself out more.

Yang tried to roast him for weeks. She tried everything: innuendos, jokes about frills, cracking wise about polishing more than just floors. But then Jaune, deadpan, looked her in the eye and said, "I can buy Bumblebee with the leftovers from what I made last weekend." And just like that, the teasing stopped.

And then... there was Weiss.

Weiss Schnee. Beacon's resident heiress. Former recipient of his puppy-dog stares and barely-suppressed crush. Also his most frequent client.

Or... former client, as it turned out.

The drama went down in the cafeteria, where all truly great moments of social implosion occurred. Jaune had been minding his business, sitting with his tray of unremarkable but free school food, scrolling through his bookings, and sipping from his drink. He didn't even notice Weiss until she sat across from him, her chin high, her expression... strained. Like she was trying to look imperious but had a tick in her left eye.

"Jaune," she said sweetly. Way too sweetly.

"Hey, Weiss," he answered, still looking at his scroll, "Need to book a session?"

She twitched, "That's what I wanted to talk about."

He raised a brow but didn't look up.

"I... may be in a temporary state of reduced funding," she said with clear irritation, as if the words themselves were beneath her, "Father, in a completely disproportionate response to my perfectly reasonable expenses, has cut me off."

Jaune looked up, eyebrow arching, "Ah. So no more lien for... services." Weiss had been the most varied client to date. It wasn't just that she wanted him to dress up as her older sister, oh no. She liked to be worshipped. Sometimes, she made him kiss her feet. At other times, she played the role of a domineering princess ravaging the helpless prisoner. Let it never be said that Weiss Schnee lacked for creativity.

Weiss cleared her throat, "Yes. So I was wondering, given our history, if perhaps a... discount could be arranged. Perhaps even some free sessions?"

He blinked. Slowly, "A what?"

Weiss straightened, "You know. As a favor. We're friends, aren't we? Surely you wouldn't let something as petty as money stand between us?"

Jaune stared at her, utterly baffled, "Weiss. The last time we were alone, you told me to beg you for forgiveness for being a naughty little Dust thief. While calling me a 'dirty Faunus whore'."

Her ears went bright red, "That's irrelevant."

"I think it's extremely relevant."

She leaned forward, folding her hands in front of her, voice dropping to a whisper, "Come on, Jaune. Don't you have a crush on me? Your Snow Angel? Surely that's worth a freebie-"

"No discounts," he said flatly, "Especially not for what you were asking for."

There was a loud cough from the next table. Yang had gone completely still, her eyes wide with open delight. Ruby, mouth full of mashed potatoes, looked between them like she was watching a particularly juicy drama unfold. Blake didn't even blink, just kept chewing her salad like she was reading an especially spicy passage in a romance novel.

Weiss flushed from her collarbone to her hairline, "You insufferable-"

"Sorry," Jaune said, standing up and collecting his tray, "Business is business."

He walked off, scroll in hand, already replying to another high-paying client, as Weiss stared after him fuming while the rest of RWBY tried-and failed-to stifle their laughter. Jaune didn't look back. If she wanted Winter so badly, she could go ask her sister.

[line break]

Jaune was in the middle of another mundane yet surprisingly relaxing afternoon in Beacon's library, scrolling through his booking requests on his sleek new scroll. His newest armor gleamed comfortably under the library's gentle lighting, and his boots, custom-made from Atlesian leather that even Weiss would have been jealous of (and actually had been, given the way she'd pouted over them), rested easily on the polished table.

He'd gotten more foreign clients. A noblewoman from Mistral wanted him to serve at a tea ceremony while wearing a traditional kimono (thank you, childhood tea parties). Then there was the Atlas executive who wanted to roleplay being a wife who cheated on her husband. Whether that had any relation to reality, he had no idea. He wasn't being paid to ask questions.

Life, strange as it had become, was pretty damn good, all things considered.

At least, it was until Yang Xiao Long decided to saunter up to him, hips swaying, that signature cocky grin plastered on her lips. Jaune glanced up, one eyebrow arched in mild suspicion as he watched her casually toss herself into the seat across from him.

"Hey there, Ladykiller," Yang began, grinning in a way that immediately set Jaune on high alert, "Busy day?"

He tapped his scroll thoughtfully, keeping his tone deliberately neutral, "Something like that," he replied slowly, eyes narrowing just slightly. He knew that look. That was the look of someone about to make his day complicated, "What's up, Yang?"

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, violet eyes glittering with mischief, "So, I took a look at your site last night."

Jaune felt his stomach twist slightly. This was not the start to a conversation he was hoping for, "Oh," he managed after a moment, his voice cautiously steady, "Did you now?"

Yang waved a hand casually, as if it were no big deal, "Yeah, you know. Just out of curiosity. A few laughs, mostly."

Jaune's eye twitched, "Glad you found my livelihood funny," he deadpanned, scrolling idly through the bookings as if he'd heard this a thousand times. Which, given Nora, Ruby, and basically everyone else, he kind of had. Apparently, the idea of him, of all people, being paid for high quality maid sex still boggled people's minds.

Yang laughed loudly, leaning back in her chair, "C'mon, Vomit Boy. You have to admit, it's pretty hilarious. I mean, who'd have thought Jaune Arc would be Vale's hottest maid?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes into orbit, "Is there an actual point to this, or are you just trying to lower my self-esteem for sport?"

Yang grinned even wider, leaning in again and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "Actually, I wanna hire you."

Jaune paused. Froze, really. He blinked, once, twice, processing what she'd just said. Yang Xiao Long wanted to hire him. Yang. Beacon's loudest, toughest, most confident brawler (and most notorious flirt). Yang, who never had trouble getting anyone she wanted, was openly asking to buy his services. He coughed lightly, recomposing himself, "Uh-huh. Right. Well, Yang, I'd love to accommodate you, but you realize I don't come cheap, right?" He flipped open his booking rates casually, showing her the premium prices without a hint of shame.

Yang's eyes bulged as she glanced at the numbers. She sputtered for a moment, seemingly caught between outrage and disbelief, "What the heck, Jaune?! That's your rate? I'm literally offering to sleep with you!" she hissed, looking around to make sure nobody overheard, "Most guys would kill for that kind of opportunity!"

Jaune met her eyes, "Then maybe you should go talk to those guys," he said calmly, tone dry, "I'm being paid very well to sleep with people. Why would I do it for free?"

Yang spluttered again, her cheeks coloring indignantly, "Because we're friends!" she finally managed, as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

Jaune gave her a flat look, leaning back with his arms crossed, "Friends?" he repeated, "Yang, we're kinda friends, at best. Really, I'm more Ruby's friend. You mostly just chime in occasionally to remind me that I puked on your boots during initiation."

Yang bristled, visibly offended, "Hey! That's not true! I... uh..." She hesitated, clearly unable to think of a counterargument quickly enough. She glared at him instead, "The point is, it's supposed to be an honor for you! I'm Yang freakin' Xiao Long!" He blinked. Well, someone had an inflated ego, didn't they? And he thought Weiss had it bad.

Jaune nodded sagely, "Yeah, I figured out who you are, thanks," he drawled, complete unimpressed, "You're Yang Xiao Long, and you're asking to hire Jaune Arc, the professional crossdressing maid-slash-escort. For my professional rates."

Yang's lilac eyes flashed with annoyance, and she leaned back, crossing her arms with a huff. After a moment of irritated contemplation, she reluctantly dug into her pocket and yanked out a thick bundle of lien cards, practically throwing them across the table at him.

"Fine," she growled, the pout on her lips almost comically wide, "You better be good, Arc."

Jaune casually gathered the cards, counting them methodically, "You're short." He hummed, meeting her glare without blinking, "That's only half the fee."

Yang let out a strangled noise, her face turning a remarkable shade of red, "Are you kidding me?! Half? You haven't even done anything yet!"

"Exactly," Jaune retorted smoothly, "That's why it's called upfront payment. You pay first. Besides, it's not like you're strapped for cash." He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, "Right?"

She glared at him a moment longer before grumbling under her breath and pushing herself up from the table with dramatic flair, "Fine. I'll pay the other half after," she snapped, spinning on her heel and storming away in an irritated huff, drawing more than a few startled glances from nearby students.

Jaune sighed, shaking his head in tired amusement as he neatly pocketed the lien cards. This was his life now. Charging Yang Xiao Long for services he once would've gladly offered for free. The absurdity of it all wasn't lost on him. Weeks ago, if someone told him Yang would literally offer herself to him, he would've been doing cartwheels down the halls. He would've been fistbumping like a lunatic

Now? Now he just wondered if he should've charged her extra for being a pain in the ass.

He slumped back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, "Well," he muttered quietly to himself, "A client's a client." He couldn't help but laugh softly at his own predicament, "Oh god, I've become that kind of person. I'm charging Yang Xiao Long." Somewhere deep inside him, the starry-eyed teenager who once would've jumped at the chance to date someone like Yang was shaking his head in disbelief. The practical, financially secure entrepreneur he'd become, however, was already mentally calculating how to invest Yang's lien into a nice vacation.

Maybe a nice little cabin in Patch.

[line break]

Jaune stood outside Team RWBY's dorm room, dressed once again in his now-famous (and frankly, worryingly comfortable) maid outfit. He briefly stared at the door with something approaching tired resignation, one hand clutching a small black case containing his usual cleaning supplies and accessories, the other holding his scroll. Yang had sent him a message, promising that her teammates would all be out, assuring him that they'd have the whole dormitory to themselves for the evening. It had sounded nice enough at the time, but now that he was standing here, he couldn't help but feel a little bit... disappointed.

It just felt kind of lazy. Cheap, even. Say what you wanted about Weiss Schnee - and Jaune could say plenty - but at least she'd gone the extra mile and booked out an upscale luxury hotel. Granted, that was before her father had tightened her financial leash, but still. Compared to that, Yang's setup felt like the bargain-bin, store-brand version of his usual service. If he was charging premium rates, shouldn't the location at least be somewhere nicer than a Beacon Academy dorm room with Yang's tangled mess of blankets and Ruby's scattered cookie crumbs?

With a quiet sigh and a practiced, professional smile fixed firmly in place, Jaune lifted his hand and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a startled squeak, a curse muffled through the door, and what sounded suspiciously like someone stumbling over a piece of furniture. Moments later, the door jerked open, revealing Yang.

The other blonde looked... distinctly unsettled.

She was pacing nervously even as she opened the door wider, casting glances around the dorm as if checking that no one was about to burst through the window and discover them. Jaune furrowed his brow just slightly, a faint flicker of unease tickling the back of his mind. Nervousness usually meant complications. And complications usually meant hours of unpaid overtime and a headache that no amount of lien could soothe.

But, he ignored that gut instinct and stepped gracefully inside, setting his cleaning case carefully on the desk near Ruby's bed. He took a moment to collect himself before dropping into the now-routine curtsy that came so easily to him, voice rising slightly into that soft, demure, professional lilt he'd perfected after weeks of practice.

"Good evening, Mistress. Juliette, at your serv-"

"Yeah, okay, that's enough," Yang blurted out hastily, cutting him off mid-curtsy. Jaune blinked. Huh. That was... fast. Usually, even his most eager clients at least wanted a token amount of the maid experience before moving things along. And Yang was definitely the type to milk the scenario for all it was worth, "Take it off," she said abruptly, waving vaguely at his outfit. She was still pacing, anxiety radiating off her in waves.

Jaune raised an eyebrow, still frozen mid-curtsy, trying not to feel personally slighted by how quickly she'd brushed past his admittedly impeccable customer service skills, "Uh... are you sure? Most clients at least-"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Yang interrupted, voice terse and edged with embarrassment. She refused to look him in the eye, and instead hurried over to her closet, yanking open the doors with a bit more force than necessary. She rummaged frantically through her belongings, muttering softly to herself before finally letting out a triumphant little noise.

Then, with all the confidence she could summon (and honestly, not much dignity) Yang turned and thrust something toward him.

Jaune's eyes widened, his heart sinking faster than his former crush on Weiss.

Yang held out a scandalously short, red, thigh-high kimono paired with silky black stockings, a set of vivid red contact lenses balanced precariously on top. And, he squinted, a black wig with long, sleek tresses spilling through her fingers. Jaune stared at the ensemble, mouth slightly agape as he mentally struggled to parse what exactly she was asking for here.

With an expression so serious and somber that Jaune almost felt bad for her, Yang took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eyes, "I want you to put this on," she stated firmly, "The contacts, wig, everything."

Jaune's gaze flicked from Yang's carefully blank face down to the incredibly specific costume ensemble clutched tightly in her hands. Something was clicking in his mind and his stomach twisted unpleasantly, "Uh," Jaune began carefully, "That's a bit different from the usual requests I get. Mind explaining what this is all about?" Why did it feel like he was trapped in the room with Weiss?

Yang visibly struggled, cheeks tinged crimson. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet, looking away. After a tense pause, she finally exhaled, squaring her shoulders and forcing out the words through gritted teeth, "Just put the fucking stuff on, Arc. Oh, and one more thing. During the session, I'll be... calling you Raven."

Jaune's heart sank further. Oh. Oh, no. He recognized that name. He knew exactly who Raven was. Raven, the notorious Branwen bandit leader, feared warrior... and Yang Xiao Long's notoriously absent mother. The same mother she constantly claimed to not give a shit about but was clearly emotionally entangled with in all the worst ways.

A deeply uncomfortable silence hung thickly between them, broken only by the faint hum of Beacon's hallway lights outside. Jaune slowly looked from Yang's deeply earnest, mortified expression back down to the kimono in her hands, then back up to her increasingly anxious eyes.

For several long seconds, Jaune didn't speak. He just stared, his brain attempting a very hurried reboot sequence. A sister complex had been bad enough -Weiss had pushed him into territory he wasn't exactly comfortable exploring, being a middle child of seven sisters - but at least that had been somewhat understandable. Sibling rivalry, family pressure, high expectations. Weird, but logical.

But now Yang... this was different. This was a whole new level of strange. Yang Xiao Long wanted him to dress up as her deadebat mom while she...what? Fucked him? Cried on his lap? He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly for a second as he fought off a sudden wave of existential dread. First Weiss and her blatant sister complex, now Yang and... this. He was beginning to worry that "Juliette" might be cursed, attracting only clients with deeply uncomfortable family issues and concerning emotional baggage. Maybe he needed to raise his rates. Maybe he needed therapy. Maybe both.

Jaune exhaled heavily, opened his eyes, and looked down at the offered kimono again, resigning himself to the inevitable. Yang was staring expectantly, almost pleadingly, clearly mortified but determined. Slowly, with the solemn dignity of a soldier heading off to war, Jaune took the outfit from her outstretched hands. Yang sagged in visible relief, shoulders relaxing slightly.

Jaune stared at the kimono in his hands with the weary resignation of a man who'd seen too much. The money, he reminded himself as he shuffled toward the bathroom. Just think about the money.

"You know," Yang called after him, voice pitched several octaves higher than usual, "This is totally normal! Everyone has roleplay fantasies!"

Jaune paused at the bathroom door, turning slowly to face her with a deadpan expression, "Dressing someone up as your deadbeat mom is normal?"

Yang's face flushed crimson, "It's not- I don't-" She crossed her arms defensively, "It's not about mommy issues! I just... happen to like the aesthetic! The whole bandit queen vibe is... you know... cool."

"Right," Jaune nodded mechanically, "And the name?"

"Total coincidence!" Yang blurted too quickly, "Raven is just..." She flapped her hands vaguely, "Ravens are literally my least favorite birds! So negative and... bird-like!"

Jaune blinked slowly, "Your least favorite birds."

"Absolutely!" Yang said, pacing nervously, "Crows? Love 'em. Seagulls? Adorable thieves. But ravens? Can't stand 'em. Too... black and... ravenous."

Jaune didn't even try to hide his disbelief, "And that's why you want me to dress up as one and call me Raven."

"Exactly!" Yang snapped her fingers as if he'd just solved a complex mathematical equation, "See? You get it!"

"I really don't," Jaune muttered, disappearing into the bathroom.

He laid out the ensemble on the counter, studying it with the clinical detachment of someone dissociating from reality. The kimono was clearly expensive-quality silk, precise stitching, and alarmingly accurate to what little he'd seen of Yang's mother in news reports about bandit raids. The wig looked professionally styled. Even the contacts were high-end.

"How long have you been planning this?" he called through the door.

There was a suspicious pause, "Planning what?" Yang's voice was strained, "This totally spur-of-the-moment, not-at-all-thought-out thing?"

Jaune sighed, beginning to swap his maid outfit for the kimono, "You just happened to have a perfect Raven costume lying around?"

"I'm... into cosplay?" Yang offered weakly.

"Uh-huh," Jaune murmured, struggling with the wig, "And do you often cosplay as your own mom?"

"SHE'S NOT-" Yang caught herself, clearing her throat, "It's just a style preference! Some people like nurse outfits. Some people like maid outfits. I like... this!"

Jaune carefully inserted the red contacts, blinking until they settled. The transformation was disturbingly effective-even he had to admit, staring at his reflection, that the resemblance was uncanny. The red eyes staring back at him seemed to ask, What life choices brought you here? "You better be paying the other half," he muttered to himself, adjusting the kimono's neckline, "Maid service therapy isn't covered by Beacon's health plan."

When he emerged, Yang's reaction was immediate and unsettling. Her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she took an unconscious step backward. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly, fingers twitching at her sides. He did NOT like the look on her face. That should not be the look someone gave to a person dressed like their mom.

"So," Jaune said flatly, spreading his arms, "Is this what your least favorite bird looks like?"

Yang swallowed hard, "It's... accurate," she managed, voice suddenly husky.

Jaune sighed deeply, "I charge extra for psychological damage, just so you know."

"Worth it," Yang whispered, almost to herself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" Yang straightened, composing herself, "Just... you know... appreciating well-made the outfit is!"

Jaune crossed his arms, the kimono's silk rustling softly, "Yang, we both know what this is."

"A completely normal roleplay scenario?" She offered a brittle smile.

"This is about your mom issues."

"I don't have mom issues!" Yang protested, throwing her hands up, "I have abandonment issues, thank you very much! Totally different category of trauma!"

Jaune couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity, "Oh, well in that case, my bad. Clearly this is completely healthy and not at all concerning!"

Yang pointed an accusatory finger at him, "Hey! You dressed up as Weiss's sister for her! How is this any different?"

"It's not," Jaune admitted tiredly. He didn't even ask how she knew that considering Weiss insisted on keeping it a secret, "You're both really sketch clients with family issues that would make a therapist retire early. At least Pyrrha just wanted me in the maid outfit without making me call her mommy."

Yang's eyebrows shot up, "Wait, you and Pyrrha-"

"Not relevant," Jaune cut her off, running a hand through the wig's silky strands. Why was it so high quality?! "Look, I'm here, I'm dressed up, you're paying me. Let's just get this over with so I can start repressing this whole thing."

Yang nodded eagerly, already moving toward the bed, "Right! Yeah! Let's do this!"

As he followed her, Jaune couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "First Schnee family roleplay, now Branwen bandit fantasy. I swear to gods, if Ruby asks me to dress up as their dad next..."

Yang froze mid-step, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Jaune sighed, "Just calculating how much therapy this is going to cost me." Yang had the decency to look momentarily guilty before her gaze drifted back to the red-eyed, kimono-clad figure before her. Her expression shifted, something complicated and deeply concerning flickering across her face, "The money," Jaune reminded himself yet again, taking a steadying breath, "Just think about the money."

And the hours of therapy he was definitely scheduling first thing tomorrow.

As soon as Yang reached the bed, it was like a switch flipped. Her jittery pacing disappeared and her body went weirdly still. When she turned around, her eyes were blood red and the voice that came out was hard and rough, "On your fucking knees." She tapped the ground in front of her with her right boot.

Jaune wasn't even fazed by the sudden shift. With the grace of a true professional, he did just that, holding back a cringe as he knees hit cookie crumbs. He looked up at her crimson orbs. For most students, being on their knees while a pissed off Yang looked down at them was a cause for concern, but Jaune already knew better by now. He didn't say anything yet. She'd tell him when.

"Well, well, well." She chuckled, the sound low and hoarse. She reached out with her right hand and grabbed the top of his wig, pulling it back to jerk his head up. He followed along. The wig was fastened tight in preparation for any rough play, but the last thing either of them needed was it slipping off, "The great Raven, the scourge of Anima. How's it feel being fucking helpless? Huh?" She tugged the wig again.

"...Yang, rough play costs extra."

"Wha?" Her red eyes turned lilac again, "Dude, you're ruining this!"

"And if you pull any harder, the wig's gonna come off!" he shot back, "You wanna get handsy? Grab the kimono or something! At least that's supposed to come off. But remember, rough stuff costs extra."

"Rrgh, fine! Just...stay in character!"

"What character? I thought this was just your least favorite bird?" Jaune blinked innocently.

"I swear to the Brothers, Jaune." She shook her head, "Look, just act like an overconfident bitch. Like, the kind of bitch who ditches her husband and baby without even changing a single diaper and thinks she's the hottest shit ever."

"Fine." He was even nice enough to not comment on how this was OBVIOUSLY about her mommy issues. Jaune coughed and schooled his face in a defiant, resting bitch face expression, "I'm sorry? Am I supposed to know who you are? I deal with cocky little brats all the time."

That did it. Yang's sadistic smirk came back and her eyes turned red again. She did take his advice, at least, and shifted her hand from the wig to the collar of the kimono, "Huh, you're as much of a bitch as dad said." Her smirk widened, the gesture all teeth, "It's kinda amazing that you've still got your head so far up your ass after I knocked your teeth in."

"You got lucky." Jaune scoffed. He made sure to sound as Weiss-like as possible, "What do you want, brat? Come to cry on my lap and ask why I left?"

Yang tossed him roughly onto the bed. Jaune broke character for a second and yelped as he ended up flat on his back. Before he could even sit up, Yang was already on top of him. The other blonde straddled his waist, her eyes searing into his while her hair burned across her back like a fiery waterfall. She was angry, but more than that, she was loving this. She wanted to be pissed.

Jaune twitched as he felt Jaune Junior stirring. The kimono had ridden up when she threw him, exposing the spats underneath (lingerie cost extra, thank you very much). Even with how weird this whole thing was, he couldn't deny that Yang was hot. One of the hottest women in the school, according to chatter in the guys locker room. Even the seniors looked twice when she walked down the halls.

And now she looked like she wanted to destroy him.

Yang cupped the sides of his jaw with both hands and leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss. No, calling it a kiss was an understatement. He'd had desperate and domineering clients before, but they were usually civilians without Aura or combat training. Yang put them all to shame. Her pressed against his mouth like she was trying to suffocate him, her tongue battering his as she licked, sucked, and bit him like a Grimm mauling a civilian.

And... he was into it.

His cock rose rapidly, pressing against her right thigh through his spats. He felt Yang smile against his lips before she growled, "What's wrong, Raven? Getting hard for the daughter you ditched?" Jaune winced. Did she really have to remind him that this was about her mommy issues? "Fucking pathetic."

"Yang-"

"No." She put a finger against his lips, surprisingly gentle, "You don't get to talk this time, Raven."

Yang shucked off her jacket with her tube top following shortly after. Despite everything, Jaune couldn't help but stare. Clients tended to be a mixed bag. Huntress clients were all lookers - it was a joke that there's literally not a single average-looking Huntress in Remnant thanks to their Aura and training - while civilians ran the gamut from pretty to dowdy.

But Yang? She was like a work of art. Muscles that almost put Pyrrha to shame with lightly tanned, flawless skin from a life of outdoor living. Her tits were huge, probably the biggest among their two teams, and below that? Abs. Abs you could grate Dust crystals on. While he had a thing for petite women like Weiss, there was an undeniable appeal to a woman who looked like she could paint the walls with his guts.

... No, he didn't have issues.

"See this?" She flexed her arms, showing off the rippling muscles, "I didn't need you to be strong, Raven. I didn't need to go squat in the woods like a crazy murder hobo to prove anything."

And just like that, he was checking out again. He was almost tempted to pay Yang back her deposit if she just stopped opening her mouth. His eyes glazed over as she continued ranting and he looked out the window. There, sitting on a bench right outside, was a single raven. It stared at them both without blinking, practically radiating judgement. He could've sworn its beak was frowning.

"Hey, you listening?!" Yang grabbed his face and forced him to face her again.

"Sorry, I don't care about the opinions of shitty brats," Jaune said. Hey, at least he was keeping in character.

"You little..." She growled. For a second, he thought she'd forget the rules and smack him in the face. Instead, she shimmied off her shorts to expose her lightly shaved pussy. He didn't get the chance to say anything back before she tore off his shorts - literally tore them off - and positioned her entrance over his erect dick.

She slammed herself down until he took his cock up to the base. No hesitation, no foreplay, nothing. Jaune gasped like he was punched while Yang let out a sound between a growl and a groan of pain. She was tight. Gods, so fucking tight. Through bleary eyes, he saw her hair turning into fire itself, her breaths coming out in quick, ragged pants.

"Y-Yang..."

"Sh-Shut up...!" She pressed both hands against his chest and slowly lifted herself up. Inch by agonizing inch, his cock was slowly pulled out of her cunt, the walls pressing against the sides like they refused to let go. He was tempted to reach out and grab her hips, to slam her back down on his dick till she screamed.

Instead, he forced his hands to his sides and held back. This was a job, he told himself. This was Yang fucking her way through whatever mommy issues she had. Customer satisfaction. He repeated the phrase like a mantra she raised herself until only the head of his dick was inside.

Then she slammed back down. It wasn't controlled or particularly methodical. Her hips and ass just fell like she tripped and his dick went inside with a little less resistance than before, "Th-That's right..." Yang moaned and balled her hands into shaky fists, tearing at the kimono's high quality fabric. He didn't bother to shout out a warning. It was her money. If she wanted to tear it off, it was her business.

Jaune's breaths came out sharp and quick. He looked away again, trying to focus on something else to keep himself from cumming too quickly.

His eyes were drawn to the raven perched outside the window again. It was still there, still watching them with silent judgement. For some reason, he could almost see an eyebrow raised in contempt.

Another black bird - a crow - joined the judgmental raven. It perched next to her (after taking a few swipes with its claws) then turned to face the window. Its beak parted once it saw them, like it was expecting them to stop and throw seeds at it right in the middle of their fucking. It looked between them and the perching raven before it fell off the branch like a stone.

...

Well, that was weird.

"I said LOOK AT ME!" Yang grabbed his jaw with one hand and forced him to face her. Red met red as Yang held his head in place, "You don't get to ignore me anymore, Raven! Twenty fucking years and you're finally gonna pay attention to me!"

Jaune groaned, and it had nothing to do with the fact that his dick was in her snatch. He silently pleading for Yang to just please stop talking, but of course, she didn't. He did his best to simultaneously look at her tune and out the blubbering rant she really should've been giving to a therapist instead of someone she was fucking like a bitch in heat.

When he finally came (after pulling out, of course), it felt more like an obligation than anything else. Did it feel good? Absolutely. Did it feel like he should've been charging more than his usual rate? Also absolutely. Yang gasped and fell on top of him, and even the feeling of her tits pressing against his chest did little to change how mentally haggard he felt. Through the window, he just barely saw the Raven caw before flying away in what felt like disgust.

"There, there..." Jaune patted her back awkwardly as she cried about how 'she' left her. Maybe he should offer counseling services next time.

Hours later, Jaune stood in Team RWBY's bathroom, methodically washing away all traces of the Raven persona. The red contacts came out first, dropped unceremoniously into their case. The wig followed, carefully set aside despite his urge to burn it. As he scrubbed his face clean, he caught glimpses of his expression in the mirror. A thousand-yard stare that spoke volumes about what he'd just endured.

"Never again," he muttered to his reflection, which seemed to nod in solemn agreement.

He reached for his maid outfit, the familiar frills and lace offering a strange comfort after hours of... whatever that had been. At least as Juliette, he was playing a character he'd created, not someone's estranged mother with who they wanted to hate fuck.

Yang lounged on her bed, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just enacted what was essentially several hours of extremely expensive therapy. Her hair was tousled, her expression satisfied in a way that made Jaune's skin crawl when he thought about the context. She didn't look like someone who spent the past couple of hours bawling and asking about why she wasn't good enough.

"So," she drawled as he emerged from the bathroom, adjusting his headband, "That was... something, huh?"

"Something's one word for it," Jaune replied flatly. He straightened his apron, preparing to leave this experience firmly in his mental 'never speak of again' file alongside most of his Weiss encounters, "Where's the rest of my fee?"

Yang's relaxed demeanor faltered. She coughed awkwardly, suddenly finding the ceiling fascinating, "Right. About that..."

Jaune paused, a chill running down his spine. He knew that tone. That was the universal tone of someone about to try weaseling out of a financial obligation, "Yang," he said, his voice dangerously calm, "The rest of my payment?"

She sat up, rubbing the back of her neck with an awkward laugh, "Okay, well... funny story. I don't exactly... have it?"

The silence that followed was so thick you could have cut it with Crocea Mors, "You don't have it," Jaune repeated, each word carefully measured.

"Well, I had it," Yang clarified quickly, gesturing toward the discarded Raven outfit, "But that shit wasn't exactly cheap, you know? Premium silk, custom tailoring, professional-grade contacts..."

Jaune stared at her blankly, "You spent my payment... on the outfit... that you made me wear."

"When you put it like that, it sounds bad!" Yang whined.

"How else should I put it?"

"Like... an investment in the experience?" She offered a hopeful smile, "Besides, you got half already! Maybe this one could be a freebie? For friendship? And getting to fuck the hottest chick at Beacon?" She winked and stuck her tongue out, a gesture that would've left any other man a puddle on the floor.

Jaune was not any other man.

His eye twitched. He took a deep breath, counting backward from ten. When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm, "Yang Xiao Long," he said, straightening to his full height (which, in heels, was considerable), "You owe me the rest of my payment. This is not a negotiation."

Yang's smile faltered, "Come on, Vomit Boy, don't be like that-"

"You have until next week," Jaune continued as if she hadn't spoken, "Or I'll be taking you to small claims court."

Yang's jaw dropped, "What? Small claims- are you fucking serious?!"

"Completely." Jaune didn't blink, "I have our agreement in writing, timestamped messages confirming your booking, and half-payment as evidence of intent. I have a business to run, and I don't work for free. Especially not for whatever that was."

"That's going way too far!" Yang yelped, scrambling off the bed, "We're friends! You can't sue your friends!"

"Friends pay their debts," Jaune replied coldly, "And by the way, you're also banned."

"Banned?!" Yang spluttered, "You can't ban me!"

"One month minimum," Jaune continued, collecting his cleaning kit, "For jerking me around." And she didn't even jerk him around. He would've lowered the ban if she did.

"But- But-" Yang was practically hopping with indignation now, "What if I need your services again? What if I have... you know... urges?"

"Then I suggest cold showers and therapy," Jaune said, heading for the door, "Lots of therapy. Maybe you can book a double session with Weiss. I know a good family therapist if you need a recommendation."

Yang followed him, still protesting, "This is ridiculous! I'll pay you back, but a ban? Really? Come on, Jaune, be reasonable-"

"Goodbye, Yang," Jaune cut her off, opening the door, "I expect payment in full by next Friday. Have a good night."

He stepped into the hallway, shutting the door on her continued sputtering. Her muffled complaints followed him down the corridor, but Jaune didn't look back. He walked with the straight-backed dignity of someone who had just survived yet another bizarre encounter in what was becoming an increasingly strange career. Not a walk of shame. A walk of pride.

... Mostly pride.

"Therapy," he muttered to himself as he headed back to his dorm, "Definitely scheduling a therapy session tomorrow." And maybe a business management course focusing on advance deposits and contract enforcement.

[line break]

Omake: That's So Raven

Jaune tugged nervously at the long blonde wig, the hair cascading down his shoulders in a way that felt distressingly familiar. The texture, the color, the particular wave of the strands... it looked exactly like Yang's hair. Far too much like Yang's hair. The resemblance made his stomach twist uncomfortably considering their last meeting.

"Is this really necessary?" he asked, eyeing his client warily.

Raven Branwen - yes, the Raven Branwen, notorious bandit leader and Yang's estranged mother - merely smirked. Her red eyes glinted with amusement as she gestured imperiously toward the bed.

"Sit," she commanded.

Jaune sighed but obeyed, perching awkwardly on the edge of the mattress. The hotel room was aggressively luxurious, the kind of place where the minibar water cost more than his old combat boots. The booking request had come out of nowhere: a hefty advance payment and sparse instructions, with the name "R. Branwen" on the form. He'd assumed it was a pseudonym until she'd walked through the door in all her terrifying glory.

"So... what exactly am I supposed to do?" Jaune asked, crossing his legs nervously, "Cleaning? Tea service? Um... other services?" His female clients came from all ages. Young, old, and in-between. His only stipulation was that they were legal.

Raven didn't answer. She tilted her head, studying him with an unreadable expression, her mouth a tight line. Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the door.

Jaune blinked in confusion, "Wait, where are you-"

The door clicked shut behind her.

Jaune stared at the empty space where Raven had been standing just moments before, his mouth hanging open, "Uh..." he said to the empty room. Had she forgotten something? Was this some kind of test? Was she coming back with... equipment? Jaune shuddered at the possibilities. Given his recent experiences with the women in his life, nothing would surprise him anymore.

He waited. And waited. Minutes ticked by. The silence of the room pressed in on him. He checked his scroll - fifteen minutes had passed.

"Hello?" he called out uncertainly.

No response. He stood up, pacing nervously. Maybe this was some kind of elaborate roleplay scenario he wasn't familiar with? Maybe she wanted him to chase after her? Or maybe she'd been called away for some emergency bandit business? Sorry, can't stay for my weird sex appointment, there's a village that needs raiding cause I'm actually a monster.

Thirty minutes. He sent a message: Is everything okay? No response.

An hour. He'd tried the door. Unlocked. He could leave if he wanted, but she'd paid in advance. A lot. And Juliette didn't bail on contracts.

Two hours. Jaune lay back on the bed, still wearing the blonde wig, staring blankly at the ceiling, "What is happening right now?" he asked the chandelier. The chandelier didn't respond.

Four hours. He'd gone through all five stages of grief, reorganized his scroll apps by color, and counted the ceiling tiles twice, "This," he said to the empty room, "Is officially the weirdest booking I've ever had."

Finally, just as the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the plush carpet, the door clicked open. Raven walked in as casually as if she'd just stepped out for coffee, not a hair out of place. She looked at Jaune, still wearing the blonde wig (though considerably more disheveled after hours of anxious fidgeting), and nodded once.

"Good. You stayed," she said, as if this were a completely normal interaction.

Jaune sat up straight, bewilderment giving way to indignation, "You were gone for six hours!"

Raven shrugged, reaching into her pocket and tossing a stack of lien cards onto the bed beside him, "Here. For your time."

Jaune stared at the money, then back at Raven, "What... What was that? What just happened? What was the point of all this?"

Raven's lips curved into a cold smile, "Neglect play. I was feeling nostalgic."

The words took a moment to register. When they did, Jaune's jaw dropped, "Wait - you mean you just... left? On purpose? That was the whole service you wanted?"

"Yep." Raven crossed her arms, looking unnervingly pleased with herself, "Six hours of abandonment. Just like old times."

Jaune stared at her in horrified realization. The blonde wig. The sitting and waiting. The abandonment, "Oh my god," he whispered, "You're fucked up."

Raven didn't even flinch at the accusation. She merely raised an eyebrow, her red eyes glacial, "Says the boy taking money to wear a wig and sit on his ass for six hours." She gestured to the lien pile, "Easiest job you've ever had, wasn't it?" Jaune looked down at the money - it was substantially more than his usual rate - then back at the bandit leader. He couldn't argue with her logic, as twisted as it was.

Ugh...this sucked.

"Get going," Raven said, "Unless you wanna stay for round two? I could leave for twelve hours this time. And no scroll."

"No thank you," Jaune said quickly, gathering the lien and standing up. He pulled off the blonde wig, tossing it onto the bed with perhaps more force than necessary, "I think I've had enough Branwen family therapy for one lifetime."

Raven's cold laugh followed him to the door, "Smart boy."

As Jaune reached for the handle, a thought struck him. He turned back, unable to help himself, "Does Yang know about... any of this?"

Raven's smile froze, something unreadable flickering in her eyes, "What happens between a client and service provider stays between them, doesn't it, Juliette?"

The emphasis on his professional name was clear - a reminder of his own precarious reputation. Jaune swallowed hard and nodded, "Right. Well. Have a... have a good evening," he managed, slipping out the door.

In the hallway, Jaune leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly as he tried to process what had just happened. Somehow, despite doing absolutely nothing for six hours, he felt more exhausted than after any other booking.

"The Branwen women," he muttered to himself, pocketing the huge stack of lien, "Never again." But even as he said it, he knew that given the amount of lien in his pocket, he'd probably do it again in a heartbeat. Six hours of doing nothing but waiting around in a wig? Compared to his usual bookings, that was practically a vacation.

Maybe he was a little fucked up too.

[line break]

Mommy issues Yang done. Poor Jaune. Guy might as well just take a job as a proper therapist with all the family issues he's dealing with.

No Forgiveness - Oneshot

Hey. Warning, this is going to be a really dark and angsty oneshot because this came from a discussion me and a few others had: what if Volume 1 Weiss didn't just accept Blake being a former member of a group that specifically targetted her and her family for years? Yeah, this is gonna be heavy.

Side note - I know some people are gonna accuse me of bashing Blake given how rough this story is on her. No. Despite all the jokes about her being Worst Girl, I actually do like Blake. I wouldn't have written a bunch of fics with her, many of them positive, as the focus if I didn't like her. I've written her as both reasonable and memetic Worst Girl because both can be funny and enjoyable.

This was just an interesting thought experiment that came because I found the idea really heavy.

[line break]

The cold night air stung Blake's face as she stood at the docks, surrounded by the aftermath of chaos. The broken shipping containers, the lingering smell of Dust and smoke, the White Fang masks scattered across the concrete - all of it seemed like a grim reminder of what she'd tried to leave behind.

And now, as she looked into Weiss's icy blue eyes, Blake knew that her past had finally caught up to her.

"You were one of them." Weiss's voice was quiet, but it cut through the night like a blade, "A member of the White Fang. A terrorist."

Blake felt her bow twitch involuntarily, her faunus ears sensitive to the venom in Weiss's words, "I was. But I left. I realized - "

"You realized what?" Weiss took a step closer, her hand hovering near Myrtenaster's hilt, "That bombing SDC facilities and murdering my family's employees wasn't working out for you anymore? That you needed a new hobby?"

Ruby stepped between them, silver eyes darting nervously, "Weiss, please, Blake's our teammate. She's our friend."

"Friend?" Weiss laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor, "Do friends lie to each other about being part of an organization that has 'disappeared' people I've known since childhood? People at my father's galas one day, gone the next, their families receiving nothing but a White Fang insignia painted in blood?"

Yang placed a hand on Blake's shoulder, "People change, Weiss. Blake left because she didn't agree with what they were doing."

"So she says." Weiss's gaze never left Blake, "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going straight to Ozpin. Right now. Tonight."

Blake's blood ran cold, "Weiss-"

"If he has any sense of justice, he'll have you removed from Beacon immediately, preferably imprisoned."

Ruby grabbed Weiss's arm, "Weiss, please don't! We can work this out as a team!"

Weiss shook her off, "There is no team with a terrorist in our midst." She turned and began walking away, her white hair gleaming under the shattered moon.

Yang shouted after her, "You're making a mistake, Weiss!"

Without turning back, Weiss replied, "The mistake was trusting any of you."

[line break]

Professor Ozpin's office was eerily quiet, the mechanical gears turning overhead creating a rhythmic backdrop to the tension filling the room. Weiss stood rigidly in front of his desk, hands clenched at her sides, "You knew," she said, disbelief coloring her voice, "You knew she was White Fang, and you let her in anyway." She almost didn't believe it. Surely, she thought, it was a mistake. The headmaster simply missed her and didn't let a member of those murderers enter the school deliberately.

Ozpin took a sip from his mug, his expression unreadable behind his glasses, "Ms. Schnee, Beacon Academy evaluates students based on their current character and abilities, not their past mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Weiss's voice rose sharply, "The White Fang has killed dozens of SDC employees. They've bombed our facilities, sabotaged Dust shipments, and caused accidents that have killed innocent workers. These aren't 'mistakes,' Professor. They're atrocities."

"Ms. Belladonna has demonstrated her commitment to a different path," Ozpin replied calmly, "She left the organization of her own volition, recognizing that their methods had become-"

"I don't care what she's 'recognized,'" Weiss cut in, "Do you have any idea what message this sends? That a terrorist can simply decide they're done, walk away, and be rewarded with elite Huntress training? I suppose we should let every serial killer and rapist go once they decide they've had their fun, hm?" Her fingers dug into her palms, "What if she's here gathering intelligence? Learning combat techniques to take back to her White Fang comrades?"

Ozpin set his mug down carefully, "I believe in second chances, Ms. Schnee. Ms. Belladonna deserves the opportunity to-"

"Then you're a fool," Weiss said coldly, "And clearly unfit to run this academy."

A brief flicker of surprise crossed Ozpin's face before he regained his composure. It was obvious he wasn't used to such blatant disrespect from a student, "That's a serious accusation."

"Here's another one: you're knowingly harboring a terrorist. How do you think the Vale Council will react when they learn that? Or the Atlas Military? Or the SDC board of directors?" Weiss leaned forward, placing her hands on his desk, "My father may be a cold-hearted businessman, but at least he doesn't train our enemies to be more effective killers."

Ozpin's expression hardened slightly, "Are you threatening me, Ms. Schnee?"

"I'm promising you that by tomorrow, everyone in Vale will know that Beacon Academy is a safe haven for the White Fang. That Blake Belladonna, a known terrorist, sleeps in the same room as the Schnee heiress." Weiss straightened up, "Unless she's removed immediately."

"You should consider carefully before taking such actions," Ozpin warned, "There are complexities to this situation that you may not fully understand."

"I understand perfectly," Weiss replied, "You've made your choice. Now I'm making mine."

[line break]

Blake threw the last of her belongings into her backpack, movements frantic and jerky. The dorm room felt suffocating now. What had briefly been a sanctuary suddenly transformed into a trap closing around her. Every second that ticked down felt like a vice wrapping tighter and tighter around her neck.

"You don't have to leave," Ruby pleaded, watching from her bunk with tearful eyes, "We can talk to Weiss. She'll understand!"

"There's nothing to understand," Blake said tersely, "Weiss is a Schnee. I... I was White Fang. Those two things don't coexist." She zipped her bag shut.

Yang leaned against the wall, arms crossed, "So you're just running away again? That's your big brain idea?"

Blake paused, amber eyes flashing with hurt and anger, "You think I want to leave? This was the first place I felt like I could start over, could be something more than..." She swallowed hard, "But it doesn't matter what I want. Once Weiss tells people, the SDC will put a bounty on my head so large that every bounty hunter in Remnant will be looking for me." Even Beacon wouldn't be able to shield her. The Huntsmen may have been independent, but they had their limits.

"Ozpin won't let that happen," Ruby insisted.

Blake zipped her pack closed with finality, "Ozpin can't stop it. The SDC has tentacles everywhere - law enforcement, media, government. They practically own half of Atlas's military." She shouldered her pack, "I need to be gone before morning."

"Where will you go?" Yang asked softly.

"Better if you don't know." Blake hesitated, then added, "And better if you forget you knew me at all when people start asking questions."

Ruby jumped down from her bunk, silver eyes filled with determination, "We won't let them take you. We can hide you, protect you!"

"And then what?" Blake's voice cracked, "Become fugitives too? Throw away your futures at Beacon?" She shook her head, "No. This is my burden to bear."

Yang pushed off from the wall, moving to stand in front of the door, "I can't just let you walk out of here without a plan."

"I always have a plan," Blake lied, her bow flattening against her head. The accessory suddenly felt heavy, "I've been running my whole life, Yang. I know how to disappear." The words came out too bitter to be confident. She'd always ran away. She ran away from her parents, ran away from Adam and the White Fang, and now she was running away from Beacon. Because what was the alternative? Let Weiss rile up a lynch mob?

The door to the dorm room burst open suddenly, revealing Weiss. Her pale face was flushed with anger, eyes burning with cold fire as she took in the scene before her, "Going somewhere?" she asked Blake, voice dripping with contempt.

Blake's hand instinctively moved to Gambol Shroud, "Get out of my way, Weiss."

"Or what? You'll add me to the White Fang's list of Schnee casualties?" Weiss's hand rested on Myrtenaster, "Ozpin is a sentimental old fool, but even he can't ignore public outcry. By this time tomorrow, every news outlet in Vale will know exactly what you are."

Ruby stepped between them, "Weiss, please! This isn't right!"

"What isn't right is that my teammates are defending a terrorist instead of standing with me," Weiss snapped, "She infiltrated our team, our school, lived among us while belonging to a group that would slaughter my family without hesitation!" Blake winced. There was no doubt in her words. Weeks of being a team, the scattered conversations that were almost friendly; all gone. Now she was just another Faunus terrorist in Weiss' eyes.

"I left them because they became exactly what people like your father accused us of being," Blake said, her composure finally breaking, "I wanted equality, justice - not blood!"

"A convenient story," Weiss scoffed, "How many SDC workers died before your conscience finally kicked in? How many families were torn apart while you 'realized' violence wasn't the answer?"

Blake flinched like she'd been hit, "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough." Weiss's eyes narrowed, "I know that Adam Taurus led the Vale branch of the White Fang - the same branch responsible for destroying an entire mining camp on the border. No survivors, Human or Faunus. Was that for 'equality,' Blake? Was that for 'justice'?"

The color drained from Blake's face at the mention of Adam. She wanted to fight, to argue, to justify herself. The White Fang had only gone after the most deserving targets at first. The racists, the corrupt, the greedy. But then, something changed. Suddenly, collateral damage wasn't just a mistake. SDC employees who couldn't even fight back? They worked for the enemy. Miners caught in collapsed tunnels? Sacrifices for the cause. Faunus who weren't part of the White Fang? Traitors to their race. Always another justification.

Yang's eyes flashed red, "That's enough, Weiss!"

"No, it's not nearly enough," Weiss countered, "The authorities will decide what's 'enough' for a member of a terrorist organization."

Blake took a step backward, her back hitting the window, "You have no idea what you're doing, Weiss. The White Fang will see this as the SDC persecuting a faunus who dared to leave. You'll be making their case for them, radicalizing even more faunus." Even as the words left her mouth, she could already tell how pathetic she sounded. Just deflecting and trying to pass the blame.

"Don't you dare put that on me," Weiss hissed, "You made your choices long before we ever met. Now face the consequences." For a moment, the room was filled with tense silence, the four girls frozen in a tableau of broken trust and impossible divisions.

Then Blake turned to the window, glass shattering as she leapt out into the darkness of the Beacon grounds.

"Blake!" Ruby cried out, rushing to the window.

Weiss didn't move, "Let her run. It won't change anything."

Yang whirled on Weiss, eyes crimson with rage, "How could you?! She was one of us!"

"She was never one of us," Weiss replied coldly, "She was living a lie, and you two were fool enough to believe it."

Outside, Blake melted into the shadows of the campus, the broken moon illuminating her path as she ran - not just from Beacon, but from the brief, beautiful dream that she could ever outrun her past. Behind her, she left shattered glass, shattered trust, and the fragments of what might have been a place to call home. No reconciliation waited on the horizon. No understanding to be reached. Only the cold reality that some divides ran too deep to cross, and some sins couldn't be washed away.

The dorm room's atmosphere was tense. Yang stood with her fists clenched, hair glowing with the heat of her semblance, eyes burning crimson as she faced Weiss, "You had no right!" Yang screamed, her voice cracking with emotion, "You just destroyed her life! Where is she supposed to go now?! What is she supposed to do?!"

Weiss remained unmoved, her posture rigid, chin raised defiantly despite Yang's burning anger, "The better question is how many lives did she destroy before she conveniently decided the White Fang was 'too violent' for her tastes?"

"She left them! She was trying to make things right!"

"By lying to us? By infiltrating a Huntress Academy under false pretenses?" Weiss's voice was ice-cold, but her eyes burned with an intensity that matched Yang's fire, "Would you be so quick to forgive and forget if the White Fang targeted Ruby? Or your father? Or anyone else in that island village you call home?" Yang faltered for a moment, clearly shocked by the reversal, "It's so easy to cry forgiveness when you're not the one who dealt with the consequences," Weiss continued, stepping closer, "If Blake had killed one of your old island friends, would you be so quick to hug it out? Would you welcome her with open arms if she'd slaughtered someone you loved?"

"The SDC's got their own fucked up shit," Yang countered, but her voice had lost some of its conviction, "Your daddy's company ruined more lives than-"

"Notice you didn't answer my question," Weiss cut in sharply, "It's always deflection with you. 'But the SDC is bad too!'" she said in a high, mocking voice, "I never claimed my father's business practices were ethical. But the White Fang doesn't target just my father: they target anyone associated with the company. Security guards. Miners who needed the work. Secretaries. Cleaning staff. People whose only crime was needing a paycheck. Why does Blake get to go on to be a Huntress while they have to bury their loved ones?"

Ruby sat on the edge of her bed, tears streaming down her face, "Please stop fighting. We need to find Blake. We need to help her."

"Blake is beyond help now," Weiss said, her voice softening slightly as she looked at Ruby, "She made her choices long before she met us. And I've made mine."

Yang's semblance flared again, "So that's it? You're just going to ruin her life and walk away?"

"Her life was ruined the moment she joined a terrorist organization," Weiss scoffed, "All I'm doing is making sure the truth comes out before someone else gets hurt."

"Gods...you're such a bitch," Yang whispered.

Weiss didn't flinch, "No. I'm just the only one here who understands that actions have consequences."

[line break]

True to her word, the following morning Weiss made her move. She didn't do it quietly or behind closed doors. Instead, she chose the most public venue possible: a press conference on the steps of the Vale Council chambers, where her family's connections had easily secured her a platform. She didn't like the idea of calling her Father for help, but once he found out the situation, it only took one quick phone call to get her the time and space she needed.

Camera flashes exploded around her as she stood at the podium, dressed impeccably in Schnee white, the family emblem prominently displayed on her bolero jacket.

"Thank you all for coming today," she began, her voice clear and unwavering, "I stand before you not just as Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, but as a Huntress-in-training who believes in protecting the innocent from threats both Grimm and human." The reporters leaned forward, sensing that this was no ordinary statement, "It has recently come to my attention that Beacon Academy, under Headmaster Ozpin's leadership, has knowingly admitted a former member of the White Fang terrorist organization into its student body."

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Camera flashes intensified.

"This individual, Blake Belladonna, was not only admitted to the academy but placed on a team with me. The very heiress whose family has been repeatedly targeted by the organization she served. She was given access to advanced combat training, Dust resources, and sensitive information that could easily be channeled back to her former colleagues."

Weiss paused, letting the implications sink in.

"What message does this send when our most prestigious Huntsman Academy harbors those who have actively worked against the kingdoms? What does it say about our standards when we train the very individuals who have destabilized our society? Most importantly, what are we telling the victims of terrorism when we extend such opportunities to those who may have participated in their suffering? That they should forgive? That they should accept that the woman who helped take a family member or a friend should simply be allowed to walk free without consequence?"

A reporter called out, "Ms. Schnee, do you have proof of these allegations?"

"Headmaster Ozpin has confirmed to me personally that he was aware of Ms. Belladonna's background when he admitted her," Weiss replied smoothly, "I invite him to deny this publicly if he wishes. I also invite the Vale Council to investigate this matter thoroughly, as the safety of our kingdom may well be at stake."

Another reporter shouted, "Where is this Blake Belladonna now?"

"She fled Beacon last night, after I confronted her about her past," Weiss answered, letting the implication of guilt hang in the air, "I believe that speaks volumes about her intentions and the validity of my concerns."

The press conference erupted into chaos as reporters shouted questions. Weiss remained composed, answering selectively, painting a picture of institutional failure and dangerous negligence that left no doubt about her message: Ozpin had compromised the integrity of Beacon Academy for reasons unknown.

By noon, the news had spread throughout Vale. By evening, it had reached the other kingdoms.

The Vale Council called an emergency session.

[line break]

Ozpin sat behind his desk, hands steepled in front of him, as the holographic projections of the Council members glared down at him, "This is a public relations nightmare, Ozpin," Councilwoman Hill said, "A terrorist? At Beacon? What were you thinking?"

"Ms. Belladonna is a young woman who made the conscious choice to leave an organization when she recognized it had strayed from its original purpose," Ozpin replied calmly, "I believe in second chances."

"Second chances are for petty criminals and troubled youth," Councilman Jade countered, "Not for members of an organization responsible for hundreds of deaths and millions in property damage."

"The girl is barely seventeen-"

"Which means she was actively involved in the White Fang during their transition to violent tactics," another councilor interrupted, "The timing lines up perfectly with the Dust shop bombings two years ago."

Ozpin took a slow breath, "There is no evidence linking Ms. Belladonna to any specific attack."

"Because the White Fang operates in cells specifically to prevent identification of individual members," Hill snapped, "Don't play games with us, Ozpin. You've put all of Vale at risk with this decision. The headmaster of Beacon Academy deliberately allowing a terrorist to receive Huntress training?! The public is in an uproar!"

"I believe I've made Vale safer by giving a young faunus with exceptional abilities a path away from extremism.

"And now she's disappeared," Jade pointed out, "Perhaps back to her White Fang associates, with whatever intelligence she gathered during her time at your academy. If this Belladonna is so sincere in her regret, why did she run instead of facing the consequences of her actions?"

Ozpin's grip on his coffee mug tightened slightly, the only visible sign of his frustration, "I stand by my decision."

"That's unfortunate," Councilman Rook said coldly, "Because the Council doesn't. We'll be launching a full investigation into your admission practices, and you'll be required to submit detailed background checks on every student currently enrolled. If we find another questionable student in your midst, you'll have a lot of explaining to do."

"And Ms. Schnee," Councilman Jade added, "She'll need to be protected from any potential retaliation. The White Fang has already demonstrated their willingness to target SDC assets. We can't have the SDC heiress becoming a victim on Beacon grounds."

Ozpin nodded once, his expression unreadable, "I'll see to Ms. Schnee's situation personally."

[line break]

The summons to Ozpin's office came the following afternoon. Weiss walked through the academy with her head held high, ignoring the whispers and stares that followed her. Some students looked at her with admiration, others with disdain, but none approached her - the invisible barrier her actions had created kept everyone at a distance.

Ruby and Yang had barely spoken to her since Blake's departure. They'd moved their belongings to the far side of the dorm room, creating a physical divide that mirrored the emotional one. Ruby's eyes were perpetually red-rimmed from crying, while Yang's smoldered with barely contained fury whenever they made eye contact. Weiss paid them no mind. Hypocrites, she thought. So quick to jump to Blake's defense and demonize her because she dared not be comfortable with living with a 'former' terrorist.

The elevator ride to Ozpin's office felt longer than usual. When the doors opened, Weiss was surprised to find not only Ozpin waiting for her, but also Glynda Goodwitch and General Ironwood, who had apparently arrived from Atlas in response to the situation.

"Ms. Schnee," Ozpin greeted her, his voice neutral, "Please, have a seat."

Weiss sat down, back straight, hands folded in her lap, "Headmaster. Professor Goodwitch. General."

"I'll get straight to the point," Ozpin said, hands steepled together, "In light of recent events, we believe it would be in everyone's best interest if you were to continue your education elsewhere."

Weiss raised an eyebrow, "You're expelling me for telling the truth?"

"Not expelling," General Ironwood said. Judging from his tone and the way he looked at the Headmaster, he wasn't happy to be here either, "Transferring. To Atlas Academy, effective immediately."

"I see." Weiss's expression didn't change, "You're removing me rather than addressing the actual problem."

"You've created an untenable situation, Ms. Schnee," Professor Goodwitchsaid tersely, "You've undermined the headmaster's authority, damaged Beacon's reputation, and compromised the safety of a fellow student."

"A fellow student who was a member of a terrorist organization," Weiss countered, "I notice none of you have denied that fact."

Ozpin leaned forward, "Ms. Belladonna deserved the chance to rebuild her life."

"And the people who died at the hands of the White Fang? Did they deserve to have their killer walk free, given elite combat training, with no justice served?" Weiss's voice remained level, but her eyes had hardened, "What about the next victims when she inevitably returns to her old colleagues?"

"You don't know that she would have," Ozpin replied.

"And you don't know that she wouldn't," Weiss shot back, "But you were willing to gamble with innocent lives to find out." A heavy silence filled the office. Because what could they say, really? Was she wrong to not want to live under the same room as a Faunus terrorist? If they said so out loud, no amount of justifications would allow them to save face.

"Your airship to Atlas leaves this evening," Ozpin finally said, "General Ironwood will personally escort you to ensure your safety."

"Good." Weiss stood up, smoothing her combat skirt, "I fought for the right to attend Beacon because I thought you were the best of the four academies. That I could learn more here than I ever could in Atlas." Her gaze swept across all three of them, landing finally on Ozpin, "I've never been more disappointed."

"For what it's worth, Ms. Schnee," Ozpin said as she turned to leave, "I hope one day you'll understand that forgiveness is not weakness. It is perhaps the most difficult strength to cultivate."

Weiss paused at the elevator. "How convenient for Blake that forgiveness requires her to not face any consequences for her past actions. That's not forgiveness, Headmaster. That's coddling and enabling." She stepped inside and ignored the old man's look of disappointment. She was beyond caring what he thought of her.

[line break]

In the dim dorm room, Ruby sat on Blake's empty bed, holding the black ribbon her teammate had left behind in her hurried escape. Yang paced back and forth, muttering curses under her breath, "She's being transferred?" Ruby asked, her voice small, "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Yang confirmed, punching her palm, "Atlas Academy. Ironwood's taking her tonight."

"So our team is just... gone?"

Yang stopped pacing and sat beside her sister, putting an arm around her shoulders, "I don't know what happens now, Rubes. I guess they'll reassign us, or..."

The door opened, and Weiss walked in. Both sisters stiffened, watching as she went to her side of the room and began methodically packing her belongings into pristine white suitcases. For several minutes, no one spoke. The only sound was the soft rustling of clothing and the occasional click of Dust containers being secured.

"So you're really leaving," Ruby finally said.

Weiss didn't look up, "Yes."

"Does that make you happy?" Yang demanded, "You got what you wanted. Blake's gone. Now you're gone. Our team's gone."

"I didn't want any of this," Weiss replied, her voice tight, "I wanted honesty. I wanted accountability. I wanted to attend an academy that didn't harbor terrorists."

"Blake was changing," Ruby insisted, tears welling in her eyes again, "She left the White Fang because she wanted to do better."

"Perhaps." Weiss closed one suitcase with a crisp snap, "But you don't get to wipe away blood with good intentions."

Yang stood up, fists clenched, "You don't even care, do you? About what happens to her? About what happens to us?"

Weiss finally looked up, and for the briefest moment, there was something vulnerable in her ice-blue eyes, "I care about justice. I care about the people who never got to have second chances because the White Fang decided they didn't deserve to live."

"You could have handled it differently," Ruby said softly, "We could have helped her make amends, do better, actually make a difference!"

"And who would that have brought back from the dead?" Weiss asked quietly, "The security guard with two children? The Dust miners buried in a collapsed tunnel? My mother's best friend who disappeared three years ago, whose body was never found?" She let out a frustrated breath, "You never did answer my question, Yang. If Blake and her merry little band of extremists killed someone you knew, would you be arguing that I made the wrong choice?"

Neither of them answered. Typical.

Weiss returned to her packing, "General Ironwood is waiting for me. I have an airship to catch."

Yang turned away, looking out the window at the Beacon grounds below, "I hope Atlas is everything you want it to be, Schnee."

"It won't be," Weiss replied, so softly they almost didn't hear her, "But at least it won't be built on lies." She picked up her suitcases and walked to the door, pausing one last time to look at the room that had briefly been her home, at the teammates who had briefly been her friends. For a moment, Weiss was tempted to say something more - something kinder, something that might bridge the gulf between them. If not reconcile, at least leave on a less bitter note.

But the moment passed. With a small nod, Weiss walked out of Team RWBY's dorm room for the last time, leaving behind the broken pieces of what could have been.

[line break]

The cargo container reeked of fish and salt, the stench so potent it made Blake's eyes water. But the smell was the least of her concerns as the ship lurched violently in the rough waters between Vale and... wherever this vessel was headed. She'd stopped caring about the destination days ago. Anywhere but Vale and Solitas would suffice.

Blake pressed her back against the cold metal wall, knees drawn to her chest, her newly shorn hair barely brushing her shoulders. The rough scissors she'd used had made a mess of it, but that was the point. To look different, to be unrecognizable. The bow was gone too, snagged against the window when she jumped out the dorm room. Her faunus ears were exposed to the damp air, twitching at every creak and groan of the ship's hull.

She hadn't seen daylight in three days, emerging from her hiding spot only during the darkest hours of night to steal water from the ship's stores. Food was whatever she could scavenge - stale bread, canned goods with labels worn away, anything she could take without being noticed.

A small portable scroll she'd picked up on the black market in Vale's seedier districts was her only window to the outside world (her old one shattered and thrown to the bottom of the harbor. Its screen cast a pale blue glow over her face as she scrolled through news reports, each one worse than the last.

BEACON ACADEMY SCANDAL: WHITE FANG INFILTRATOR EXPOSED

SCHNEE HEIRESS NARROWLY ESCAPES ASSASSINATION PLOT

VALE COUNCIL LAUNCHES INVESTIGATION INTO HUNTSMAN ACADEMIES

SDC INCREASES SECURITY AFTER TERRORIST THREAT

Her own face stared back at her from every report - not her Beacon school photo, but an old White Fang propaganda image someone had dug up. Blake in her White Fang mask, standing beside Adam, fist raised in defiance. Jacques Schnee's media machine had worked overtime, crafting a narrative that painted her as Adam's right hand, sent to Beacon specifically to eliminate the Schnee heiress. The SDC was just another victim from those dirty Animals.

The irony was bitter. She'd shared a room with Weiss for weeks. If she'd wanted to harm her, she'd had countless opportunities, "God damn it..." Blake whispered, closing the news feed. The Schnee patriarch had transformed her from a former White Fang member seeking redemption into a bloodthirsty assassin lying in wait. The public ate it up. It was far more sensational than the truth.

More painful were the statements from the White Fang itself. Adam had released a video, his masked face filling the screen as he condemned her as a traitor to the cause, a deserter who had abandoned her people to curry favor with humans. The organization had formally disavowed her, declaring that Blake Belladonna was no longer welcome among their ranks. He even brought up how she attacked their Brothers and Sisters at the docks. Which was, of course, disregarded by the legitimate news networks as another false flag operation.

She was caught in a lethal crossfire. Hunted by the authorities as a dangerous terrorist and branded a traitor by her former comrades. The White Fang wouldn't actively hunt her down - they had more important things to worry about than a disillusioned teenager - but she couldn't expect any help or sanctuary from faunus communities influenced by the organization.

She thought about Menagerie. Home. Or what had been home, before she'd run away to join the White Fang, before she'd spat in her parents' faces and call them cowards for seeking peaceful solutions. The thought of facing her father made her stomach clench with shame. And her mother, whose letters she'd ignored for years. How could she return now, a failure, a fugitive, with nothing to show for her years away but a trail of destruction?

But what choice did she have? Vale was lost to her. Atlas was Schnee territory. Vacuo might offer anonymity, but its harsh desert climate and lawless society would be difficult to navigate without connections. And Mistral's complex social hierarchies and widespread discrimination against faunus made it nearly as dangerous as Atlas.

She could try to disappear into some remote village in the hinterlands of Anima or the badlands of Vacuo, places so isolated they barely received CCT signals. Places where news traveled slowly, if at all. But surviving in places like that without resources or support would be challenging at best, fatal at worst. Menagerie, for all its flaws - overcrowded, under-resourced, effectively a glorified reservation for faunus - offered her best chance. Her parents' position might shield her... assuming they were willing to take her back.

Blake leaned her head against the cold metal wall, amber eyes staring into the darkness. Her dream of becoming a Huntress, of making a difference and redeeming herself through protecting others - all of it shattered in a single night. No academy would accept her now, not with her face plastered across every news outlet as a dangerous terrorist.

She thought of her teammates. Ruby's unwavering optimism, her belief that they could work things out. Yang's fierce loyalty, her readiness to stand between Blake and danger. Even Weiss... before everything fell apart, there had been moments when Blake thought they might understand each other, move past their histories.

But Weiss had proven her wrong. And maybe Weiss had been right to do so. Maybe some sins couldn't be forgiven, some bridges couldn't be rebuilt once burned. Her gut burned with indignation. Weiss' family had done horrible things to her race under the guise of legality because it was profitable. How was this any different?

The ship lurched suddenly, sending Blake sliding across the damp floor of the container. Outside, she could hear shouting, the heavy footfalls of the crew moving with urgency. She crawled to the small air vent that allowed her to hear what happened on deck, pressing her sensitive cat ear against it.

"Atlas military vessel, two o'clock!" someone shouted. "They're signaling for us to stop for inspection!"

Blake's blood ran cold. Atlas military meant Schnee influence. The SDC had likely paid for increased patrols, especially on routes to going anywhere but Solitas.

"What are they looking for?" another voice asked.

"What do you think? That White Fang girl from Beacon. The one who was after the Schnee girl."

"She wouldn't be stupid enough to board a commercial vessel, would she?"

"Desperate people do desperate things. And the bounty's high enough that they're checking everything."

Blake retreated from the vent, heart pounding. She needed to move, now. If they found her here, there would be no escape, no second chances. She grabbed her meager belongings - Gambol Shroud, the scroll, a canteen of water, and what little food she had left - and stuffed them into a small pack. Then she pried open a maintenance hatch in the floor of the container that she'd discovered on her first day aboard. It led to a narrow crawlspace between the cargo hold's floor and the ship's hull.

As she lowered herself into the tight space, Blake wondered if this would be her life now. Always running, always hiding, never able to stay in one place for long. A ghost fleeing from her past with no future to run toward.

She thought of Adam, of the path he'd chosen, of how his hatred had consumed him until violence became not just a tactic but an end in itself. She'd left to avoid becoming like him, but now she was trapped in a different kind of cage.

The distant sound of boots on metal reached her sensitive ears as the inspection began. Blake pulled the hatch closed above her and began the slow, painful process of worming her way through the cramped crawlspace toward the stern of the ship. There was a small maintenance door there that led to the outside - meant for emergency repairs at sea, but it would serve as her escape route if needed.

The irony wasn't lost on her. Once again, Blake Belladonna was running away. It was what she did best, after all. Run from the White Fang when their methods became too extreme. Run from Beacon when her past caught up with her. Run from the authorities who saw her as a terrorist and the former allies who saw her as a traitor.

But where do you run when the whole world is hunting you? When your face is known across every kingdom? When both sides of a conflict you tried to leave behind want you dead or imprisoned?

As she inched her way through the darkness, Blake realized she had no answer. Her second chance was gone, shattered by Weiss's unyielding sense of 'justice' and her own inability to outrun her past. Her dream of being a Huntress - of using her skills to protect the innocent rather than terrorize the guilty - had slipped beyond her reach, perhaps forever. All that remained was survival. One day at a time. One hiding place to the next. And the faint, fading hope that someday, somehow, she might find a third chance in a world that rarely offered second ones.

Above her, the sound of the inspection grew closer. Blake held her breath and pressed herself against the cold metal of the ship's hull.

And waited for her next opportunity to run.

[line break]

OOF. Yeah, like I said, this is heavy. No happy ending, no reconciliation, just a team completely shattered. Blake's a fugitive, Weiss has completely lost faith in Ozpin and Beacon, and Ruby and Yang are just checked out completely. Assuming stuff like the Fall is still in place, Cinder must be gleefully running her hands together about how Weiss just made her job of spreading negativity way easier.

Question:

1. The obvious one. Do you think Weiss was right and/or justified to do what she did? From what I gather, the White Fang has been targeting the SDC since Weiss was a child. Unjustifiably? No, we hear about all the awful things the SDC has done. But Weiss would've been a target since she was a child and that would shape her view heavily growing up.

Likewise, was Blake justified to run instead of staying to deal with the aftermath? Weiss brushes away her company's actions, but unlike Blake, she wasn't an active participant given that she was a child and then a teenager for the worst of it whereas Blake was actively helping plans and participating in raids. Even if she never directly killed innocent people, she assisted Adam and others that did.

In Her Sights - Jaune x May Chapter 3 of 3

Last chapter for this oneshot-turned-threeshot. Poor Weiss.

For patrons - Maid Jaune coming soon-ish. Got distracted by this, but don't worry, we'll soon see Yang using Jaune to deal with her mommy issues!

[line break]

Weiss had spent exactly twenty-seven minutes making sure Jaune and Pyrrha would be gone for at least two hours. She'd mentioned something about a special combat training session with Professor Goodwitch that she'd arranged specifically for them. It didn't take much for the Professor to agree. Jaune's combat performance was... lackluster at best. The best thing she could say about him was that he was a good meat shield, but that was backhanded praise at best. Pyrrha, of course, chose to go with him out of misplaced pity.

"May," she announced to the apparently empty room, "I know you're watching. It's time." Silence. Weiss tapped her foot impatiently, "Don't make me find you again. You know I can." More silence. Weiss sighed dramatically, "Fine. I'll just go get Jaune and tell him all about our little chat on the clocktower. I'm sure he'd be fascinated to hear-"

The walkie-talkie on Jaune's desk crackled to life, "That's blackmail. Over."

"I prefer to think of it as motivation," Weiss replied smoothly, "Now, get over here. We had a deal."

"I'm busy. Surveillance. Very important. Can't leave my post. Over."

"Your 'post' is probably the tree outside our window, and the only thing you're surveilling is Jaune walking to a training session that he desperately needs." Weiss crossed her arms, "Either you come to me, or I go find you and bring Jaune along for the adventure. Your choice."

A high-pitched squeak came through the walkie-talkie, followed by what sounded suspiciously like someone hitting their head on a branch. Five minutes later, their dorm room window slid open from the outside. May slipped in with the silent grace of someone who'd done this many times before... despite the fact that they were on the third floor. Her beanie was (still) pulled low over her left eye, and she was clutching her walkie-talkie like a lifeline.

Weiss just glared at her, "We have a door, you know."

May shrugged, looking everywhere but at Weiss, "Windows are more secure. Less witnesses. Over."

"You don't have to say 'over' when we're in the same room."

May's visible eye widened in panic, "I... don't?"

Weiss sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. This was going to be harder than she thought, "Let's get to the point. You and Jaune are going on a date."

"WHAT?!" May squeaked, nearly dropping her walkie-talkie. She fumbled for it, clutching it to her chest, "No, no, no! I can't- I don't- That's not- "

"It's happening," Weiss said firmly, moving past May toward her immaculately organized closet, "And I'm going to help you prepare."

May backed up until she hit the wall, her hand already reaching for the window, "This isn't what we agreed to! I thought you'd just... I don't know, make me attend a class or something!"

"That comes later," Weiss said, rifling through her clothes with a critical eye, "But first, we need to address the root of the problem." She pulled out a pale blue dress, holding it up with a critical eye, "And you're certainly not going on a date wearing... that." She made an offended gesture to the sniper's attire. May glanced down at her ensemble, a pink and brown tracksuit with multiple pockets and utility belts. Perfect for someone whose entire personality revolved around hiding in trees.

"What's wrong with-"

"Everything," Weiss cut her off, "Absolutely everything. Thankfully for you, I'm feeling generous enough to lend you one of my dresses." She held the blue garment out, "Now take off that jacket so I can see what I'm working with."

May's hand went to her zipper, then froze, "I... um..."

"We don't have all day, May." Weiss tapped her foot

Gulping audibly, May slowly lowered the zipper of her jacket and shrugged it off her shoulders.

Weiss' jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. The dress she'd been holding almost slipped from her suddenly limp fingers. Where Weiss had expected a slender, athletic build similar to her own, she instead found herself staring at what could only be described as two watermelons strapped to May's chest. The sniper's previously baggy tracksuit had been concealing a figure that would make even Yang Xiao Long look twice. Did that tracksuit have gravity Dust to hide those, she thought numbly.

"I... they... it's just..." May stammered, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, "It was puberty. Hit me all at once when I was fifteen. It's... It's another reason I got too shy to talk to Jaune face-to-face."

Weiss continued to stare, her brain momentarily failing to process what she was seeing. Then, she looked down at the modest blue dress in her hands, back up at May's chest, and wordlessly tossed the garment aside, "I'm not jealous," Weiss announced unprompted, her voice several octaves higher than usual for no reason whatsoever, "Not at all. I certainly don't feel inadequate in any way."

May blinked in confusion, "I didn't say - "

"Breasts are just useless lumps of fat anyway," Weiss continued, her cheeks flushing pink, "Completely impractical for combat. A hindrance, really. I'm sure you have all sorts of back problems."

"Well, sometimes-"

"Exactly! And they'd just get in the way during complex glyph formations," Weiss barreled on, now pacing back and forth, "Really, I should be thanking my genes for my perfect, streamlined physique. Optimal for a Huntress of my caliber. Yes." May stood frozen in place, clearly unsure how to respond to Weiss' unexpected (yet very justified) rant. Weiss finally stopped pacing, took a deep breath, and turned to face May with forced composure, "Anyway. Clearly none of my clothes will... accommodate your... situation."

"I could just wear my normal-"

"Absolutely not," Weiss cut her off again, "We'll need to go shopping. But first-" she gestured to the beanie covering half of May's face, "-what's with that? Is there actually something under there, or is it just for your whole 'mysterious sniper' aesthetic?"

May's hand flew protectively to her beanie, "Don't touch it!"

"I wasn't going to," Weiss said, taking a step back at May's sudden intensity, "But if you're going on a date, you might want to, I don't know, show your entire face?"

"The beanie stays," May said with surprising firmness, all shyness forgotten, "Non-negotiable."

Weiss threw up her hands, "Fine! Keep your mysterious half-face! But the tracksuit goes, and so does the walkie-talkie."

May clutched the device closer, "But - "

"No buts! You can't go on a date and talk through a walkie-talkie! It's ridiculous!"

"Then I can't go," May said, her voice small but resolute, "The walkie-talkie stays, or I stay invisible."

Weiss closed her eyes, silently counting to ten. When she opened them again, May was still there, still clutching the walkie-talkie, still partially hidden behind her beanie. But there was something in her stance - a vulnerability beneath the awkwardness - that made Weiss hesitate.

"Okay," she said finally, pincing the bridge of her nose,"We'll... work up to that. Baby steps."

[line break]

Weiss tugged May through the streets of Vale, ignoring the sniper's constant stream of protests crackling through the walkie-talkie clutched in her hand. She'd confiscated it the moment they'd left campus, allowing May only periodic check-ins to prevent another ear-shattering shriek episode. The last thing she needed was a reputation for her team causing public disturbances down in Vale.

"This is completely unnecessary," May said, voice tinny and anxious even without the walkie talkie's distortion, "I can just wear my usual gear. It's practical. Tactical. Over."

"You're not going on a date in a tracksuit," Weiss hissed, keeping her voice low as they navigated the busy sidewalk, "And you're certainly not going invisible halfway through dinner, which I know is exactly what you're planning."

"There's nothing wrong with strategic withdrawals. Over."

Weiss rolled her eyes. At least May had agreed to come along, even if she was constantly checking rooftops and alleyways like they were on some kind of covert mission instead of a shopping trip. Getting her on the airship to Vale had been a challenge in and of itself. May insisted on wearing sunglasses over her visible eye, in addition to her ever-present beanie, making her look less like a Huntress-in-training and more like a particularly suspicious bank robber.

"Here we are," Weiss announced, stopping in front of a gleaming storefront with tasteful window displays, "Chandelier Rose. The most exclusive boutique in Vale." She sniffed slightly, "It's no Snowpetal of Atlas, but it'll have to do."

May froze on the sidewalk, visible eye widening as she took in the elegant mannequins and crystal chandeliers visible through the windows, "I can't go in there," she whispered, voice cracking, "Everyone will stare at me. Over."

"They're already staring at you," Weiss pointed out. It was true - May's combination of tracksuit, beanie pulled low over half her face, and obvious discomfort was drawing more than a few curious glances from passersby, "You stick out like a Beowolf at a tea party. Now come on." Before May could protest further, Weiss grabbed her by the arm and pulled her through the boutique's doors. A small bell tinkled pleasantly, announcing their arrival.

"Welcome to Chandelier Rose," a saleswoman greeted them, her practiced smile faltering slightly as she took in May's appearance, "How may I... assist you today?"

"We need a dress," Weiss stated firmly, "Something elegant but not overly formal. And it needs to be..." she glanced at May's chest with a brief flash of irritation, "...accommodating."

The saleswoman's professional instincts kicked in as she saw Weiss' attire. An expensive customer, "Of course. What's the occasion?"

"A date," Weiss said just as May blurted, "Tactical reconnaissance." The saleswoman blinked, "A date," Weiss repeated more firmly, shooting May a warning glare.

"Wonderful! Please, feel free to browse. I'll be right here if you need any assistance."

Weiss steered May toward a rack of dresses, keeping a firm grip on the walkie-talkie. May was squirming uncomfortably, visibly flinching whenever another customer walked past. Her hand kept twitching toward the walkie-talkie Weiss held hostage, "Stop that," Weiss hissed, "You look like you're about to rob the place."

"Too exposed," May muttered, "No clear sight lines. Inadequate exit routes. Multiple civilian witnesses. Over."

"It's a clothing store, not a combat zone. Of coruse there are civilians" Weiss sighed, flipping through the dresses with her free hand, "Ah, this one might work." She pulled out a maroon dress with buttons down the front. The fabric looked sturdy, the cut modest enough for a first date but still flattering. Most importantly, it seemed to have room for May's... assets, "Try this on," Weiss said, thrusting the dress at May.

May stared at it like Weiss was handing her a detonating Dust crystal, "Here?"

"In the dressing room," Weiss said, pointing to the back of the store where several elegant curtained booths stood, "I'll wait right outside." May looked from the dress to the dressing room to the door, clearly calculating her chances of escape, "Don't even think about it," Weiss warned, waving the walkie-talkie like a hostage, "I'm keeping this until you're done. Any funny moves and we're going to see just how our little friend here takes a being flung off the CCT tower."

"G-Give it to me! I'll change after I have it!" May reached for it.

"You'll get it back after you've tried on the dress. I know you, May Zedong. The moment I turn my back, you'll shimmy out through the air vent or something equally ridiculous."

May's expression suggested that was exactly what she'd been planning. With the reluctance of someone approaching the gallows, May took the dress and slunk toward the dressing room. Weiss followed close behind, positioning herself strategically outside the curtain. She had no doubt that May would try to slip away given half a chance.

"Everything okay in there?" Weiss called after several minutes of suspicious rustling.

"This isn't going to work," May's muffled voice replied, "The... proportions are all wrong. Over."

"You need to stop saying 'over' in normal conversation," Weiss muttered, "And I specifically chose something with room for your... situation."

More rustling, followed by a string of muttered curses, "It buttons in the front."

"That's generally how a lot of dresses work, yes."

"No, I mean-" May's voice was strained, "-the buttons are under a lot of... pressure."

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, "Just do your best. We need to see how it looks. We can make adjustments as we go."

After what seemed like an eternity, the curtain rustled. May stepped out reluctantly, eyes fixed on the floor. The dress was a lovely color against her skin and complimented her hair, Weiss had to admit. The cut flattered her waist and fell to just above her knees. But something was definitely wrong with the front. The buttons strained visibly across May's chest, gaps appearing between them where the fabric was pulled too tight.

Weiss looked her up and down critically, trying to ignore the clash between the elegant dress and May's ridiculous beanie and worn sneakers. Her gaze stopped when she reached the buttons on May's chest. Was that button... shaking?

"Um, I don't think-" May started.

PING!

The top button shot off like a bullet fired from May's own sniper rifle, launched with enough force to create a miniature sonic boom in the quiet boutique. Weiss' Huntress-trained reflexes kicked in instantly. She ducked, feeling the button whiz past her ear with alarming speed. It smacked against the bench behind her with a crack, ricocheted toward the wall, and proceeded to bounce wildly around the store like a hyperactive pinball.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

Customers ducked. A saleswoman shrieked. The security guard reached for his radio.

And then, in a final act of cosmic mockery, the button completed its chaotic journey by flying directly back toward them... and smacking Weiss squarely in the middle of her forehead with enough force to make her Aura flicker and her head snap back.

The store fell deathly silent.

Weiss stood frozen, a small red mark forming between her eyes, her expression one of perfect, blank shock, "It wasn't my fault," May stuttered, clutching the front of the dress closed while simultaneously trying to make herself as small as possible, "They're just... they're just... I told you the proportions were wrong!"

Weiss' eye twitched. That button alone would cost 3.50 lien to replace, not to mention the potential damage to the store and her dignity. And the potential lawsuit if it had hit a civilian instead of a Huntress with Aura. She forced her lips into what she intended to be a smile but probably looked more like a grimace that'd been beaten into submission.

"We're going to find another dress," she said through clenched teeth, "One without buttons."

[line break]

This wasn't how Weiss Schnee imagined spending her Saturday afternoon in Vale.

She'd had a plan - a perfect, reasonable plan. May and Jaune would go on their date. May would stop being a social disaster. The invisible teammate nonsense would end. And Weiss could finally enjoy being at Beacon, away from her father's constant pressure and partnered with the Invincible Girl.

But of course, that didn't happen because May Zedong was... well, May Zedong.

"You'll need to maintain visual contact at all times," May had insisted the night before, pacing their dorm room while Jaune was in the shower, "Optimal distance: 50 to 75 feet. Any closer risks detection, any further compromises surveillance quality."

Weiss had stared at her in disbelief, "You want me to spy on your date?"

"Not spy," May had corrected, adjusting her beanie nervously, "Provide tactical support. I haven't engaged in direct social contact in two years. I need backup."

"That's what the date is supposed to fix!"

"I can't go in cold," May had insisted, that edge of panic creeping into her voice that Weiss had come to recognize as the precursor to either May disappearing or having one of her electronic-death-scream episodes, "I need someone monitoring the situation. Providing intelligence. Recommending courses of action."

"So I'm just supposed to be a third wheel?" Weiss had demanded, "Hide in a bush while you two have dinner?"

May's face had lit up, "Exactly! But not a bush. Poor sight lines." She'd pulled out a set of high-tech binoculars from one of her many hidden pockets, "These have a built-in directional microphone. You'll be able to hear everything. And I'll keep my walkie-talkie. If I need advice, I'll call you."

Weiss had wanted to refuse. This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. But May had started trembling, her visible eye darting toward the window (her preferred escape route), and Weiss had known she'd invested far too much into this madness to stop now.

"Fine," she'd snapped, "But this is the last time I'm enabling your... whatever this is."

And so here she was, perched on a bench 53 feet away (May had insisted on precise measurements) from "Brewed Awakening," the coffee shop where May and Jaune were meeting. The high-tech binoculars were disguised as a normal pair, though the directional microphone attachment made them look bulkier than usual. She'd tucked her white hair under a baseball cap and wore sunglasses, feeling utterly ridiculous.

"This is so stupid," she muttered to herself, adjusting the focus on the binoculars, "I'm a Schnee. We don't hide in plain sight to spy on other people's dates."

That was a lie, of course. Her sister Winter had absolutely done reconnaissance missions for the Atlesian military. But those had been for national security, not... whatever this was.

Through the binoculars, she spotted Jaune arriving first. He looked surprisingly presentable - she'd forced him to wear something other than his usual hoodie, and he'd actually managed to find a decent blue button-up shirt and clean pants. He was shifting his weight nervously, checking his scroll every few seconds.

"Target in position," Weiss muttered sarcastically, "Blonde Shield looks like he's about to flee."

Two minutes later, May appeared, walking stiffly toward the coffee shop. Weiss had to admit, despite everything, she'd done a decent job with the sniper's appearance. The maroon dress - carefully selected to have no buttons and extra room in the chest - flattered May's figure without being too revealing. She'd replaced her usual sneakers with sandals that matched the dress nicely.

But of course, the stupid beanie remained firmly in place, covering half her face.

Weiss adjusted the microphone, picking up their conversation as they met outside the shop.

"M-May?" Jaune sounded like he'd seen a ghost. Which, in a way, he had, "Is that... really you?"

May stood awkwardly, clutching her ever-present walkie-talkie, "Affirmative, Jaune. Visual confirmation achieved."

Jaune took a step forward, then stopped, clearly unsure of the protocol for greeting someone you've talked to daily but haven't actually seen in two years, "You look... different."

"Tactical circumstances required appearance adjustment," May replied, falling back on her military jargon. Then, softer, "Weiss helped."

"Well, you look... wow." Jaune was staring at May with an expression of wonder, like he was seeing the sun for the first time. He finally broke into that goofy smile of his, "It's really good to see you again, May. Like, actually see you."

May shuffled her feet, visibly fighting the urge to either bolt or raise the walkie-talkie to her mouth, "Surveillance indicates cafe is at 62% capacity. Acceptable crowd density. Shall we proceed inside?"

Jaune laughed, the sound carrying clearly through the microphone, "Some things never change, huh? Sure, let's go in."

As they walked into the coffee shop, Weiss quickly relocated to a position with a better view through the window. She felt utterly ridiculous, like the world's most uninterested stalker. This was beneath her dignity as a Schnee, as a Huntress, as a normal human being with better things to do on a Saturday.

She watched as they found a table by the window (May's choice, no doubt - optimal escape route) and settled in. The directional microphone picked up their conversation with surprising clarity.

"So," Jaune started, "two years as my invisible protector, huh? That's... dedicated."

May's hand crept toward her walkie-talkie before she visibly forced it back to her lap, "Mission parameters required constant surveillance. You have a remarkable talent for finding trouble."

"Yeah, but... why?"

Weiss leaned forward slightly, genuinely curious about how May would answer.

"I..." May's usual confidence faltered, "Strategic reasons. Increased operational security."

"May," Jaune said gently, "we've been friends since we were six. You used to come to my house for dinner every Tuesday. You helped me build a treehouse in my backyard. Then one day, you just... disappeared. I mean, you were there, but not there. I've missed you."

May's visible eye widened, and she glanced out the window - directly at where Weiss was sitting. Weiss ducked slightly, cursing under her breath.

The walkie-talkie at her side crackled, "Ice Queen, requesting immediate tactical advice. Target has expressed emotional sentiment. Appropriate response unclear. Over."

Weiss groaned, pressing the button, "Tell him you missed him too, you absolute disaster. Over."

Through the binoculars, she saw May take a deep breath and turn back to Jaune, "I... missed you too. Being visible is... challenging for me now. But I'm trying."

Jaune's expression softened, "Hey, that's all I can ask for. One step at a time, right? And maybe someday you'll tell me what actually happened two years ago?"

May stiffened slightly, "Classified information."

"Right," Jaune laughed, "Of course it is."

Weiss had to admit, the idiot was handling this remarkably well. She'd expected him to be his usual bumbling self, but he was being patient, understanding even. It was... almost impressive.

As their coffees arrived, Weiss continued her reluctant surveillance. May, at least, had replaced her sneakers with more appropriate sandals that matched the maroon dress, even if she still refused to take off that stupid beanie. Not that Jaune noticed. He just looked stunned and then happy to see his childhood friend again. Weiss didn't know whether to be impressed or annoyed that his eyes didn't flick once to those useless lumps of fat despite Weiss choosing a dress to flatter the sniper's grotesque figure.

Weiss watched the unfolding catastrophe through her binoculars with a grimace that grew deeper by the minute. This wasn't a date. This was a slow-motion train wreck. Inside the coffee shop, May sat with perfect military posture, her back ramrod straight, hands placed precisely on either side of her mug. She hadn't taken a single sip. Every time Jaune asked a question, she responded with the shortest possible answer, usually in terminology better suited for a mission briefing than a coffee date.

"So, what have you been up to these past two years?" Jaune asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

"Surveillance. Target protection. Skill enhancement," May replied mechanically. She'd become even more robotic than usual.

"No, but like... what do you do for fun? Do you still like those mystery novels? Remember how we used to read them together in my backyard?"

May's visible eye darted around the room, cataloging exits and potential threats, "Recreational activities minimized. Operational efficiency prioritized."

Jaune's smile dimmed slightly, "Right..."

The conversation lapsed into awkward silence - the third one in ten minutes. May fidgeted with her napkin, folding it into increasingly precise triangles. Jaune took a long sip of his coffee, clearly scrambling for another topic.

"Excuse me," May said suddenly, standing up, "Bathroom break required."

Weiss barely had time to reposition herself before the walkie-talkie at her side crackled to life.

"Ice Queen, this is Beanie One. Conversation parameters failing. Require immediate conversational reinforcement. Over."

Weiss pressed the button with more force than necessary, "Ask him about his family! You've known them forever, haven't you? Talk about something normal, for Brothers' sake! Over!"

"Family status inquiry. Confirmed effective strategy. Implementing immediately. Over."

Weiss watched through the binoculars as May returned to the table, her stride purposeful like she was approaching a combat zone rather than a coffee date, "Jaune," she announced as she sat down, with all the warmth of a military commander, "Provide status update on familial units."

Jaune blinked, "You mean... my family?"

"Affirmative."

"Uh, they're good? Saphron got married last year - I think I mentioned that over the walkie-talkie? My mom keeps asking when I'll visit. Dad's still head of the Militia. He said the offer to teach sharpshooting to the guys is still on the table."

"Excellent intelligence. Processing."

Another excruciating silence followed. Jaune valiantly tried again, "How about your mom? She still making those amazing cookies?"

"Maternal unit continues baking operations. Cookie production uninterrupted." Weiss buried her face in her hands. This was going even worse than she'd anticipated. May couldn't hold a normal conversation if her life depended on it.

After thirty agonizing minutes of watching this disaster unfold, with May excusing herself to the "bathroom" no fewer than seven times to request conversational backup, they finally left the coffee shop.

"That was... nice," Jaune said, ever the optimist, "Maybe we could walk through the park? It's a beautiful day."

Weiss repositioned herself, following at a safe distance as they headed toward Vale Central Park. May walked beside Jaune with at least three feet of space between them, clutching her walkie-talkie in a death grip. Every time a civilian passed too close, her hand twitched toward where Weiss suspected she had a concealed weapon.

The park was bustling with weekend activity. Families having picnics, couples walking hand-in-hand, street performers entertaining small crowds. The moment they stepped through the wrought-iron gates, May's demeanor changed dramatically. Her eye darted frantically from person to person, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. Her knuckles whitened around the walkie-talkie. She stopped walking entirely, frozen in place like a startled deer.

"May?" Jaune asked, concerned, "You okay?"

"Too many... Too many civilians," May gasped, sounding nothing like her usual confident self, "No clear sight lines. Multiple unknown variables. Tactical disadvantage. I need... I need..."

She looked like she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Jaune, to his credit, immediately guided her to a less crowded area, finding a bench partially secluded by trees, "Hey, it's okay," he said gently, "Just breathe. We can go somewhere else."

Weiss's walkie-talkie crackled urgently, "Emergency extraction required! Civilian density exceeding tolerable parameters! Over!"

"For Brothers' sake, May, it's just a park!" Weiss hissed into the device, "Take a deep breath and stop acting like you're in enemy territory! Over!"

Through the binoculars, Weiss saw May visibly trying to compose herself, her chest rising and falling with deliberately controlled breaths. Jaune sat patiently beside her, not touching, just offering his presence, "Operational control regained," May finally reported, both to Jaune and through the walkie-talkie. Jaune gracefully chose not to comment on it. Thank the Brothers Weiss was masking her voice. The last thing she needed was for this to be traced back to her, "Alternative venue recommended."

Jaune considered for a moment, "How about the movies? It's dark, not a lot of people talk, and we can sit at the back if that makes you more comfortable?"

May seemed to consider this, her tactical mind whirring almost visibly behind her visible eye, "Acceptable alternative. Darkness provides cover." They left the park, heading toward the cinema several blocks away. Weiss followed, growing increasingly irritated with every step. This was not how she'd planned to spend her Saturday.

The movie theater was showing some action film with explosions and car chases - exactly the kind of mindless entertainment that might be perfect for this disaster of a date. Jaune purchased tickets while May conducted what appeared to be a thorough security assessment of the lobby.

As they entered the dimly lit theater, Weiss slipped in several rows behind them, keeping her cap pulled low. May had insisted on seats in the back corner, providing an unobstructed view of all exits and other patrons. For a brief moment, as the lights dimmed fully and the trailers began, Weiss dared to hope this might actually work. The dark environment seemed to calm May. Jaune offered her some popcorn, and she actually took a handful.

Then the first action sequence played: a dramatic sniper scene where the protagonist took out targets from a rooftop.

"Completely unrealistic," May announced loudly enough for several nearby patrons to turn around, "That rifle has insufficient muzzle velocity for the depicted range. And his firing position is tactically unsound," Jaune hushed her gently, but the damage was done. May began a running commentary on every tactical error in the film, growing increasingly agitated, "That's not how you clear a room! Amateur technique! He'd be dead in seconds!"

"May," Jaune whispered, "it's just a movie."

"It's dangerous misinformation," May replied, not lowering her voice at all, "If someone attempted that maneuver in the field, they'd-"

A patron two rows ahead turned around, "Can you please be quiet?"

May's eye widened, her hand immediately reaching for what Weiss strongly suspected was a hidden grenade. Weiss tensed, ready to intervene, but Jaune smoothly placed his hand over May's.

"Sorry about that," he called to the annoyed moviegoer, then leaned closer to May, "Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Want to try something else?"

May nodded stiffly, already rising from her seat with military precision. Weiss waited until they exited before following, increasingly tempted to abandon this whole fiasco.

The walkie-talkie crackled, "Cinema operation aborted. Target suggesting nutritional acquisition at nearby establishment. Please advise on restaurant security protocols. Over."

"It's dinner, May, not a covert operation!" Weiss snapped, earning confused looks from passersby, "Just act normal for five minutes! Over!"

They ended up at a mid-range restaurant with mood lighting and tablecloths. Nicer than a cafe but still not fancy enough to need a dress code. Weiss positioned herself at a corner table, pretending to study the menu while keeping the pair in view. May surveyed the restaurant like she was planning a tactical strike, evaluating each server, patron, and exit. When their waiter approached, she subjected him to such an intense stare that the poor man nearly dropped his notepad.

"What can I get you folks?" the waiter asked with a nervous smile.

"What's prepared fresh to order?" May demanded.

"Uh, pretty much everything? Our chef-"

"Unacceptable." May cut him off, "Pre-made items present lower poisoning risk. Kitchen access should be restricted. Who tastes the food before serving?"

The waiter stared at her, "I... what?"

"Places like this make it easy to poison someone," May said matter-of-factly, as if the waiter was the idiot for not realizing, "Nothing is ever pre-made. No quality control. Anyone could introduce toxins at multiple points in the preparation process."

Jaune laughed awkwardly, "She's joking! Huntress humor, you know? We'll have the, uh, special and the pasta. Thanks!"

The waiter backed away slowly.

Weiss pressed her face into her menu, mortified on their behalf. This date wasn't just a disaster - it was a catastrophe of epic proportions. Every attempt Jaune made at normal conversation was met with either tactical assessment, one-word answers, or May excusing herself to request assistance via walkie-talkie.

By the time they finished their meals (May had only eaten after forcing the Waiter take several bites to ensure it wasn't poisoned), Weiss finally reached her limit. She'd spent nearly five hours watching this train wreck, provided countless pieces of conversational advice that May had invariably translated into military jargon, and had nothing to show for it except a mounting headache.

When they stepped out of the restaurant, with May looking relieved to have survived the "high-risk dining environment," Weiss made her decision. She tossed aside all pretense of stealth, marched straight up to them, and watched with grim satisfaction as May's visible eye widened in shock and horror. She frantically slashed at her neck, the agreed upon "abort mission" signal, which Weiss gleefully ignored. She was done with this buffoonery..

"W-Weiss?" Jaune stammered, "What are you doing here?"

"Ending this farce," Weiss declared, crossing her arms. She turned to Jaune, ignoring May's frantic head-shaking, "Jaune, May is in love with you. She has been since you were both fifteen, which is why she turned into a ghost and has been following you around for two years instead of just talking to you like a normal person." May made a strangled sound, her face flushing as red as her hair. Steam practically rose from her beanie, "I am not wasting another day playing stalker for you two," Weiss continued mercilessly, "Deal with this now, because I refuse to continue enabling whatever this is."

Jaune stood frozen, his mouth slightly open. Slowly, he turned to May, who looked like she was contemplating diving into the nearest storm drain, "Is that true?" he asked softly.

May was shaking uncontrollably, her hand clutching the walkie-talkie so tightly Weiss feared it might shatter. After what seemed like an eternity, she managed a tiny, jerky nod.

And Jaune, the absolute doofus, just smiled. That wide, genuine smile that made his whole face light up, "I like you too, May," he said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, "I always have. Why do you think I never complained about talking to a walkie-talkie for two years?"

May's visible eye widened impossibly further.

"You... You do?"

"Of course I do! You're amazing. A little scary sometimes, but amazing!"

May looked like she might faint from shock or happiness or both. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and finally managed, "Target reciprocation... confirmed?"

Jaune laughed, "Yeah, 'target reciprocation confirmed.'"

Weiss threw up her hands in exasperation, "Unbelievable. You two deserve each other." She turned and walked away as the pair began staring at each other with matching goofy expressions, May still clutching her walkie-talkie like a lifeline, Jaune looking like he'd just discovered a new continent, "Hopefully this fixes things," Weiss muttered to herself. Though given May's track record, she doubted anything would ever be normal with their team.

At least she could stop playing relationship counselor via walkie-talkie. That alone was worth the intervention.

[line break]

Weiss had been naive. Foolishly, stupidly, embarrassingly naive. She'd actually believed that after the disastrous date and her forceful intervention, things would improve. That May would finally become a normal, visible teammate. That the walkie-talkies would be relegated to actual combat situations. That she could enjoy being part of a prestigious Huntsman team at Beacon, free from her father's shadow and partnered with the incredible Pyrrha Nikos.

What a joke.

"Blonde Shield to Beanie One, your tactical position yesterday was impeccable. Over." Jaune's voice drifted across their dorm room, disgustingly fond.

Weiss stabbed her pencil into her textbook with enough force to tear the page.

"Beanie One acknowledges compliment. Your pincer movement was... exceptionally executed. Over." Weiss's head snapped up, catching the smirk on Jaune's face as he cradled the walkie-talkie like it was made of precious gemstones. She glanced at Pyrrha, who was diligently focused on her own studies, either oblivious to or politely ignoring the barely-veiled conversation happening three feet away.

"You two know we can hear you, right?" Weiss snapped, throwing her pencil down, "We're literally in the same room!"

Jaune at least had the decency to look embarrassed, "We're just discussing combat techniques, Weiss."

"Combat techniques. Right." Weiss crossed her arms, "And I suppose May's 'excellent breath control' you were praising last night was also about combat?"

Jaune turned crimson, "That was... I mean, snipers need to... control their breathing to..."

"Save it," Weiss cut him off, "At least May promised to attend classes and team meetings in person from now on, right? That was the deal." Jaune's sudden fascination with a loose thread on his blanket told her everything, "Jaune," Weiss said dangerously, "What happened to our agreement?"

He scratched the back of his neck- a telltale sign of impending disappointment, "Well, about that... May and I talked it over, and she really prefers the current arrangement. It works for her, you know? And I don't mind."

"You don't mind," Weiss repeated flatly, "Of course you don't mind. You're so whipped you'd probably agree if she suggested communicating exclusively through smoke signals and carrier pigeons!" She was almost tempted to call him a simp.

"That's not fair," Jaune protested weakly, "She has... social anxiety."

"She shot Yang in the forehead five times in the cafeteria! Then made fun of her for it!"

"Tactically," Jaune corrected, as if that made it any better.

"She's not socially anxious! She's a brat who hides behind a screen like a dustnet troll!"

The walkie-talkie crackled, "Ice Queen's blood pressure rising to critical levels again. Recommend Blonde Shield disengage from confrontation. Over."

"I CAN HEAR YOU!" Weiss shrieked, lunging across the room. Jaune barely managed to hold the walkie-talkie out of her reach, rolling off his bed to create distance.

"Weiss, calm down!" Jaune pleaded, "May's trying. She came to the strategy meeting yesterday!"

"For exactly eleven minutes, during which she sat in the corner with her beanie pulled down, refused to speak to anyone but you, and then 'tactically withdrew' through the window!" Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to regain some semblance of composure. This was not how a Schnee behaved. This wasn't dignified. This wasn't-

"Beanie One to Blonde Shield," May's voice came through the walkie-talkie, low and suggestive, "Looking forward to reviewing your... weapon maintenance techniques later. Your handling skills have improved significantly. Over."

Jaune actually giggled. Giggled! "I heard your breech-loading speed is getting faster too. Over," he replied, his voice dropping to what he apparently thought was a seductive tone but sounded more like he was suffering from a mild throat infection.

"That's it!" Weiss grabbed her textbooks and stomped toward the door, "I'm studying in the library! Some of us are trying to maintain our academic standing without being subjected to... to... whatever this is!"

Pyrrha finally looked up from her notes, "Would you like some company, Weiss?"

"Yes, please," Weiss practically begged. Any excuse to escape this nightmare.

As they gathered their materials, the walkie-talkie continued its torture. "Your marksmanship is so impressive," Jaune cooed into the device, "I've never seen anyone hit a moving target so accurately. Over."

May's voice came back immediately, "Your shield deployment is getting much more... firm. Over."

Weiss screamed into her textbook.

Over the next week, Weiss tried every strategy she could think of to cope with her team's increasingly disturbing walkie-talkie habits.

She tried earplugs, which proved ineffective against Jaune's tendency to repeat May's messages out loud with that dopey smile on his face. She tried studying in the library, only to have Jaune appear there too, walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, whispering sweet tactical nothings when he thought no one was listening. She tried complaining to Professor Goodwitch, who merely raised an eyebrow and reminded her that team dynamics were to be resolved internally unless they affected combat performance.

She even tried appealing directly to May during one of the sniper's rare physical appearances at team training.

"Could you two at least keep your... conversations private?" Weiss had pleaded.

May had tugged her beanie lower, her visible eye fixed on a point somewhere over Weiss's shoulder, "All communications are coded for security. Improper interpretation is your responsibility. Over."

"You called his moves 'deliciously aggressive' during sparring practice!"

"Tactical assessment only. Over."

It was Thursday night when Weiss finally reached her breaking point. She'd been trying to sleep, exhausted after a grueling day of classes and combat training, when Jaune's walkie-talkie crackled to life, "Beanie One to Blonde Shield," May's voice was barely a whisper, "All-clear for nighttime operation?"

"Roger that," Jaune whispered back, glancing over to where Weiss was supposedly sleeping, "Ice Queen and Red Warrior appear to be in sleep mode. Over."

Weiss kept her eyes firmly shut, breathing evenly, though her blood pressure was skyrocketing.

"Excellent," May continued, "Wanted to review your performance during today's combat exercise. Your endurance is increasing impressively. Over."

"Thanks," Jaune replied, his voice sickeningly sweet, "I've been practicing my thrust-and-parry technique too. What did you think? Over."

"Very forceful. Perfect penetration of opponent defenses. Extremely... satisfying to observe. Over."

"Maybe tomorrow you could show me that special grip you mentioned? The one that provides better... control? Over."

"Affirmative, Blonde Shield. I think you'll find it gives you enhanced sensation when handling your... equipment. Over."

Weiss grabbed her pillow, pressed it over her face, and screamed into it with every ounce of her being. The sound wasn't nearly muffled enough for them to not hear it, but of course, the two completely ignored her.

"Did you receive those special supplies I requisitioned? Over," May asked, her tone making it clear these weren't standard combat items.

"Yeah! The dust-infused ones? Can't wait to test them out. Over." Weiss pressed the pillow harder against her face, wondering if it was possible to smother herself.

"Confirmed. Recommend application in circular motion for optimal effect. Over."

"You're the expert. Your hands-on demonstrations are always so... educational. Over."

That was it! Weiss threw off her covers, stormed over to Jaune's bed, and snatched the walkie-talkie from his startled grasp, "LISTEN HERE, YOU HORNY LITTLE MONKEYS!" she shouted into the device, beyond caring if she woke Pyrrha or the entire dormitory, "I DON'T CARE WHAT PERVERTED LITTLE GAME YOU TWO ARE PLAYING, BUT SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!"

There was a long silence. Pyrrha sat up in bed, blinking in confusion. The walkie-talkie crackled, "Ice Queen, we were discussing combat techniques and dust application for weapon maintenance. Over."

"Oh, please," Weiss snarled, "You think I don't know what 'thrust-and-parry technique' and 'hands-on demonstrations' really mean? I've seen enough sitcoms to recognize thinly-veiled innuendo when I hear it!" Sitcoms. Her guilty pleasures alongside chicken wings.

Another silence. Then, to Weiss's utter disbelief, May's voice came back, sounding genuinely confused, "Blonde Shield's sword requires specific thrust techniques to maximize effectiveness. And dust application is standard weapons maintenance. What did you think we were discussing? Over."

Jaune was looking at Weiss with wide, innocent eyes. Too innocent, "Yeah, Weiss. We're just talking about training techniques."

"Arc, your acting sucks more than your combat skills." Jaune winced. Good, "If you think either of you are being subtle, you're more deluded than Blake thinking that wiggling bow is hiding her cat ears." Seriously, she hadn't even changed her last name! "Now, if the two of you don't stop making asses of yourselves, I'm going to find May and destroy every single walkie talkie she has then blacklist her from every store that sells more. Are we clear?"

"Y-Yeah, sure, Weiss..."

"... Understood. Over."

"Good." She pressed the walkie talkie back to Jaune's chest none-too-gently then stomped back to bed. For the next few minutes, blissful silence was their only companion. Weiss' perpetual frown finally dimmed and she felt herself relaxing.

...And then those two animal-brained cretins couldn't help themselves.

"J-Jaune, I'm... I'm inserting the magazine," May's voice cut in, quiet but not nearly quiet enough, "The...The bullets are going in the chamber, Jaune. They're filling up every inch. Oh, I'm about to fire~"

"Do it, May. Shoot it all out."

...

Weiss slowly counted to 1000. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow she'd make May and Arc pay for their insanity. Destroying her walkie talkies like she threatened would be a start, but first she needed to find the right earplugs so May's screeching wouldn't deafen her. After that? Oh yes, revenge would be delicious.

[line break]

Poor Weiss. Again. Works her ass off to have May stop being a sniper troll and she ends up just having walkie walkie sex with Jaune. She's gonna fucking destroy these two, but the exact methods how will be left to the reader's imagination ;)

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one. Maid Jaune is next along with a NSFW comedic White Knight time travel fic commissioned by someone.

In Her Sights - Jaune x May Chapter 2 of 3

Next chapter. This is now a threeshot. Yeah, sorry, I figured Jaune and May's date deserves its own chapter to shine.

[line break]

Weiss believed in order. She believed in discipline, in protocol, in the proper way of doing things. That's how she was raised, how she was trained, and how she'd always approached life. As the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, she understood better than most that presentation and conduct were everything. People were vicious and merciless, and she learned at a young age to put on a perfect mask of control. Of efficiency.

Which was precisely why she was currently contemplating the most efficient way to disappear into the floor of Professor Goodwitch's combat arena.

"For our next match," Professor Goodwitch announced, tapping her scroll with practiced precision, "Ruby Rose versus May Zedong."

The combat class arena fell into an awkward silence as Ruby enthusiastically bounded onto the stage, her red cape fluttering behind her. She took her position, unfolded Crescent Rose with a dramatic flourish, and then... stood there. Looking around. Waiting for an opponent who - as Weiss knew all too well - would never appear.

"This is a nightmare," Weiss hissed, sinking lower in her seat, "An absolute nightmare."

Beside her, Jaune shifted uncomfortably, his ever-present walkie-talkie clutched in his hand. Pyrrha, ever the diplomat, patted Weiss's shoulder sympathetically, "Perhaps May has a... plan?" Pyrrha said, though her tone suggested even she didn't believe it.

"A plan?" Weiss whispered furiously, "A plan? The plan is clearly to humiliate us all! Again!"

Down in the arena, Professor Goodwitch was looking increasingly irritated, her riding crop tapping against her palm, "Miss Zedong? Please take your position."

The seconds ticked by. Ruby shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, looking around with a mixture of confusion and anticipation. Some students started whispering. Someone in the back row snickered. Jaune's walkie-talkie crackled to life, "Beanie One in position. Ready for combat simulation. Over." Everyone's heads swiveled toward the sound. Weiss felt her face burning with mortification. This was her team. Her responsibility as leader. And it was a circus.

Professor Goodwitch strode over and held out her hand. Jaune, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, reluctantly handed over the walkie-talkie, "Miss Zedong," Professor Goodwitch said, her voice cold as ice, "While I understand that Headmaster Ozpin has granted you certain... accommodations for your training methodology, I cannot in good conscience conduct a match where one participant has no opportunity to engage with their opponent."

The walkie-talkie crackled again, "With respect, Professor, I'm a sniper. If I'm in a position where my opponent can engage me in close quarters, I've already failed. This is tactically sound training. Over."

Weiss thought her teeth might crack from how hard she was clenching her jaw. She had made it her personal mission to be the perfect student, the perfect team leader, and somehow ended up with... whatever this was. A ghost she was halfway convinced was a mass hallucination and her partner who made excuses about how 'that's just how she is'. The only bright spot was Pyrrha, and she couldn't even enjoy the privelege of being partners with the Invincible Girl with this hanging over head.

Professor Goodwitch's expression suggested she was contemplating throwing the walkie-talkie across the room, "Miss Zedong, in a tournament setting-"

"I'm fine with it!" Ruby chirped from the arena, her voice echoing slightly. She twirled Crescent Rose and grinned, "I'll just have to find her!"

Weiss couldn't believe what she was hearing. Ruby was actually going along with this farce? "Don't encourage her!" she muttered, though of course Ruby couldn't hear.

"I mean, she's got to be somewhere in here, right?" Ruby continued, scanning the rafters, the corners, the stands, "I'll just use my speed and-"

POP!

A small projectile hit Ruby square in the forehead, causing her to stumble back a step. Her Aura meter on the display screen dropped by precisely 10%.

Ruby blinked, then rubbed her forehead, "Wow! That was... fast." Weiss didn't know whether to be relieved or infuriated that the reaper didn't even seem annoyed.

Goodwitch's face could have frozen fire Dust. She raised the walkie-talkie, "Miss Zedong! This is not an appropriate demonstration of combat skills. One more unsanctioned attack and you will be disqualified and sent to the Headmaster's office!"

Weiss buried her face in her hands. Not again. Not another incident. Not another meeting where she had to explain why one-fourth of her team was an invisible menace with apparently no respect for authority, decorum, or basic social norms.

"No it's fine!" Ruby started, "I can find-"

POP!

Another perfect shot to the forehead. Ruby's Aura dropped another 10%.

"-her." Ruby finished weakly, the red mark on her forehead matching her cape. The classroom erupted in a mix of laughter and shocked gasps. Yang was already on her feet, eyes flashing red. Blake was unsuccessfully trying to hold her back.

"Miss Zedong!" Professor Goodwitch's voice cut through the chaos like a blade, "You are disqualified! Report to Headmaster Ozpin's office immediately!"

The walkie-talkie emitted what sounded suspiciously like a sigh, "Mission parameters acknowledged. Withdrawing from combat simulation. Over and out."

A hush fell over the classroom as everyone seemed to collectively wonder if May would actually follow the order. Or if she was even capable of being "sent" anywhere. Goodwitch handed the walkie-talkie back to Jaune with such force he nearly fell out of his seat, "Mr. Arc, please ensure your... partner receives this message." She turned to address the class, "For our next match, Yang Xiao Long versus Cardin Winchester."

As Yang practically vaulted into the arena, her hair already glowing with anticipation (or perhaps leftover anger from Ruby's treatment), Weiss turned to Jaune with murder in her eyes, "This," she said, her voice a quiet tremor of rage, "Is absolutely unacceptable."

Jaune winced, "Yeah, I know, but-"

"No! No 'buts'!" Weiss jabbed a finger at him, "I have worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to have my academic record tarnished by this... this mess! Do you know what my sister will say when he hears about this?! Do you have ANY idea how this reflects on me as your leader?!"

"Ice Queen's blood pressure reaching critical levels," said May's voice from the walkie-talkie, somehow still audible even over the sounds of Yang now thoroughly destroying Cardin in the arena, "Recommend deep breathing exercises. Over."

"I will END you!" Weiss hissed at the device, grabbing for it. Jaune held it out of reach, looking genuinely concerned she might smash it, "When I find you - and I WILL find you - I will freeze you solid and ship you back to whatever hole you crawled out of! Do you hear me?!" Professor Goodwitch looked at her red face then deliberately looked away without a reprimand.

Pyrrha placed a calming hand on Weiss's arm, "Perhaps we should discuss this back in our room? As a team?"

"What team?" Weiss threw up her hands, "We're not a team! We're a collection of misfits with a ghost!"

The walkie-talkie crackled, "Not a ghost. Just highly specialized in covert operations. Also, your left sleeve has a loose thread. Over."

Weiss looked down at her pristine white sleeve automatically, then cursed herself for falling for it again, "That's it! Team meeting. Now." She stood up so forcefully her chair screeched against the floor, "And May WILL be there, physically present, or I'm going straight to the school board!"

"Now, Weiss," Pyrrha started, "Perhaps we should-"

"No! I've had enough!" Weiss was past caring who heard her at this point. Professor Goodwitch kept dutifully pretending she didn't notice, "I'm tired of being embarrassed! I'm tired of wondering where one-fourth of my team is at any given moment! An I'm tired of being called 'Ice Queen'!"

The entire class was now staring at her, even Yang and the barely-conscious Cardin. Professor Goodwitch stared ahead and blankly announced Yang's victory even though no one was paying attention. The walkie-talkie crackled one more time, "Team meeting acknowledged. Will comply with visibility request. Just this once. Blonde Shield, Red Warrior, Ice Queen - meet at dorm in twenty minutes. Over and out."

Weiss froze. Wait. Did May just agree to show herself? After all this time? Jaune's shocked expression suggested this was a shock to him too. Even Pyrrha looked stunned. The heiress straightened her skirt, lifted her chin, and tried to regain her composure, "Well. Good. Twenty minutes. We'll... see you there."

As she marched out of the classroom with as much dignity as she could muster, Weiss couldn't shake the feeling that she had somehow walked right into May's crosshairs. Again.

Minutes later, Weiss paced the length of their dorm room, checking her scroll every thirty seconds. Eighteen minutes had passed since May's unexpected agreement to show herself. Her heart raced with anticipation. Finally, she would confront the source of her mounting frustration face-to-face. No more hiding behind radios and stupid code names!

"Do you really think she'll show up?" Pyrrha asked, sitting primly on the edge of her bed. She looked simultaneously hopeful and doubtful.

"She better," Weiss snapped, "I've had enough of this... this farce! We're supposed to be a prestigious Huntsman team, not some circus act!"

Jaune sat on his bed, fidgeting nervously with the walkie-talkie. The device had been suspiciously silent since they'd left the combat classroom, "Um, Weiss? I think she - "

"No!" Weiss pointed an accusatory finger at him, "No excuses, no warnings, no 'that's just how May is' nonsense. I demand a proper teammate!" The door to their dorm room remained firmly closed. Nineteen minutes, "If she's not here in the next sixty seconds," Weiss said, voice vibrating with tension, "I'm going straight to Ozpin and demanding a team reassignment."

Jaune winced, "About that-"

The walkie-talkie crackled to life, "Beanie One approaching rendezvous point. Prepare for visual contact. Over."

Weiss spun toward the door, straightening her posture and composing her face into what she hoped was an intimidating yet professional expression. This was it. She would finally see the face of the person who'd been driving her to the brink of insanity.

Twenty minutes. On the dot. The door didn't open.

"Where is she?" Weiss demanded, checking her scroll again, "It's been twenty minutes!" Jaune sighed deeply, stood up, and walked to the empty bed that was supposedly May's. He placed the walkie-talkie on the pillow, "What are you doing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Just... wait," Jaune muttered, retreating to his own bed with a resigned expression. Ten seconds later, the window slid open a fraction. A slender arm in a pink and brown sleeve reached through the gap, threw something on the empty bed, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Weiss stared in disbelief at what had been left behind.

A pink and black beanie, the walkie-talkie now propped neatly against it.

"What," Weiss managed through clenched teeth, "Is that?!"

The walkie-talkie crackled, "Visual confirmation achieved. This is Beanie One, reporting for team meeting as requested. Over."

Pyrrha's hand flew to her mouth, either hiding a gasp or a laugh - Weiss couldn't tell and didn't care. She marched over to the bed, snatched up the beanie, and shook it in the air, "THIS IS NOT COMPLIANCE! THIS IS A HAT!" If the rooms weren't soundproof, she was sure her voice would've echoed throughout the entire academy.

"Correction: This is tactical headgear. Essential component of Beanie One. Over."

Weiss could feel her eye twitching. Her grip on the beanie was so tight her knuckles turned even whiter than usual, "Where. Are. You?"

"Present and accounted for. Mission parameters fulfilled. Visual element provided. Over."

Jaune groaned, flopping back on his bed, "Yeah, that's what I figured."

"A HAT IS NOT A PERSON!" Weiss screeched, her composure finally shattering completely. She threw the beanie across the room where it landed perfectly on Jaune's face, "This is beyond unacceptable! This is... this is..."

"Efficient use of resources," May's voice said 'helpfully' through the walkie-talkie, "Full physical presence unnecessary for effective communication. Over."

Pyrrha, ever the peacemaker, stood and retrieved the beanie, "Perhaps May has... reasons for maintaining her distance? We could try to understand-"

"No!" Weiss cut her off, "No more understanding! No more accommodations! This ends now!" She marched to the window and flung it wide open, leaning out to scan the grounds below, the rooftop above, the trees nearby, "I don't care what it takes. I don't care how long it takes. I am going to find you, May Zedong, if it's the last thing I do!"

The walkie-talkie emitted a sound that might have been a chuckle, "Good luck with that, Ice Queen. Over."

May took the beanie back that night when they went to sleep. Weiss regretted not planting a bomb on it when she had the chance.

[line break]

Three days. Three full days of what could only be described as the most sophisticated manhunt Beacon Academy had ever seen, and Weiss had exactly nothing to show for it.

She'd tried everything. Motion sensors hidden in the dorm room (mysteriously disabled within hours). Dust-infused tripwires in all the hallways leading to their room (somehow bypassed without a trace). She'd even attempted to bribe other students to keep watch (they'd all reported seeing absolutely nothing unusual, despite the occasional snack or personal item going mysteriously missing from their stations).

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"This is insanity," Weiss muttered, crossing another failed attempt off her increasingly desperate list. She'd been running on minimal sleep, using every spare minute between classes to set traps and monitor surveillance. She slumped at her desk, staring at the empty bed that was supposedly May's. The beanie sat there mockingly, positioned at a jaunty angle atop the perfectly made sheets. The walkie-talkie beside it had been suspiciously quiet whenever Weiss was alone in the room. Jaune had already gotten an extra one from a dead drop. This one was the 'team walkie talkie'

Even her complaints to the administration had hit a wall. She'd marched straight to Headmaster Ozpin's office the morning after the "team meeting" incident, prepared to demand action.

"Ah, Miss Schnee," Ozpin had greeted her, somehow looking both surprised and as if he'd been expecting her all along, "How is Team WMJP settling in?"

"It's not," Weiss had said, standing ramrod straight before his desk, "Sir, I need to formally request a team reassignment. The current situation is untenable."

Ozpin had merely sipped his drink, regarding her over the rim of his mug with those unnervingly calm eyes, "I assume this is about Miss Zedong's... unique training methodology?"

"Unique?" Weiss practically choked on the word, "It's not 'unique,' it's disruptive! It's unprofessional! It's-"

"Special training circumstances," Ozpin had interrupted, setting down his mug, "Miss Zedong was admitted to Beacon with a very particular skill set that we value greatly. Her methods, while unconventional, have proven highly effective in the field."

"But she doesn't even attend classes!"

"Doesn't she?" Ozpin had raised an eyebrow, bringing up his scroll to display perfect attendance records for May Zedong across all courses, "Her academic performance has been exemplary."

"That's impossible! She's never there!"

"Perception and presence are not always the same thing, Miss Schnee." Ozpin had smiled that infuriating smile of his, "If Miss Zedong doesn't wish to be found, then that is her right as a developing Huntress with a specialized combat style."

Weiss had left his office seething, the words "specialized combat style" burning in her mind like an insult.

Now, three days later, she'd nearly reached her breaking point. She couldn't concentrate in class and her combat performance was suffering. She'd even snapped at Klein during their weekly scroll call, which had left her feeling guilty on top of everything else.

She was brushing her hair before bed - one hundred strokes, no more, no less, a ritual that usually calmed her - when the realization hit her so suddenly she dropped her brush, "Polarity," she whispered. Pyrrha's Semblance. The ability to control magnetism - to manipulate metal objects with her mind. Pyrrha never made a big show of it (she only told them for the sake of team synergy), concerned that people would think her tournament victories weren't earned through skill. But Weiss knew the Semblance worked because Pyrrha could sense metal, could feel its presence even without seeing it.

A sniper rifle had metal parts. A lot of them.

Weiss's reflection smiled back at her, sharp and predatory. It wasn't over yet.

The next day after combat training, Weiss watched like a hawk as Jaune left the locker room. She'd timed this perfectly. He'd mentioned at breakfast that he had to meet with Professor Port about an assignment. That meant he'd be alone, which meant...

"May will follow him," Weiss whispered to herself, satisfaction coiling through her chest. The invisible guardian never let Jaune out of her sight when he was alone; she and Pyrrha were just collateral. Which meant that for the next hour, Pyrrha would be safely away from May's surveillance.

Weiss waited exactly five minutes after Jaune left, then approached Pyrrha as she was organizing her locker, "Pyrrha," Weiss said, keeping her voice low even though they were alone, "I need your help with something... confidential."

Pyrrha turned, her ever-present polite smile in place, "Of course, Weiss. What can I do for you?"

Weiss glanced around once more before leaning in, "It's about May."

The smile on Pyrrha's face faltered slightly, "Oh? What about her?"

"I need your help to find her."

"Find her? But Weiss, if she doesn't want to be seen-"

"That's exactly it," Weiss said, stepping closer to her partner, "This situation isn't working. We're supposed to be a team, but how can we function properly with a member who refuses to even show her face? The tournament is coming up, we need to coordinate attacks, develop strategies - "

"I understand your frustration," Pyrrha said, closing her locker gently, "But shouldn't we respect her privacy? She must have her reasons."

Weiss took a deep breath. She'd anticipated this response. Pyrrha was always so accomodating, "I've thought about that, but this isn't sustainable. What happens when we're in a real combat situation? What if one of us gets hurt because we couldn't properly coordinate? What if she gets hurt and we can't find her to help?"

Pyrrha's brow furrowed, "I hadn't considered that."

"Besides," Weiss continued, pressing her advantage, "Don't you think it's a little odd that Jaune hasn't seen his childhood friend in two years? Even though they're partners? Even though she's supposedly protecting him?" That struck a nerve. Weiss could see it in the way Pyrrha's eyes darkened slightly. Like her, Pyrrha had to deal with sycophants and false friends who only cared for her because of her position. Strained friendships resonated with her.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Pyrrha asked cautiously.

Weiss leaned in closer, "Your Semblance. You can sense metal, can't you? Even when you can't see it?"

Understanding dawned on Pyrrha's face, "You want me to locate May's weapon."

"It's a large sniper rifle," Weiss confirmed, "Plenty of metal components. If we can pinpoint its location when it's not actively being used against someone's forehead..."

Pyrrha bit her lip, clearly conflicted, "I don't know, Weiss. Using my Semblance to essentially spy on a teammate feels... wrong."

"More wrong than having a teammate who spies on us constantly?" Weiss countered, "Who shoots other students? Who embarrasses our team in front of the entire school? Who refuses to participate in basic team functions?" Silence stretched between them, Pyrrha's internal conflict plain on her face, "Look," Weiss said, softening her tone slightly, "I'm not suggesting we expose her to the whole school or anything drastic. I just want to have one honest conversation, face-to-face. Team leader to team member. Don't we deserve that much?"

Pyrrha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, "I suppose when you put it that way... it does make sense to at least try to resolve this tension."

"So you'll help?" Weiss couldn't keep the eagerness from her voice.

After a long moment, Pyrrha nodded, "Yes, I'll help. But Weiss-" her green eyes fixed on Weiss with unexpected intensity, "-promise me this isn't about humiliating May or forcing her into something she's truly uncomfortable with. The things you said back in combat class..."

"Of course not," Weiss said, perhaps a little too quickly, "This is about team cohesion. Nothing more. I was just frustrated back then, you understand." It wasn't a lie. She planned to have some choice words with the sniper, but she wasn't planning to drag her kicking and screaming in front of a crowd to humilate her. Weiss was a lot of things, but more than anything, she was a Schnee. And Schnees didn't get involved in petty revenge.

...Most times.

As Pyrrha detailed how her Semblance worked and what she'd need to effectively track the rifle, Weiss couldn't help the sharp smile that spread across her face.

Soon, she thought. Soon.

[line break]

Weiss's plan came together with the precision of a well-oiled Atlesian clock.

"Jaune," she'd said at breakfast, her voice syrupy sweet in a way that made him immediately suspicious, "I need you to pick up our team's combat class evaluations from Professor Goodwitch and then deliver them to Professor Peach for the joint assessment project."

"Why can't you do it?" Jaune had asked around a mouthful of pancakes. Rude.

"Because," Weiss had said with exaggerated patience, "I'm your team leader and I'm delegating this important task to you. It needs to be done before noon, and I have a strategy session with Professor Port." She'd made up the strategy session, of course, but Jaune didn't need to know that. She'd watched with satisfaction as he trudged off across campus, muttering something about "team errands" under his breath.

Ten minutes. That's how long she waited, sitting primly on her bed, pretending to study while Pyrrha organized her notebooks at her desk.

"It's time," Weiss said, snapping her textbook shut, "Can you sense her?"

Pyrrha closed her eyes, her face scrunching slightly in concentration. Her Semblance was subtle - no glowing limbs or dramatic gestures - just a quiet hum of power as she extended her senses outward.

"There's..." Pyrrha began, her voice soft with effort, "Something large... metallic... with intricate components... consistent with a high-caliber rifle." Hm. Impressive. She knew the exact make and components.

"Where?" Weiss was already on her feet.

Pyrrha walked to the window and pointed toward Beacon's central spire, "The clocktower. Near the top."

Weiss's lip curled into a satisfied smile, "Perfect."

She didn't waste another second. With a flurry of white glyphs, Weiss launched herself from their dormitory window, using a technique she'd been perfecting for weeks. Time Dilation - a specialized glyph that altered her temporal perception, allowing her to move at speeds that would make even Ruby Rose envious. It cost some electricity Dust to use, but it was a price she was more than willing to pay.

The world blurred around her as she zipped across the campus grounds, a white streak that most students would mistake for a trick of the light. Her glyphs appeared in rapid succession - under her feet, along vertical surfaces, creating a pathway that defied gravity itself. Up the side of the clocktower she ran, her feet barely touching each glyph before she was propelled to the next. The familiar strain of using so much Aura at once burned through her limbs, but Weiss pushed through it. She hadn't spent years training as a Schnee to be stopped by a little exertion.

With a final leap, she twisted in mid-air and landed with a decisive thud on the uppermost platform of the clocktower, right where the enormous clock mechanism met the open air.

A shriek greeted her arrival - high-pitched and startled, followed by a clatter of what sounded like surveillance equipment.

And there she was.

After weeks of mystery, frustration, and increasingly elaborate traps, Weiss was finally face-to-face with May Zedong.

She was... not what Weiss had expected. Somehow, in her mind, she'd constructed an image of a stone-cold military type, perhaps with scars and a permanent scowl. Instead, she found herself staring at a young woman with tan skin, rose-colored hair, and wide gray eyes - or rather, one wide gray eye, as the left side of her face was obscured by a beanie identical to the one currently sitting on the empty bed in their dorm room. Instead of the usual outfits of Huntsmen made to stand out, she wore a tracksuit patterned with white and magenta colors.

May was frozen in place, her hands still gripping a state-of-the-art sniper rifle that was half-assembled, various scopes and attachments spread out on a small tarp beside her. Several monitors displayed different camera feeds - including, Weiss noted with growing indignation, one showing the interior of their dorm room. The fact that their bathroom had been left out was the only reason she wasn't tempted to throw the sniper off the tower.

"May," Weiss smiled, the gesture all teeth and no warmth, "So nice to finally meet face-to-face."

For several long seconds, May didn't respond. She just stared at Weiss like a cornered animal, her visible eye darting from Weiss to the rifle to the edge of the platform, clearly calculating escape routes, "H-how did you-" May finally stuttered, her voice lacking all of the military confidence it held over the walkie-talkie. She sounded younger, more uncertain.

"Find you?" Weiss finished, crossing her arms, "Did you really think you could hide forever? I'm a Schnee. We always get what we want."

May's hands twitched toward her rifle, but Weiss was faster. A glyph appeared beneath the weapon and slid it several feet away, "No more of that," Weiss said firmly, "We're going to have a conversation. A real one."

May shrank back, pulling her beanie lower over her face, "I need to relocate," she mumbled, reaching for a small bag beside her, "Position compromised."

"Absolutely not." Weiss stomped her foot, another glyph appearing to block May's reach, "You're not disappearing again. You've been playing your little invisible guardian game for weeks, and it ends now."

May's visible eye widened, a flush creeping up her neck, "It's not a game," she protested weakly, "It's tactical... it's..."

"It's ridiculous," Weiss said, "And it's embarrassing our team."

May flinched at that, her gaze dropping to the platform beneath them, "I'm not... good with people," she said so quietly Weiss almost missed it, "Not like this." Weiss blinked, momentarily thrown by the vulnerability in May's voice. This was not the confident, almost cocky sniper who regularly harassed her through the walkie-talkie. This May seemed almost... shy.

"What do you mean, 'like this'?" Weiss demanded, though some of the edge had left her voice.

May gestured vaguely at herself, still not meeting Weiss's eyes, "Face-to-face. It's... complicated."

"Well, uncomplicate it," Weiss said, though she found herself taking a small step back to give May some space, "You can't be a functioning member of this team if you're hiding in clocktowers and shooting people with BB pellets."

May's hand moved to her beanie again, adjusting it nervously, "I function fine," she insisted, "From a distance. That's how I operate. That's how I've always operated. Ask Jaune."

"Oh, I have," Weiss said dryly, "He says you've been like this for two years, which, by the way, is not a normal friendship dynamic." Not that she had much experience on that front, but even she knew that this absolutely wasn't the standard.

"Nothing about being a Huntress is normal," May countered, some of her confidence seemingly returning as she focused on the topic, "We all have our methods. Mine just happens to involve... distance."

Weiss sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Look, I didn't track you down to psychoanalyze you. I tracked you down because we're supposed to be a team, and teams need to be able to coordinate. To train together. To develop strategies face-to-face."

May was silent for a long moment, her eye fixed on a point somewhere past Weiss's shoulder, "I'm better at this than you think," she finally said, "The distance thing. It works. I've kept Jaune alive for two years."

"From what? Schoolyard bullies?" Weiss scoffed.

"From Grimm," May corrected, her voice hardening slightly, "From people who'd hurt him for his transcripts. From a lot of things."

Weiss' brows furrowed, "Wait, what about his transcripts?" May's eye widened again, and she clamped her mouth shut, looking horrified, "Never mind that," Weiss said, filing the information away for later, "The point is, this can't continue. I won't have my team be a laughingstock because one member refuses to show her face."

May fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, looking increasingly uncomfortable the longer Weiss stared at her, "I..." she started, then stopped, "It's not that simple."

"Then explain it to me," Weiss crossed her arms, "Because from where I'm standing, you've been making my life needlessly difficult for weeks, and I want to know why."

"I'm not good with people," May repeated, more firmly this time, "But I'm good at what I do. Really good. The distance thing... it's not just a preference. It's... it's how I function best." Weiss studied the strange girl before her. There was clearly more to this story than May was letting on, but the genuine distress in her posture was hard to ignore. May looked like she wanted nothing more than to disappear off the edge of the clocktower and never be seen again.

"Fine," Weiss said after a long moment, "Let's say I accept that you have your... reasons. That still doesn't solve our team coordination problem."

May glanced longingly at her rifle, then at her surveillance equipment, "I was managing fine," she muttered.

"You were shooting people in the cafeteria," Weiss corrected.

"Tactically."

"It was embarrassing!"

May shrank further into herself, tugging her beanie even lower, "Didn't mean to embarrass the team," she said quietly, "Just proving a point."

Weiss was struck by the contrast between this May and the one who confidently issued tactical assessments over the walkie-talkie. It was like looking at two different people. Then again, she thought, people acted differently when they thought they had the safety of anonymity. She'd experienced it more than once. People saying hurtful things from behind a screen only to shrink when they saw her face-to-face, they bravery suddenly forgotten in the face of consequences.

"Here's what's going to happen," Weiss said, adopting her best team-leader voice, "We're going to talk. Right here, right now. No more hiding behind walkie-talkies or beanbags or whatever else you've been using to avoid actual human interaction."

May's visible eye widened in panic. Her breathing quickened as she scrambled backward, hands fumbling frantically at her belt, "I can't- I don't-"

"Oh yes, you can," Weiss pressed, taking a step forward, "This has gone on long enough."

With trembling hands, May unclipped a spare walkie-talkie from her belt and dropped it on the ground. Then, she picked up another one that she held close to her chest, "T-take this," she stuttered, her voice barely audible. She nudged the walkie talkie with her foot, "We can talk this way. Just like normal. Please."

Weiss stared at the offered device in disbelief, "You can't be serious. I'm standing right in front of you!"

"Please," May repeated, looking everywhere but at Weiss's face. Her hand shook as she held her walkie-talkie, "It's... It's better this way."

"This is ridiculous!" Weiss snapped, her patience finally evaporating completely. She reached out and snatched the walkie-talkie from May's hand, "We are going to have a normal conversation like normal people, not through some childish-"

Big mistake.

The instant the walkie-talkie left her grip, May's entire demeanor transformed. Her eye went impossibly wide, her pupils contracted to pinpoints, and her mouth opened in what started as a gasp but rapidly escalated.

The shriek that erupted from May's throat didn't sound human. It was like a thousand nails on a chalkboard, like dying electronics shorting out, like static and feedback and digital distortion all compressed into a single, ear-splitting sound. It reminded her of when the screen in their home theater broke, yet somehow a hundred times worse.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAA-A-A-A-A-AAAAAHHH!"

The scream seemed to glitch and stutter, rising and falling in pitch like a corrupted audio file, echoing off the clocktower walls and reverberating through Weiss's skull. Weiss dropped the walkie-talkie in shock, clamping her hands over her ears as the unholy noise continued unabated, "STOP IT!" Weiss shouted, but her voice was completely drowned out by May's continuing banshee wail.

Windows in the clocktower rattled. A nearby bird took flight in panic. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm started going off, though whether it was related or coincidental, Weiss couldn't tell.

Desperate to make the sound stop, Weiss lunged forward, grabbed the fallen walkie-talkie, and shoved it forcefully back into May's hands. As soon as the walkie-talkie was back in May's possession, the unholy shrieking stopped. May clutched the device to her chest, hugging it like a security blanket, her visible eye closed as she took several deep breaths. Her hands were still trembling.

Weiss winced, pressing a finger against her ear as if that might stop the persistent ringing, "What. Was. That?" she growled, her voice sounding muffled to her own ears.

May didn't answer. She just cradled the walkie-talkie closer, looking for all the world like a child with a beloved stuffed animal.

Weiss watched in disbelief as the sniper - who'd been terrorizing her for weeks, who'd shot Yang between the eyes five times in a row without missing, who'd somehow convinced Beacon's administration to let her operate as a ghost - curled in on herself, shaking.

"Fine," Weiss sighed after an awkward minute had passed, "Keep your stupid walkie-talkie."

May's eye cracked open, watching Weiss warily.

"But we're still going to talk," Weiss insisted, though with considerably less force than before. Her ears were still ringing, "What... What do you need me to do?"

May pointed to the opposite side of the clocktower platform, a good fifteen feet away.

"You can't be serious," Weiss said flatly.

May just stared at her, unmoving, then pointed at the other walkie talkie she'd dropped earlier. With a dramatic sigh that she hoped conveyed the full depths of her exasperation, Weiss picked it up, stalked over to the indicated spot and sat down cross-legged, facing May, "Happy?"

May raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth, pressed the button, and spoke, "This is... better. Over."

"This is completely ridiculous," she said into the device, "I can literally see you. Over."

"I know," May's voice came through, stronger now, more like the confident 'Beanie One' she was used to hearing, "But it's easier this way. Over."

"Easier?" Weiss snapped, "What's easier about having to use communication devices when we're fifteen feet apart? What's your deal, May? Jaune said you were completely normal until you were both fifteen, and then you decided to become a ghost. Over." She added the last word with dripping sarcasm that could peel paint.

May was silent for so long that Weiss wondered if she'd broken some unspoken rule of walkie-talkie etiquette. Finally, the device crackled, "I've always been shy," May's voice came through, quiet but steady, "But after I turned fifteen..." She trailed off, shaking her head, "No. I just find it easier this way. I can focus on the mission. No distractions. Over."

"What mission?" Weiss demanded, "We're students at a Huntsman academy, not special operatives." Not yet, at least, "And you haven't answered my question. What happened after you turned fifteen? Over."

May fidgeted with her beanie, adjusting it even though it hadn't moved. Her gaze was fixed on the platform floor between them, "It's... personal. Over."

"We're going to be stuck on this clocktower until you give me something to work with." Weiss glared at her, "Over."

Another long pause. May looked physically pained, as if each word was being extracted under torture. Finally, she spoke.

"I realized I liked Jaune," she admitted, the words coming in a rush, "Like... really liked him. And then being around him became too hard. Too awkward. I kept saying stupid things, or laughing at inappropriate moments, or just... freezing up. So I decided it would be better to watch over him from a distance. Keep him safe. That's what I'm good at anyway. Over."

Weiss stared at her. Then, very deliberately, she set the walkie-talkie down, covered her face with both hands, and counted silently to ten. When she picked up the walkie-talkie again, her voice was dangerously calm, "Are you kidding me? All of this - the disappearing, the sniping, the walkie-talkies, the years of making Jaune talk to empty air - all of this because of a teenage crush? Over."

May's cheeks flushed a deep red that almost matched her hair, "It's not just a crush," she protested weakly, "It's... complicated. Over."

Weiss bit down on the scream of frustration that threatened to escape. All this time, all the embarrassment, all the team dysfunction - because May Zedong couldn't handle having feelings for Jaune Arc. Jaune Arc, of all people! The boy who wore footie pajamas to the first night at Beacon! The boy who had bar none THE worst combat record in the entire school. Yang once beat him literally with both hands tied behind her back!

"Here's what's going to happen," Weiss said, her tone making it clear this was not up for debate, "I'm going to help you fix your relationship with Jaune."

May's eye widened in alarm, "W-what? No, that's not- I mean, this arrangement is working fine! Over."

"Is it?" Weiss challenged, "You honestly expect this to last? For four years? For your entire career as a Huntress? Over."

"Well... yeah," May said, sounding genuinely confused that Weiss didn't see the logic, "It's worked for two years already. Over."

Weiss ignored this, "I'm going to fix you and Jaune," she continued, "And then you're going to stop embarrassing our team. You're going to attend classes in person. You're going to participate in team training. And you're going to stop shooting people in public spaces. Are we clear? Over."

May looked like she wanted to argue. Her hand tightened around the walkie-talkie, and for a moment, Weiss worried she might be about to experience another ear-splitting shriek. But then May's shoulders slumped in defeat. She nodded once, the movement so small Weiss almost missed it.

"Good," Weiss said, standing up and brushing off her combat skirt, "And from now on, I expect you to keep in contact. Actually in contact. I'm not going to fix this mess if I can't even see you. You will give me locations of where we'll meet whenever we need to talk. Out."

As she created a glyph to begin her descent from the clocktower, Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. This was NOT what she'd signed up for when she enrolled at Beacon. She was supposed to be training to become a Huntress, to restore honor to the Schnee name, to prove herself as a warrior. Instead, she was playing relationship counselor to a socially crippled sniper with an overactive trigger finger and her oblivious partner.

"If Winter could see me now," Weiss muttered as she stepped onto her glyph, "She'd never let me hear the end of it."

[line break]

Poor Weiss. Just wants a normal team. Ends up having to play cupid for May and Jaune. Can't even enjoy having Pyrrha as a partner.

In Her Sights - Jaune x May Chapter 1 of 3

A twoshot that I got inspired to make after some chatting in my discord. A comedic Jaune Arc x May Zedong story where May is Jaune's childhood friend and guardian sniper. Whether he wants it or not.

[line break]

Jaune stared out the airship window at the approaching silhouette of Beacon Academy, trying desperately to ignore the churning in his stomach. He clutched his family heirloom - Crocea Mors - a bit tighter, wondering for the thousandth time how he'd ended up here.

"Blonde Shield, this is Beanie One. Visual confirmation of target location acquired. ETA fifteen minutes to deployment zone. Over."

Jaune sighed and pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt, "May, we're on an airship. Everyone can see we're fifteen minutes from Beacon. Also, I'm the only one who can hear you. Over."

"Maintain proper radio protocol, Blonde Shield. Security could be compromised. Over."

This was his life now- well, his life for the past two years anyway. May Zedong, childhood friend turned invisible guardian sniper, had decided somewhere around their fifteenth birthdays that protecting Jaune required absolute stealth. She'd gone up to his house one day, handed them the beat-up old walkie talkies they stopped using when they were ten, and told him that she was going to be looking out for him as an unseen partner. He thought it was a phase she'd grow out of in a couple of weeks, but no. May Zedong didn't do half-measures.

He hadn't actually seen May since then, despite knowing with absolute certainty that she was never more than a few hundred feet away. Even visiting her house wasn't any help. She was always conveniently 'out' whenever he came over.

"Do you remember when we used to just... hang out?" Jaune murmured into the walkie-talkie, "Like, in the same room? Visible to each other? Over."

The static crackled for a moment before May's response came through, "Negative, Blonde Shield. Current protection protocols maximize efficiency. Your shield and Aura make you an optimal target while I maintain overwatch. You protect me; I protect you. Symbiotic relationship. Over."

Jaune leaned back against the wall of the airship. Symbiotic. Right. He couldn't count how many times he'd been walking home from school only to have some would-be bully suddenly collapse with a BB pellet to the kneecap (and that's if they were lucky). When they were both kids, May was deadly accurate with a slingshot. When they turned into teenagers, she'd graduated to BB guns and hunting rifles. And now? Well, he didn't actually know what she was using these days cause she always used a silencer. Probably something terrifying.

"You know," Jaune said, "Normal friends go to movies together. They don't communicate exclusively through walkie-talkies and dead drops. Over."

"Normal isn't mission-optimal, Blonde Shield. Besides, I left you popcorn last Tuesday during your home viewing of The X-Ray and Vav: Mission Possible. Psychological and nutritional support provided. Over." That was true. He'd found a perfectly timed delivery of buttered popcorn at his windowsill precisely eleven minutes into the film. He still had no idea how she'd known when he'd started watching. She claimed she watched the movie with him. That is, through a scope and a directional microphone aimed through his window.

He probably should've been worried that he had someone with a gun to his head 24/7...

The most surreal part was that they were both somehow enrolled at Beacon now. May had simply left an envelope containing fake transcripts at their usual dead drop - the hollow tree in Ansel's central park - along with a note that said: "Infiltration documents acquired. Mission parameters updated: Huntsman training imminent." They'd always talked about becoming Huntsmen together, but after she almost literally disappeared two years back, he kinda assumed she forgot about it.

Where she'd even gotten the forgeries, he had no idea. When he asked over their nightly check-in that day, she only responded with, "Sources secure. Need-to-know basis. Over and out."

So here he was, fraudulently enrolled in the most prestigious Huntsman academy in Vale, armed with a hand-me-down sword, a collapsible shield, and an invisible sniper friend who refused to meet face-to-face, "May, don't you think it's weird that we're going to be at the same school and still not-" The airship banked suddenly, and Jaune's stomach lurched ominously. Oh Brothers, here it comes!

"Blonde Shield, biometric monitoring indicates motion sickness imminent. Deploying countermeasures in T-minus five. Over."

Jaune clutched his stomach, feeling cold sweat break out on his forehead.

"Four... three..." May's voice continued the countdown in his ear.

"May, what are you-"

"Two... one..."

Jaune's cheeks puffed out as he desperately tried to hold it in.

"Zero. Countermeasure deployed."

A paper bag slid perfectly across the floor, stopping against his foot at the exact moment May said 'zero'. Jaune snatched it up and promptly emptied his breakfast into it, right on cue. Everyone in a ten feet radius gave him a wide berth. What? Motion sickness is a common issue!

After a miserable moment spent hunched over the bag, he keyed the walkie-talkie again, "Thanks, May. But how did you even time that so perfectly? Over."

"Beanie One has maintained surveillance of Blonde Shield's airsickness patterns since Mission: Protect Jaune began. Your vomit trajectory is predictable to within 2.3 seconds. Preparation prevents poor performance. Over."

Jaune looked around the cabin, searching the faces of his fellow students. Was she disguised among them? Hiding in some maintenance compartment? He'd given up trying to spot her years ago, but sometimes he couldn't help wondering. It was weird not seeing your best friend for two years. He'd tried all sorts of ways to get her to expose herself, but none worked. Even going into the middle of literal nowhere failed. She'd somehow remained hidden even when sniping Grimm on a barren clearing.

"Beginning reconnaissance report on potential teammates. Over." May's voice crackled through the walkie-talkie without prompting.

Jaune blinked in surprise, "What? Over."

"Subject one: Red-hooded female, five o'clock position. Ruby Rose, age fifteen. Admitted two years early by Headmaster Ozpin himself. Weapon: High-impact customizable sniper rifle that transforms into a scythe combined with speed Semblance. Combat effectiveness: High. Teammate potential: Moderate to high. Appears friendly but socially awkward. Over."

Jaune turned discreetly to see a small girl in a red hood looking nervously around the cabin, "How do you - "

"Subject two: Blonde female, seven o'clock. Yang Xiao Long. Subject one's half-sister. Weapon: Dual ranged shotgun gauntlets combined with damage boost Semblance. Combat effectiveness: Extremely high. Teammate potential: High if you don't touch her hair. Repeat: Do not touch the hair. Over."

Jaune spotted the tall blonde girl standing protectively near Ruby.

"Subject three: White-haired female, approaching your three o'clock. Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Weapon: Multi-action Dust rapier combined with Glyphs. Hereditary Semblance. Combat effectiveness: High. Teammate potential: Low. High maintenance. Severe attitude issues. Likely to look down on your credentials. Racist. Avoid interaction. Over."

"May-"

"And finally, subject four: Red-haired female by the window. Pyrrha Nikos. Four-time Mistral Regional Tournament champion. Weapon: Rifle-javelin-xiphos combination with Polarity Semblance. Combat effectiveness: Extremely high. Best among the first years. Teammate potential: Optimal. Recommend immediate alliance formation. Over."

Jaune gaped at the athletic-looking redhead standing quietly by herself, "May, how the heck do you know all this information about random people? Did you research everyone coming to Beacon? Over."

There was a pause before May responded, "Information is ammunition, Blonde Shield. Knowledge of battlefield assets critical to mission success. Over."

"No, seriously, May. This is beyond your usual... whatever this is. How do you know their weapons, their histories, their... everything? Over."

"Blonde Shield, that information is classified. Operational security protocols in effect. Over."

"May..."

"Don't worry about it. Over."

Jaune sighed, "You know, at some point we're going to be assigned to teams," he said, "Four-person teams. Living together in dorms. Kind of hard to maintain your whole 'invisible guardian' thing when we might be roommates. Over."

The silence lasted longer this time. Finally, "I have contingencies for all scenarios. Roommate protocols already established. Over." Jaune didn't even want to know what that meant. He was about to ask when the airship's intercom crackled to life, announcing their arrival at Beacon Academy, "Blonde Shield, prepare for deployment. First mission objective: Infiltrate academy grounds without detection of fraudulent credentials. Secondary objective: Avoid the Schnee heiress approaching your six. Tertiary objective: Do not vomit on anyone's shoes. Over."

Jaune spun around to see a white-haired girl in an expensive-looking outfit striding purposefully in his direction. Not to him specifically, though. He was just near the exit ramp.

"May, where the hell are you even watching from? Over."

"Beanie One is always in position. Good luck. Over and out." As the airship doors began to open, Jaune pocketed the walkie-talkie and took a deep breath. Somehow, he had a feeling Beacon Academy wasn't ready for whatever bizarre adventure he and his never-seen guardian were about to bring to its hallowed halls.

Neither was he, for that matter.

Hours later, Jaune stared up at the auditorium ceiling, surrounded by dozens of sleeping bags and the soft murmurs of his fellow incoming first-years. Beacon's initiation was set for tomorrow morning, and despite the exhaustion of the day, sleep eluded him. His thoughts kept circling back to May. Even in this enclosed space, a single room packed with all the new students, he hadn't caught a single glimpse of her. And trust him, he looked.

Then again, would he even recognize her if he saw her? The last time he'd actually laid eyes on May was two years ago. More than enough time for her to completely change from the girl he knew. He tried to picture her now. Back then, she'd had a round face, faded red hair almost always tucked under her trademark beanie, and a smile that appeared whenever she landed a perfect shot. Was she taller? Had her hair grown out? Did she still wear that beanie?

The walkie-talkie beside his sleeping bag crackled softly, "Blonde Shield, you're not sleeping. Biorhythm indicators show heightened awareness. Over."

Jaune rolled his eyes and grabbed the device, "Neither are you," he whispered as quietly as possible, mindful of the students trying to sleep nearby, "Over."

"I'm on overwatch. Can't compromise the mission for sleep. Will maintain surveillance until you're secure. Over."

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose, "May, are you seriously planning to keep this up for the next FOUR YEARS? Over."

There was a pause, and when May's voice returned, she sounded genuinely confused, "Of course I will. Why wouldn't I? It's the mission. Over."

"Because it's insane? Because we're at a school now, not in some combat zone? Because at some point you'll have to actually attend classes? Over."

"Don't worry about it. I've already arranged everything with the professors. Over."

Jaune sat bolt upright, "You WHAT? What professors? How? When did you-"

"Blonde Shield, keep your voice down. Security breach imminent. Over."

He glanced around, noticing a few annoyed looks from nearby students. One blonde girl with an eye mask pushed up on her forehead was glaring daggers at him, her eyes blazing red, "Sorry," he muttered to her, then flopped back down and pressed the walkie-talkie close to his mouth, "What do you mean you 'arranged' things with the professors? Over."

"Operational details classified. Just know that Beanie One has secured permissions for special tactics training. It's all covered. Don't worry. Over."

Jaune sighed deeply, staring back up at the ceiling. Somehow, he couldn't shake the mental image of May lurking in the rafters above them all, night-vision goggles trained on his sleeping bag, a sniper rifle at the ready in case any nightmares tried to attack him in his sleep.

"Y'know, at some point you're gonna have to let me see you again. Over."

The silence stretched so long he thought she might have finally gone to sleep. When she spoke next, her words were oddly soft, "That's... not mission-optimal, Blonde Shield. Over."

"May, we're friends. We've been friends since we were kids. This whole 'mission' thing is-"

"Mission parameters were established for your protection. Don't worry, I've got your six. Always. Over."

"But-"

"Sleep protocol engaged. Beanie One will maintain watch. Rest now, Jaune."

It was the first time she'd used his actual name over the walkie-talkie in two years. Somehow, that felt more significant than anything else, "Fine," he whispered, "Goodnight May. Over and out." As he closed his eyes, he could have sworn he heard the faintest rustle from somewhere up in the shadowy ceiling. But when he opened them again to look, there was nothing to see but darkness.

[line break]

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"

Jaune was flying - no, plummeting - through the air above the Emerald Forest, arms and legs flailing wildly. The wind whipped past his face as gravity did its inevitable work. How had this happened? One minute he was standing on a platform listening to Headmaster Ozpin's cryptic instructions about finding "relics" in the forest, making eye contact with the first person they saw to determine partners for the next four years, and the next minute...

He'd been literally catapulted into the sky. No warning. No parachute. No flight plan. Just whoosh and suddenly airborne.

"Blonde Shield, trajectory analysis indicates imminent tree collision. Tuck and roll on impact. Over."

Even in his panic, Jaune fumbled for the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt, "NOT HELPING, MAY! OVER!" He crashed through the upper canopy of the Emerald Forest, bouncing painfully from branch to branch before slamming into the ground with a pitiful groan. He lay spread-eagle on the forest floor, staring up at the bits of blue sky visible through the leaves, seriously questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment.

The walkie-talkie crackled again, "Blonde Shield, I see you've achieved landing. Status report. Over."

"I hate everything," Jaune moaned, "Especially you right now. Over."

"Medical assessment indicates bruised ego only. Aura is at 73%. Turn around. Over."

"What?" Jaune groaned and pushed himself to his feet, brushing twigs and leaves from his hair, "Why? Over."

"Just turn around. Over."

Sighing, Jaune did as instructed, scanning the forest behind him. At first, he saw nothing but trees and underbrush. Then, barely visible through the foliage, he caught a flash of light - the unmistakable glint of sunlight on glass. A sniper scope, he realized, nearly a hundred feet away.

His scroll beeped loudly. Jaune pulled it from his pocket and stared at the notification:

[PARTNERSHIP CONFIRMED: Jaune Arc & May Zedong]

Below the text were their profile pictures side by side - his caught mid-sneeze, eyes half-closed and face contorted, while May's was literally just a close-up of her beanie. No face. No identifying features. Just a pink and black beanie.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Jaune shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "How does THAT count as eye contact?! I can't even see you! Your profile picture is a HAT!"

The walkie-talkie crackled with what sounded suspiciously like a snicker before May's voice returned to its usual professional tone, "Official partnership established. Mission parameters updated. We're partners now, Blonde Shield." There was the briefest pause before she added, "Oh, and Beowolfs incoming at six o'clock. Over."

"What?!" Jaune spun around just in time to see a massive black shape lunging at him from the shadows. He screamed - a high-pitched, undignified sound that was a far cry from the manly battle cries he always imagined - and barely managed to get his shield up in time. Claws scraped against metal with a horrible shriek as the Beowolf's momentum pushed him backward.

CRACK!

The Grimm's head exploded in a puff of black mist, the shot so perfectly placed it had gone right between its eyes.

Two more Beowolfs emerged from the bushes, red eyes gleaming. Jaune steadied his shield, heart pounding. Before the creatures could pounce, one jerked violently as another shot tore through its throat. The remaining Beowolf charged, and Jaune braced himself, shield forward.

"Hold position, Blonde Shield. Three... two..."

He stood his ground as the monster barreled toward him.

"One..."

The Beowolf leaped, jaws open wide.

CRACK!

Another perfect shot. The creature disintegrated in midair, its ashes raining down on Jaune's upraised shield.

"Symbiotic relationship," May's voice came through the walkie-talkie, sounding almost cheerful, "You draw them in, I take them out. Just like we practiced. Over."

"I'm not a fan of a being a meat shield, May!" Jaune yelled, spinning in a circle, trying to spot where the shots had come from. The scope glint was gone now, May having already changed positions, "And I didn't draw them in! They just attacked me!"

"You make an excellent target, Blonde Shield. It's a compliment. Over."

Jaune slumped against a tree, trying to calm his racing heart, "Four years," he muttered, "Four years of this."

"Actually," May's voice chirped, "Statistically speaking, most first-year teams lose at least one member due to injury, expulsion, or death, so-"

"Not helping, May!"

"Heading toward objective now. Follow the markers." There was a brief pause, "Also? Nice scream. Very high-pitched. Probably attracted every Grimm within a mile radius. Over and out."

"What markers?" Jaune looked around in confusion before spotting a small pink ribbon tied to a nearby branch. As he approached it, he noticed another one about fifty feet ahead. He sighed, sheathed his sword, and started walking. He wasn't even going to question how she'd tied those up considering the Initiation started maybe five minutes ago.

Four years of being invisible bait for a sniper he couldn't see. Perfect. Just perfect.

[line break]

"Weiss Schnee, May Zedong, Jaune Arc, and Pyrrha Nikos," Headmaster Ozpin announced on the stage, his voice echoing through the packed auditorium, "The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. Congratulations."

Jaune stood on stage next to Pyrrha and Weiss, acutely aware of the empty space where May should have been standing. Not a single person in the audience or on stage seemed to find this strange. Pyrrha smiled politely, while Weiss stood ramrod straight, practically vibrating with anticipation.

"From this day forward, you will work together as Team WMJP led by..." Ozpin paused, taking a sip from his ever-present mug, "Weiss Schnee." The white-haired heiress's face lit up with a smile so bright it was almost blinding. Polite applause filled the hall as a graphic displayed their faces on the giant screen above. Well, three faces and one beanie.

"Congratulations, young lady," Ozpin said to Weiss before his eyes drifted to the empty spot beside Jaune. He gave the slightest nod in that direction, as if acknowledging someone invisible, before moving on to announce the next team.

"Did he not notice May isn't here?" Jaune whispered to Pyrrha. The redhead just shrugged.

The walkie-talkie at Jaune's hip crackled as soon as they were off the stage, "Mission accomplished, Blonde Shield. Team designation achieved. Headmaster briefed on special tactics training. Ice Queen as commander will require adjustment. Over."

"What did she just call me?" Weiss snapped, whipping her head toward the walkie-talkie in Jaune's hand.

Jaune winced, "Uh..."

"I heard that! Give me that device immediately!" Weiss demanded, holding out her hand imperiously. Jaune could already tell that she was someone used to getting what she wanted. Reluctantly, Jaune handed over the walkie-talkie. Weiss snatched it and pressed the button forcefully, "Listen here, May Zedong, or whatever your real name is. I am your team leader, and I will be addressed as Weiss or Miss Schnee. Is that clear? Over." She added the last word with dripping sarcasm.

The walkie-talkie crackled in response, "Negative, Ice Queen. Codenames establish operational security. Your designation is Ice Queen. Mine is Beanie One. Blonde Shield is Jaune. Red Warrior is Pyrrha. Over."

Weiss's face flushed crimson, "That is NOT my designation! I am the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company and your LEADER! You will show proper respect! ...Over!"

"Respect is earned, not given. Also, your left boot has a scuff. Over."

Weiss immediately looked down at her pristine white boots, "What? Where? I don't see-" She stopped, realizing she'd been tricked, and glared at the walkie-talkie, "Very mature! And where exactly are you anyway? You're supposed to be part of this team! Over!"

"I'm exactly where I need to be. Perimeter secure. Over."

The awkwardness only intensified that night as the newly-formed Team JWPM settled into their dorm room. Four beds, four desks, four sets of drawers.

Three students.

The team dorm room was spacious enough, with four beds arranged neatly along the walls, four desks, and a door leading to their shared bathroom. Jaune dropped his meager belongings onto the bed farthest from the door while Pyrrha gracefully claimed the one beside it.

Almost an hour later, Weiss paced the center of the room, clipboard in hand, "Now then, Team Winter-"

"Winter?" Jaune interrupted, "I thought we were Team WMJP?"

Weiss rolled her eyes dramatically, "WMJP is pronounced 'Winter,' Arc. Do try to keep up." Was it? He sure as hell didn't get that from that combo of letters, but what did he know? "As I was saying, as Team Winter's leader, I've already prepared a schedule for us." She brandished the clipboard, "Wake-up call is at 5 AM sharp, followed by morning training exercises, breakfast at precisely 7:15, and then classes. I've color-coded study periods and-"

The walkie-talkie, now back in Jaune's possession, crackled loudly, "Negative on 5 AM, Ice Queen. Optimal sleep cycle for combat readiness requires minimum six hours. Night surveillance concludes at 2 AM. Over."

Weiss stomped her foot, "Stop calling me that! And how dare you contradict your team leader!? If I say wake-up is at 5 AM, then wake-up is at 5 AM! Over!" She snatched the walkie-talkie from Jaune again.

"Your leadership extends to combat and academics, not my sleep cycle. Also, your color-coding system is inefficient. Red should be for combat classes, not history. Over."

"How do you know my color-coding system?!" Weiss spluttered, frantically flipping through her clipboard pages.

"I can see your clipboard from here. Handwriting analysis suggests high-strung personality. Over."

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Weiss spun around wildly, searching every corner of the room.

Pyrrha cleared her throat gently, "Perhaps we could discuss the schedule as a team?"

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Weiss shouted, gesturing at the empty fourth bed, "But one of our so-called teammates refuses to even be present!"

"I'm present. Just not visible. Operational security. Over."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Weiss fumed, "How are we supposed to function as a team if you're not physically here? Where will you sleep? How will you attend classes?"

"Don't worry about it. Class attendance records will show full participation. Sleep arrangements classified. Over."

"Classified?! We're in the same team! There are no classified arrangements in a team!"

"Tell that to the Headmaster. Check your scroll, Ice Queen. Special dispensation filed and approved. Over."

Weiss angrily pulled out her scroll, tapping and swiping with vicious precision. Her eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously, "How did you get access to my academic email? And how did you get Headmaster Ozpin to approve this... this farce?!"

"I've got my ways. Also, your toothbrush is upside down in the holder. Over."

Weiss's head snapped toward the bathroom door, which was firmly closed, "You've been through my personal cabinet?! How? We've been here for the past hour and we didn't see or hear you!"

"Perimeter check includes all entry points. Over."

"This is an invasion of privacy!" Weiss was practically shouting now, "When did you even- I didn't see anyone- Jaune, make her stop this nonsense!"

Jaune, who'd been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and resignation, shrugged, "Trust me, I've been trying for two years. You'll get used to it." He lay down on the bed. A part of him hoped he'd see May in their room once they got to Beacon. After all, she always talked about how they'd be partners. He should've known better.

"I most certainly will not! I refuse to 'get used to' an invisible teammate who calls me Ice Queen and spies on me!"

The walkie-talkie crackled again, "Not spying. Surveillance. Different objective. Primarily watching Blonde Shield. You're collateral observation. Over."

"COLLATERAL?!" Weiss' voice rose to a pitch that threatened to shatter glass. Jaune didn't know what she was more offended by: the fact that she was being spied on or the fact that she was considered secondary in said spying.

Pyrrha stepped forward with her hands raised, "I think what May means is that her primary focus is on team security, not personal observation." She smiled at the empty space near the ceiling corner. Was that where May was or was Pyrrha just guessing? "Isn't that right, May?"

There was a pause before the walkie-talkie responded, "Red Warrior understands. Ice Queen should take notes. Over."

Weiss looked ready to explode. She thrust the walkie-talkie back at Jaune and stomped to her bed, "I'm going to file a formal complaint tomorrow. This arrangement is completely unacceptable for a proper Huntsman team!"

"Already filed counterpoint documentation. Precedent established with Atlas Academy special ops training. Over."

"How do you-" Weiss started, then threw her hands up in defeat, "Fine! Hide wherever you want! But I expect you to participate in all team activities and training sessions, visible or not!"

"Affirmative, Ice Queen. Already participated in more training sessions than you. Marksmanship scores available upon request. Over." As Weiss fumed silently on her bed, Jaune caught Pyrrha's eye. The champion fighter raised an eyebrow, and Jaune just shrugged. Another day, another bizarre May interaction.

Later, as the lights were turned out and everyone settled into their beds - three occupied, one conspicuously empty - the walkie-talkie buzzed one last time.

"Goodnight, Blonde Shield. Goodnight, Red Warrior." There was a slight pause, "Goodnight, Ice Queen. Despite operational friction, looking forward to successful mission parameters with Team Winner. Over and out."

"It's Team Winter!" Weiss hissed into the darkness.

From somewhere - maybe the vents, maybe the hallway, maybe even outside the window - came a sound suspiciously like a snicker.

[line break]

One week into their time at Beacon, and Jaune was starting to develop a routine. Wake up to May's voice over the walkie-talkie ("Perimeter secure, rise and shine, Blonde Shield. Over."), attend classes where professors mysteriously marked May as present despite her obvious absence, and try to survive Weiss's increasingly vocal complaints about their phantom teammate.

"I've filed THREE formal complaints this week alone," Weiss had fumed that morning, furiously brushing her hair as Jaune tried to eat his breakfast, "And every single one has been returned with 'special dispensation already granted' stamped on it. In RED!"

Today they were having lunch in the cafeteria with their sister team, Team RYBR (Rhubarb), led by by Ruby. It was their usual table arrangement. Weiss sat ramrod straight beside Pyrrha at the right edge of the bench, complaining to anyone who listened. Pyrrha did her best to keep the peace and smiled politely at everyone, though he could tell she was flagging. Across from them sat Ruby, her partner (and sister) Yang, Blake, and Ren. Jaune sat on Pyrrha's other side and to his left was... well, nothing. Just an empty space where a teammate should be.

"So, I haven't said anything," Yang started, pointing her fork at Jaune, "But are we seriously gonna pretend this May person is real? Cuz I've been here a week and haven't seen her once."

Weiss snorted derisively, "Join the club. I LIVE with her - supposedly - and haven't caught so much as a glimpse."

"She's real," Jaune sighed, pushing his potatoes around his plate, "She just... doesn't do the whole 'being seen' thing."

"Affirmative. Beanie One exists. Over," May's voice crackled from the walkie-talkie at his hip.

Yang rolled her eyes, "Right. So you just walk around talking to a walkie-talkie and we're all supposed to buy it? That's kinda sad, Jaune."

"She's not made up," Jaune said, feeling like he'd had this conversation a thousand times before. Even people back home, people who definitely saw May with him growing up, started wondering if she was a collectivel hallucination. May seemed oddly proud of that fact, "We've been friends since we were kids. She just... got weird about the whole visibility thing."

"Uh-huh," Yang said, clearly unconvinced, "And this totally real partner of yours never comes to class, never eats lunch, and never sleeps in your dorm. Sure, totally checks out."

"The professors do mark her present," Pyrrha offered gently, "And she does respond when we need her."

"Which is exactly why I'm so frustrated!" Weiss cut in, "If she can get away with skipping everything while still getting full credit, why can't I? Do you know how much more efficiently I could be using my time?"

Instead of responding, the walkie-talkie stayed quiet. Jaune felt that familiar prickle at the back of his neck - the one he always got right before May did something drastic, "Uh, Yang, maybe don't - "

"What?" Yang laughed, "Is your fake friend gonna get mad at me or something? Ooooh, I'm sooo scared."

"Seriously, Yang, I wouldn't-" Jaune shut up when he saw it: a small red dot appearing on Yang's chest, right over her heart. Everyone at the table went dead silent. Ruby's eyes went huge. Ren stopped mid-bite. Even Weiss held her breath, "Um, Yang," Jaune whispered, "Don't move."

"Huh?" Yang glanced down and spotted the laser sight. The red dot inched its way up her chest, over her neck, and stopped right between her eyes, "Oh, come on!"

"Yang," Ruby squeaked, "I think May is real."

"Yeah, right," Yang scoffed, though she didn't sound as confident anymore, "Like someone's actually got a gun on me in the middle of the cafeteria. This has gotta be some stupid trick."

The walkie-talkie crackled, "Permission to fire warning shot? Over."

Jaune groaned, "May, seriously, don't - "

"Oh, sure!" Yang leaned toward the walkie-talkie with a smirk, "Go ahead, 'May'. Take your best shot." She made air quotes around the name.

A second of silence. Then - from somewhere Jaune couldn't pinpoint - came a soft pop.

Yang's head jerked back as something small hit her right between the eyes. Her Aura flashed, absorbing the impact, but her face was pure shock, "What the HELL?!" Yang shouted, jumping to her feet, eyes flashing red as her hair started to burn, "Did someone just shoot me?!"

"Warning shot delivered," May's voice announced through the walkie-talkie, "BB pellet, non-lethal. Could've been worse. Consider yourself lucky, Firecracker. Over."

The cafeteria went quiet, everyone staring at their table as Yang spun around, searching, "Where are you?!" Yang demanded, spinning in a circle, "Get out here!"

"Yang, seriously, you're not going to find her," Jaune said, "Nobody ever does."

"Oh yeah? Watch me!" Yang started stalking between the cafeteria tables, checking under them, behind pillars, in corners, "Come out, come out, wherever you are! I just wanna talk!" She threw open a trash lid."

The red dot reappeared, once again placing itself squarely between Yang's eyes, despite her constant movement.

Pop!

Another BB pellet struck her in the exact same spot.

"AGH!" Yang clutched her forehead, more surprised than hurt. With her Aura, it must've been like being flicked. Annoying, but not actually painful, "Stop that!"

"Surrender advised," May's voice came through the walkie-talkie, calm as ever, "You are outmatched. Over."

"Like hell I am!" Yang spun around, facing the opposite direction, "You just got lucky twice!"

The red dot appeared between her eyes again, somehow, despite her facing a completely different direction.

Pop!

"HOW?!" Yang bellowed. She ducked behind a pillar and stayed there before peering out cautiously ten seconds later.

The red dot appeared on her forehead the instant she looked out.

Pop!

"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Yang shouted, now using a lunch tray as a shield as she ran in a zigzag pattern between tables.

The dot appeared on her forehead the second she lowered the tray to see where she was going.

Pop!

"WOULD YOU STOP THAT?!"

By now, the entire cafeteria was watching Yang's frantic search, many students laughing as she was repeatedly pegged with perfect accuracy no matter where she moved, "FINE!" Yang finally shouted, throwing her hands up in surrender and stomping back to their table, "Your creepy invisible partner exists! Happy now?"

"Firecracker neutralized," May announced, sounding just a little smug, "Target practice complete. Over."

Yang slumped into her seat, rubbing the spot between her eyes, "Your partner's a weirdo, Jaune." She growled.

"Yeah, I know," Jaune shrugged.

"But also AMAZING!" Ruby squealed, practically vibrating with excitement, "Those shots were perfect! No matter where Yang moved! Pop!" Yang scowled at her little sister, but she paid her no mind, "May, what kind of rifle do you use? Is it a custom build? What's your effective range? Is it a bolt action or semi-automatic? Does it transform like Crescent Rose? How many rounds per minute can you fire? What's your preferred ammunition?"

The walkie-talkie crackled with what almost sounded like a soft chuckle.

"Modified M24A2. Custom barrel. Effective range two miles with standard loads. Bolt action. Transforms into compact form for urban deployment. No melee form. Seventy-six confirmed Grimm kills at one mile plus. And no, not as cool as Crescent Rose, but more practical for extended surveillance. Over."

Ruby looked like she might faint from pure joy, "Can I SEE it? Please? PLEASE?!"

"Negative on visual inspection," May replied, "But willing to discuss specifications. Weapon talk is acceptable mission parameter. Over."

"YES!" Ruby pumped her fist in the air, "Jaune, can I borrow your walkie-talkie after lunch? May and I need to have a serious talk about optimal scope magnification for urban versus woodland environments!"

"Go for it," Jaune said, honestly relieved that someone was excited about his partner's weirdness. He wasn't much of a weapon junkie. He knew how to fire a gun - living outside the walls means you needed to know how to shoot a rifle in case of sudden Grimm attacks - but all he really knew was how to insert the magazine and aim down the sights. He was only marginally better with a sword and shield. Thank the Brothers he was a sack of Aura who knew how to take a hit.

"This is ridiculous," Weiss huffed, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force, "We have a teammate who shoots people in the cafeteria, never attends classes, never sleeps in her assigned bed, and somehow has the school administration wrapped around her finger. Am I the only one who sees how absurd this is?"

"I dunno," Blake said quietly, eyeing the walkie-talkie with interest, "Having someone watching your back that nobody can see... it seems kinda cool, actually. Knowing someone's always watching over you."

"It's WEIRD," Weiss insisted, "How am I supposed to coordinate team attacks with someone I can't even locate? How are we supposed to train together? The Vytal Festival Tournament is only months away, and I refuse to be embarrassed because one-fourth of our team is a disembodied voice!"

...

The red dot reappeared, this time landing right on the tiara on Weiss' perfect ponytail.

"Don't you dare!" Weiss yelped, diving under the table.

"May," Jaune said into the walkie-talkie, "We talked about this. No shooting the team leader."

A disappointed sigh crackled through, "Fine, Blonde Shield. Ice Queen remains un-pelleted. For now. Over."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Weiss shrieked from under the table.

Jaune looked around at his friends - Yang rubbing her forehead and glaring at empty air, Ruby bouncing excitedly, Blake hiding a smile behind her book, Ren calmly eating, Pyrrha looking politely confused, and Weiss refusing to come out from under the table. This was his life now. And somehow, despite all the craziness, he found himself smiling.

"Hey, May?" he said quietly into the walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, Blonde Shield? Over."

"Nice shooting. Over."

There was a pause. Then, "Thanks, Jaune. Over and out."

[line break]

Poor Weiss. Good thing Jaune doesn't flirt with her in this version of the story or you just know May would've eben constantly pelting her ass with BBs. Next chapter will switch the POV to Weiss and should be the last one.

Zenless Zone Zero x RWBY Crossover, Chapter 1 of 3.

Zenless Zone Zero and RWBY crossover. This'll only be a threeshot, so don't worry about it distracting from other fics.

Patreon note - Sorry for the delays everyone. Things changed at work and I got a new position, so things were hairy for a bit. I promise the next update - the final(?) chapter for Rizzless V1 Jaune - will come out quicker.

[line break]

Weiss did not like Jaune Arc.

For anyone who knew her, this wasn't some grand revelation or some secret finally come to the light. She'd never once hidden how she felt about the the cocky young man ever since he started flirting with her before Initiation. She didn't lead him on or feign politeness that could've given him mixed signals. She flat out told him no. No. Not a chance. Not even if he was the last man on Remnant. And what did he say to that? 'So you're saying there's a chance' with a falsely confident smile on his face.

She'd nearly tossed him into the Emerald Hollow for that.

It wasn't just the fact that he flirted with her. No, she was sadly all too used to that. As the heiress to the SDC, she'd had more than her fair share of admirers. Even when she was just the spare to Winter, people knew that getting close to her meant a connection to the SDC. There were 'playdates' and various other attempts for parents to have their children befriend her. Her 'childhood friends', if one could call them that, were nothing more than sycophants in the making forced by their mothers and fathers into becoming her toadies. She honestly felt sorry for them. Children used as pawns in their parents' power plays. It was sickening.

It only got worse when she officially become the heiress at 14 when Winter went to the army. After that, the the playdates and 'casual' invitations made way for not-so-subtle arranged marriages. Talks about how she and so-so made such a cute couple or how they fit so well together. She could see the greed in their eyes. They didn't see a girl who'd barely entered her teens. They saw a potential profit margin, an 'in' with the biggest corporation in all of Remnant. One man even older than her own Father had offered himself as a possible husband when she'd barely turned 15. Even Father seemed appalled by that; for the audacity, if nothing else.

She felt far less pity for the overconfident young men who considered themselves the Gods' gift to women. They thought of her as nothing more than same vapid princess to be swayed by their so-called charms. It wasn't even about the SDC to them, not completely. No, it was all about claiming her, as if she was a prize to be won. It didn't matter if she said no or that she made it clear she wasn't interested. They thought they had a chance and they refused to see otherwise.

Arc was just like that. While she'd give him credit that he wasn't hungry for her family name or fortune like those other cads, his misplaced confidence irritated her all the same. Weiss had a list of characteristics she disliked, and one of the ones at the top was misplaced confidence. She was fine with having a healthy ego - she'd rolled her eyes at Yang, but the blonde could more than back up her claims - but she couldn't stand those who proclaimed themselves better than they were. It was irritating hearing Arc pretend to be some great Huntsman in the making when he was practically failing all the Huntsmen courses he took.

Which was a shame. Arc may have been sub-standard at best as a prospective Huntsman, but as a Proxy (technically, the proper term was Guide, but almost no one used that) he was one of the best in their year. His carrot data was among the most accurate she'd ever seen and his Semblance - which allowed him to remotely control his Bangboo - meant that he could be more active in supporting Huntsmen in the field. If he focused solely on that, he would've been one of the best in his field.

Instead, he insisted on becoming a Huntsman despite being clearly unfit for it.

She didn't fault him for wanting to be something different - after all, she herself had broken out of the cage her father set her in. She did fault him for being incompetent about it, however. This was Beacon. To even get your foot in the door, you needed to be among the best in your peer group, whether that was as a Huntsman or a Proxy. Arc had gotten in because of his skills as a Proxy and yet he insisted on taking majority Huntsman courses.

Double-dipping wasn't uncommon in this line of work. Weiss herself had taken some courses to interpret carrot data in case their Bangboos ever got destroyed or malfunctioned and Ruby had taken a class on Bangboo maintenance. But for the most part, everyone stuck to their tracks. She didn't have the skills to make it as a Proxy and she was sensible enough to understand that trying to do both only meant succeeding in neither.

Perhaps it was due to that dated perception of Proxies somehow being lesser compared to Huntsmen. Foolish. Meatheads like Cardin Winchester, and even Yang to an extent, saw themselves as inherently better than Proxies because they did the 'hard work'. As if even the strongest Huntsman wouldn't just die to Grimm corruption if they didn't have a map to get outside of the Hollow. As a Proxy, Weiss respected Arc. It was just everything else that made her not want to be in the same room as him.

Which was why she had to force herself to trudge along as Ruby practically dragged her by the arm to the courtyard. It was the Vytal Tournament, which meant visitors. Winter would be arriving in a few days, but Ruby insisted that they be there when Arc's 'old gang' visited. Ugh. If she didn't care for the man himself, what made her think she'd be any more receptive to his group of Outer Ring ruffians?

...

What? She wasn't prejudiced! It wasn't like with the Faunus, which she already acknowledged as wrong. Was she prejudiced in despising the White Fang now? The Outer Ring wasn't much different. True, they weren't terrorists like Blake's former group, but she'd heard the stories. It was full of unlicensed Huntsman and it was where criminals and exiles fled to when they were barred from their kingdoms. Romantics and delinquents like Blake and Yang called it a 'fresh start' or a 'rebel's paradise', but Weiss saw the place for what it really was: a haven for those that had been rejected by polite society. A wretched hive of scum and villainy.

"I can't wait to see what they're like!" Ruby said, blatantly ignoring her displeasure. She promised her partner that she'd hold her tongue when Arc's gang - something about Kids of Caliente? - arrived, but if Arc flirted with her again or tried to ask her out one more time, she wouldn't hesitate to give him a dressing down in front of the entire Outer Ring.

Yang and Pyrrha were already there. Yang because she was obsessed with the Outer Ring and Pyrrha because she, for whatever reason, had a crush on Arc. Weiss sighed. She would've told Arc flat out about it (it wasn't her fault that Pyrrha had bad taste) if the champion hadn't begged her not to. As a favor for someone she admired, Weiss agreed to keep mum, even if it meant having to deal with his incessant 'charms'. Let it never be said that she didn't sacrifice for her friends.

Arc, of course, was a little further ahead near the bullheads proper. He turned around to greet them, "Morning, Rubes. Snow Angel." His lips quirked up in a 'suave' smile. Weiss' right eye twitched, "Just in time! I got a call from Big Sis that they're on the next ship. Should be here any minute now."

"You've been talking your old gang up a bunch, VB. They better be at least half as cool you say they are." Yang crossed her arms.

"Oh please, I didn't even tell you the best stories! I wouldn't be able to do them justice." Arc rubbed his chin proudly, "Seriously, just wait till you hear what Big Sis and Big Bro've been up to since I went to Beacon."

"I'm sure they'll live up to the legend." Pyrrha smiled pleasantly. Poor girl.

The next airship landed and scores of tourists milled out. The Vytal Tournament was one of the few times that Beacon was open to the general public and many were taking advantage. Among the sea of civilians, what she presumed to be Arc's gang stood out. Five women and one man, all dressed in leather. The style practically screamed 'Outer Ring'. The group couldn't have blended in if they tried. Even Yang, for all her claims of being a rebellious icon, looked like a common pleb by comparison.

The one in front of was a tall woman with light green hair and muscles that put some of the Huntresses she'd seen to shame. Her arms and legs, which her stockings and shorts only drew attention to, showed off the results of what must've been years of hard work. Her right arm was covered by the sleeve of her baggy leather jacket, but the left was left bare, exposing the corded, scarred muscles. Weiss made a point of not looking at the taller woman's chest, though she did wonder how she didn't suffer heatstroke. She heard the Outer Ring was a boiling death trap.

From her left elbow down, the skin turned from sun-kissed to pure black. Weiss' first thought was a glove, but a closer look made it clear it was a prosthetic. Odd. It looked rather advanced for someone from the Outer Ring.

'She probably stole it,' the thought came unbidden.

The one to her direct right looked like someone from one of Yang's teen magazines. Tall and covered in leather from the neck down with his eyes hidden by a pair of dark aviators. Among the sea of black, a long red scarf trailed behind him, adding a splash of color to the ensemble. He didn't show an inch of skin, but his physique was obvious despite that. She took note of his stance too. She'd been surrounded by bodyguards before she was old enough to walk and his gait was all too familiar. He tried to hide it behind a relaxed stance, but she could tell. He was keeping an eye out for threats.

"Jauney~" Another woman pushed past the pair and tackled Arc in a sudden embrace, nearly toppling him over. She looked like an odd mix of juvenile and slanderous. The twintails and comically large hair decorations, plus her jubilant expression, made her seem almost younger than Ruby. Everything else about her didn't. Leather jacket, leather skirt, a crop that pushed up against her ludicrously-sized chest, and... were those golden high heels? She was a heel connoiseur herself, but even she found those over the top.

"Careful there, Burnice," a lazy voice called out. Weiss turned to the source and frowned at the sight of what looked like a girl who couldn't have been past fourteen yawning. As a Huntress-in-training, she was all too used to odd fashion senses. It was practically encouraged in Huntsman culture. Still, the sight of a child wearing a camisole, bike shorts, and pants clipped to her belt that didn't even cover her rear-end was apalling. Did no one in the Outer Ring have any sense of propriety?

"So this is Beacon?" The one that spoke next was a Thiren. A Cat Thiren, specifically. She was even more sparsely dressed than her compatriots. A white tanktop that almost blended with her yellowand cream colored fur, jean shorts about the same size as Yang's usual outfit, and a sleeveless leather vest that might as well have not been there. What stuck out the most was a black and red mask that covered the lower half of her face, which made her look (needlessly) menacing.

Thirens were a rare sight. She'd only ever seen a handful throughout her whole life. Up until recently, she held a dislike for the Faunus due to the actions of the White Fang, but her feelings for Thirens were far more muted. There were a few of them in the White Fang, true, but for the most part, the race kept to themselves. The last Thiren she recalled was that dashing butler von Lycaon her dad hired for some 'off the books' tasks.

Weiss was considering just slipping out then and there when an oddly familiar voice screamed, "Grassy, Woody, Bricky! Don't wander off!" Her brows furrowed. She knew that voice. Weiss looked past the much taller figures to the shortest one at the back. He'd ignored her at first, her attention drawn to the much taller and more imposing figures, but now that she took a closer look, it only took her a moment to realize that the woman at the back wasn't a stranger at all.

Luciana Montefio.

She almost didn't recognize her. The last time Weiss ahd seen her, she'd been dressed in attire fitting for the Montefio heiress. And now? A torn dark shirt, a poofy sleeved leather jacket, daisy dukes(!), red-tipped leather boots, leather opera gloves, and...was that an old Atlesian army helmet? Weiss stared goggle eyed as the red-eyed blonde stamped her foot and coralled three knee-high boar Thiren. She had the air of nobility around her, managing to look dainty and out of place compared to her other compatriots. Like a noblewoman playing at being a delinquent.

A part of her still couldn't believe her eyes. When Luciana left, it was a scandal. The talk of Atlas for at least two weeks (which was a long time for those self-interested fops). And why wouldn't it be? While the SDC was the biggest corporation in Atlas - possibly even all of Remnant - the Montefios were firmly in second place. Lesser than the Schnees, but better than everyone else. They had their hands in weapons manufacturing, robotics, and even alternative energy sources. Dust was still King in Remnant, but it allowed them to tap into an unknwon market.

So of course, the sole heir to the company running away was the talk of the kingdom. People had mostly forgotten about it now, of course. Nowadays, it was only ever brought up by fossils trying to dig at Alexander Montefio. Jealousy and spite, really.

"Hey, little bro!" She was jarred out of her staring when the green-haired woman shouted boisterously, "How've ya been?"

Arc, who was still barely carrying the blonde in the leather skirt, laughed, "Pretty cool, big sis! I've been doing great on classes." Weiss rolled her eyes. No, he wasn't, "Uh, lemme introduce you to my friends! This is my partner Pyrrha, that's Ruby, that's Yang, and that's Snow An- uh, Weiss." He gestured to each of them in turn."

"Nice to meet ya'll." The woman grinned, "Name's Caesar! Thanks for taking care of our little bro."

"Oh, i-it was no problem!" Pyrrha said meekly, mouth curled up in an awkward smile.

"He must've been a handful." The only man in the group chuckled, his voice deep and smooth, "Name's Lighter, by the way." He smiled lopsidedly. He was handsom, in a rugged sort of way. Weiss didn't miss the way Yang was looking him up and down.

"And I'm Burnice!" The twintailed blonde said, finally letting go of Arc, "Hey, Jaune, I brought my special Nitro Fuel just for you! No one else gets a sip!"

"Ha, awesome!" Arc pumped his fist, "But, uh, maybe Auntie Piper needs some? She looks like she's about to pass out." He gestured to the inappropriately dressed child.

Wait, did he say Auntie?

"Eh, I'll be fine. You young'uns just have too much energy for little ol' me." The child(?) yawned, "Besides, I'll be meeting with Pete and Bart after. Bart'll gimme a little pick-me-up."

"Uh...are you talking about Professor Port and Oobleck?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah. Been years since I saw em. We need to catch up on the good old days." Piper scratched her belly, "You know what they say: older you get, you see friends going more than coming. Gotta hold onto the ones ya got left."

Weiss didn't get a chance to comment on that before the Thiren finally spoke, "Name's Pulchra."

"You could stand to be less gruff." Luciana scoffed. The three boar thiren were huddled around her feet like scolded children, "You're representing the Sons of Calydon now."

"Says the person who didn't introduce herself yet." Pulchra rolled her eyes.

"I-I was getting to that!" She coughed and stood up straight, "My name is Luciana, but all may call me Lucy. It's such a pleasure to-" She paused as soon as her eyes met Weiss. Red orbs met blue and the blonde's haughty expression turned into something sharper, "My, my, is that Weiss Schnee I spot? I heard rumors that you were playing pretend Huntress."

The friendly atmosphere around the group suddenly turned cold. Weiss' lips curled in an equally sharp smile. As daughters to the two biggest companies in Remnant, it was expected that the two would have rivalry of a sort. When they were younger, it had been forced upon them. Father told her to treat the other girl, barely two years her senior, as an enemy while Luciana was no doubt given the same instructions. Their first interaction had been laced with insults and double-edged comments no children should've been saying.

Somewhere along the line, their dispute had turned from an obligation to something sincere. She couldn't even remember whether it was due to some big thing or just them genuinely growing to truly dislike one another. Regardless, their years-long spat ended when Luciana ran away two years back when Weiss was 17. By then, she'd already made plans to attend Beacon and the other heiress' disappearance hadn't occupied her mind.

Seeing her again - that crooked smile, those half-lidded eyes, the snappy words - brought it all rushing back to the forefront.

"And I heard that you ran off. I guess I shouldn't be surprised you ended up in that dustbowl." The same barbed insults from years past resurfaced. The logical part of her said that there was no point to it. Luciana wasn't a Montefio anymore, so there was no need to keep up the conflict. And yet, hadn't she been minding her own business when the other woman decided to mock her for no reason? She was the one who chose to start a fight. Weiss would simply end it.

"Hmph, I don't expect a daddy's girl like you to understand. We aren't all comfortable living under our parents' strings."

"Big talk coming from a runaway who turned herself into a criminal."

"Woah, woah, woah! What's going on here?" The tall woman - Caesar, she reminded herself - "Luce, you know her?"

"An acquaintance of the past before I left Atlas. And not a pleasant one." It was amazing how haughty she sounded despite how she was dressed. Weiss was almost impressed, "When Jaune told us about his, ugh, infatuation with someone he called his Snow Angel, I hardly imagined it would be Weiss Schnee, of all people. Frankly, I thought he'd have better taste."

"H-Hey now! Come on, Lucy!" Arc said, stepped between them. It only irritated her more, "Weiss is great! I'm not sure what happened between you two, but I'm sure if you just talk-"

"We have nothing to talk about." Weiss crossed her arms. All eyes from both groups were on the two of them now, but she didn't care, "We don't see each other in years and the first thing she says when she sees me is saying I'm 'playing pretend Huntress'? I see no need to make false niceties. And another thing," She shoved a finger harshly against his armored torso, "I am not, nor will I ever be, 'your Snow Angel'. It's bad enough that you insist on calling me that here, but doing so even when talking to your gang? How would you like it if I called you 'that yellow-haired buffoon' to my letters back home?"

"Uh...well-"

"Hey, leave him alone!" Luciana stomped up to her, looking up with her face knotted in a scowl. Weiss was never the tallest (much to her annoyance), but even she (albeit with her heels) was taller than the former Montefio heiress.

"What? Am I not allowed to disagree if someone flirts incessantly with me without my consent?"

"You-"

"Alright, cool it." The child(?) from before cut in, "It's obvious you two've got some beef, but we're not here to stir up old grudges. We're here to visit Jaune."

"I wasn't the one who used an insult as a greeting." Weiss scoffed.

"She's a Schnee, Piper. The daughter of the bastard who hired Lucius." Luciana growled.

"Hold up, Luce. That was Old Man Schnee," Caesar cut in, "Even if she's his kid, she wasn't the one who did all that crap." Weiss' brows furrowed. Despite her anger, some part of her was still curious. She wasn't naive. Even months back when she was at her worst, she knew her father was... morally flexible at best. She wondered what it was her father had done.

The Outer Ring was one of the very few places - possibly the only one - that didn't use Dust. They used something called oil instead. It baffled her even now. Dust was so much more practical and versatile, and yet they insisted on harvesting that black sludge out of some misguided sense of independence. While she respected a desire to stand on one's own two feet, was it really worth losing the use of something as integral as Dust?

She was just about to ask what they were talking about when Luciana scoffed, "Oh please. She's a little daddy's girl, always has been. I doubt she didn't know what he hired Lucius for."

Suddenly, all thoughts of clarification slipped her mind. A vein bulged on her forehead and she let out an honest to Brothers growl. Luciana had a way of getting under her skin like no one else could. It appeared two years hadn't changed that in the least, "Big words coming from some runaway Outer Ring ruffian." Weiss put her hands on her hips, "If you think I'm going to stand here and let you insult me, Luciana, you're sorely mistaken."

"Is that a threat, Schnee?" She said her named like a curse. It only angered her more.

Before she could retaliate with another barbed insult, the energetic one - Burnice - suddenly cut in, "Oh, I know how we can settle this!" She clapped her hands, "You two should have a fight! Oh, wait, let's make it group fight! Your team vs us! Then when we beat each other up, you two can kiss and make up when you realize you're destined to be best friends! It's just like the shounen manga Caesar pretends to read instead of her shoujo stuff!"

"I-I'm not pretending anything!" Caesar sputtered.

"That's fine with me," Weiss said, "Solo, as a team, it doesn't matter. I'll wipe that arrogant look off your face."

"Hmph, that's my line!" Luciana scowled, "The Sons of Calydon never run from a fight, especially not from pampered brats."

"Don't forget, they're still keeping our weapons on lockup." The man - Lighter - said. Weiss frowned. They weren't Huntsmen, so that made sense, but it only gnawed at her impatience, "Hm...maybe we postpone this till tomorrow? Let us choose who's going to go for this thing."

"Count me out." The cat Thiren - Pulchra - said, "I'm not getting paid enough to fight rich girl grudge matches."

"Do you guys really have to do this?" Arc asked with a whine.

"Stay out of this." Weiss didn't even turn to look at him, "My team against yours tomorrow, Luciana."

"Weiss, Blake's not gonna be here tomorrow. She's down visiting someone in Vale, remember?" Ruby said, sounding like she'd rather be anywhere but here..

"That doesn't matter!" Weiss growled, "We're Huntresses-in-training! Even if we're down one member, we can certainly deal with them!"

"Have it your way. Once we get our weapons back, I'll make you eat your words." Luciana clicked her tongue, "Come on, Jaune, let's go before I get even angrier."

"Huh, but-" The smaller blonde grabbed his arm and tugged him along despite his protests with the rest of their gang following, leaving only the four of them. Weiss watched them go, her face set in a deep frown. Luciana didn't seem hesitant in the least, though perhaps that was to be expected. She clearly hadn't lost her pride despite her fall from grace. She doubted the other woman was that adept in combat. Weiss' interest in fencing marked her as an anomaly among her peers. Scrapping in the Outer Ring wouldn't come close to matching the level of training she'd gotten.

"Did you seriously volunteer us to fight for your honor or something?" Yang groaned.

"Since when did you ever turn away the chance to fight?" Weiss raised a brow.

"Never, but usually, people aren't volunteering me without even asking." She sighed and brought a hand through her hair, "Ah, whatever. Maybe if I'm lucky, that big guy's gonna be part of the other team. I can tell he's packing under that jacket. I wanna see what he can do with those arms." She put a hand on her chin and grinned.

"Don't be crude, Yang." Weiss rolled her eyes and turned to Pyrrha. She'd barely said a word since Arc's gang arrived. Her eyes had been glued to that Caesar woman, "Would you be interested in joining this spar, Pyrrha?"

"Huh? O-Oh, no thank you!" She shook her head, "Actually, I should go..." She shuffled away with an awkward gait unfitting for her skills.

"...What's up with Pyrrha?" Ruby asked.

"The mind wonders." She called Blake on her scroll only to receive no reply. The heiress' brow furrowed. Where was she?

[line break]

Blake trudged through Vale with her head held low, hands stuffed into the pockets of her baggy hoodie. She'd changed from her usual attire in favor of something more downbeat. The aforementioned gray hoodie, dark jeans, and old boots she wore during some more strenuous hikes back... before. It wasn't her usual style, but that was the point. It made her look like a face in the crowd. Because the last thing she needed right now was her team finding out what she did in her free time.

She liked Team RWBY, she really did, but there were some things she wanted to stay secret.

She walked the familiar pathways. Down an alley, up a fire escape, and finally through the door where the lock didn't even properly work. Blake sighed. She'd warned them over and over that it wasn't safe, but Nicole always brushed her off. Repairing that door would take lien. Besides, she said, it wasn't like anyone but the five of them went up this way.

The sight that greeted her when she entered was all too familiar.

"Billy! Where did you get that?!" Nicole screamed, pointing accusingly at the Monica album the android was desperately trying (and failing) to keep behind his back, "Ugh, I knew we were more in the red than normal this month!" Blake didn't know whether to laugh or cry. More in the red. As in, they were already in the red. Nicole was just angry that it was more than usual.

"B-Boss, come on!" Billy pleaded, his blank face somehow managing to convey just how terrified he was, "It's a limited edition! Only 50 in all of Vale!" The pink haired woman growled and took a single step forward, "O-Okay, so maybe I took some lien from the emergency fund, but this was an emergency! I'll never have the chance to get this kind of merch again! J-Just take it out of my cut of the next job!"

"Next job?! You'll be lucky if I don't sell you for spare parts!" Nicole grabbed his jacket and shook him angrily. Just a few feet away on the (second-hand) couch, Anby sat without a care, watching a new movie while munching on a burger. It was a common day for the Cunning Hares. Nicole lost her temper, but they knew it was more bark than bite. Billy would use some cheap, shady black market parts for his maintencance to make up the difference. And Anby? She'd think nothing was wrong and it was all part of Nicole's cunning leadership.

Her eyes shifted from the three to Nekomata sleeping in the corner. She was the newest member of the group, joining just a week before Blake left for Beacon. It was supposed to be her last job, a simple snatch and grab from the Red Fang gang (no relation to the White Fang). Instead, it ended up being a whole thing where they barely made it out alive against the Dead End Butcher. She shuddered. She'd faced Grimm before, but the oldest ones inside Hollows always had an eerie quality to them. Like they were more than just mindless beasts.

And they all got involved because of Nekomata. The Fauren girl (half-Faunus, half-Thiren) was planning to kill them because of Miguel Silver getting himself turned into a Grimm until they ran into that mess with the Vision corporation. Billy, Anby, and Nicole forgave her and invited her to join the group, but Blake still had her doubts. Maybe it was because of her past, but she found it absurd just how quick the three of them were to forgive attempted murder. While she didn't hate the other girl, there was a distance between them; not helped by her leaving soon after she joined.

"...I see nothing's changed."

All eyes turned to her. Billy's blank eyes widened and he pulled away from Nicole, desperate to draw the attention away form himself, "Blake, hey!"

"Greetings." Anby nodded before turning back to the CRT TV (it was all they could afford).

"Heh. Well, look you came crawling back." Nicole crossed her arms and smirked. It was a joke, of course. Nicole was the only reason she'd even gotten into Beacon at all. Beacon used to accept just about everyone if they could pass the exams, but they changed that policy a decade ago. Now there were background checks. Sometimes they didn't find anything, but for Blake? She was a Faunus with parents basically founded the White Fang. If they looked deeper, they'd see that connection and she could kiss her chance at being a proper Huntress goodbye.

But Nicole, somehow, was owed a favor by one of the staff. She didn't reveal who it was, but it was enough that she was allowed to take the exam without anyone looking too close at her background or ask too many questions.

"I'm back." Blake smiled. Yang might've liked to take credit for 'getting her out of her shell', but she'd been 'out' of it long before Beacon.

After Adam, she'd been desperate. Her attempts to get into Beacon were at a dead end and she was at her lowest point. She had had nothing but the clothes on her back and what little she could take with a to-go bag. Vale was better for her kind than Mistral and Atlas, but she was still a minority in a city that was already overpopulated. Jobs weren't easy to come by. It came down to begging on the streets, joining a gang, or becoming an independent thief.

Meeting Nicole had been a blessing in disguise. She'd gotten desperate enough that she took on a job as a Hollow Raider from a sketchy client. She didn't have a choice. Stupid. Her carrot data became inaccurate barely an hour in and she would've turned into a Grimm if Nicole, Billy, and Anby hadn't run into her. When they offered her a place in the group after they made it out, she took it for the lifeline it was. For a desperate woman with nowhere to go, it was practically a godsend.

She expected the position to be temporary. Maybe work a few jobs before splitting off with whatever meager share they could get. Instead, she ended up staying with them for almost a year. She lived with them, ate with them, and bickered about stupid stuff she can't even remember. It was both similar and completely different form her time in the White Fang. There was no culture of martyrdom or a leader that told them they had to sacrifice themselves to the cause without hesitation. Nicole might've had the financial sense of a lemming with debts to half the city's loan sharks, but she... she was a good person.

She almost forgot about becoming a Huntress altogether and considered just staying with them, but they'd pushed her into doing it. Nicole framed it as getting connections to a future top Huntress, but she could tell that was just hot air.

"How Beacon? Bet it beats getting shot at by the gangs." Billy chuckled.

"You'd be surprised." Blake rolled her eyes, "One of my teammates is Weiss Schnee, by the way."

"Huh?" Nicole blinked, suddenly looking nervous, "You, uh, didn't tell her about m- us, right?"

"No."

"Oh! Well, good!" Nicole nodded quickly. Blake sighed intenrally. Nicole had a...colorful history, and somehow that included scamming Weiss out of 50,000 lien a year back. While it was nothing in the grand scheme of things - her monthly allowance was at least four times that - Weiss wasn't one to be slighted. There was no chance the heiress would just let it slide if she knew Blake was working with her scammer.

"Nyaa~" Nekomata stretched exagerratedly, tongue darting out to quickly lick her right knuckle. Blake frowned. That was another reason Blake's relationship with her was strained. She'd fought for years for Faunus to be seen as more than just the sum of their animal parts. Yet here Nekomata was, seemingly proud of being a walking cliche, "Nicole, what are we gonna do about dinner tonight?"

The reminder of their dire financial straits caused the (one-sided) argument between Nicole and Billy to flare up again. Blake brought a hand across her face and sat down next to Anby on the lumpy couch. She cared about them, but there was a reason she was so quick to get used to team RWBY's shenanigans. No matter how much Nicole wanted to pretend they were a professional outfit, the truth of it was that it was a miracle if they could go more than a few months without going back into the red.

"Guess it's back to discounts at the farmer's market." Nekomata yawned, "I'll handle it."

"No need. I can treat you all." Beacon didn't have a proper mission board for professional Huntsmen, but students were given a scaled down version. Across the term, students were expected to accomplish a minimum amount of them with escalating difficulty depending on the year. First years were generally only allowed the most basic of work. Shadowing deputies, working with a village militia, or (if they were lucky) killing Grimm inside a Hollow under the supervision of an older Huntsman. It was good practice for both Huntsmen and Proxies.

And of course, they got paid too. Not a lot - especially when it had to be split four ways - but it incentivized doing more missions than the minimum. And Blake was used to saving and living frugally.

Nicole's pissed off expression disappeared, replaced by a catty (ugh) smile, "Oh, Blake~ I know you'd come to our rescue!"

"Hehe, maybe I won't have to sell my parts before I see big sis and the others tomorrow." Billy's shoulders slumped.

"I recommend burgers. There's a sale on Big Bang Burger today," Anby said.

"Ugh, burgers again? Let's go for mackerel this time!" Nekomata whined. Blake resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Yet another stereotype. Why couldn't she think of something different? Like ramen with tuna. Mmm, that sounded nice...

Nekomata, Nicole, and Billy started debating on where they should eat. Blake leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. Being here felt different than being with team RWBY. She trusted her new teammates, but even then, she kept up her guard. She didn't even take off her bow. What if someone outside of the team walked in, she told herself. But here, the bow was stuffed into her pocket and her cat ears were finally given time to breath again.

"How is Beacon?" Anby asked softly next to her.

"It's...fine." Blake stared up at the ceiling. Team RWBY was working out despite some initial bumps, and Yang was a decent partner, all things considered. But not for the first time, she found herself wondering what would come next. Once she got her license, what then? She thought becoming a Huntress would be her shot at bridging the gap between Humans and Faunus, but was it really that simple? And what about the Cunning Hares? Could she still work with them once she was licsensed? Hollow Raiding was illegal, even if the government looked the other way for the most part. Would they do the same if a Huntress was working with them?

"Are you happy there?"

"I...I think so."

"Hm." Anby finished off her burger, "Please don't forget us."

"What?" She sat up straighter and looked the white-haired girl in the eye, "What are you talking about?"

"When you become a Huntress. Please don't forget us."

Blake opened her mouth, but no words came. Was Anby really worried about that? She'd eben stoic and unfazed for all the months Blake knew her. But now, she sounded like she was making an earnest plea. It left her feeling flat-footed.

"Anby, I-" She stopped. Wait a minute, didn't she hear that before? "Anby...are you quoting a line from Silver Eyed Journey?" She remembered the exact scene. It was when the heroine's childhood friend said goodbye to her before she left to become a Huntress. His last plea was that when she became a Huntress, that she didn't forget about them. She didn't - her last thoughts before sacrificing herself was about her village.

Anby's eyes flicked to the side, "No." A pause, "This was not an attempt to endear myself to you so you'll pick Big Bang Burger." Another pause, "If that's what you're thinking."

...

A vein bulged on the Cat Faunus' forehead. This little...

"We're eating at the Tuna Shack," Blake announced. All four of them, even Anby, complained, but she drowned them out. Her money, her choice. Maybe that'd teach the burger addict a lesson about tugging on her heartstrings.

[line break]

This chapter was pretty exposition heavy. Sorry about that. It was also supposed to be more Jaune-focused, but it ended up shifting to the Weiss/Lucy rivalry and Blake being the surprise fifth Cunning Hares member.

The next chapter will be the SoC and RWY sparring match, Lucy and Weiss arguing, and an appearance from Winter with a plotline focused on Anby. It will have Soldier 0 Anby spoilers, so be warned.

Team Rizzless - Volume 1 Jaune Omake, Part 3

Next chapter might be the last one. We'll see. Also, apparently you're supposed to put a space after ellipsis when used in sentences. My life is a lie.

I'll be doing the Zenless Zone Zero crossover oneshot now! Enjoy this till then.

[line break]

Jaune was living the dream.

...Sort of.

Okay, maybe not exactly the dream he'd originally set out for when he first enrolled at Beacon. He'd planned to become a great Huntsman. A knight in shining armor, the kind of guy who saved villages and protected the innocent. He did not plan to get flung into some alternate version of Remnant where men didn't have Aura, Huntsmen didn't exist, and every single Huntress was thirstier than a man lost in Vacuo's desert.

He also didn't expect (outside of his heavy nighttime dreams) to be spending most of his time getting dragged into bed by Weiss, only to be released hours later as a shaking, barely-functioning mess while she pranced around like the smug, victorious queen of Beacon.

And the worst part? He didn't really mind.

Jaune should've been concerned. He should've been looking for a way back to his world, or at the very least, having some kind of existential crisis over the fact that, apparently, the Arc family didn't even exist here - or at least, they were in some outside settlement that wasn't on any record. He should've been freaking out about how he had no parents, no sisters, and no home in this Remnant. But every time he tried to think about it, Weiss would just happen to appear, throw herself at him, and before he knew it, he'd lose another several hours to her "distractions."

Weiss Schnee was a lot of things. A rich girl, an heiress, and a Huntress-in-training. Also, a former ice-queen-turned-way-too-affectionate-girlfriend. But above all else? She was really good at keeping him from questioning his new existence existence.

And if that wasn't enough, she bragged. A lot.

It had started subtly... well, as subtly as Weiss could manage. A smug smirk here, a satisfied little hum there, a lingering look that screamed I know something you don't. But then it escalated. Weiss loved showing off, that was just a fact. And right now? Jaune was her trophy.

She was utterly, shamelessly obnoxious about it.

Jaune lost count of how many times she casually tossed an, "Oh, my Jaune kept me up all night. I'm exhausted," into random conversations. How often she threw a pointed glance at the other Huntresses as she clung to his arm like she was staking a claim. How she deliberately sighed in bliss at breakfast, stretched like a cat basking in the sun, and muttered something about how her "beloved was so talented." while squirming in her seat.

The Huntresses were furious.

Weiss was public enemy number one among the Huntresses of Beacon. If looks could kill, she would've been vaporized by at least fifty different women by now with such intensity that not even dust remained. Jaune had never seen so many people seethe at once. And it was all over him. He didn't quite know how to feel about it at first.

It wasn't just the students, either. Professors were getting in on it. Headmistress Goodwitch, despite her best efforts to look unaffected, had taken to grinding her teeth every time Weiss made another smug comment about "my beloved's unparalleled stamina." Even some of the visiting Huntresses from other academies (who all came to Vale for the Vytal Tournament) weren't handling it well.

Jaune should have been offended. He should have been insulted that Weiss was treating him like a status symbol, a trophy boyfriend to wave in the faces of everyone around her.

But... well, sue him, it felt awesome. Jaune had spent most of his life being overlooked. He was the clumsy, awkward farm boy in the middle of seven siblings. The guy who had to fake his way into Beacon. The weakest link in a team of rising stars - or in Pyrrha's case, someone who'd already reached the top.

But here? Here, he was a legend. The only man with Aura. The only man to ever step foot in Beacon without coming out half-dead. The strongest non-Huntress in recorded history. The most coveted man in the entire kingdom.

It did wonders for his self-esteem.

Jaune had never been on the receiving end of so much admiration, jealousy, and outright desire. Every time he walked through the halls, heads turned, women whispered. Some trailed behind him just in case Weiss let her guard down for even a second. He gotten so many offers of dates (and other things) that he lost track. He couldn't so much as sit down in the library without a Huntress sidling up to him and casually stretching in a way that emphasized every curve. Many had taken to openly leering at him whenever Weisswasn't looking.

And of course, there was Weiss' absolute refusal to let anyone else have a shot. The moment any Huntress so much as breathed in his direction, Weiss was there, looming like a jealous dragon hoarding her most prized treasure. She clung to him at lunch. She refused to let him walk alone. She slept in his bed every night, curled around him like an affectionate kitten that wanted treats.

One particularly bold Huntress had tried to corner him between classes, blocking his path with a sultry smile. Jaune barely opened his mouth to respond before Weiss materialized out of nowhere, swooped in, and dragged him away while glaring absolute murder at the poor girl.

The Huntresses were so bitter... and Jaune kind of enjoyed it. Was it immature? Probably. But for once in his life, he wasn't the loser or the butt of every joke. He wasn't the weakest link, the guy being dragged along by people way stronger than him.

Here, he was the guy. And it was better that he enjoyed it instead of thinking about the whole family thing... for now.

[line break]

Weiss, in all her smug, preening glory, took a particular joy in rubbing her team's noses in exactly what she had that they didn't. It was one thing to flaunt Jaune in front of the rest of the Huntresses at Beacon - that was expected. That was Weiss taking what was hers and ensuring that every single woman who had even thought about making a move on her prize knew exactly where they stood. She told him that any one of those hussies would've done the same thing in her place.

But rubbing it in Blake and Yang's faces? That was a different level of cruelty entirely.

Weiss wasn't stupid. She knew precisely what she was doing when she allowed Blake that one night with him. She could have refused outright, could have told the Faunus girl (he was no and kept him all to herself from the start, but that wouldn't have been nearly as satisfying. No, denying Blake completely would have been a mercy. Letting her have a taste - just once, just enough for her to know exactly what she was missing - was the real punishment.

And oh, did Blake suffer for it.

Ever since that night, Blake had been seething, lingering on the edges of every interaction, her amber eyes filled with a barely-contained hunger that only grew worse with every passing day. She wanted him. Oh, she wanted him badly. She'd had one night, one opportunity, and now she knew what Weiss had every night (or day, she wasn't picky about time).

And what was worse was that Weiss had never given her a second chance. Her one time was the only time.

Blake tried, of course. She'd purred in Jaune's ear, leaned in close, let her fingers trail along his chest when Weiss wasn't looking. She made it abundantly clear that she was more than willing to pick up where they left off and that she had a collar she could put on. They never lasted long. The moment Weiss caught of a wiff of it, she'd swoop in, practically wrapping herself around Jaune in front of her teammate, shooting her a smug, knowing look that said, Oh, you poor, deprived thing. Did you think you could have him again?

And then there was Yang.

Weiss hadn't even let her try him. Jaune had assumed Yang would have let it go at first. She was confident, after all. Charismatic. She could have anyone she wanted with just a flex of those muscular arms and a cocky grin. Surely, she wouldn't be the type to get all bent out of shape about one guy.

But then Jaune remembered this was some bizarro world where the hottest women on Remnant couldn't get laid to save their life.

Yang was furious. Furious that she'd been denied, furious that Blake had at least gotten something while she had to make do with her imagination. It drove her insane. At first, she'd just made jokes about it, tossing out casual quips with that usual, lazy smirk, "Oh, come on, Weiss, you can't be that selfish," or, "Jaune, buddy, you sure you don't wanna explore your options a little?" She tried to make them sound lax, like she didn't really care either way and was offering because he wanted it.

But as time went on and it became painfully clear that Weiss was not going to budge, those quips became more pointed.

"Hey, Jaune, if you ever get tired of your prison warden, you know where to find me."

"Weiss, you know being clingy's not a good look, yeah? I mean, we're supposed to be teammates and you're just keeping him all to yourself."

Weiss, of course, handled it in a mature and magnanimous manner... okay, no. She was a downright bitch about it: she dangled it over their heads like a piece of meat just out of reach, "Maybe if you beg hard enough, I might consider it," she'd say airily, running a delicate finger along Jaune's chest as if to emphasize her point, "But only if Jaune agrees, of course. My dearest's consent comes first and foremost."

And of course, both of them would immediately turn to Jaune, expecting - demanding - that he take them up on the offer.

But every single time, Jaune found himself hesitating. Not because he wasn't tempted - because oh, boy, was he tempted - but because Weiss always watched. She would sit there, looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to make a choice, and something about the way she did it - like she already knew what his answer was going to be - always made him pause. He could sleep with them, and it'd probably feel amazing, but Weiss would only give them a taste. They'd only want more, and next time they'd be even more needy and desperate.

The hesitation was all Weiss needed to twist the knife, "Oh, Jaune," she'd coo, pressing herself closer, "Do you see how needy they are for your cock? So desperate for a taste of what only I have~." She kissed his right jaw.

That would always be the end of the conversation, because both Yang and Blake would be seething, Jaune would be half-hard and conflicted, and Weiss would be grinning like the smug little menace she was. He knew he should've called her out on it, but it was downright ego-stroking to see Weiss acting like she won the lottery because she was fucking him. Him. So as much as a part of him wanted to tell her to tone it down a notch, another, bigger (and harder) part told him to enjoy the wave.

The only one who didn't play into it was Unlike the rest of her team, Ruby was... normal. Normal in a way that made conversations with her so much easier compared to the constant sexual tension with the others. She didn't leer at him, didn't throw herself at him, and didn't try to seduce him every chance she got. She was just Ruby. The same dork who loved weapons and comic books...though, she sighed so often at her team's antics that Jaune was honestly amazed she hadn't passed out from oxygen deprivation.

"You guys are the worst," she groaned one morning at breakfast, watching Weiss literally sit in Jaune's lap while Blake and Yang glared absolute murder at her, "We're supposed to be studying to fight Grimm and, you know, be Huntresses! Not obsess over getting into a guy's pants!"

Talking to her was refreshing. She actually treated him like a person instead of some rare, exotic prize to be won. Not that he didn't enjoy that part, but there was that saying about too much of a good thing.

It helped that when he actually tried to talk to her about the whole "alternate universe" thing and that he wasn't supposed to be here, she actually listened instead of trying to drag him into bed. She sympathized about how it must be awful to be cut off from his family and how she wished she could help. It was nice. She even said she was willing to talk with him alone somewhere without Weiss coming in to interrupt every few minutes.

He almost agreed. Unfortunately, Weiss would quickly whisper about some new lingerie she bought and... and, well... Jaune was a bundle of hormones, and Weiss did keep him very, very occupied.

Figuring out his existential crisis could wait.

Later that night back at their bedroom, Jaune lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his mind drifting in a post-nut clarity haze that felt heavier than usual. His arms were still tingling, his legs felt like they'd been put through a full combat workout, and he could still feel the phantom sensation of Weiss' nails digging into his shoulders. The sheets were a tangled mess, twisted around his legs, the fabric clinging to his skin damp with sweat. The room smelled like sex and expensive perfume.

Weiss was curled up against his right side, one delicate hand draped over his chest, her breathing soft and even as she nestled into him. She always got clingy after sex (even clingier than usual), wrapping herself around him like a satisfied cat. Normally, he basked in the feeling. But not tonight. For once, Jaune wasn't basking in the smug satisfaction of having a gorgeous, rich Huntress practically worshiping him and crying about how much she wanted his cock inside her.

No, tonight, his brain had finally kicked back into gear.

He needed to do something for her.

Not just screwing her in empty classrooms, broom closets, or that one time on the rooftop when they were definitely supposed to be in combat class. No, he meant something real. Something meaningful. A date.

She paraded him around like a trophy, basked in the jealousy of others, and made damn sure every Huntress at Beacon knew he was hers. But for all her possessiveness, there wasn't really much else beyond that. Their time together consisted of either sex, Weiss smugly showing him off, or Weiss aggressively making sure Blake and Yang didn't get a single moment alone with him. That was it. Weiss had always been haughty, even in his world, but this version of her? She practically strutted everywhere like she was royalty.

Maybe if he did something nice for her, something real, she'd calm down a little. Maybe if he took her on an actual, proper date, she'd relax and stop acting like she had to mark her territory every five minutes.

Jaune exhaled through his nose, lifting a hand to run through Weiss' soft, pristine hair. She murmured something in her sleep, shifting to snuggle closer, and Jaune felt his chest squeeze a little. Even asleep, she needed to be touching him. And not just in that smug, self-satisfied way she used to brag to the others.

A date, then. Something nice. Something where she could be Weiss and not the smug heiress showing off her exclusive boyfriend. And, Jaune thought with no small amount of hope, maybe it'd make her tone down the whole 'trophy boyfriend' thing. He wasn't against her bragging about how lucky she was, but it'd been almost a week now. It was time to slow down a bit.

The next morning, Jaune caught her after breakfast, pulling her aside before she could drag him into another argument with Blake and Yang about whether or not this would be the day she finally let them have a turn. She blinked up at him as he led her a little further down the hall, her usual smug expression turning curious, "What is it, darling?" she asked, fluttering her lashes at him. She always managed to look flawless. She said it made it more exciting when he ruined her.

Jaune rolled his eyes at the dramatics but smiled anyway, "I was thinking," he started, rubbing the back of his neck, "We should, uh, actually go on a date."

Weiss blinked. Once, twice. He could practically hear the gears in her brain grinding to a halt, "A... date?" she echoed, like the word was some foreign concept.

Jaune chuckled nervously, "Yeah, you know. A proper date. Not just sneaking off between classes for a quickie or you parading me around the dining hall to make everyone jealous." He gave her a look, "Hanging out, just the two of us... and not just for sex. We head down to Vale, get dinner, maybe watch a movie. Do something fun."

Weiss just stared at him, her mouth slightly open like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Jaune started to wonder if he'd said something wrong when she suddenly sucked in a breath and quickly looked away, her cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink that looked stark against her alabaster skin, "Oh," she mumbled, "I... well..." She cleared her throat, schooling her expression into something more neutral, "That's... rather unexpected."

Jaune tilted his head, "Unexpected how? We're dating, aren't we?"

Weiss' fingers curled against the hem of her dress, eyes flicking away like she was embarrassed. He'd never seen her embarrassed before. Smug, yes. Preening, all the time. But this? It was actually kind of adorable, "Well, I just assumed you were perfectly happy with our current arrangement," she said, her voice a little too quick, "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

Jaune huffed, "Weiss, I like you." He smiled, reaching for her hands and lacing his fingers through hers. He gave them a small squeeze, "And I want take you on a date."

Weiss finally looked back up at him, something soft and vulnerable flashing in her eyes before she quickly hid it behind a flick of her hair. She cleared her throat again, but her usual arrogance didn't quite reach her voice when she finally replied, "Well, I suppose I can make time in my busy schedule."

Jaune smirked, "Oh? And here I thought you had me 'scheduled' every night."

Weiss turned an even darker shade of pink, but she lifted her chin and scoffed, "Of course I do. That doesn't mean I can't move things around if necessary."

Jaune grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead, "So, is that a yes?"

She hesitated for just a second before finally, shyly, nodding, "Yes."

Jaune felt his chest squeeze again. Ghk. So cute. It was the complete opposite to how she'd been acting all week. His cock twitched and he grit his teeth. No, bad Jaune Junior! This was supposed to be romantic! Not sex! They could have sex later, romance first!

[line break]

That weeked, the two of them took a Bullhead down to Vale for their date. It wasn't anything fancy - just a simple cafe, a movie, and a walk in the park - but that was the point. Weiss had always been extravagant in the way she flaunted him, in the way she made sure everyone knew that she, Weiss Schnee, had the first and only man with Aura all to herself. But here, outside of Beacon, where no one knew them, where no one was fighting over him or shooting them jealous glares, it was just...nice.

Weiss had even dressed down.

Jaune had seen her in everything from combat skirts to fancy ballroom dresses (admittedly, only so he could tear them off of her), but this was different. Gone were the layered silks and elaborate embroidery that screamed Schnee Heiress. Instead, she'd opted for a simple white sundress that ended just above her knees, light and airy, its thin straps leaving her shoulders bare. A matching sunhat perched atop her head, shading her face just slightly, and on her fee were a simple pair of white sandals Not heels, not expensive, tailored boots, just something casual and comfortable. It made him feel less awkward in his own clothes, a button-down shirt, slacks, and loafers. Nothing fancy, but he couldn't exactly afford the good stuff considering his situation.

The usual air of nobility and untouchable elegance was still there - she was still Weiss, after all - but today, it felt... cozier. More natural.

Jaune wasn't used to seeing her like this. It was almost weird. Not a bad weird, though. Just different.

For the first time since he ended up in this world, Weiss wasn't clinging to him like some kind of dragon hoarding its most prized treasure. She wasn't loudly announcing to every passing Huntress that he was hers, she wasn't rubbing it in anyone's face, and she wasn't whispering about all the things she was going to do to him when they got back to their room.

She was just holding his hand. And that felt nice.

They started their date at a small, quaint cafe near the center of Vale. Jaune had suggested something low-key, something where they wouldn't have to deal with a bunch of onlookers gawking at them, and Weiss had agreed with an almost hesitant nod. The place had a warm atmosphere, a gentle buzz of conversation in the background, and smelled of fresh coffee and pastries. It was his treat, even. Beacon students had weekly stipends both in this world and his. It was supposed to help them with things like Dust or other necessities, but Jaune never really needed much. Crocea Mors being a relic meant it was easy to feed.

Jaune ordered a simple breakfast - pancakes, eggs, and bacon - while Weiss, ever the refined lady, opted for a delicate fruit tart and tea. They sat by the window, watching the people of Vale go about their day. And for once, there was no audience. No professors watching them with thinly veiled jealousy, no students whispering about how unfair it was that Weiss got to claim him, no Blake or Yang fuming at the sidelines, no Ruby groaning about how she wished she had a asean team. Just them.

But Weiss seemed... off. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made Jaune tilt his head at her more than once. She was quieter, less smug. She wasn't looking around like she was waiting for someone to notice them, and there was a small, thoughtful frown on her lips as she stirred her tea, "You okay?" Jaune finally asked between bites of his pancakes.

Weiss blinked and looked up at him as if startled, then quickly schooled her features into something more composed, "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

Jaune gave her a flat look, "Because you're quiet."

Weiss scoffed, lifting her teacup to take a delicate sip, "I am perfectly capable of enjoying a moment of silence, Jaune."

He smirked, leaning his cheek against his palm, "Since when?"

Weiss narrowed her eyes, but there was no real heat to it, "Don't be a brat." Jaune grinned. He couldn't even imagine sharing a casual conversation like this with the Weiss back home. Even Ruby struggled to make her smile, and she was sunshine incarnate. And now here they were, chatting like a normal couple in a cafe. No one even looked twice at Weiss. It was like they didn't her as a Huntress as soon as the cringy flirting stopped.

Jaune chuckled, "Seriously, though." He nudged her foot under the table, "You've been acting different since we got here."

Weiss hesitated, setting her teacup down and looking out the window again. For a moment, she didn't say anything. Then, after a long pause, she let out a breath and murmured, "This is... nice."

Jaune raised a brow, "What? Breakfast?"

She gave him a deadpan look, "This." She gestured vaguely between them, "Just... us. Without the noise." Her fingers curled against the edge of her plate, "I didn't realize how loud things have been since I met you."

Jaune tilted his head, watching her carefully. She wasn't wrong. Their relationship - if he could call it that - had been anything but quiet. It'd been loud, messy, chaotic. It 'd been Weiss shouting to the world that he was hers, Weiss teasing Blake and Yang, Weiss dragging him into empty rooms when she got too needy and having him fuck her against Goodwitch's desk. But here? There was no audience, no competition, no need to constantly reinforce her claim.

It was just them.

Jaune squeezed her hand, smiling, "Yeah," he admitted, "It's nice."

Weiss blinked, her expression softening just a little before she huffed and turned her nose up, "Well, of course it is. You're out on a date with me, after all."

Jaune snorted. There's the Weiss he know. At this point, he'd known her just as long as the Weiss from back home. He wondered if she would've been similar if they ended up dating...

After breakfast, they wandered Vale for a bit, stopping by a few small shops along the way. Weiss took her time browsing, occasionally pausing to inspect a piece of jewelry or a dress that caught her eye, but she never bought anything. Jaune had expected her to drag him into the most expensive boutiques in town, but she didn't. Instead, she seemed content just... walking.

When they finally settled on a movie, Jaune was the one who picked it. It was a simple action flick, one of those big-budget, explosion-heavy types that was more about cool fight scenes than actual plot. Weiss had raised a brow but said nothing, and to his surprise, she actually enjoyed it. She even gasped at some of the more intense fight scenes, gripping his arm slightly whenever a particularly well-done stunt played out on screen. Jaune caught her muttering under her breath about the 'horrible combat form' of some of the characters, but she seemed to be having fun.

And Jaune? He was loving this. Not just the movie, but this. Weiss, outside of Beacon without looking to get laid. Weiss, without bragging in front of an audience. Weiss, without the constant competition and theatrics. For the first time since this whole crazy world sucked him in, he felt like he was actually getting to know her.

Their final stop was the park. The sun was beginning to set by then, casting golden light through the trees as they strolled along the cobblestone path. The air was cool, and a few couples walked past them, holding hands or sitting on benches, lost in quiet conversations. Jaune, still half-expecting Weiss to be clinging to his arm like usual, was surprised when she simply laced her fingers with his instead. No possessive grip, no smug gloating.

Just a simple, warm touch.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while before Weiss finally spoke, "Thank you, Jaune."

Jaune looked at her, confused, "For what?"

She hesitated, then gave him a small smile, "For today."

Jaune felt his heart do something weird in his chest. He grinned, squeezing her hand, "Well, I am the best boyfriend ever." And it wasn't just cause he was the only man with Aura.

Weiss rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed, "Humble as ever." He laughed, looking up at the sky. Yeah. This was a good idea.

[line break]

The restaurant was fancy. Like, stupidly fancy. The kind of place Jaune would have never even considered stepping into back home, both because of the price and because he was pretty sure the dress code required more than a hoodie and jeans. Weiss, however, had insisted. It was her turn to treat him, she'd said. He'd already planned their date and paid for breakfast and the movie tickers, so it was only fair that she picked up the tab for dinner.

Jaune wasn't going to argue with free food.

The trouble started at the entrance. The moment they stepped inside, they were met with the disapproving stare of a very stiff-looking maître d', a middle-aged man with an upturned nose who clearly thought they were a couple of kids who wandered in by mistake. His eyes flicked over Jaune's button-down and slacks - nice, but nowhere near fancy enough for this place - and then at Weiss' sundress, before he cleared his throat.

"I'm terribly sorry, but we are at full capacity for the evening," the maître d' said smoothly, a practiced, polite way of saying Get lost, you don't belong here, plebs. Jaune felt his shoulders sag. Yeah, he kind of saw that one coming. They probably should've gone to a more casual place, but Weiss had been so excited, and-

Weiss sniffed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a card so platinum it practically glowed, "Is something wrong with my card?" she asked, smiling ever so sweetly.

The maître d's entire demeanor changed in an instant. His posture straightened, his eyes widened, and then - snap - he clapped his hands, and suddenly a waiter appeared from nowhere to escort them inside, "Of course, Miss Schnee," the maître d' said, his voice smooth as silk, "My deepest apologies for the misunderstanding. Right this way, please."

Jaune barely had time to process what just happened before he was being led through the restaurant and seated at a private table near the back, away from the main crowd, with a perfect view of the city lights through a massive glass window. The tablecloth was pristine, the silverware polished to a mirror shine, and the candle in the center flickered softly, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

Weiss sat across from him, looking incredibly pleased with herself. Jaune laughed, shaking his head, "You were hoping he'd try to reject us first, admit it."

Weiss sniffed, delicately setting her napkin in her lap, "It's not my fault people assume things about me just because I'm young. If they're going to judge, I might as well make use of the privileges my name affords me."

Hard to argue with that.

A waiter arrived to take their order. The menu didn't even have prices, because if you had to ask, then you couldn't afford it. Weiss decided to order for the both of them. It was some kind of expensive-sounding dish with words Jaune definitely didn't recognize. He just nodded along and hoped it wasn't something weird.

Once the waiter left, Jaune leaned back in his chair, finally relaxing. The date had been good. Really good. He still wasn't totally sure what to make of Weiss acting so... normal today, but he wasn't going to question it. They'd had a nice time at the cafe, she actually laughed at his dumb jokes during the movie, and the walk in the park had been pleasant instead of full of her usual bragging even when they passed by a couple of Huntresses on the prowl. Maybe she was starting to chill out.

"So, Jaune," Weiss said, her voice as casual as could be, "How many children do you want?"

Jaune choked. Not on his food, because it hadn't arrived yet, but on his drink, which he immediately coughed all over the table, "What?!"

Weiss tilted her head, looking genuinely curious, "Children. Offspring. The next generation of our illustrious line."

Jaune wiped his mouth, staring at her like she'd just sprouted a second head, "Weiss, we just started dating a week ago!"

Weiss huffed, resting her chin on her hand right hand, "Jaune, please. As if that's an issue. I know you're the one. You know you're the one. Why not start thinking about the future?" She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it wasn't even something to be questioned.

Jaune opened his mouth, then closed it again, because what the hell was he supposed to say to that? Weiss sighed dramatically, swirling the wine glass she'd ordered (because apparently they could drink here, since nobody was checking IDs), "I was thinking four."

Jaune blinked, "Four what?"

"Children, Jaune. Obviously." Jaune nearly choked again. Weiss rolled her eyes, "Honestly, I'd like five, but I suppose I could settle for four. Three would be my absolute minimum. And two?" She made a face like she'd just bitten into something sour, "Absolutely not. A proper family needs at least three children. Two girls and a boy. That way, we'll have a proper balance. The firstborn will inherit my beauty and elegance, the secondborn will inherit your strength-"

"I'm not that strong."

"-and the third will be a wildcard."

Jaune ran a hand down his face, groaning, "Weiss."

"What?" she asked innocently, "It's a reasonable discussion." Jaune gave her a look. She fluttered her lashes at him, "What? Are you saying you don't want to spend the rest of your life with me, Jaune?"

Jaune was about to respond when she hit him with them. The puppy dog eyes. Not just any puppy dog eyes. The most conniving, most carefully calculated, Schnee-patented, platinum-tier weaponized puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. Her lips trembled, her hands clasped together as if she were the very picture of a demure, longing maiden. She was the very picture of innocence, a fairy tale princess come to life and waiting for her prince to sweep her off her feet.

Somehow, she almost managed to fool him even though the last time he gave her that look, it was when she was on her knees with his cock between her lips.

Jaune's heart lurched in his chest. That wasn't fair. That wasn't fair. He groaned, slumping back in his chair, "I hate how good you are at that."

Weiss beamed, "I know."

He shook his head. No, don't get distracted, he told himself. Jaune was just about to suggest very reasonably that maybe, just maybe, they could postpone the discussion about their hypothetical future children until, oh, just a few years down the line. Maybe after he figured out what the hell was going on with his entire existence and how he ended up in a world where he was the only guy with Aura.

But before he could get the words out, he felt something soft trailing up his left leg.

Jaune's breath hitched and his eyes flickered downward just in time to see Weiss, seated so elegantly across from him, sliding her bare foot up the side of his calf, the fabric of his slacks doing absolutely nothing to dull the sensation. He couldn't actually see her doing it, of course - the table cloth was in the way - but it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. Her toes trailed up, and he felt soft, warm skin dig under the cuff of his pants leg to touch the skin directly.

His whole body tensed, heat creeping up his neck, but when he looked back up at her, she just gazed at him with that same sweet, innocent expression, as if she wasn't blatantly teasing him under the table, "We've had such a wonderful day, haven't we, darling?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her voice sweet and saccharine.

Jaune swallowed thickly, "Uh... y-yeah?"

Her foot moved higher. Jaune squirmed in his seat, "But, you know," Weiss continued airily, tracing lazy circles against his thigh, completely ignoring how stiffly he was sitting now. The only thing adding any sort of protection was the dark fabric between their skin, "I've been thinking." Jaune's entire focus was now locked onto that foot. He had no idea where she was going with this, but he really needed to get a handle on himself, "Clearly, I've been rather immature about things," Weiss mused, her lips curling into a faint smile, "Clinging to you all the time, flaunting my victory so blatantly... it's unbecoming of a proper lady. No, if I truly want to be a mature woman, then I should act the part."

Jaune barely processed her words, too focused on how her foot was definitely getting dangerously close to somewhere very inappropriate, "M-Mature?" he echoed dumbly, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

Weiss nodded sagely, her hand resting under her chin as if she were making a perfectly logical and reasonable statement, rather than slowly driving him insane, "Yes. Mature. As your partner, it's my responsibility to be gracious. To share." She flashed him a very self-satisfied look, "Which is why I've decided to allow you to sleep with Blake and Yang."

Jaune's brain short-circuited, his mouth barely able to form the words, "You're... what?"

"You heard me," Weiss said primly, her foot giving one last teasing drag along his thigh before pulling away. His body, traitor that it was, missed the sensation and he almost scooted forward to catch her retreating sole, "They're so desperate, Jaune. It's honestly pathetic to watch." She sighed and shook her head, but her lips were curled up in a smile she couldn't quite hide, "And as your partner, I suppose it would be selfish to deny you a little fun."

Jaune stared at her, mouth slightly open, his brain struggling to reboot. Weiss? Sharing? Willingly? The same Weiss who rubbed her victory in Blake and Yang's faces every single day and preened about having something they never would? The same Weiss who wouldn't shut up about how she was the only one lucky enough to experience the Jaune Arc Experience™?

It was so out of left field that Jaune almost thought he misheard her. Almost. His hands curled into fists on his lap, desperately trying to keep himself grounded. Because, objectively, he knew this was some kind of power move. Some underhanded play to rub it in their faces even more.

But also...

His brain, against his better judgement, immediately painted very vivid mental images of Yang and Blake in the same state he'd seen Weiss in countless times. He'd seen the catgirl already, but Yang? Back home, she was considered the hottest of the first years. Pyrrha might've matched her in the looks department, but the other blonde had a charisma to her that drew the students like a moth to a flame. The confidence, her hair...those tits. And now Weiss was saying she wanted him to sleep with them?

His heartbeat spiked. His pants got a little too tight.

Weiss noticed and smiled. She knew she won, "But obviously," she added, lifting her wine glass to her lips as if this was just casual dinner conversation and not a complete mental breakdown for Jaune, "I'll be the head wife. The main one. They can be your mistresses - properly beneath me in every way. And of course, I expect that I'll be your priority. If the choice comes between me and them, it'll always be me. Even if they're on their backs with their legs spready begging you to breed them."

Jaune opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His brain was screaming at him to say something, to remind her that they weren't even old enough to drink and that marriage was still way too early to think about and that this entire conversation was ridiculous.

But instead, what actually came out was a strangled, "...Mistresses?"

Weiss just smiled and sipped her wine, "Of course. A man as great as you deserves a harem, after all." Jaune died. Right there. On the spot. Just flatlined. Because, logically, he knew this was not a good idea. He knew Weiss was playing with him, pushing his buttons, testing him to see how much power she really had over him and the rest of the team.

But his brain and his hormones were very much not on speaking terms at the moment. That word - harem - had sent his monkey brain into overdrive, beating logic and reason into a bloody pulp. It was the dream of every young guy. A harem. No, not just a harem. A harem of Huntresses. He could already imagine the bitter, jealous looks of the guys back home. Jaune Arc, the lanky kid who defined Average, had managed to snag three of the hottest Huntresses in Vale.

So instead of calling her out on it, instead of shutting it down like he probably should have-

Jaune swallowed hard, his mind completely blank, and gave a stiff nod.

Weiss beamed, "Perfect~" She set the glass down, right index finger playing with the rim, "We'll give them the good news tomorrow. But tonight?" Her foot crept up his leg again, "Tonight, I want you all to myself."

[line break]

Man, Jaune is just living that harem ideal. All he had to do was lose his family, possibly forever. The sex will keep him distracted. Anyway, no smut this chapter, but next one will have Yang. None for Ruby. Per people's responses, she'll stay sane.

Team Rizzless - Volume 1 Jaune Omake, Part 2

Putting this out quick. Sister's birthday is coming soon and we're leaving for a hotel for a couple days, so I wanted to hack something out before then.

[line break]

Jaune had never felt this exhausted in his entire life. It wasn't just a matter of being physically tired - by the Brothers, his legs felt like they were made of lead and his arms weren't much better - it was the kind of exhaustion that settled into his very soul. Like something fundamental inside him had been drained dry, wrung out, and then trampled for good measure. Emphasis on the drained part. Jaune Junior never felt so empty in his life.

And yet, despite all that, he couldn't bring himself to complain. Not too much, anyway.

Because the reason for his current half-dead state? Weiss Schnee.

It wasn't every day that the girl of his dreams suddenly turned around, swept him off his feet, and took him to multiple rounds of what could only be described as the most enthusiastic show of affection he'd ever experienced. He'd spent weeks chasing after Weiss at Beacon, fumbling through flirts and compliments, desperately trying to prove he was worthy of a chance. And every single time, she'd scoff, turn her head away, or make some snappy comment that made him feel a foot tall.

But now? Now she was practically glued to his side, pulling him along like she owned him. Her usual cold, refined exterior was replaced with a victorious glow that made her look like she'd just won the lottery. She practically skipped down the Bullhead ramp, humming to herself, her pristine white dress flowing behind her as she half-dragged him toward the academy. She was in a fantastic mood. Beaming, smug, every step radiating triumph.

Jaune, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

His legs were wobbly, and every muscle in his body ached with a dull, throbbing exhaustion that even Aura couldn't seem to fix. He could barely walk straight, let alone keep up with Weiss as she dragged him forward with surprising strength. Every time he tried to slow down even slightly her grip tightened, yanking him forward like he was a particularly stubborn dog on a leash.

Jaune let out a strained groan, his feet barely keeping up, "Weiss," he muttered, his voice coming out a little rough, "Please slow down...my legs feel like jelly."

Weiss scoffed, barely sparing him a glance, "Jelly, Jaune? Really?" She rolled her eyes, though her smirk didn't waver, "Men are always so dramatic."

"Men?" Jaune blinked, his brain still sluggish, "Weiss, I'm exhausted." He winced as his knee nearly buckled from the sheer effort of walking, "I think my body's breaking down."

Weiss huffed in exasperation, shaking her head as if he was the ridiculous one here, "Oh, come now, Jaune. You should be honored!"

Jaune let out a breathless chuckle, "Honored to be on the verge of collapse?" He couldn't exactly deny that. He'd slept with Weiss. He didn't really care about her money or her family name, but he knew for the fact that most guys his age would've been over the moon.

"Honored to be part of history!" Weiss declared, spinning on her heel to face him while still somehow walking backward with complete confidence. She gestured dramatically to herself, "Do you have any idea how lucky you are? You - Jaune Arc - are officially the first man in Remnant to bond with a Huntress! And not just any Huntress, but me!" She placed a hand on her chest proudly, "It's a historic moment!" Jaune raised a brow. The only guy to ever sleep with a Huntress? Somehow, he doubted that.

Jaune blinked at her, trying to process what she was saying through the exhausted haze in his brain. He was still wrapping his head around everything that had happened. His entire life had been flipped upside down in the span of a single night - no, several nights. Not only had Weiss returned his affections, but she'd done it in a way that was so enthusiastic that he'd been barely able to keep up. And that wasn't even getting into the whole 'only guy with Aura' thing, which he was definitely still trying to wrap his head around.

He scratched the back of his head, grimacing slightly as he forced himself to stand a little straighter. His pride wouldn't let him look too weak in front of Weiss, "Yeah, uh...not gonna lie, Weiss, I think I missed the part where this became a historical event."

Weiss gasped, looking genuinely offended, "Missed the part?! Jaune, do you understand what this means? For centuries, men have been off-limits to Huntresses! Completely untouchable! And yet, you - the first man with Aura - chose me!" Her grin was radiant, "Everyone is going to be so jealous!"

Jaune gave her a tired smile, still trying to make sense of it all, "Chose you, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "I mean, I always liked you, so...yeah. Guess I did."

Weiss beamed, looking obnoxiously satisfied with herself, "Of course you did! I could tell just by the lust in your eyes when we meet at that park!" He was about to rebuke the 'lust' part when she suddenly yanked him forward again, clearly unbothered by the fact that his legs barely seemed to function.

He let out another sigh, shaking his head, "You know," he said, forcing a chuckle, "I probably shouldn't be this tired. I mean, Aura's supposed to help with stamina, right?"

Weiss waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, nonsense. You're fine."

"I'm not fine," Jaune countered, "I ascended last night, Weiss! I saw visions! My ancestors judged me!" Granted, most of them were giving him a thumbs up and going 'Nice', but still! He was too young to meet Lysander Arc!

Weiss laughed her delight only making her walk faster, "Jaune, don't be so dramatic! Besides, I did most of the work."

He gave her an incredulous look, "That doesn't make me feel better!" She only giggled again, clearly in too good of a mood to care. Jaune sighed, letting himself be dragged forward. He was too tired to argue, and honestly? Even though his body felt like it had been wrung out like an old dishrag, he couldn't help but feel...a little good about it all. Because at the end of the day, he'd finally done it: Weiss was finally interested in him.

Now all he had to do was become a legendary Huntsman and his life was pretty much complete.

Weiss continued to drag him. Not to the dorms, but to the dining hall where everyone was having breakfast. She kicked open the doors with enough force to make the wood groan. The loud bang echoed through the vast space, causing dozens of conversations to halt mid-sentence. The sudden silence was deafening, and Jaune, still exhausted and running on nothing but instinct, felt every eye in the room turn toward them.

His mind was still sluggish, but even through the lingering haze of exhaustion, he noticed something immediately.

No guys. Not a single one. There were only women in the room. Weiss had said as much before, but now that he actually saw it, it was kind of jarring. Sure, Beacon had a lot of female students, but where were the guys? He'd been expecting at least some fellow Huntsmen sitting around - Ren or even that jerk Cardin - but instead, every single face turned his way was female. Even team JNPR's usual table only had Pyrrha and Nora.

And then he stopped thinking about that altogether because Weiss suddenly tightened her grip around his right arm, practically wrapping herself around it, her expression a perfect picture of smug tilted her chin up, beaming, and loudly declared, "Attention, everyone! I have an announcement!"

Jaune blinked, "Wait, Weiss-"

"I, Weiss Schnee, have officially lost my virginity!" Jaune choked. The dining hall, which had already been quiet from the dramatic entrance, went absolutely silent. His stomach dropped. His soul left his body. He was pretty sure he just suffered cardiac arrest. It felt like time itself stopped as dozens upon dozens of Huntresses turned toward them, processing Weiss' words. Some blinked in confusion, others scowled as if trying to determine whether or not she was just bullshitting for attention, and more than a few looked outright annoyed.

Weiss, of course, preened under the attention like a cat that had just dragged in the biggest prize mouse in existence, "And!" she continued, tightening her grip around Jaune's arm to ensure he couldn't escape, "Not only that, but my partner for this historic moment was none other than Jaune Arc!" The name didn't mean anything to them, but Weiss continued on without a care, "And not only that!He has Aura!"

That actually got a reaction. The dining hall erupted into chaos. Some women scoffed immediately, rolling their eyes as if Weiss was just spewing nonsense, "Yeah, right," one of them muttered, waving a hand dismissively, "Nice joke, Princess."

A second Huntress leaned forward on her elbows, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "A guy with Aura? Doubt it. Just because you finally got laid doesn't mean you have to make up stupid rumors, Schnee.

"I doubt she even got any. Probably just some actor she hired," A third Huntress added.

Some of them, however, weren't as quick to dismiss it.

"Wait," a woman at the far end of the hall muttered, brow furrowed, "She's serious?"

A different girl at a nearby table shot to her feet, "You're kidding me, right?" Her voice was laced with irritation, "First you get laid, and now you're saying you got the only guy with Aura?" Several heads turned toward Jaune, and for the first time, he felt like prey. Actual prey. The sheer intensity of the stares sent a chill down his spine. Some of them looked curious. Others looked skeptical. And more than a few were eyeing him with a mixture of frustration and something else he couldn't quite place.

Jaune swallowed thickly. Weiss, completely oblivious to his growing embarassment, just smirked, tightening her grip and practically glowing with satisfaction. She lifted her chin high, her entire expression radiating absolute, undisputed victory.

Her message was clear: I won. Suck it, losers.

He barely had a moment to process the sheer chaos unfolding in the dining hall before Weiss turned back to him, a triumphant gleam in her ice-blue eyes. She tapped her chin as if considering something, then snapped her fingers, "Jaune, dear," she said sweetly - too sweetly, like a predator setting up bait, "Since these peasants doubt my word, why don't you prove it to them?"

Jaune blinked at her, "Prove it?"

Weiss smirked and gestured toward the nearest long dining table, one of the heavy wooden ones that stretched across the hall, built to withstand a room full of rowdy Huntresses. It was completely bare. No plates, utensils, nothing, "Lift one of the tables."

Jaune furrowed his brows, looking between her and the expectant eyes of the surrounding Huntresses. The professors too - who he just now realized were also all women - were leaning forward in their seats, clearly interested in the outcome.

Every instinct told him not to humor this. His common sense, what little he had left after everything, was screaming at him to sit down and eat his damn breakfast like a normal person. But the moment he looked at Weiss - who was very clearly expecting him to go along with it - and the hungry, scrutinizing stares of the rest of the hall, he realized he wasn't getting out of this.

Jaune let out a breath. Fine. Whatever.

He stepped toward the unoccupied table, rolling his shoulders as he positioned himself at the center. It was big - definitely not something a normal person could lift without some serious muscle. But he wasn't normal. He had Aura. It wasn't a lot yet, but it was enough.

He crouched down, planted his feet, and gripped the edges. Then, with a grunt, he lifted.

For a moment, he thought he might have overestimated himself - the sheer weight of the thing was more than he expected, and its size made it awkward to handle - but then his Aura kicked in, reinforcing his muscles, and the table rose off the ground.

A collective gasp rippled through the hall.

He managed to lift it carefully over his head and kept it there for a few seconds. A part of him was almost tempted to throw it somewhere and beat his chest like a big angry green man. Instead, he carefully lowered it back down as best he could. No one said a word as the table was set back in place and Jaune shook his lightly aching arms. His body was still sore from the night before (and the hours after that), but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Silence. It was so heavy that he almost choked on it. And then...

The dining hall exploded.

The roar of voices was so deafening that Jaune physically flinched. It was like a dam had broken - every Huntress in the room surged forward at once, bombarding him from all sides.

"Oh my Sisters."

"He's real!"

"A man with aura?! Impossible!"

"It's true! He really has it!"

"He's so strong!"

Huntresses-in-training leapt from their seats, knocking over chairs in their excitement. The sound of scroll cameras snapping pictures filled the air. Others swarmed closer, their eyes hungry and their grins manic.

"What's your number?!"

"Do you have a girlfriend?!"

"No, no, forget that! What about multiple girlfriends?!"

"I'm free tonight! And tomorrow! And the day after that!"

"So, uh, how do you feel about public sex?! Asking for a friend!"

"DIBS! I CALL DIBS!"

Jaune staggered back, overwhelmed by the sheer wave of thirsty Huntresses practically lunging at him. He barely had time to register what was happening before hands started reaching for him, grasping at his arms, his shoulders, even his hair. Despite the rising panic, he couldn't deny that a part of him was really into this. What healthy young man didn't like the idea of being wanted by the hottest, strongest women on Remnant?

...But, they were pawing at his hoodie like cats in heat, and that made him kinda worry, "Weiss...?" he asked, looking to her expectantly. Weiss, to his absolute lack of surprise, was grinning. Not just a smirk, not just an amused chuckle, but a full-on, cat-that-caught-the-canary, smug-as-hell grin.

He had a bad feeling about this.

More voices shouted over each other, bombarding him with questions.

"What's your semblance?!"

"How much stamina do you have?!"

"Have you ever considered a poly relationship?!"

"Would you be willing to father my children?!"

And then, just as it seemed like he was about to be dragged away to the nearest empty classroom, Weiss stepped forward, her heels clicking against the tiled floor, and shouted.

"Enough!"

The force of her voice boomed through the hall, a commanding presence that somehow managed to cut through the chaotic frenzy. The room froze. Huntresses, students and professors alike, all turned toward her. Weiss flicked her hair back, her smirk widening as she very deliberately tightened her grip around Jaune's arm, pulling herself flush against him, "You barbarians have no shame," she scoffed, her voice dripping with condescension, "Did you really think I'd let you touch what's mine?"

"You still haven't clarified what that means exactly."

Weiss ignored him completely. She turned her sharp, victorious gaze to the rest of the hall, her smile radiating smug satisfaction, "Jaune Arc belongs to me," she declared, loudly and proudly, "I was the first to claim him, and I will be the only one to keep him! So Back. Off."

A collective groan of disappointment and rage rippled through the hall.

"What?!"

"Not fair!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST CALL DIBS!"

"You selfish BITCH!"

"WHY DO YOU GET HIM?!"

"HE'S A FREE MAN!"

Weiss smirked, smug and victorious, "Oh, but he isn't free." She turned to Jaune and latched onto him again, pulling herself flush against his side, her arms clamped around his waist like a vice, "After all," she purred, voice full of saccharine smugness, "He chose me. He came to me with lust in his eyes and a desire to slake them." The Huntresses gasped. He didn't even bother to point out that she was exageratting, "That's right. He initiated it!" She announced that fact like it was some unknowable truth. And the Huntresses all gasped in wide-eyed shock like it was.

Jaune groaned, "I'm so confused."

Weiss' eyes glowed with satisfaction, "We've already bonded," she announced grandly, "He's mine, now and forever!"

And just like that, the dining hall exploded again, this time in angry, jealous screams. Jaune had never felt more torn in his life. This was literally his nighttime fantasies come to life, but something about it all felt...off. Where were the guys? No students, no professors. Even Headmaster Ozpin was missing.

He didn't get a chance to wonder for long before a sharp voice cut through the chaos like a whip crack.

"Enough."

The single word carried such sheer authority that it sent an involuntary shiver down Jaune's spine. The cacophony of Huntresses immediately fell silent, their protests and jealous wailing dying in their throats as all eyes turned toward the source of the command.

Glynda Goodwitch stood at the entrance to the dining hall, her posture rigid, her arms crossed, and her expression a mask of absolute authority. Her piercing green eyes scanned the room with the look of a woman who was absolutely not in the mood for nonsense. Even the most rebellious Huntresses instinctively took a step back under her gaze. Jaune swallowed. He'd never interacted much with Beacon's strictest professor, but even he knew that when Glynda Goodwitch spoke, people listened.

"You," she continued, voice sharp and unyielding, "Are all dismissed."

The uproar returned immediately.

"What?!"

"No fair!"

"But we just found him!"

"You can't hoard him for yourself!"

"Can't we at least look at him while you talk?!"

Jaune winced as the shouting resumed, a sea of furious Huntresses all glaring at Glynda with the kind of burning resentment he usually associated with bitter enemies in action movies. Glynda, however, didn't even flinch. Her eyes narrowed, and she took a single, measured step forward.

It was like watching a wild pack of dogs suddenly realize they were about to get muzzled. The temperature in the room dropped. The air grew heavier. A single vein on her temple twitched, "Out." The word wasn't shouted. It wasn't even particularly loud. But it carried weight. A crushing, absolute weight that made even the boldest Huntress in the room shrink back like a scolded child. One by one, they all backed away, begrudgingly filing toward the exit with all the enthusiasm of children forced to leave recess. Even the Professors went along, looking just as put-off as the students.

"This isn't over," one muttered.

"I'm watching you, Schnee," another added with a glare.

"I swear to the Sisters above, if I hear any noises from your room tonight-"

"OUT!" Glynda repeated, finally raising her voice, and the last of them practically tripped over themselves in their haste to leave.

Jaune exhaled slowly as the doors shut, leaving him alone with Glynda, Weiss, and-

Wait. Team RWBY was still here.

Weiss, of course, hadn't moved an inch. She still clung to his arm like a woman who had found a priceless relic and was not willing to let it out of her sight. Jaune had half-expected that. What surprised him was the fact that Yang, Blake, and Ruby hadn't budged either. Glynda let out a breath, adjusting her glasses before giving them a pointed look, "That means you as well, ladies."

"Nope," Yang said immediately, crossing her arms, her golden locks shifting over her shoulder as she leaned casually against the table, "We're staying."

"Not happening," Blake added, her amber eyes flickering toward Jaune in a way that made his stomach twist. Her voice was calm, even indifferent, but there was something...off about the way she was watching him. Not quite as bad as the others, but still. It was weird. He talked to Yang before (he did puke on her boots on the way to Beacon), but Blake? He was pretty sure she didn't even know his name. The one time she had to tell him something, she literally said 'Hey, you'.

Weiss huffed, lifting her chin, "I'm keeping an eye on my lover." Jaune couldn't help a dorky little smile at that.

Glynda sighed heavily, rubbing her temples as though already feeling a migraine coming on, "You four are hardly qualified to be part of this discussion."

"Excuse you," Yang shot back, an easy grin on her face, "Weiss is our teammate. That means we gotta keep an eye on her, especially when she's being all possessive and crazy. Right, Blake?"

Blake, openly staring at his torso, hummed in agreement, "Mhm."

Weiss scoffed, giving them both an annoyed look, "Excuse me? Possessive? Crazy? I am simply defending my rightful claim! It's not my fault you two are jealous!"

Yang rolled her eyes, "Pfft, yeah, suuure. That's totally what's happening." She nudged Blake with her elbow, "Hey, how jealous are you?"

Blake blinked once, finally pulling her gaze away from Jaune, "...Deeply."

"That's not the point!" Glynda snapped before they could go further. Her eyes landed on the last holdout. Ruby, who, unlike the others, didn't seem particularly interested in Jaune at all. In fact, she was looking at him with a mix of worry and confusion.

"Ruby Rose," Glynda said, "Surely you at least understand why this isn't your business."

Ruby hesitated, shifting her weight, then shook her head, "No, I wanna stay too."

Glynda sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Why?"

"Because Weiss is my partner, and I wanna make sure she's not getting into something weird," Ruby said honestly, folding her arms. Her silver eyes flickered toward Jaune, full of concern rather than hunger, "And...I dunno. I just get this feeling like he needs help." Jaune blinked. That was...kind of nice, actually. It was the first time since waking up that a Huntress was talking to him without trying to pin him down. Made sense. He and Ruby were the closest between their teams.

Glynda looked at her for a long moment, then exhaled, clearly realizing that arguing with them was a lost cause, "Fine," she said at last, "But I want absolute silence while we talk." Yang and Blake both made so-so motions with their hands. Weiss scoffed like the idea of her not inserting herself into the conversation was absurd. Ruby just nodded.

Glynda turned her gaze back to Jaune, sharp and analytical, as if she were staring at a strange new creature rather than a student, "Now then," she said, the very picture of professionalism. Despite that, he didn't miss the way her eyes looked him up and down and how she quickly licked her lips, "Let's start from the beginning. How exactly did a man acquire Aura?"

[line break]

Jaune stared up at the ceiling, his mind swimming with too many thoughts to process all at once. The past few hours had been...a lot. No, that was underselling it. It had been a complete, reality-shattering, brain-melting, what-the-actual-hell kind of day.

Everything he thought he knew about the world had been tossed into a blender and pureed into nonsense. He'd sat through an incredibly uncomfortable conversation with Glynda Goodwitch and the ever-present, ever-clingy Weiss, trying to wrap his head around what he'd learned. And what he'd learned was not comforting.

Men didn't have Aura. Not just "rarely" or "historically suppressed". No, they never had it. According to Glynda, there was no record of a single man ever unlocking Aura, much less training to be a Huntsman. She had questioned him relentlessly, digging for any possible explanation, but when it became clear that he really did have Aura and was not a Huntress in disguise, she'd just sat back in her chair, frowning so deeply Jaune thought her face might get stuck like that.

Then came the next bombshell: there was no Jaune Arc enrolled in Beacon Academy. No record, no file, no name in the system. And it wasn't just him. No Lie Ren, no Cardin Winchester, not a single male student had ever been admitted in any of the academies across Remnant. The closest thing was Yang's bitter remark that Ren was Nora's civilian childhood friend that the ginger-haired Valkyrie was dating, which only left Jaune even more confused. He thought they weren't together-together.

Had he...dreamed it? The past seventeen years of his life? That was impossible. He remembered everything. His sisters, his parents, his hometown, the nights he spent practicing with Crocea Mors in the backyard, his awkward first days at Beacon, getting stuck in a tree during initiation. That happened. He lived it. There was no way it was all

Did that mean he was in another world? Some kind of parallel dimension? Or...what?

And yet, for all the existential horror that he should've been feeling at the realization that he was stranded in some twisted version of Remnant where Huntresses were all cringe and desperate, Jaune was finding it very difficult to focus.

Mostly because Weiss, affectionate and needy, was curled up against his side, very much naked.

It was really distracting.

Jaune exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling as he tried not to dwell too much on the way her bare skin felt against his own. His right arm was currently trapped under her, acting as her personal pillow, while she draped one leg over his like she was making sure he couldn't go anywhere. Her soft, slow breathing tickled his chest, her body completely relaxed against him in a way that made his brain short-circuit every time he thought about it for too long.

Her delicate fingers traced absentminded patterns over his chest, and he could feel every touch, every little shift of her body as she snuggled closer. Her legs tangled with his, trapping him against the soft sheets of the oversized bed. Weiss had demanded a personal room to herself and him since she didn't like the idea of him sleeping in team RWBY's dorm room. Goodwitch had tried to refuse at first, but then she said that a quick call to her dad would give him second thoughts about those Dust donations for the upcoming Vytal tournament. Glynda grit her teeth and gave them a teacher's room that hadn't been assigned yet.

He should have been panicking about everything else. He should have been trying to make sense of how he got here, why the world was so different, what the hell he was going to do next. But no, his brain had entirely different priorities at the moment.

Mainly, Holy crap, Weiss was naked and clinging to him like a needy kitten.

He swallowed thickly, trying to keep himself from freaking out. It wasn't like he regretted anything - far from it. A part of him wanted to scream in joy abd fist-pump the air at the fact that Weiss had not only fallen for him but was treating him like her personal teddy bear. And yet, as much as he wanted to be over the moon about it, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

She wasn't his Weiss. It was a Weiss, yeah, but not the one he'd spent weeks pining after back at Beacon. That Weiss had been cold, distant, and frustratingly dismissive of him at every turn. This one was...clingy. Possessive. Obsessive, even.

And she wasn't alone. Every Huntress he'd met so far had been weird. The girls back at the dining hall? Thirsty as hell. The way they all screamed in frustration when Weiss declared him hers was honestly terrifying. Even Glynda had spent half their conversation stealing weird little glances at him, like she was sizing him up for something entirely unprofessional.

So what, another part of him whispered. Who cared if she wasn't his Weiss? He only knew her for a week and she'd spent all that time barely paying him any attention. The same could be said for everyone else. Sure, he was friends with Ruby, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren, but he only knew them for a week too. Hardly long enough to make an everlasting bond of friendship. It wasn't like he knew them for years or even months. It was literally seven days.

But what about his family, another part of him - the one that didn't think with his other head - whispered. His sisters, Mom, Dad, little Adrien who'd just been born a couple of weeks back. Sure, sex with a clingy, needy Weiss was awesome, but he still had a family to worry about. Just because he ran away from home didn't mean he wasn't planning to see them again! He'd already imagined coming back home after making it as a Huntsman.

Jaune exhaled again, staring at the ceiling as if the answers would just magically appear. If this really was another world - another dimension or timeline or something - then he had to figure out how he got here and what to do with himself.

But right now? Right now, he was too dang tired to think. His Aura was still sluggish from overuse, his body felt like it had been wrung dry, and Weiss' soft warmth against him was really not helping his ability to concentrate.

Weiss hummed softly against him, breaking his train of thought. He felt her shift, pressing herself closer, her lips brushing against his collarbone, "You're thinking too much," she murmured, voice husky with satisfaction. And why wouldn't she be? They'd been going at it since she locked the door hours ago, "Stop that."

Jaune let out a weak laugh, "Kinda hard not to."

Her arms tightened around him possessively, "Don't."

Jaune hesitated, his fingers lightly ghosting over the curve of her back. He wanted to say something, to voice the swirling confusion in his head, but...what was the point? Would she even believe him if he told her? That he wasn't from here, that he remembered a completely different world where men did have Aura and where she didn't look at him like he was the most precious treasure in the world? She seemed to think he was just some sheltered village guy with dreams of heroism...which wasn't all that far-off from the truth, really.

He closed his eyes. Maybe some sleep would do him good.

[line break]

Jaune groaned softly as he stirred awake, his body still sluggish from exhaustion. He hadn't gotten more than a few hours of rest, but something heavy and warm was pressing down on his chest, stirring him from his much-needed sleep. His first thought, still hazy with drowsiness, was that Weiss decided she wanted another round. Not surprising, considering her very enthusiastic stamina. He could only hope that he'd get better with Aura and could keep up with her easier.

But as he blinked blearily and cracked his eyes open, his vision was immediately filled with a curtain of dark hair spilling over his chest like silk. His sluggish mind took a second to register what he was looking at. The strands shifted slightly, revealing a pair of dark, twitching cat ears on top of the head resting against him.

Jaune's brain screeched to a halt.

The head lifted, and he found himself locking eyes with none other than Blake Belladonna. Amber orbs stared up at him needily, her cheeks flushed as she pressed herself against his bare chest.

Jaune's first thought? 'Huh. Blake's a cat Faunus?'

His second thought? 'Oh my Brothers, she's wearing lingerie.'

His third? 'Oh my Brothers, she's wearing nothing BUT lingerie.'

Blake was sprawled on top of him, her body barely covered by an intricate set of black lace that clung to her curves in ways that were definitely intentional. The sheer material did nothing to hide the soft swell of her generous breasts, the curve of her waist, or the way her toned thighs pressed against his sides. His hands twitched at his sides, very aware of just how little space there was between them. He could feel her nipples pressing against his chest even through the dark material.

Then, to make matters worse, she opened her mouth and begged, "Jaune," she murmured, her voice soft, almost pleading, "Please...treat me the way you treat Weiss."

Jaune's brain officially shut down. His mouth opened and closed, trying to form words, but nothing coherent came out. The only thing running through his mind was sheer, unfiltered panic - and, if he was being honest, a lot of interest. Because wow, Blake was hot. He always thought that. While he didn't pursue her like he did Weiss, he would've been blind not to see it. Blake had a cool beauty about her, the kind that made people interested even at a glance. Sure, she didn't have Yang's vibrant looks or Ruby's sheer cuteness, but she definitely had her own admirers.

Before he could even think of a response, a soft chuckle made him freeze. He turned his head slightly, only to see Weiss sitting up beside him, watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk. She stretched lazily, completely at ease with the fact that Blake was half-naked and on top of her boyfriend.

Jaune had just enough time to process 'oh crap, Weiss is going to kill me' before she leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, "Hmm," she hummed, tapping her fingers against her cheek, "I suppose I could be generous and let you have your fun with her..." Her smirk widened, "But only if you agree and if she begs."

Jaune barely had time to blink before Blake's fingers curled into his chest.

"Please," she whispered, eyes desperate, "I need this."

Jaune gulped. He felt torn. On one hand, this was crazy. This was beyond crazy. He should be stopping this, asking Blake what the hell was going on, maybe trying to figure out why she was suddenly all over him in nothing but lace. On the other hand...his gaze flickered down to Blake's body again, trailing over the soft curves, the smooth skin, the way she was practically pressing herself against him-

Yeah. He was getting hard. Blake noticed immediately. Her breath hitched, her fingers gripping his chest tighter, her thighs squeezing around his waist.

Jaune groaned. Weiss smirked wider, "Not good enough," she purred, relishing every word, "I've heard you and Yang look down on me before. You calling me a priss and that the only thing I'd ever have inside me is the stick up my ass." He almost laughed. Really? "And now you want to have your fun with my boyfriend barely a day? I want some sincerity, Belladonna."

"Please!" Blake begged. It was more emotion than he'd ever seen from the reticent bookworm in the short time he knew her, "I...I need this, Weiss! You don't understand! He's not just a man! He's the only man in Remnant with Aura!" Her lips wobbled and she gave them both (ironcially) puppy dog eyes, "Please, Weiss! I'll do anything! Give anything! I...I'll take back everything I ever said about you! I'll kiss your feet! Anything!"

"Well now, I can definitely see the desperatio." She hummed and her head, watching his reaction like a cat watching a cornered mouse, "What's your decision, darling?"

Jaune exhaled. His cock was already at full attention.

...Yeah, okay. He was only human.

Jaune grabbed Blake by the shoulders and twisted her around till he was on top of her. The Cat Faunus (that was still kinda weird to think about) practically squaled when he did it. Meanwhile, Weiss pulled up a chair and sat at the right side of the bed, her smile chesire-like. He would've thought that she'd be against the idea considering how she staked her claim earlier, but now she couldn't have looked happier. She was practically beaming with joy as he got himself into position.

His eyes drinked in the sight of Blake again. She was different from Weiss. Her skin was a shade less pale but just as flawless without any scar or blemish. Her arms and legs were somewhat more corded with muscle, lean and only enhancing her femininity. Her stomach in particular was lined with a row of well-defined abs. Not as good as Yang's - which she showed off every time she wasn't in uniform - but enough to draw the eyes.

He preferred slender girls, sure, but muscular girls had their own appeal. He remembered being 16 and Saphron arguing with him about the appeal of muscle girls.

Jaune shook his head. No, don't think about his family now. Focus on the present.

He slowly raised his right hand, tracing his fingertips against her abs for a moment before dragging them to the edge of the silky black panties. Blake squirmed underneath him, moaning softly and looking up through half-lidded eyes. He almost wanted to drag it out, but his aching prick and Weiss' encouraging look made him impatient.

He grabbed the waistband of the underwear and pulled it down. Blake was already wet. Her pussy lips were soaked with her arousal and the sight of it made him groan. He had to resist the urge to reach down and lick her folds, "Well, what are you waiting for?" Weiss asked, "Give her what she wants."

Jaune lined up the head of his cock against her entrance. She squirmed even harder, hips thrusting up, desperate to get his dick inside her, "Fuck, Blake..." He grit his teeth and slowly slid inside her. Blake's huffing moans turned to loud, shameless ones. It only made him more determined to continue. The Blake he remembered from back home was quiet and dour, her voice always level and her expression schooled in that painfully neutral expression.

Now? Now, she was the exact opposite of controlled. Eyes hazy, mouth parted, and her chest rising and falling with every quick breath she took. His left hand moved automatically. He hooked his thumb against the right side of her mouth, pulling at the soft skin.

Blake didn't even hesitate. She sucked and bit at his skin, her tonge dancing across his fingertip. Fuck, why the hell was that so hot? He closed his eyes and slowly pulled himself back out. Blake wasn't as tight as Weiss, but it still felt like her walls were fighting him every step of the way; like they refused to let him go now that they had him. Jaune kept going until he was mostly out again. Blake bit into this thumb with needy desperation.

Back in.

Blake's hands gripped the sheets as he repeated the motion. In, out, in, out, "That's it, Jaune. Keep going," Weiss cooed. She got up from the chair and knelt behind him, gently holding his shoulders. She leaned closer and whispered, "You're a stud, Jaune. Look at her. Just a few minutes with your cock and she's completely helpless." He could practically see Weiss' satisfied grin.

Jaune moaned. Something about Weiss whispering dirty words in his ear really got him going.

"But don't forget: you're mine. Blake's just a toy. Isn't that right?" Neither he or Blake said anything. Weiss grabbed his hips and Jaune immediately stopped thrusting. Blake mewled and whined, desperate for him to continue, but Weiss' words cut through the noise, "I said 'isn't that right', Blake? Use your words."

"Y-Yes! I'm just a toy! Th-Thank you for letting him play with meeee!" Blake cried.

"That's more like it." Weiss hummed, "Now, finish with her, Jaune. I don't want to drag this out."

As soon as Weiss let go of his hips, he picked up the pace. Jaune fucked Blake with wild abandon, shoving himself as deep as he could inside her without holding back. Blake squirmed and screamed with every thrust, her hips jolting upwards with poorly timed attempts to keep pace with him. It was clumsy and messy, but in some ways, that only made it better for him. It wasn't like the picture-perfect pornos he remembered watching under the blankets.

Blake came first. Her lower lips contracted against the base of his cock as she shrieked, clear fluid smearing across his cock and the bed. It took a few more thrusts for him to get to his own climax. Blake lay limply on the bed while he finished himself off. When he was seconds away from the peak, he pulled himself back out with a small pop and came. Shots of his seed coated Blake's stomach and thighs before his dick finally went limp, dripping lazily onto the blanket.

"Good job." Weiss whispered. And then, with a vicious little smile, she looked down at Blake, "Alright, you've had your fun. Now leave."

"Wh-What...?" Blake blinked, looking up at Weiss, "That was...only one round. I should-"

"No." He could see how much she relished the word and Blake's obvious desperation. She stood and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish, "I was being kind to you as a teammate and let you have a taste of what Jaune is like. But that's all it was: a taste. Don't forget, Jaune belongs to me. You've gotten more than enough."

"But-" She didn't get the chance to finish whatever plea she had before a glyph suddenly appeared under her. Blake yelped as she was suddenly flung out the door with only a bra for modesty. Without any sympathy or hesitation, Wiess slammed the door and locked it again.

...

"That was kind of mean," Jaune mumbled.

"Was it? I gave her a taste. Were our positions reversed, I'm sure she wouldn't do the same." She grabbed his hand and tugged him up, "Now, how about the two of us take a shower? I want to wipe her scent off you."

He wanted to protest, to say that she was obviously rubbing Blake's nose in the fact that Jaune was dating Weiss and not her, but...well, his crush-turned-girlfriend (sort-of crush, different world or timeline and all) was inviting him to the shower and Jaune junior didn't want to say no. He'd deal with his existential crisis and other issues some other time.

[line break]

Hm...somewhat unsure about this chapter, but people wanted harem so hey ho. This ended up causing Weiss to act like a femdom seductress even though she was a total girlfailure up until Jaune fucked her. I dunno, maybe I'll re-write the end so Weiss is more immature? Not sure. Or maybe in this world's lore, once a Huntress loses gains a partner they just become femme fatales. Either or.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this one.

Belladonna Brawl - Chapter 4

Next chapter. Nearing the end. Just a couple more chapters to go. I'm also thinking of doing a Zenless Zone Zero oneshot where Jaune is a member of the Sons of Calydon and the whole gang comes to Beacon to see their little bro. Cue Weiss and Lucy having an instant rivalry, Yang crushing hard on Lighter, and Burnice meeting Nora.

[line break]

Jaune stumbled into yet another cave, panting heavily, his entire body aching from a combination of exhaustion, panic, and what he could only assume was the universe's personal vendetta against him. His legs felt like lead, his arms trembled from gripping Crocea Mors for dear life, and his face was sticky from a combination of sweat and fruit juice. He slumped against the nearest wall, sliding down until he sat with a heavy thud.

For a few blessed moments, he simply existed.

The jungle outside was still filled with distant shouts and rustling movements, but at least none of them were immediately closing in on him. He'd actually managed to lose the horde of crazed Belladonna simps, which was frankly miracle considering how loudly he'd been screaming while running for his life. He didn't know if it was dumb luck or if they had gotten distracted fighting each other, but he wasn't about to question it.

His chest rose and fell in deep, shaky breaths. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head rest against the cool rock behind him. He could do this. Jaune swallowed, his throat still dry from all the running and panicked yelling. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to calm down. This whole tournament was the stupidest, dumbest thing he had ever been a part of; and he'd fought against team RWBY in a food fight. But if he just focused and took things one step at a time, he could win this.

And when he did?

Jaune could already picture it. He'd look Blake in the eye, shoulders squared, and with all the confidence of a man who had just survived the worst three days of his life, he'd say:

"No thanks."

The words alone filled him with a sense of cathartic relief. He could already see it. He'd stand there, exhausted but victorious, and Blake - who probably wanted this nonsense to end just as badly as he did - would nod, maybe even shake his hand, and they'd walk away like civilized people. No romance. No weird love declarations. Just mutual understanding and, hopefully, a shared agreement that everyone else in this competition was completely insane.

And then...

Jaune exhaled, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. Then he could go back to normal life. No more love-struck lunatics trying to decapitate him. No more battles over Blake's affection...or her 'booty'. Just regular, peaceful Beacon life where Team RWBY did constant property damage that cost the city millions but somehow never got into trouble. He'd go back to training with Pyrrha, hanging out with Ren and Nora, and- oh crap, Pyrrha.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably as his mind replayed what had just happened. Pyrrha, jumping in to protect him like the unstoppable warrior she was, standing strong against the crazy greatsword guy...only to get swatted away like a ragdoll because she wasn't attracted to Blake. Jaune groaned, covering his face with his hands. That was so stupid. The entire tournament was stupid, but that? That was next-level, brain-meltingly stupid.

And yet, she still tried. Even knowing she wasn't part of the competition, even knowing she had no advantages, she still came crashing down from the sky just to help him. She hijacked an airship, for Brothers' sake! And what did she get for it? She was probably still lying in a bush somewhere, contemplating all her life choices.

Jaune sighed, dropping his hands and staring up at the cave ceiling. He owed her. Big time. She was one of the only people in this entire mess who actually gave a damn about him, and she'd nearly gotten herself flattened for it. He needed to make it up to her. Somehow.

Maybe he could cook her something? That seemed fair. Pyrrha was always the one taking care of him, making sure he ate properly and didn't accidentally set himself on fire during training. He wasn't the best cook, but he could at least put something together as a thank-you meal. Or, at the very least, he could just listen to her for once. She was always the one encouraging him, helping him train, and pushing him to be better. Maybe it was time he did the same for her.

Jaune sat up a little straighter, rolling his shoulders and shaking out the tension in his arms. He could do this. It was all simple.

...Okay, not simple, but at least he had a plan. Or an overarching goal. Whichever.

Now, all he had to do was make sure he didn't die before he got the chance to actually do any of it.

And judging by the distant sound of something exploding outside, that was going to be easier said than done. Jaune sighed, dragging his hands down his face, "I hate this tournament so much." But even as he said it, he pushed himself up, adjusting his grip on Crocea Mors and schooling his face into a neutral expression.

He wasn't going down without a fight.

Jaune took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever fresh hell awaited him outside. He'd lost the horde of crazy simps, found another cave, and managed to regain his bearings. Things were looking up.

Which, of course, meant that things were about to go very, very wrong.

As he stepped outside, bracing for another chase sequence or an impromptu beatdown, he instead blinked in sheer disbelief. Bodies. Not dead bodies, thank the Brothers, but unconscious, groaning, absolutely wrecked bodies were sprawled across the ground like the aftermath of a particularly violent food fight. Jaune's gaze darted across the scene. Broken weapons, shattered Scrolls, and even a few makeshift banners with "Blake is Love, Blake is Life" scrawled across them littered the battlefield.

His eyes drifted toward the center of the chaos, where one person stood, scowling with such pure, unfiltered irritation that even Jaune - who had no idea what was happening - felt his survival instincts kick in.

Uh...what was her name again? Cinder...Autumn? It was something seasons related. That weird transfer student who looked way too old to be a first-year. She stood tall amidst the carnage, her arms crossed, an aura of sheer, radiating annoyance rolling off her in waves. Her scowl deepened when she turned and locked eyes with Jaune, like he was the cherry on top of the terrible sundae that was her day. And she looked she was gonna do something about that.

Jaune's survival instincts immediately overrode his brain, and he threw his hands up like he was under arrest, "I'm not in love with Blake!" he blurted, voice cracking slightly, "I just want to survive!"

Cinder's expression flickered. The scowl didn't disappear, but something in her eyes shifted. She took a step forward, her fiery gaze scrutinizing him with the intensity of someone trying to determine if he was worth vaporizing on the spot, "...You're serious?" she asked, her voice slow and measured.

Jaune nodded frantically, keeping his hands where she could see them, "Yes! Yes! I didn't even know what this tournament was when I signed up! I thought it was a school trip! I don't have a crush on Blake - I barely talk to Blake! I didn't want to be here!"

Cinder narrowed her eyes further, her fingers twitching slightly like she was deciding whether or not to launch him into orbit, "Hmph. You expect me to believe that?"

"Yes!" Jaune yelped, "And...And an Arc never goes back on his word!" He wasn't sure why he added that, but it felt right. Like something his dad would say if he was trying to survive his way through the most embarassing battle royale in history. Even more embarassing than the Vacuo Cheese Wars. Yes, wars plural.

Cinder studied him for a long, agonizing moment. The wind rustled through the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a bird cawed ominously, as if sensing the sheer tension of the situation. Then, at last, she sighed, "...Fine."

Jaune blinked, "Wait, what?"

She crossed her arms again, but her scowl lost some of its edge, "If you're telling the truth - and I will know if you're lying - then that means you're just as much a victim of this ridiculous spectacle as I am."

Jaune slowly lowered his hands, still wary, "Uh. Yeah? I guess?"

Cinder's amber eyes flickered back toward the unconscious simps at her feet, "This," she said, gesturing vaguely to the disaster zone around them, "Is beyond absurd. I came here to make sense of the madness. But instead, I've had to endure a day of desperate, lovesick idiots treating Blake Belladonna like some kind of divine figure."

Jaune scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "Yeah, that's been my experience too. Except with more running."

Cinder exhaled sharply, shaking her head, "I refuse to let my reputation be tarnished by participating in this. I'll win, of course. But the idea that I'd waste my time chasing after that smut-obsessed Faunus is an insult."

Jaune blinked, processing that, "...You're not in love with Blake?"

Cinder made a face like he'd personally offended her, "Of course not! I have standards."

Jaune exhaled slowly, lowering his guard just a little, "Oh. Well. That's...actually kind of a relief." She could've been lying, of course, but why would she? It wasn't like he could stop her if she really was another crazy admirer. He didn't have any traps, didn't have any time to prepare some kind of counter-attack.

She smirked, tilting her head, "Why? Afraid you'd have to fight me?"

"Afraid? No. Terrified? Absolutely." Cinder actually chuckled at that - low, amused, and just a little unsettling. Jaune gulped, "So, uh...what happens now?"

Cinder tapped a finger against her chin, humming thoughtfully, "That depends. You want to win, don't you?"

Jaune hesitated, "I mean...sort of? But only so I can say 'no thanks' and go back to my life. Really, I'd take losing if I had a guarantee that some insane simp wouldn't just beat the heck out of me to secure the win. Cause there's no chance any of these crazies will make it quick."

Cinder's smirk widened slightly, "Hmph. I almost respect that."

Jaune braced himself, "Almost?"

Cinder leaned in just slightly, eyes gleaming with something unreadable, "You do realize what this means, don't you?"

Jaune blinked, "...What?"

Cinder gestured to the battlefield, the unconscious bodies, the absolute mess she had left behind, "It means that, aside from myself, you might be the only person in this tournament who isn't powered by sheer, unhinged Belladonna obsession."

Jaune swallowed hard, "...Oh."

She stepped past him, walking slowly, like she was enjoying watching him squirm, "You'll never match Yang's brute force. And Adam?" She scoffed, "Let's just say he's...particularly motivated. I know that from personal experience." Jaune was tempted to ask what that personal experience was, but he held himself back. Cinder's gaze flicked back to him, considering, "But you're still here. You've survived. And if you really don't care about winning Blake's affection..." She trailed off, smirking again.

He tensed, "...Then what?"

Cinder tilted her head slightly, an almost predatory glint in her eyes, "Then maybe we should talk." Jaune shifted uncomfortably, still wary despite the fact that Cinder hadn't tried to incinerate him yet. She wasn't acting hostile - not yet, anyway - but that didn't mean he could just relax. He'd seen what she'd done to the poor idiots sprawled across the ground. If she wanted him out of the competition, she could probably snap her fingers and make it happen.

So, cautiously, he asked, "So...how exactly are you still here?" Cinder arched a brow. "I mean," Jaune said quickly, "You don't seem like you find Blake attractive. Pyrrha got oneshot just because she didn't. But you're still standing, and I know those guys weren't holding back." He gestured vaguely to the fallen simps groaning around them. He did find Blake attractive, objectively speaking. Not enough to fall in love with her, but enough that he wasn't immediately kicked to the stratosphere. He didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse.

Cinder scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "Please. As if I'd fall to this." She kicked one of the unconscious students lightly in the ribs, making him wheeze in his sleep.

Jaune gulped, "R-Right, but that still doesn't answer-"

"I'm not in love with her," Cinder interrupted, rolling her eyes, "Let's get that straight. But." She exhaled sharply, almost begrudgingly, as if admitting something deeply unpleasant, "I do acknowledge that mangy cat is...attractive." Jaune blinked, thrown by how much she seemed to hate admitting that. He wasn't against saying Blake was attractive; pretty much every female student in Beacon was. No, the main issue he had was being airdropped into a battle royale because of it.

And no, he refused to accept any blame just because he signed up for that stupid form. Who put up something like that on the bulletin board?!

Cinder crossed her arms, scowling, "Annoyingly so. As much as it disgusts me, I can see the appeal. Pale skin, dark hair, amber eyes..." Jaune frowned. Something about the way she listed those traits felt...odd. His brain took a second to process before it clicked. Pale skin, dark hair, amber eyes-

Was she talking about Blake...or herself?

Jaune's mouth opened, then closed. He glanced at her again, really looking at her for the first time since this ridiculous encounter started. She and Blake did kind of...look similar, didn't they? Different styles, sure - Cinder had that whole elegant-but-murderous thing going on, while Blake leaned more toward 'mysterious bookworm who might stab you if you interrupted her reading' - but the physical similarities were there.

He decided not to comment on it for the sake of his continued survival. Instead, he cleared his throat, trying to move the conversation along, "Right. So, uh...if you don't actually want to win Blake's heart, what are you doing here?"

Cinder's scowl deepened, her gaze darkening as she turned away slightly, "I'm here-" she said slowly, "-to figure out why."

Jaune frowned, "Why...what?"

"Why her?" Cinder snapped, throwing a hand toward the screens hovering above them. So far, Port and Oobleck hadn't done any commentary. Probably because they were just talking instead of fighting to the (near) death for Blake's affections, "Why is she the center of all this? Why does everyone worship the ground she walks on? Why does this entire school act like she's some untouchable goddess? They're acting like they're fighting for...Helen of Mistral!"

Jaune squinted at her, the gears turning in his head. Oh, she was pissed about this, wasn't she? Jaune wasn't exactly happy to be stuck in this tournament, but Cinder? She wasn't just annoyed. She was offended. And now that he was actually paying attention, she wasn't just mad that Blake was getting all this attention. No, this was deeper than that.

She was mad that it wasn't her.

Jaune let out a slow breath, "So...just to be clear...you're not here to win Blake's affection."

"Absolutely not."

"You're here to figure out why everyone is fighting over Blake..."

"Yes."

"And not, say, someone more...deserving?"

Cinder's eye twitched, "I don't like your tone, Arc."

Jaune took a tiny step back, hands raised. Keep your stupid mouth shut, he told himself mentally, "Oh no, I'm just asking questions. Purely hypothetical. No assumptions at all."

Cinder narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him like she was debating whether or not he was worth keeping alive. Jaune held perfectly still, trying not to sweat under the intensity of her gaze. After a painfully long moment, she exhaled sharply, clearly still irritated, "This tournament is a joke. But if I'm going to be forced to participate, I will find out what makes that book-obsessed Faunus so special."

Jaune nodded slowly, "Uh-huh. And if you don't find a good reason?"

Cinder's smirk returned, sharp and predatory, "Then I'll just have to correct everyone's misguided priorities."

Jaune swallowed. Yeah. He definitely knew who she meant. Perfect. The one non-Blake obsessed person here and it was because she was a raging narcissist. Well, whatever, he could use this. He licked his lips, mind racing as he weighed his options. On one hand, Cinder was terrifying. On the other hand, so was literally everyone else. But unlike the other lunatics in this competition, she wasn't actively foaming at the mouth for Blake's affection. That put her in a rare, exclusive category of 'People Who Might Not Try To Kill Me Immediately.'

And he could work with that.

"Alright," he said slowly, lowering his hands, "How about we make a deal?"

Cinder arched a brow, folding her arms, "A deal?"

Jaune nodded, forcing himself to meet her gaze, "We work together. Take out the rest of these lunatics before they get us. You don't have to worry about being caught unaware, I don't have to keep running for my life. It's a win-win."

Cinder hummed, tilting her head slightly, her amber eyes flickering with intrigue, "And what happens when it's just the two of us?"

Jaune exhaled, already knowing he wasn't going to like what he was about to say, "I let you win."

Cinder's eyes widened ever so slightly, just for a fraction of a second, before narrowing in suspicion, "You'd just let me beat you?"

Jaune shrugged helplessly, "It's not like I could win in a fair fight anyway."

That earned him an amused smirk, "True."

"But," Jaune continued quickly, holding up a finger, "You have to promise me something." Cinder's amusement dimmed, but she gestured for him to continue, "If I let you take me out," Jaune said, straightening his back, "Then you promise to make it quick. No dragging it out, no beating me to a pulp while screaming about the Bellabooty, no weird declarations of dominance. I want it quick and clean. Like going to take your shots."

Cinder chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying his discomfort, "Aw. You don't want me to whisper sweet nothings while stomping your face into the dirt?"

Jaune shuddered, "I really don't."

Cinder's smirk remained, but she seemed to consider it. Her fingers drummed lightly against her arm as she eyed him, scrutinizing every inch of his expression, likely trying to see if he was serious or if this was some elaborate trick. Finally, she sighed dramatically, "Fine. If you hold up your end of the bargain, I suppose I can grant you a quick elimination."

Jaune let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, "Great. So, uh...partners?"

Cinder's smirk widened, but there was something distinctly dangerous about it, "For now."

Jaune gulped, "...For now."

But just as he was about to relax, Cinder leaned in slightly, her voice lowering into something more sinister, "But Arc?"

Jaune tensed immediately, "Uh. Yeah?"

Cinder's eyes gleamed, her expression still deceptively playful, "If you try to double-cross me, your death will be slow, painful, and very traumatizing."

Jaune swallowed hard, nodding rapidly, "Noted. Very much noted."

Cinder hummed approvingly, "Good." Jaune resisted the urge to groan. Well. He technically wasn't alone anymore. Yay? She tilted her head, still smirking, "Alright, Arc. What's the plan?"

Jaune wiped his hands on his pants, still feeling a little shaky from the whole 'making a deal with a crazy narcissist who could absolutely turn him into a human torch' situation. He pulled out his scroll and tapped through the interface, bringing up the latest update on the tournament's status. Twelve contestants left. He and Cinder were obviously still in the running, so six more unknowns. And then there were the two big problems.

Yang and that Adam guy.

He shuddered involuntarily. One was a walking wrecking ball powered by who wouldn't know proportional force if it smacked her in the face The other was...well, the other guy. Even looking at his little portrait on the list made Jaune uncomfortable. There was a darkness in that guy's eyes that screamed I should be locked up for a the good of Remnant.

Jaune took a deep breath, willing himself to focus, "Alright," he muttered, adjusting his grip on his scroll, "We can deal with this. We have to deal with this."

Cinder tapped her foot impatiently, "I'm waiting."

Jaune nodded, tapping the screen, "First, we lure as many people as we can into a trap. We thin out the competition, knock out as many as possible, and make sure we're the only ones left besides Yang and Adam."

Cinder's interest visibly piqued at that, "Hmm. Go on."

Jaune tapped a few more times, opening up the map, "Once it's just us and them, we let the two of them fight. Let them wail on each other, burn themselves out, and do all the hard work for us." He pointed to Adam's name on the list, "That guy? He's way too intense. I can tell that just from his freaking picture. No way he's walking away from a fight with Yang without taking some serious damage." Because he'd refuse to surrender or retreat. It was either win or (almost) die trying.

"Neither will she," Cinder added, catching on quickly.

Jaune nodded, "Exactly. Once one of them finally goes down, the other'll be weak. That's when we strike. Ambush them, take them out before they can recover, and boom. We win." A pause, "Or, well, you win. Just remember to keep your promise."

Cinder's smirk widened, a gleam of approval in her eyes, "I like it."

Jaune let out a breath, "Great."

"I especially like the ambush part," Cinder mused, her voice smooth, "Striking at enemies when they least expect it? That's very much my style."

Jaune gulped, "Yeah, uh...figured you'd like that."

"But," she continued, tilting her head, "That still leaves one question, doesn't it?"

Jaune blinked, "Huh?"

Cinder gestured vaguely, "The trap. How do you plan to lure the others into your plan?"

Jaune hesitated, glancing back down at the map. His fingers tapped idly over the screen, his mind racing. He needed somewhere open enough to control the battlefield, but with enough cover to set up something. He didn't know what yet, but something.

Then his eyes landed on a clearing near the center of the map. There. He tapped the location, looking up at Cinder, "Here. This is where we set up a trap."

Cinder glanced at the map, raising a brow, "Hmm. And what is this trap, exactly?"

Jaune grinned nervously, tucking his scroll away, "I'll explain when we get there."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, but the smirk never left her lips, "Keeping secrets already?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Not really, I just, uh, haven't exactly figured out all the details yet. But don't worry, it'll be a good one! And it's not like you have anything to lose, right?"

"And that map? I don't have one. Am I supposed to assume you just happened to have this island's geography on your scroll?"

"Let's just say I have a friend. I can't say any more; if I do, they might back out, and we're gonna need their help. The only reason I managed to survive so far is because of them."

"Considering the competition and your own lack of skills, they must be a valuable ally indeed. He winced. Did she have to be so blunt about it? Cinder chuckled, low and soft, "Fine, I'll play along. For now. Lead the way, Arc. Let's see if your plan is as clever as you think it is."

Jaune nodded, gripping Crocea Mors a little tighter as he turned toward the jungle. No pressure. No pressure at all.

[line break]

Jaune wiped the sweat from his brow as he knelt in the center of the clearing. It wasn't the most glamorous work, but it was necessary. He'd spent the past thirty minutes scrambling around like a lunatic, gathering as much sand, loose stones, and anything remotely throwable as he could. His hands were dirty, his knees ached from crouching, and he was pretty sure he was starting to smell. He would've taken off his hoodie if he wasn't too shy to expose himself to whatever cameras were around.

If this plan was going to work, he needed ammo.

The clearing was the perfect place for it - flat terrain, plenty of loose earth, and just enough distance from the treeline that anyone stepping into the open would be completely exposed. All it needed was the right setup, and Cinder's Semblance gave them exactly what they needed.

She could superheat objects. Jaune wasn't a genius, but even he knew that meant they could weaponize this entire clearing. Superheated sand and stone? Those were projectiles. And painful ones, too. They might not take out the stronger contestants outright, but getting hit with a faceful of burning, molten anything was going to put a serious dent in their Aura. It was a simple idea, but effective. And he'd take any advantage he could get.

He glanced up at Cinder, who stood nearby, watching him him like an amused noblewoman observing a peasant struggle with farmwork. She wasn't helping, not even a little. She just leaned against a tree, arms crossed, amber eyes flickering with something unreadable. Jaune huffed, grabbing another handful of sand, "You know, you could help."

Cinder scoffed, "I could," she agreed, flicking a speck of dirt off her sleeve, "But why would I?"

Jaune groaned, "Because this is our plan?"

"Yes," she said dryly, "And you're the one gathering materials. I'll handle the actual attack. Or would you rather we switch roles?" Jaune said nothing, "That's what I thought. Hmph, this would be much more convenient if I had my minions."

Jaune paused, raising an eyebrow, "Minions?"

Cinder waved a hand dismissively, "You know. Subordinates. Useful people who do all the menial tasks for me."

Jaune's expression twisted, "You mean friends?"

Cinder snorted. It sounded weird coming from her, "No, Arc. Minions."

Jaune sighed, shaking his head as he went back to gathering stones, "Right. Of course." He was too tired to ask. She was a first year at 25. She probably had some weirdness to her.

Cinder continued watching him, tapping her fingers idly against her arm, "I don't see why I should get my hands dirty when I have you to do the grunt work."

"Because teamwork?" Jaune groaned.

Cinder rolled her eyes, "Charming, but no."

Jaune groaned again, tossing a particularly large stone into the pile with more force than necessary, "You know, if this doesn't work, you're going to have to fight Adam or Yang without my genius plan to soften them up." Granted, said genius plan was literally 'jump them when their back was turned', but you know what they said: if a plan is stupid and it works, then it's not stupid. Ruby knew that too. Who else would use a slingshot to take out a Nevermore?

Cinder's huffed softly, but she didn't argue. Instead, she exhaled through her nose and muttered, "This would still be easier if I had my minions."

Jaune shook his head, "Yeah, well, you've got me instead. Congratulations."

Cinder hummed, a glint of amusement in her eyes, "Hmph. I suppose I'll make do. Who knows, if you prove yourself useful, then maybe you'll have a spot in my inner circle." Jaune shook his head and kept digging. This would all be worth it in the end, he told himself as he stepped over to the edge of the clearing. The enemy of my enemy was my friend. And right now, he had a lot of enemies to deal with.

[line break]

Jaune crouched low, fingers deftly working as he tied a snare into place. The idea was simple: trap as many people as possible before they reached the center of the clearing, making them easy targets for Cinder's incoming superheated barrage. Anyone unlucky enough to step in the wrong spot was getting yanked off their feet and left hanging like the world's dumbest piñata. And if they weren't caught in the snares, then the tripwires would do in a pinch.

As he tugged the knot tight, his scroll buzzed in his pocket. Jaune sighed. Right on schedule. He fished it out, answering the call without looking, "Before you say anything, yes, I know working with Cinder is a terrible idea." He looked over to his 'partner'. She was browsing her scroll and not even looking at him.

The voice on the other end was silent for a moment, "Good. Then why are you doing it?"

Jaune rolled his eyes, pulling a vine taut as he tested the tension in his snare, "Because I don't have a choice. You think I can just waltz into the finals alone and expect to take out Yang and that Adam guy on my own? Please. I've already used up all my dumb luck getting this far."

The voice hummed, unimpressed, "Even so, Cinder is...dangerous."

Jaune let out a dry laugh, "Oh wow, thanks for that revelation, mysterious jungle voice. I had no idea. Is it because she's obviously a narcissist? Or the fact that she unironically refers to people as minions and acts like saying I can be one is a huge compliment?"

"You're being flippant."

"I'm being realistic." Jaune moved on to the next snare, looping the vine through a branch with practiced ease, "Besides, at least this way, Blake doesn't have to deal with a crazy simp that wants her butt." The voice went silent. Jaune, too busy tying another knot, didn't stop to think about it, "I mean, yeah, Cinder's a whole different problem, but she's not that kind of crazy, you know? The last thing Blake needs is some nutcase thinking they own her just because they fought in some dumb island battle royale."

Another pause. Then, finally, the voice asked, "Why does that matter to you?"

Jaune blinked, pausing mid-knot, "...Huh?"

The voice repeated, slower this time, "Why does that matter to you?"

Jaune frowned, resuming his work, "What, do I need a reason to not want someone to deal with an obsessive creep? Call me crazy, but I feel like that should just be common decency." They were being trained as the future protectors of mankind. Considering no one (himself included...) helped out that Velvet girl when she was being harassed by Cardin and his team, they probably weren't doing a very good job. Maybe this was his own way of making up for it.

"You're not friends with her," the voice pointed out, "By your own admission."

Jaune huffed, "Yeah, well...so what? Maybe we're not friends exactly, but I've been through enough here to want to make sure she doesn't have to deal with someone like that crazy sword guy. No one deserves that."

The voice went quiet again. Jaune didn't really care. He had work to do. He tugged the vine tight and gave a small, satisfied nod, "Besides, you're the one who wanted a not-crazy person to win, right? If that means cutting a deal with Cinder, then that's what I'll do." He moved on to the next trap. Granted, Cinder was still crazy, but not the kind of crazy that would bother Blake.

"...You're kind of an idiot, aren't you?"

"Hey! What's with the insults?"

"It was a compliment."

"Really? Doesn't sound like it." Jaune sighed and got back to work. Stupid jungle voice.

[line break]

Jaune tied off the last snare, stepping back to survey his handiwork. The traps were set. Vines strung high, tension just right, everything positioned to catch as many unsuspecting idiots as possible. It was almost beautiful in a way. A deathtrap masterpiece. If he made it through this alive, he could imagine himself being the first ever trap Huntsman. Using actual Hunter methods against the Grimm. Yeah, that sounded cool...

Now all that was left was the hard part: actually getting people to walk into it. Jaune sighed, rubbing his temples, "Alright, I did my part. Now how the hell do we get six crazies to charge in here?" It needed to be exact. He couldn't exactly cover the whole clearing, just one part of it.

The voice hummed in his ear, their tone unreadable, "I have an idea."

Jaune frowned, "Oh yeah? What-"

His scroll vibrated, and a notification popped up. New message received. A picture attachment loaded on his screen. Curious, he tapped it.

And instantly regretted everything.

Jaune's brain short-circuited. His face turned a deep shade of red as he visibly recoiled, nearly dropping his scroll as he staggered back, "What the hell?!"

It was a picture of Blake sitting in a chair. One hand was lifting her shirt, exposing a very lacy black bra with intricate patterns that drew the eyes. The other hand was- oh Brothers, nope, nope, NOPE. His eyes flicked downwards. The zipper of her shorts was undone, the white fabric pulled halfway down her legs to her knees. The white fabric contrasted starkly against the black-purple stockings. He only noticed then that the fabric didn't come up to her waist, instead stopping at her creamy, pale thighs.

And yep, there were her panties. Black lace just like her bra with similarly shaped patterns.

Her face was mostly blank, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks, just enough to imply she was flustered but not enough to completely break the unreadable expression. Her eyes were half-lidded, amber eyes staring straight into his soul in silent judgement. Technically, nothing was explicitly exposed. Technically, it wasn't the worst thing he could've seen. The voice could've sent something way more graphic. But in some ways, that made it worse. Much, much worse.

Jaune clapped a hand over his burning face, willing himself to forget what he just saw, "How did you even get this?!" He briefly wondered if the voice on the other end was Blake before disregarding it. No chance she'd send something like this to him, even if she was desperate for him to win. No, it had to be someone else on team RWBY. Ruby wouldn't send this either. Weiss or Yang, maybe? The voice sounded haughy enough for Weiss.

No, he didn't have time to think about that now.

The voice on the other end didn't sound remotely fazed, "That's not important."

Llike hell it's not!" Jaune yelled, still looking anywhere but his screen, "Why do you have this?!"

"Focus, Arc," the voice said, completely uncaring of his embarassment, "Send this to the remaining six contestants."

Jaune's stomach dropped, "What?"

The voice continued, calm and measured, "Send them the picture. Tell them you're Blake's soulmate and to 'come and get it'. Then tell Cinder to superheat one of the stones like a flare. They'll be on your like rabid dogs. Mindless, stupid, and vicious even when they're not dealing with rabies."

Jaune's breath caught in his throat. His brain scrambled to keep up with whatever deranged thought process was unfolding before him, "Are you-Are you telling me to bait the simps?!"

"Yes."

"That's insane!"

"No," the voice corrected, "It's effective." Unless you have another plan? Jaune opened his mouth to argue, but then his mind reluctantly processed why this could work. The lunatics in this competition weren't just competing for Blake's affection; they were obsessed. All it would take was one message. One declaration that he was Blake's "true love," paired with that picture, and they would come charging in a jealous rage.

Right into his perfectly laid-out trap.

Jaune dragged a hand down his face, "...This is the worst thing I've ever done."

The voice didn't hesitate, "No, it's the smartest thing you've ever done."

Jaune groaned. He was going to hate himself for this, but...if it got him one step closer to ending this tournament and getting his life back...

He exhaled through his nose, steeling himself as he pulled up the six contestants' contact info. Their scroll numbers were listed alongside their names. Trackers were off though, so it was really only useful if you wanted to send a taunting message to a rival. Spice up the fights. Jaune hadn't gotten any messages the whole time, and he was hoping he could keep to that.

"...I can't believe I'm about to do this." Jaune's fingers trembled as he pressed send, his breath hitching in anticipation of the inevitable storm that was about to break. For a few agonizing moments, there was nothing but silence, a brief, fleeting pocket of peace that almost made him believe that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't work as expected. SUre, he'd need to come up with a different plan, but it was better than literally poking the Lancest nest.

Then, his scroll exploded.

Notifications poured in with the force of an avalanche, his screen lighting up with furious messages one after another, a flood of raw, unfiltered outrage so intense that Jaune physically recoiled. He barely had time to read half of them, but from the few glimpses he managed to catch between rapid pop-ups, it was abundantly clear that his message had done exactly what it was supposed to do.

"YOU LYING, FILTHY ARC!"

"YOU'RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?! DEAD!"

"BLAKE IS MINE, YOU BLONDE RAT!"

"I'LL RIP YOU LIMB FROM LIMB AND DANCE ON YOUR CORPSE!"

"I'M GOING TO EAT YOU AND SHIT OUT WHAT'S LEFT!"

Jaune swallowed hard, barely able to process the sheer venom behind their words before he heard it - the telltale sound of an approaching stampede.

It started as a distant, ominous rumbling, the soft tremor of countless enraged footsteps colliding with the forest floor in perfect, synchronized fury. At first, it was almost surreal, something he could have easily mistaken for a passing breeze rustling the undergrowth, but then it grew louder. The tremors turned into full-blown quakes, the rhythmic pounding of enraged warriors moving as a single unit, every step radiating with an intensity that screamed murder.

Jaune's entire body stiffened, his muscles locking up with an instinctual run response, but he forced himself to stay still, his heart hammering in his chest as he clenched his fists. He had to wait. The timing was everything.

And then...they emerged.

Half a dozen figures burst through the treeline in a frenzied, frothing rage, their eyes blazing with the kind of unhinged fury that only a deeply personal betrayal could bring. Their faces were twisted into expressions of pure wrath, their teeth bared, their weapons clutched so tightly their knuckles had gone white with the sheer force of their grip. Four guys and two girls, but right now, they didn't look like men and women training to be Huntsmen. No, they looked like deranged beasts that would give the Grimm nightmares.

And were all coming for him.

"DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

The sheer volume of their collective war cry sent a spike of panic straight through Jaune's soul, but still, he waited. He waited until they were close enough that he could see the sheer desperation in their eyes, close enough that he could feel the heat of their anger rolling off them in suffocating waves, close enough that he was almost convinced they would tear him apart right then and there.

Then, without a second thought, he turned and bolted.

The instant he spun on his heel, the forest exploded with the sound of screaming rage, the horde giving chase with reckless abandon, their war cries shaking the trees as they lunged after him. Jaune pushed himself forward as hard as he could, every ounce of his focus dedicated to not tripping over his own feet as he weaved through the clearing, hopping over the carefully laid-out snares and avoiding the tripwires with the precision of a man whose life depended on it.

The six of them, too enraged and jealous, didn't notice the traps at all.

"URK?!"

"WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?!"

One by one, the six enraged contestants ran straight into his traps, their momentum betrayed by the very ground they had been so certain would lead them to their glorious revenge. Some were yanked straight into the air, their limbs flailing wildly as they dangled from the trees like oversized, screaming pinatas. Others stumbled headfirst into snare traps that coiled tightly around their legs, yanking them back with brutal efficiency. One particularly unfortunate soul tripped over a cleverly placed wire and tumbled face-first into the dirt, his angry battle cry cutting off into a strangled wheeze as he was promptly buried under his own flailing teammates.

Jaune belly flopped with the grace of a beached whale and screamed, "NOW, CINDER! NOW!"

A wave of heat surged over him, the air around him distorting from the sheer intensity of it, and then-

A barrage of superheated projectiles shot over him, burning stone and sand slamming into the trapped contestants with ruthless, unrelenting force. The sheer impact of it was enough to send shockwaves rippling through the clearing, each hit accompanied by a fresh wave of agonized screaming as their Auras were mercilessly drained away, the makeshift ammunition eating through their defenses like they were nothing more than paper shields.

"AAAAAAGGHHHHH!"

"IT BURNS! IT BUUUURNS!"

"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO MEEEEEEEE?!"

Jaune stayed down, belly flat against the dirt, hands clamped over his head as the onslaught continued. The heat was unbearable, waves of molten energy licking at his back as Cinder unleashed hell on the helpless simps, her attack so overwhelmingly destructive that for a brief, terrifying second, Jaune almost thought she had forgotten he wasn't the enemy.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the barrage stopped. Silence followed, heavy and absolute. Jaune cautiously peeled his face off the ground, blinking dazedly as he took in the devastation around him. The six contestants lay sprawled across the clearing, their bodies twitching, their clothes singed, their Auras completely gone. The smell of burning foliage filled the air, and Jaune could still see wisps of smoke curling up from where the superheated projectiles had landed.

It was over. It actually worked. Jaune groaned, rolling onto his back and staring up at the sky, sucking in deep, desperate breaths as his body finally registered that it was, for the moment, safe.

A shadow fell over him. Cinder stood above him, arms crossed, ambered eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction, her expression practically oozing confidence, "Hmph," she mused, tilting her head, "I guess you're not completely useless, Arc."

Jaune pushed himself up onto his elbows, still gasping for breath, about to throw out some half-witty remark about how technically, this whole insane plan had been his idea before he heard it. A deep, resounding whir cut through the clearing, followed by a sudden gust of wind that nearly knocked him flat again.

His head snapped upward just in time to see the massive, imposing silhouette of an airship descending from the sky, its sleek hull blotting out the sunlight as it loomed directly over the clearing. The sudden shift in atmosphere was immediate. Where once there had been the faint crackling of cooling stones and the groans of unconscious simps, there was now only the low, menacing hum of powerful thrusters holding the craft in place.

Before Jaune could even think to react, before he could so much as move, figures began dropping from the airship in perfect synchronization, each one landing with the fluid precision of highly trained professionals.

Huntsmen. A lot of Huntsmen. Jaune barely had time to process what was happening before they were already on the move, spreading out across the clearing with their weapons at the ready, moving with the kind of authority that made it painfully clear that this wasn't just some random inspection. This was an operation.

And Cinder was at the center of it.

Her smirk vanished in an instant, eyes widening ever so slightly before narrowing into a furious glare. Her entire body tensed, her fingers twitching like she was on the verge of igniting the entire battlefield all over again, but before she could so much as lift a hand, three of the Huntsmen were already on her.

She hissed like a cornered predator, dodging the first two attempts to restrain her before another Huntsman slammed a specialized suppression device onto her wrist, locking her Aura and neutralizing her Semblance in one swift motion. Her eyes burned with orange flames, but before she could do...whatever it was she was planning, a collar was slapped around her neck, shocking her horribly every time she so much as blinked.

"Get your hands off of me!" she snarled, thrashing violently as they forced her to her knees, but no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't break free. The collar kept zapping her all the while, the flames around her eyes starting and stopping constantly with every jolt.

Jaune, still sitting in the dirt in confusion, barely noticed when the last person dropped down from the airship, his presence somehow more imposing than the dozen Huntsmen already in play.

Ozpin.

Jaune's breath caught in his throat as the headmaster stepped forward, hands folded neatly behind his back, his ever-calm expression betraying nothing as he looked down at Cinder with something just shy of disapproval, "Cinder Fall," he said, his voice even and measured, as if he were addressing an unruly student instead of a dangerous narcissist, "I trust you understand why we're here. I'm afraid your time in this competition has come to an end."

Cinder snarled again, her hair falling over her face as she glared up at him. Again, she tried to attack, but another jolt of the collar sent her sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Ozpin continued without a care, "We've been tracking you for quite some time," he said, tilting his head slightly, "However, your identity was only recently confirmed, thanks to an...unexpected informant. We had, of course, intended to deal with you sooner, but I regret to say it took some time to make the proper accommodations. Villains of your caliber require rather specific containment measures."

Jaune blinked, "Wait, what?"

Ozpin cast him a brief glance before returning his focus to Cinder, "Adam Taurus," he continued, "Has offered information on your presence in exchange for permission to participate in this competition. With that confirmation, we finally had everything we needed to bring you in." Jaune's blood ran cold. He had no idea what was happening. All he did know was that his ace in the hole - the only ally he had on the ground - was being taken away for...some reason.

Cinder screamed in frustration, lurching forward in a last, desperate attempt to free herself, but the Huntsmen moved with practiced efficiency, three of them already closing in and slamming her back down with precise, controlled force, "You bastard!" she spat, her voice dripping with raw fury, "You think you can just-"

One of the Huntsmen knocked her out before she could finish, their weapon striking the back of her head with just enough force to render her unconscious. Jaune flinched. The Huntsmen moved quickly after that, binding Cinder's wrists and ankles with reinforced restraints before hoisting her up and carrying her toward the waiting airship. None of them even glanced in Jaune's direction, too focused on their mission to acknowledge the stunned, shell-shocked blonde still sitting in the dirt, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"Uh- wait- hold on!"

The airship's thrusters powered up again, its engines roaring to life as the Huntsmen filed in one by one, securing Cinder's unconscious form before taking their positions. Jaune's mind finally caught up with what was happening, "Wait!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet, "Can I get a rid- "

The airship took off, kicking up a powerful gust of wind that nearly knocked him over again before it vanished into the sky. Jaune stood there in absolute disbelief, staring up at the empty space where the airship had been, his brain still desperately trying to process what had just happened.

They took Cinder. They left him. He was still stuck here...and both Yang and that Adam guy were still out there.

His knees buckled, and he slowly, helplessly lowered himself into a fetal position. This was it. This was how he died. His scroll buzzed. Jaune barely even reacted as it automatically accepted the call. The voice on the other end was quiet for a moment before finally speaking, "I'm still still here."

He rocked rocked back and forth.

"I'll still help you. You survived before Cinder, and you can survive now that she's gone."

He curled up.

"...Arc?"

Jaune groaned weakly, his entire body resigning itself to his fate.

The voice sighed, "...Just keep breathing. We'll make it through this. Together."

[line break]

Blake let out a long, slow sigh, her fingers tapping idly against the armrest of her seat as she leaned back, gaze fixed on the screen before her. Jaune was curled up in the dirst, his entire body locked in the universal posture of I have given up on everything. The high-resolution camera zoomed in slightly, giving her an even clearer view of his expression - one of utter exhaustion, complete disbelief, and the unmistakable look of a man who had just realized he was well and truly screwed.

She didn't blame him.

It was down to three now - Jaune, Adam, and Yang. And despite how much she hated this whole ridiculous, mind-numbing farce of a competition, she knew that she had to do everything in her power to make sure Jaune won.

At first, it'd been a purely logical decision that came down due to the process of elimination. Out of all the psychotic, love-starved maniacs who signed up, Jaune was, without question, the least awful option. He was the only one who hadn't entered because of some deluded obsession with her, the only one who hadn't spoken about her as if she were a prize to be claimed, and the only one who hadn't spent the past few days screaming about his undying love for the 'Bellabooty.'

Granted, that was because he somehow mistook it for a field trip cause he was too dumb to read the damn paper, but whatever.

But now, watching him lying there in the dirt, rocking back and forth like a broken man, something in her chest twisted in a way that she didn't quite understand. Because Jaune had done something none of the others had done: He actually cared.

Not in the suffocating, unbearable way the others had that made her seriously consider faking her own death just to escape it all (It wouldn't have been the first time). No, Jaune had cared in a way that was...normal. He cared enough to worry about her, to think about what happened next and what her life would look like after this ridiculous contest was over. He'd cared enough to say that he didn't want her to end up stuck with some lunatic who saw her as a trophy.

And sure, maybe that was just the bare minimum, but honestly? After dealing with Yang, Adam, Ilia, and Blake for months, her standards were at rock bottom.

Blake shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers tightening slightly against her armrests, her thoughts moving faster than she was comfortable with. He hadn't entered this competition for her, but he fought to survive it. He'd gotten this far through sheer dumb luck, pure determination, clever planning, and, above all, a refusal to simply roll over and let himself be trampled by the horde of simps chasing after her. That was admirable in a way.

And, well...

He hadn't been eliminated in a single hit, had he?

Her gaze flickered to the screen again, to where Jaune was still curled up, shaking slightly, his entire posture radiating I do not want to be here. If attraction was tied to power in this ridiculous contest - which Pyrrha had proven given how quickly she lost - then that meant Jaune had to find her at least a little attractive. He hadn't been knocked out immediately, and even if that was only because of his absurdly large Aura reserves, it still meant that, on some level, he was at least physically attracted to her.

Which meant...

Blake exhaled, shifting again, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she tried to ignore the sudden, unfamiliar warmth creeping into her face. Just maybe...it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe, if Jaune did win - if he somehow managed to survive Adam and Yang - maybe it wouldn't be entirely awful if he decided that he actually wanted to date her. It'd keep the rest of her fans away, and Jaune seemed...okay enough. Malleable. After dealing with Type A personalities for years, someone different could be just what she needed.

She shook her head. First, she had to make sure he won. After that...well, you never know.

[line break]

Oh no, Blake's at it again. How's Jaune gonna win against Yang and Adam? I have no idea. Guess we'll see.

Question:

1. Just curious if you guys changed your mind. Knightshade or Jaune still not into Blake?

Next character for Maid Jaune

Character choices on who you guys wanna see for the next Maid Jaune chapter.

Cafe D'Arc - Maid Jaune, Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of Maid Jaune. Weiss' turn now. Per the vote, there will be no butt stuff.

[line break]

Jaune trudged through the hallways of Beacon, still reeling from everything that had just happened. He'd slept with Pyrrha. That was a fact. A very real, inescapable fact. His first time, his partner, the whole thing. Holy crap. He shook his head violently, as if the sheer force of his denial could wipe the memory from existence. No, no, no. It wasn't like that. He hadn't just...slept with Pyrrha. That would be weird. No, this had been about helping her out. He just did what any good partner would do when their friend was in need. He was supporting her, providing relief in a time of...of crisis!

Yeah. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jaune exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he tried to shake off the strange mix of emotions swirling in his gut. He was back in his normal clothes, his maid outfit folded neatly in his bag, and now all he wanted was to get to his room, collapse onto his bed, and not think about anything for a while. Maybe ever. Still, his boss deposited his first paycheck and...wow, yeah, that little maid cafe was making a killing. Almost made him think he was in the wrong profession.

He was halfway to his room when he turned a corner and nearly ran smack into Weiss. Jaune stopped, blinking as he looked down at her. Weiss, for her part, had also come to a sudden halt in front of him, standing stiffly with her arms crossed. Normally when they crossed paths, she'd offer some sarcastic quip, roll her eyes, or huff about something he'd done wrong. At the very least, she'd shoot him a vaguely condescending look before moving on with her day.

But she didn't. Instead, she just...stared at him.

Jaune felt his stomach drop slightly. Not because she was scowling at him, or glaring, or sneering, but because she was just standing there, lips pursed, eyes locked onto his with an unreadable expression. It was weird. Really weird, "Uh..." Jaune forced a smile, rubbing the back of his neck, "Hey, Weiss."

Nothing. Not a word. Her icy blue eyes flickered ever so slightly, trailing over him in a way he couldn't quite place. Jaune shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling inexplicably exposed. She was looking at everything but his face, and her lips pursed like she found something she disapproved of.

"Sooo...what's up?" he tried again, his smile faltering slightly. He half-expected her to scoff, tell him he looked exhausted or that he was in the way. But instead, she just kept staring. A chill ran down his spine. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew one thing for certain: he needed to get out of here, "Well, anyway, I should, uh, probably get going. Long day, you know how it is." He chuckled awkwardly and stepped to the side, making his way past her. Weiss didn't move, didn't say a single word. But he could feel her eyes on him, tracking his every step.

Jaune resisted the urge to look back as he continued down the hall, his pace just a little quicker than before. That was strange, he thought, his brow furrowing. He shook his head. She was probably still annoyed about the maid thing, but it wasn't any of her business. Crush or not, she didn't get to judge him on how he made lien when she had a (generous) allowance every month. Not everyone could have SDC money, Snow Angel.

He had no idea how much he was gonna eat his words soon.

[line break]

The next day, Weiss sat primly in the back room of the quaint little maid cafe, her posture perfect, her expression cool, and her fingers lightly intertwined over the table before her. The dimly lit break room smelled faintly of coffee, cleaning supplies, and sugar, a stark contrast to the crisp professionalism Weiss exuded. It was an utterly mundane setting, unbefitting of a Schnee, but Weiss carried herself as if she were presiding over a high-stakes business negotiation.

Which, in her mind, she was.

Across from her sat the cafe's manager, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, her uniform slightly more elaborate than the standard maid attire, marking her authority. She was a shrewd-looking woman, eyes sharp and calculating, the kind of person who had long since learned to read people like open books. And right now, she was reading Weiss like a bestselling novel. Weiss wasn't foolish enough to underestimate her despite her looks.

"So," the manager hummed, leaning back in her chair, one eyebrow arching in amusement. She swirled the cup of tea in front of her lazily, though Weiss suspected the casual demeanor was entirely an act. This woman had smelled blood in the water the moment Weiss had walked in and asked to "discuss the employment status of one of your staff."

"You're interested in Juliette's time, is that right?" the manager continued, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

Weiss pursed her lips, "Yes," she said simply, her tone professional. She would not be rattled.

The older woman's lips curled into an amused smirk, "Ah," she purred, tilting her head, "So you've taken a liking to our precious Juliette, have you?"

Weiss stiffened, her spine ramrod straight, "It is not a matter of liking," she corrected, voice clipped, "I simply believe there are certain...disciplinary measures that must be taken." Jaune needed to understand that actions had consequences. The rational part of her mind told her that he wasn't doing anything wrong, but she stamped it out. He'd...He'd offended her by acting like such a fool. She couldn't rest until she paid him back for that.

The manager took a sip of her tea, her smirk deepening, "Disciplinary measures, is it?" she said, her tone light and teasing, "My, my. I didn't realize our dear Juliette had been so naughty."

Weiss's eye twitched, "That is not- " She exhaled sharply, reigning in her irritation, "Nevermind. The point is, I require their time this evening, and I am willing to pay for it." She wouldn't let herself be rattled. This was a transaction, nothing more."

The manager hummed, tapping a manicured nail against her teacup, "That's quite the request. Juliette is one of our most...popular maids. I can't say I'm eager to part with her services so easily."

Weiss barely kept her expression from twitching. Popular? She highly doubted that. Jaune had only been here for a day or two. This woman was playing up his value. It was a classic business move: inflate the worth of the asset before discussing cost. Tch. Amateurish.

Still, Weiss wasn't about to back down. She had come prepared, "I am, of course, willing to compensate you for your trouble," Weiss said smoothly, reaching into her coat and pulling out her wallet. From within, she withdrew her sleek platinum SDC-branded credit card and set it delicately on the table between them.

The manager's gaze flickered down to it for only a second, but Weiss caught the subtle shift in her demeanor. Hook set, and she was biting, "Hm," the woman mused, sipping her tea, "You're very serious about this."

"I would not be here if I weren't," Weiss said plainly, tilting her chin up ever so slightly, "I require Juliette's services for the evening. I imagine it should be a simple transaction."

The manager smiled, the kind of smile that belonged to a seasoned predator, "Oh, dear," she said, voice laced with exaggerated sympathy, "If only it were that simple. You see, Juliette is special. I can't just let her go for cheap."

Weiss fought back the urge to scoff. This woman wasactually trying to haggle with her. It was almost insulting. But, she wouldn't let herself be drawn into a petty dispute over price. If there was one thing Weiss understood better than most, it was negotiations. Her Father may have been a bastard of a human being, but he'd taught her things that proved useful in life. Negotiations were just one of those things.

She folded her hands neatly atop the table, "Then let's talk numbers."

The manager's grin widened ever so slightly, "Oh, I like you," she said, setting her cup down with a small clink. Weiss barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course she did. She saw her was as a lien card with legs. The manager leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand, "Now, you must understand...Juliette is something of a rarity. Her charm, her grace, her ability to captivate customers - it's not easy to find someone like her."

Weiss took a slow, measured breath through her nose. She is talking about Jaune Arc. Jaune. Arc. Jaune, who tripped over his own feet on a near-daily basis. Jaune, who was so painfully dense he had no idea Weiss had spent the better part of an entire evening thinking about him. Jaune, who somehow managed to look good in a maid outfit, and whose voice, when pitched high enough, was annoyingly convincing.

Jaune, who she wanted to use said voce to cry and call her Mistress.

Weiss pushed those thoughts aside. That was irrelevant to the matter at hand. She forced a neutral expression, "I highly doubt Juliette's presence is so critical to your operations that you cannot spare her for one evening. Name your price."

The manager hummed, eyes twinkling with mischief, "Well...considering Juliette's...skills, I'd say-"

Weiss tapped her credit card against the table lightly, "I don't have time for games. If you're going to name an outrageous price just to test my patience, don't." Her smile was cold, "We're both professionals here, so I say again: name your price."

The manager chuckled, but Weiss saw her shoulders relax slightly, as if finally realizing she wasn't just dealing with a spoiled little rich girl who had more money than sense,. She tapped her nails against the table, thinking, "Fine, then," the manager said at last, a smirk tugging at her lips, "For an entire evening? Well..." She rattled off a figure with a number of zeroes that would've made most people walk away immediately without even trying to haggle.

Weiss didn't even blink, "Done."

The manager let out a small laugh, clearly having expected more pushback, "You really are serious," she mused, "All right, Miss Schnee. You've got yourself a deal."

Weiss slid the card across the table, "Charge it." The manager took the card with a pleased smile and stood, already heading to process the payment. Weiss sat back in her chair, exhaling quietly as she straightened her gloves. There, all taken care of. Jaune had absolutely no right to complain now. He was, for all intents and purposes, hers for the evening. Her maid, to be precise. And she would make sure he understood exactly why his foolishness had consequences.

Not because she wanted him in that maid outfit again. Certainly not because she'd spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about how he looked in it. This was simply about teaching him a lesson. Yes. That was all this was for. A lesson.

Weiss never did anything without a clear purpose. And that purpose had absolutely nothing to do with how flustered she felt just thinking about what was to come.

[line break]

Jaune arrived at the cafe the next afternoon, still feeling the residual awkwardness from everything that had happened with Pyrrha. He wasn't thinking about it. He wasn't. It was just a partner thing. Just something good friends did for each other. He helped her out, she got what she needed, and now life could continue like normal.

...Right?

He shook off the lingering weirdness and stepped inside, offering a sheepish wave to the other maids on shift before heading to the back to get changed. He wasn't exactly excited to be back at work, but after the absolute madness of yesterday, he figured a simple shift as Juliette would be downright relaxing by comparison. Just some tea, some fake smiles, maybe a few ketchup hearts. Nothing too stressful. Especially if his friends made sure to stay away.

He was halfway through tying his apron when the manager poked her head into the dressing room,"Ah, Juliette! Perfect timing."

Jaune turned, eyebrows raising, "Uh, yeah? Something up?" He was still wary of the manager considering she just watched Pyrrha kidnap him like some kind of maniac. Sure, it was just a partner thing, but she didn't know.

The manager smiled a little too brightly and folded her hands in front of her, "You've got a special assignment today."

Jaune blinked, "A what?"

The manager waved a hand dismissively, "A personal client."

Jaune frowned, "Personal client?" That was new. Normally, he just worked the floor like everyone else, taking tables and performing whatever ridiculous services were requested. The closest he'd come to 'personal service' was when some lady had wanted him to feed her cake piece by piece, which had been horribly awkward, but still technically part of his job.

"Yup! A very special one," the manager said, her tone light and breezy in a way that immediately set Jaune on edge.

"...Okay," Jaune said slowly, "Who is it?"

The manager chuckled, waving a finger at him, "Ah-ah, no spoilers, Juliette. You'll find out soon enough."

Jaune's frown deepened. Something about this didn't feel right, "But-"

"Now, now," the manager cut him off, stepping forward and adjusting the bow on his apron, "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Just put on that sweet smile of yours and do your best."

Jaune stiffened at the phrasing. That didn't sound good, "Look," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Can I at least get some details? Like, where am I going? What am I doing? Is this just a normal thing or...?"

"Oh, it's very normal," the manager assured him with an innocent smile that was definitely not innocent, "Just think of it as a private session. A client was very interested in having our Juliette all to themselves for the evening, and they paid quite handsomely for the privilege." Themselves? He didn't like how she kept even the client's gender secret. Most people who went to places like this were guys, but there was a growing female customer base in recent years.

Jaune shifted from one foot to another, "Wait. Someone paid for this?"

The manager beamed, "Oh, absolutely. And let me tell you, they spared no expense."

Jaune paled. That didn't sound promising. That didn't sound promising at all, "I, uh, don't know how I feel about this," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

The manager gave him a playful nudge, "Oh, relax, Juliette. You're going to be fine. It's just one evening. Just put on your best maid persona, bat those lashes, and go with the flow. You're going to make us both a lot of money!" Jaune groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Why did it feel like he was walking into a trap? "Oh, and one more thing!" the manager added, just as Jaune was about to protest again, "Don't forget the outfit! It's crucial."

Jaune flinched, "I already figured, but should I even ask why?"

The manager gave him an amused look, as if he were being particularly slow, "Because it's what the client wants."

He opened his mouth to argue, but the manager was already turning on her heel and waving him off, "Hurry up and get ready! You wouldn't want to disappoint them, would you?" And then she walked off before Jaune could get another word in. The blonde's shoulders sagged. Maybe he should've gotten another job...

Hours later, Jaune walked through the streets of Vale, his hands clutching the hem of his maid skirt as he tried to keep his head down and move quickly. The less attention he drew to himself, the better. Unfortunately, that plan was failing miserably.

It wasn't like he wasn't used to being stared at while wearing the outfit - he worked at a maid cafe, after all. Still, there was a huge difference between getting ogled in a controlled environment where he could awkwardly laugh it off and getting catcalled in the middle of the street by complete strangers. There was a reason he changed in and out of his uniform in the cafe itself rather than going down from Beacon like that.

And the weird part? It wasn't just guys.

A group of women passed him not ten minutes ago, giggling behind their hands before one of them had audibly whispered, "Damn, those legs..." while another whistled. He hadn't even known what to do in that situation. What was the proper etiquette for being checked out by women while crossdressing? Why didn't he have this much luck when he was out in his regular outfit? Wasn't armor sexy? And he had a cool hoodie too! Come on!

He shuddered, hurrying his pace. Focus, Jaune. Just get to the hotel. Do the job. Get out.

The manager hadn't given him any details about his client, but from the sheer fanciness of the place, they had to be loaded. The hotel in question was one of Vale's premier luxury establishments, the kind of place reserved for high society types and people with more Lien than they knew what to do with. The lobby alone looked like it belonged in a palace. Gleaming floors, chandeliers, and a live pianist(!) playing soft music near the grand staircase. Like, not even at a restaurant, but at the freaking lobby. This place screamed 'money to burn'.

Jaune tried not to feel incredibly out of place as he walked up to the front desk. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, looked him up and down the moment he approached. Her expression was flat, suspicious, "Can I...help you?" she asked slowly, her tone suggesting she didn't think he belonged there.

Jaune cleared his throat, standing up straighter and doing his best to sound professional while still masking his voice, "Uh, yeah. I'm here to see someone in room...1308?"

The woman's expression barely changed, but he saw the moment it clicked. Her eyes flickered with understanding, and her mouth curled into the faintest smirk, "Ah," she said simply, before reaching under the desk and pulling out a keycard.

Jaune frowned, "That's it? You don't need to ask who I am or-"

"Nope," she said, sliding the card across the counter, "Enjoy your night, Miss Juliette." Jaune hesitated. Something about her tone made him uncomfortable. She was definitely assuming something about this situation that he really didn't want to dig into.

Swallowing his unease, he grabbed the card and quickly made his way to the elevators.

He spent the ride up trying to steel himself. Whoever this is, just smile and go along with it. It's just one evening. He adjusted the frills on his apron, exhaling slowly. Besides, they paid good money for this. How bad could it be? He arrived at the thirteenth floor, stepping into the long, carpeted hallway. The lights were dimmer up here, adding an odd sense of intimacy to the atmosphere. He counted the doors as he walked. 1304, 1306, 1308...

Jaune stopped in front of the door, staring at the number for a moment. His stomach twisted slightly.

He raised his hand, hesitating before knocking lightly. A moment passed.

"Come in," a voice called from inside. A very familiar voice.

Jaune froze. No way. Swallowing thickly, he pressed the keycard to the scanner, hearing the soft beep as the lock released. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. The suite was absurdly luxurious, all plush furniture and ambient lighting, with a grand view of the city skyline stretching out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. But Jaune barely registered any of that.

Because sitting elegantly on the massive, velvety bed with her legs crossed was Weiss.

Jaune's heart stuttered. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Weiss, for her part, simply met his gaze with an unreadable expression, her eyes cool and assessing. She looked completely composed, as if she were conducting a business meeting rather than waiting in a luxury hotel room for him, of all people.

His thoughts scrambled. His first instinct was to be confused - why was she here? Was she the client? But underneath that, buried beneath the shock, was something else.

Because, holy crap. Weiss was...beautiful. He already knew that, obviously, but seeing her like this, perched so effortlessly on that ridiculously expensive bed, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights. Jaune felt his stomach do a flip.

She'd even dressed differently from her usual prim and proper ensemble. Gone was the bolero and the stiffly formal dress she always wore. Instead, she was draped in a white silk dress that shimmered under the room's soft lighting, the delicate fabric clinging to her form in a way that felt almost deliberate. The straps of the dress crossed elegantly around the sides of her slender neck, drawing attention to the smooth, pale skin of her shoulders. It was sleeveless too, exposing the graceful lines of her arms. Toned, but not overly so. Weiss wasn't built like Pyrrha or Yang, but there was undeniable strength there, a lean definition that only enhanced her refined beauty. She'd worked for her figure. Every inch of her exuded discipline and grace.

And her legs...

Jaune swallowed thickly, his eyes betraying him as they drifted lower. The slit of the dress rode high along her thigh, effortlessly showcasing the long, creamy expanse of her legs. Despite her short stature, Weiss was never lacking in that department. They were just as toned as the rest of her, shaped by relentless training but still soft enough to be undeniably feminine. They looked flawless, smooth, and so impossibly enticing that his brain nearly short-circuited on the spot.

Jaune's breath caught in his throat.

She looked...incredible.

His mouth went dry and his heart hammered in his chest. She was the last person he was expecting, "...Weiss?" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

She simply tilted her head slightly, lips curling into something between a smirk and a challenge. He barely noticed the slight, tasteful makeup she wore. He was too focused on everything else about her. She switched which leg was over the other - right to left - and said her next words in a slow whisper.

"Close the door, Juliette."

Jaune hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping back and slowly, almost mechanically, pushing the door shut. The soft click of the lock echoed louder in his ears than it should have, sealing him inside the lavish suite with Weiss. He turned back toward her, heart hammering in his chest, "S-so, um..." he swallowed, his fingers tightening slightly around the frilly hem of his maid skirt, "You're my...client?"

Weiss didn't move,d idn't shift, didn't fidget the way people normally did when caught in awkward situations. Instead, she remained him composed, watching him with the same level of scrutiny one might expect from a royal inspecting their newly acquired property, "That's right," she said smoothly, the confirmation striking Jaune square in the gut.

His breath caught in his throat, his body tensing ever so slightly. Weiss had paid for him. Him. Jaune Arc, the guy who she didn't give the time of day to less than a week ago. The words hung heavy in the air between them, the weight of them pressing against his chest. This was real. This was happening. He'd been hired not by some eccentric rich lady looking for a servant for the evening, not by some stranger with money to burn, but by Weiss.

The girl he had a crush on. The girl he'd chased around Beacon's courtyard like an idiot on his first week. The girl who normally regarded him with thinly veiled exasperation or outright disdain. The last person he would have expected to pay any amount of Lien for his time. And yet, here she was. Sitting there, looking for all the world like a queen on her throne, dictating terms.

"U-uh," he stammered, forcing his thoughts into some semblance of coherence, "Wait. Wait. H-hold on a second. You actually- I mean, you paid for me?"

Weiss' expression didn't change. She just tilted her head slightly, her cool blue eyes regarding him with something that sent a chill down his spine, "That's correct."

Jaune swallowed again, his pulse thrumming in his ears, "O-okay. And...why?"

Weiss exhaled lightly, a sigh that was more irritation than exhaustion, "Because I can." Her lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in the smirk that followed, "And because you need to learn that your actions have consequences."

Jaune blinked rapidly, his brain latching onto those last few words, "C-Consequences?"

Weiss nodded, her posture still impossibly poised, "Yes. You parading yourself around in that outfit. Making a spectacle of yourself. Drawing the wrong kind of attention." Her eyes flickered over him, a sharp, assessing glance that made him feel weirdly exposed, despite the fact that she wasn't saying anything particularly...suggestive. Her eyes trailed down his body and lingered at the small space between the edge of his sirt and thigh-high stockings.

Jaune's face burned, "I wasn't parading mysel-"

"Oh, weren't you?" Weiss interrupted smoothly, her voice dropping just a fraction, "I distinctly remember you wearing that ridiculous uniform with a bit too much confidence." She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed, "Traipsing around like you owned the place, shamelessly bending over and calling people mistress with that high voice of yours...

Jaune flinched, "It - it's part of the job! And I wasn't bending over!"

Weiss hummed, unconvinced, "Regardless, I think it's time you learned a lesson. So, I bought you."

Jaune's stomach flipped, "B-Bought me?"

Her smirk widened just slightly, "For the next few hours, you belong to me."

Jaune forgot how to breathe. His heart practically leapt into his throat at the sheer bluntness of the statement. You belong to me. She said it like it was just a fact, like saying the sky was blue or that Nora could see beyond the borders to things man wasn't meant to know. His entire body locked up, every single part of him unsure of how to respond to that. The sheer boldness, the absolute certainty in her voice, made him feel lightheaded.

Jaune's brain tripped over itself trying to react, "I- uh- wait, what?"

Weiss' expression remained infuriatingly composed, "Is that a problem, Juliette?"

Jaune stiffened, the name making him twitch. The way she said it was loading with meanining. He tried to speak, but at this point, he could barely form workds.

Weiss sighed again, feigning boredom as she reached for a cup of tea sitting on the nightstand beside her, "Honestly, Juliette, you act as though I've asked you to do something completely outrageous." She took a sip, her every movement controlled and deliberate.

Jaune stared at her like she'd just spoken in another language, "Y-You literally bought me."

Weiss placed the teacup down with a soft clink, her eyes narrowing slightly, "And? Do you not work at a cafe where people pay for your service?" Her tone was razor-sharp, cutting through his panic like a knife, "This is hardly different. You sell your time and body to anyone who pays. In this situation, that means me."

Jaune looked away, " It feels different..."

"Well," Weiss said, tilting her head slightly, "Feelings are irrelevant." She leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough for the room's lighting to catch on the cool sheen of her gaze, "The fact of the matter is, you accepted the job. You willingly agreed to be rented out for the evening." A pause. Then, with the slightest smirk: "Are you going to back out now?"

Jaune's throat bobbed, his entire body locking up as the weight of everything crashed down on him. Weiss had paid for him. Had specifically requested him. In any other situation, he would've been over the moon. Weeks he'd spent trying to ask her out. Movies, dinner, even just a walk in the park. And every single time, she said no. Now she'd hired him out to...what? This was a private room. Was she expecting him to serve her tea and massage her shoulders?

The crossdressing maid swallowed thickly, his body stiff as he stared at Weiss sitting there so effortlessly on the plush bed. The heiresses' expression was poised, her confidence completely unwavering as she looked him in the eyes. He still couldn't wrap his head around the situation. She paid for him and wanted to 'punish' him? And now she was staring at him like she'd already decided what was going to happen next.

His throat bobbed as he forced himself to find his voice, "...What do you want with me?" he asked carefully, half-afraid of the answer.

Weiss smiled. A slow, sweet, utterly mischievous smile that sent a strange chill down his spine. It wasn't her usual condescending smirk or her haughty, unimpressed expression. It was something softer, more deliberate, but infinitely more dangerous, "I simply want to show you," she said, her voice laced with a sickly-sweet politeness, "The consequences of your terrible behavior."

Jaune's brows furrowed in confusion, "My...what?" His hands instinctively fidgeted with the frills of his apron, "What does that even-"

"On your knees, Juliette," Weiss interrupted smoothly, her tone as light and natural as if she were instructing someone on the proper way to pour tea.

Jaune froze. His brain took a full second to register what she'd just said, "...W-What?"

Weiss exhaled softly, like it took everything she had to not just force him down. She gestured downward with one delicate hand, "I said, kneel."

Jaune's stomach twisted into knots, "Wait, hold on, why-"

Weiss lifted a brow, "Are you refusing a direct request from your client?" Her tone was dangerous, a sharp edge cutting through the sweetness of her voice, "Because I could easily ask for a refund."

Jaune's body reacted before his brain could catch up. He dropped to his knees, the thick carpet cushioning his descent, but the sheer weight of what he'd just done was enough to make his knees burn. He was kneeling in front of Weiss Schnee. Kneeling. Like a servant before a queen.

Weiss hummed approvingly, shifting slightly where she sat, "Much better." Jaune swallowed hard, his hands resting awkwardly on his thighs as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. His thoughts were still catching up to his actions when Weiss leisurely extended her left leg, her foot hovering just under his chin. The strappy high heel dangled from her foot, the smooth white leather winding around her ankle, accentuating the long, elegant shape of her leg. She waved it slightly under his chin, the motion almost teasing.

"Take it off," Weiss instructed, her voice light and expectant.

Jaune stared at the high heel, then at her, "Excuse me?"

Weiss gave a soft, nearly condescending smile, as if she were pleased by how slow he was, "Take off my shoe." Her tone left no room for argument, "And then kiss my feet."

Jaune felt every nerve in his body lock up at once. He almost - almost - blurted something out. Something about how weird this was, about how not normal this was, about how she couldn't just expect him to do something like that without any explanation. But the moment his mouth opened, he caught the way Weiss was looking at him. Like she was expecting defiance. Like she wanted an excuse to make this harder for him.

Jaune's lips snapped shut.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached out, carefully wrapping them around her ankle. Her skin was warm beneath his fingertips, soft and smooth, yet the weight of her gaze made the action feel infinitely more significant than it should have been. He hesitated for only a moment before sliding the high heel off, exposing her bare foot.

Weiss flexed her toes slightly, as if testing the air, before arching a single delicate brow, "Well?" she asked .

Jaune's heart pounded against his ribs. He had no idea what he was doing, why he was doing this, or how he'd ended up in this situation. It was all supposed to be so simple. Yeah, he was crossdressing in a maid cafe, but that was only because he needed the money for some things. Now he was kneeling in front of his crush like some...servant.

But something about the way Weiss was watching him - calm, patient, expecting - made it impossible for him to do anything but obey. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against the top of her foot.

The moment he did, he felt her shift slightly, her leg tensing just a fraction beneath his touch, "Hm," Weiss mused, tilting her head, her smirk widening ever so slightly, "Good girl." A shudder ran through him at the way she purred the words.

His lips pressed lightly against the top of Weiss' foot again, the warmth of her skin searing against his mouth. The moment lingered, thick with something he couldn't quite put into words. His hands trembled as they rested against her ankle, his breath shallow as he forced himself to process exactly what he was doing.

Weiss, for her part, remained perfectly poised, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. She watched him, her expression unreadable save for the faintest, smuggest hint of satisfaction curling at the corner of her lips. Jaune swallowed hard and pressed another kiss just below her toes, his lips brushing over the delicate arch of her foot. He felt the smallest twitch beneath his touch, a subtle shift in her posture, but she said nothing.

His heart pounded against his ribs, 'Why am I doing this?' he asked himself, even as he trailed his mouth lower, moving past the top of her foot to the elegant curve of her ankle. His lips lingered there, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin, feeling the faintest thrum of her pulse beneath his mouth.

This wasn't normal. This wasn't a regular maid service or just another shift at the cafe. Jaune knew that. He knew how utterly bizarre this situation was. And yet, the worst part - the part he refused to fully acknowledge - was that under literally any other circumstances, he would have been more than happy to do this.

Because it was Weiss. Weiss, who he'd once chased after like a love-struck iodot. Weiss, who carried herself with such sharp, untouchable elegance that he never thought he'd get anywhere near this close to her, let alone be on his knees in front of her, trailing his lips along the curve of her leg. If she'd just asked - if she'd just wanted him in this way - he probably would have melted into a puddle at her feet on his own volition.

But no. She literally bought him, he thought with a flicker of indignation. She paid for him. Like some kind of -

He nearly twitched at the thought, but before he could fully spiral, Weiss shifted slightly, drawing his attention back to the very real fact that he was currently worshiping her legs. He exhaled shakily and kept moving, his lips trailing past the delicate line of her ankle, moving upwards along the smooth skin of her calf. She was warm, impossibly so, and every inch of her felt softer than he'd expected. He tried not to think about how smooth her skin was beneath his lips or about how she smelled faintly of vanilla and expensive perfume.

Weiss hummed in approval, tilting her head ever so slightly as she watched him, utterly composed despite the tension in her body, "You're learning quickly," she murmured, the words sending another rush of heat through him.

Jaune gritted his teeth slightly, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt at the praise, 'Get it together, Arc.' He kept moving, his kisses reaching the sensitive spot just above her knee. His hands, without thinking, slid gently along her thigh, steadying himself as he went higher. Weiss parted her legs slightly, just enough to give him permission to continue, and Jaune's stomach did a nervous flip.

His lips brushed against the inside of her thigh, the heat of her body growing more intense the closer he got. His breathing was shallow, his pulse racing, his mind spinning in all directions at once. He felt like he was being pulled into something - something completely out of his control, something he probably should have resisted, but couldn't.

The worst part? A part of him wanted to keep going. But no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't forget the undeniable truth behind all of this. She paid for this, and no matter how much his body wanted to lose itself in the moment, the thought lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing at him.

If things had been different, if she'd just wanted him without making it a transaction, Jaune knew he wouldn't have hesitated. But this? This was something else entirely.

Jaune was lost in the moment, caught between the burning heat of Weiss' skin against his lips and the nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that this was not normal. That she'd paid for this. That he was being disciplined for - what, exactly? For working a job? For putting on a uniform and playing along with the ridiculous cafe's theme?

He didn't have time to figure it out before Weiss' voice, calm and collected as ever, cut through the haze.

"Stop."

Jaune froze instantly, his breath catching in his throat. He looked up in confusion, eyes flickering to her face for some kind of answer. Weiss hadn't moved much, still sitting regally on the plush hotel bed, her expression unreadable save for the slightest hint of...something. Her chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, her hands resting delicately in her lap, as if she were perfectly unaffected by everything that had just transpired.

Jaune was about to ask what was wrong when he suddenly felt her move.

His whole body jolted as Weiss smoothly lifted her left leg, pressing it firmly against his lap.

Jaune gasped.

Her foot - bare, warm, and dangerously soft - pressed over his skirt, rubbing over the aching hardness that had been building there ever since she'd first commanded him to kneel. The touch, even through the layers of fabric, sent a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine, making his breath hitch. He instinctively tensed, his hands clenching at his sides as a shudder wracked through him, "W-Weiss - "

She silenced him with a single look. He swallowed thickly, barely holding back the whimper caught in his throat as she continued her slow, calculated movement, rubbing the arch of her foot against him, applying just enough pressure to make his cock twitch beneath her touch. Then, in that same cool, composed tone, she gave her next command.

"Take it off. We need to continue your punishment."

Jaune's brain short-circuited. His face burned red-hot, his breath came in shallow gasps, and his entire body felt trapped beneath her gaze. He knew what she was asking. What she wanted. But even in the thick, suffocating air of the moment, he couldn't help but feel the strangest, most ridiculous urge to sigh.

Seriously? Again with the punishment thing? Even with Weiss teasing him like this, with her foot pressing down against his most sensitive spot and making him tremble under her touch, he couldn't help but mentally complain. What was with her? Why was she so obsessed with 'disciplining' him? What lesson was she even trying to teach?

He was literally just doing his job! He hadn't committed some grand offense, hadn't gone out of his way to annoy her (this time), hadn't even talked to her before this whole insane series of events began! And yet, here he was, being punished for...for what? For existing? For wearing a maid dress? For looking good in it?

His mind screeched to a halt. Wait. Was that it? Was she just mad that he'd pulled it off? That he had somehow - against all odds - actually looked goodin something she probably thought should have been humiliating? That couldn't be it...right?

His thoughts were still stumbling over themselves when Weiss' foot pressed down just a little harder, dragging him back into reality with a sharp, shivering inhale. He looked up at her, his face utterly wrecked with confusion, embarrassment, and heat, only to see her staring back with the same unreadable expression, her smirk barely there but all too knowing, "I told you to take it off, Jaune," she murmured, her voice velvety smooth, as if she hadn't just shattered his entire sense of reality, "I still have to continue disciplining you, after all."

Jaune felt his sanity slipping. This wasn't normal...but at this point? He wasn't sure he even cared.

He inhaled shakily as he forced himself to move, his entire body tense as he pushed himself off his knees and stood before her. His fingers trembled slightly as they reached for the hem of his frilly skirt, hesitating for only a moment before tugging it down. The fabric slid past his hips, pooling at his feet in a heap of lace and frills, leaving him standing there in nothing but the maid uniform's stockings, garters, and his underwear.

Or, well...what had been his underwear. Weiss had been very clear about what she wanted.

Jaune swallowed hard, his face burning as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down as well, fully exposing his hard cock. The cool hotel air sent a shiver through his body, his skin hypersensitive, his pulse hammering in his ears as he forced himself to look up at Weiss.

And what he saw made his breath catch.

Weiss was grinning. But not her usual smirk of superiority, not the prim and proper mask she wore at Beacon. No, this was something sharper, something downright predatory.

She didn't say anything at first. She just watched him. Her eyes raked over his exposed form, her pupils dilating just slightly as her lips curled with satisfaction. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she leaned back onto the bed, shifting her weight onto her elbows as she arched her back ever so slightly. The soft lighting of the hotel suite caught against the pale skin of her thighs as she hiked up the hem of her dress, gathering the expensive fabric and pushing it up to her waist, revealing the lacy lingerie that barely covered her.

Jaune sucked in a sharp breath as he watched her lift her hips, her hands slipping under the waistband of her lingerie and slowly dragging it down, peeling the delicate material away and exposing herself to him entirely. Her cleanly shaved pussy seemed to taunt him, and he grit his teeth to stop the urge to get down on his knees again and lick between her legs. He'd done enough of that already, he told himself. And yet, he couldn't deny that the sight before him only made his cock harder.

His throat tightened. His mind blanked. She wanted him. This wasn't teasing anymore. This wasn't some game of power. This was real.

And he knew exactly what she expected from him.

Jaune stepped forward, his body moving on instinct, his hands reaching out to steady himself as he lowered himself over her. His mouth was already parting, his breathing shallow as he-

"Good," Weiss purred, her voice sultry but undeniably smug, "It seems you're finally learning your place." Jaune froze mid-motion, his entire body locking up as his brain screeched to a halt. Weiss hummed approvingly, clearly enjoying the sight of him hovering there, stunned into silence, "It took some effort," she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "But at last, you're beginning to understand the importance of discipline."

Jaune's eye twitched.

Oh my god, she was ruining the moment. He'd just started getting into it, just processed what was happening - that Weiss Schnee wanted him and was openly showing it.

And now she was talking about punishing him? Again?!

Weiss, completely unaware - or worse, completely aware - of how utterly frustrating she was, exhaled softly and shifted beneath him, hooking one leg around his waist to pull him closer, "Consider this your final lesson, Jaune," she murmured, her smirk positively wicked, "A proper consequence for your horrid behavior."

Jaune clenched his jaw, his entire sense of attraction battling against the very real urge to roll his eyes into another dimension. Why the hell did he have a crush on her again...?

The (forced) sexy maid moved inside her, thrusting in and out with steady motions, his body responding instinctively to the overwhelming heat, the impossible tightness wrapped around his dick. It felt amazing - physically, at least. His breath hitched with each movement, pleasure building with every push and pull. It was just like how he imagined she'd be. The warmth of her quim, the smell of her perfume, her voice in his ear...

But Brothers, his heart really wasn't in it. At least when he did it with Pyrrha, it was for a reason. That had been about helping a friend in need, supporting his partner, providing her with relief, even if she'd been weirdly flustered about the whole thing.

But this? This was something else entirely. This was Weiss Schnee. This was 'punishment'. This was some bizarre, incomprehensible power trip that he definitely didn't understand, and at this point, wasn't even going to try to understand. He was literally fucking Weiss Schnee while wearing a maid dress. The sheer absurdity of the situation was making it impossible to focus.

His hands gripped her hips tightly as he moved, his breathing shallow, his skin slick with sweat. Weiss gasped beneath him, her nails dragging lightly over his back, her body arching slightly as she hummed in pleasure. Weiss was (probably) a virgin. Despite how domineering she acted before, he could tell that she wasn't nearly as used to it as she pretended she was. She squirmed with every move he made, and pulling his cock back was a struggle with how tightly her inner walls clung to him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Weiss mumbled, all propietry forgotten. Her nails scratched along his back, her pussy lips trembling around his dick. She was smaller than Pyrrha, and without her heels, he practically towered over her. His girthy cock started to slip in and out with more ease now, his body moving on autopilot. Not that she was on her back with her legs spread, it honestly wasn't that different from the night he shared with Pyrrha.

...At least, that was what he wanted to say.

Jaune's brain was detaching from reality. How had he ended up here? This felt like a fever dream. No. Worse. This felt like the kind of dream he'd jolt awake from in a cold sweat, only to sit up in bed, stare at the ceiling, and mutter, What the fuck was that?

Weiss moaned softly, shifting beneath him, urging him to move faster. He obeyed on instinct, his body responding even as his soul was practically sitting on the sidelines, arms crossed, shaking its head in exhausted disbelief. This should have been everything past-him wanted. Weiss - his Snow Angel - squirming and and begging him to fuck her harder He should have been overjoyed. Instead, all he could think was how he really should have just stuck to his shift.

His hips began to thrust faster. Harder. Maybe if he kept her moaning she wouldn't demand he call her Mistress again, "Yes, yes!" Weiss cried, her legs wrapping around his waist, "Face your- ngh! Face your discipline like a woman, Juliette!" Gods damn it! Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut?

He wasn't going to drag it out. After a few more thrusts, he slammed himself inside her up to the hilt, practically rattling Weiss. The heiress' eyes shot open and she came, staining the silk sheets and his cock in her fluids.

Jaune wasn't so far gone that he was going to do something stupid. Powering through the legs wrapped around his waist, Jaune pulled back and removed his cock from Weiss' cunt seconds before he came. His sement splattered against her stomach and thighs, almost blending into the alabaster skin. She almost looked disappointed that he didn't cum inside, but there was no chance of that. If he did, he'd have to take responsibility, and he did not want to tell any future kids that he met their mother because she bought him while he was crossdressing.

"..So, are we-"

"I hope you don't think we're done." Weiss said. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her pants and she looked up at him through her sweat-matted hair, "I paid for multiple hours, Juliette, and I intend to get my money's worth."

"Can't you at least call me Jaune?" He groaned.

"No. And don't forget, it's Mistress."

Jaune sighed and readied himself for round two.

[line break]

Hours later, Jaune lay flat on his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling, his brain utterly fried. The expensive silk sheets of the hotel bed were soft beneath him, and Weiss' warmth was still pressed against his side, but mentally? He was nowhere near here. He was floating somewhere outside of his own body, watching his past self make a series of incredibly questionable life choices. Not just putting on that damn uniform for the sake of cold, hard Lien, but just having a crush on Weiss in the first place.

This entire night had been a mess. He'd gone from a normal, if slightly humiliating, cafe shift to being bought by Weiss Schnee, forced to grovel at her feet, subjected to some kind of deranged aristocratic discipline session, and then...well. This.

His scroll beeped. Jaune twitched slightly, blinking as he glanced toward the nightstand. The soft glow of his screen showed a simple notification: [Your session has ended. Thank you for your service!]

Oh, thank god. Jaune let out a slow breath, already moving to sit up. He needed to go. He needed to leave before Weiss came up with some new, even more convoluted punishment. He could get dressed, go back to Beacon, take a long shower, and then...never think about this again.

But just as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, Weiss' voice, smooth and unwavering, cut through the air, "I want to extend the session."

Jaune froze. Oh so slowly, he turned his head to look at her. Weiss was sitting up against the headboard, completely composed despite her thoroughly ruined appearance. Her hair was a mess, her face still flushed, her chest rising and falling with even breaths. But somehow, somehow, she still managed to look pristine. Jaune stared at her, "Come again?" he asked dumbly.

Weiss met his gaze, eyes sharp, "I'm extending our session."

Jaune felt something deep in his soul crack, "Why?!" he asked, voice edging toward exasperation, "What else is there to do? You already punished me for..." he waved a hand vaguely, "...Whatever it is you think I did."

Weiss, to his growing horror, smirked, "Oh, Juliette," she said sweetly, tilting her head slightly, "Discipline is a long process. You don't expect to be completely reformed after one night, do you?" Jaune stared at her. A long, tired stare that conveyed the exact depths of his exhaustion. He was about to argue, about to stand up and walk out, when Weiss suddenly reached to the side of the bed, pulled out something from a bag on the floor, and tossed it onto his lap.

Jaune blinked, looking down. It took him a second to process what he was looking at. An Atlesian Specialist uniform. No, wait, a woman's Atlesian Specialist uniform. He squinted, "Uh. Weiss?" He lifted the outfit slightly, inspecting it, "Why do you have this?"

Weiss sat back against the pillows, arms crossed, expression completely neutral, "Because I want you to wear it."

Jaune raised a brow, still holding the uniform in his hands, "...Why?"

Weiss' expression didn't change, "Because."

Jaune gave her a slow, unimpressed look, "Because what?"

Weiss exhaled sharply, looking vaguely irritated that she had to explain herself, "Because I want to discipline you in a new setting."

Jaune's eye twitched, "A new setting?"

Weiss nodded, "Yes." Then, as if she were saying something completely normal, she continued, "For the duration of this next session, I'll be calling you Winter. You'll still be calling me Mistress, of course, but it'll be more than that. I expect praise and lavish worship. You'll be complimenting on a multitude of things. My skills, my progress, and how much better I've gotten at summoning." He almost pointed out that she couldn't summon.

Jaune paused, "Wait," he said slowly, "Isn't Winter the name of your older sister?" Weiss immediately stiffened, her expression frozen. Jaune blinked again, feeling a weird sense that he'd just stepped on something dangerous. His brain did a quick, very concerned calculation, "Wait, isn't she an Atlesian Specialist too?"

Weiss' entire body locked up. Her cheeks, previously a faint pink from their earlier activities, darkened rapidly, "It's just a coincidence," she snapped way too fast.

Jaune stared at her. Weiss stared back, clearly lying through her teeth. The room was silent. Jaune, with rising dread, raised the uniform again, inspecting it with a newfound sense of deep concern, "Uh-huh." He turned the outfit over, "And, uh, where exactly did you get this?"

Weiss sniffed, turning her nose up slightly, "That's not important."

Jaune's eye twitched, "It's kinda really important."

"It isn't." Weiss' voice was firm, as if she could force reality to bend to her will.

"You got this from her closet, didn't you?" She didn't answer. Jaune ran a hand down his face, exhaling, "Weiss."

"Juliette."

He dragged a hand through his hair, trying very hard to process this, "Okay. Okay. So just to be clear, you want me to wear this. Right now. And for the next however many hours-" he gestured vaguely, "-you're going to be calling me your older sister's name."

Weiss' face burned, but her pride refused to let her back down, "Yes," she said simply.

Jaune visibly processed that. Then, in a flat, tired voice, he asked, "Weiss. Do you have a sister complex?" He knew about it, of course. Growing up with seven sisters led to a lot of teasing back home. And for the record, he didn't have one. Unlike weird Atlesians, Valeans had healthy relationships with their siblings. Just look at Ruby and Yang.

Weiss immediately scowled, "Absolutely not."

Jaune nodded slowly, not believing her in the slightest, "Right. Uh-huh." He gestured to the uniform, "This is normal, then."

Weiss huffed, "It is normal. Uniform sex is the most common kink in Atlas." He didn't doubt that, though he didn't believe for a second that it usually involved the uniforms and names of your sisters.

Jaune's lips pressed into a thin line, "Weiss. You paid for me to call you Mistress. You made me thank you for punishing me. You literally bought my time. And now-" he waved the uniform, "-you're making me crossdress again and calling me by your older sister's name. Does nothing about this scream 'weird' to you?" He looked her in the eyes, silently pleading - hoping - that she'd understand that this had gone above even buying one of her classmates and trying to punish them for doing nothing wrong.

Weiss, despite being bright red, refused to falter, "It's part of the discipline." Jaune didn't say a word. She lifted her chin, as if daring him to challenge her logic.

Jaune turned away from Weiss, mentally done with the entire situation. This was too much. Too weird. He'd officially reached his limit of absurdity for the night, and there was no way he was sticking around any longer to entertain whatever deep-seated sister issues Weiss was trying to work through, "Nope," he muttered, shaking his head as he made for the door, "I'm out. I knew I should've just stuck to my shift. Pyrrha was one thing, but this? This is-"

A scroll was suddenly shoved into his face. Jaune went cross-eyed as he stared at the glaringly bright screen way too close to his face.

And then his brain shut down. Because that? That was a lot of zeroes. His eyes flicked down, his focus sharpening as he processed the number in front of him. The exact amount Weiss had typed out as an offer. No words, no hagglign, just a number.

It was...obscene. It was stupid. It was...

...so much money.

This wasn't a normal amount to pay someone for anything. This was criminally excessive, the kind of number only people with 'fuck you' amounts of cash could afford to throw out. This was enough to buy the latest scroll model and still have Lien left over for months. This was practically a bribe from the heavens.

Jaune's mouth went dry. His legs felt weak and he almost collapsed at the list of things he could buy with that cash. He might've even been able to quit this horrible job as long as he was smart about it and made a few investments. He heard Vacuan cheese was doing really well.

Weiss, still holding the scroll in front of his face, tilted her head smugly, "So?" she said smoothly, "What will it be, Winter?"

He almost snapped back at her for that, but the sheer weight of the offer staring him in the face was making it very hard to form words. He looked at the number, then at Weiss, then at the number again. Weiss smirked, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back against the pillows, infuriatingly sure that she'd already won.

Jaune sighed. He hated that she was right, "...Fine," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Weiss perked up. She looked way too excited, "I didn't hear you."

Jaune groaned, dragging a hand down his face, "I said fine. I'll do it."

Weiss' smirk turned into something far too self-satisfied, "That's more like it."

Jaune exhaled, long and slow, trying to remind himself that this was worth it. That he was walking out of this with more money than he'd probably ever see in months working at the cafe. And hey, he was getting paid to fuck Weiss Schnee! That was a good thing, right?

...

Oh, who was he kidding? Nothing about this was hot unless you were a degenerate like Blake. He sighed to himself as he put on the outfit, already creeped out at how it perfectly fit him. Did she have it adjusted? She only found out about his job yesterday! He sighed again and ignored her starry-eyed look. Just a few days ago, he would've given anything to have her look at him like that. Now? He couldn't care less. Whatever crush he'd had on Weiss? Dead. Buried. Never to see the light of day again.

Now all he could think about was milking this for all it was worth. If we was gonna whore himself out, at least he'd get paid well for it.

[line break]

Poor Jaune. He feels so objectified. Oh well, at least he's getting paid well for it. And this chapter has him realize he has a product he can market, so future women will either need to pay up or get out cause he can get free sex with Pyrrha whenever she needs help.

I'll put up a vote soon on the next RWBY girl. Till then, hope you guys enjoyed this one.

Here There Be Pirates (Pirate AU Jaune Harem) - Chapter 1

A comedic RWBY Pirate AU someone commissioned. This one is a harem story that'll have NSFW segments later. Don't expect things to get too serious. The commissioner wanted it to have the tone of Pirates of the Carribean.

Next thing will be Maid Jaune Chapter 3 for Patrons.

[line break]

Jaune had always wanted to be a pirate. Not just any pirate, though. He wanted to be the kind of legendary, larger-than-life adventurer who sailed the seas with an air of freedom so intoxicating that even the most disciplined navy captains secretly wished they could do the same. The kind of swashbuckler who braved the wild ocean, discovered lost treasures, and had a cool nickname like Captain Arc, the Azure Phantom. (Okay, maybe that one needed some work.)

The point was, pirates were awesome.

They weren't just sailors; they were much more than that. They were explorers, trailblazers, rebels who refused to be tied down by the dull rules of the world. While regular folks had to work boring jobs and obey the law, pirates got to live. They got to do whatever they wanted, go wherever they pleased, and take whatever the world had hidden away in forgotten places. Just sailing the seas with nothing tying them down.

That was the dream.

Ever since he was a kid growing up in a quiet little port town, Jaune had felt drawn to the sea. He'd spent hours staring at the horizon, imagining a sleek ship cutting through the waves, its sails billowing dramatically in the wind. While other kids wanted to be Huntsmen - those serious, rule-following warrior types - Jaune had run around with a wooden cutlass, pretending to command a mighty crew, shouting things like "Raise the anchor!" and "Fire the cannons!" at random seagulls.

And honestly? He still wanted to do that, just, you know...for real.

Pirates were heroes.

Okay, sure, the kingdoms liked to call them "criminals" and "outlaws" or whatever, but come on! Who were the real bad guys here? The ones who sat in their fancy castles hoarding gold while people starved? The ones who controlled trade routes and taxed merchants into the dirt? The ones who made up all these boring, arbitrary rules about who could sail where and who could own what? Pirates weren't bad; they were freedom fighters! They took from greedy, corrupt nobles and lived life on their terms!

And wasn't that way cooler than following dumb laws made by people who never even set foot on a ship?

Dad wanted him to take a stable job. Make a living as a farmer, a blacksmith, maybe even a soldier, if he was being really ambitious. And then he'd find a nice local girl and give her a bunch of kids. Just like Dad did with Mom. But Jaune didn't want any of that. He didn't want a long, boring life where he'd sit on some rickety chair 60 years later talking about how all was well. No, he wanted excitement! Adventure! A life of thrills and death-defying exploits!

Jaune could picture it perfectly even as a kid. He could see himself standing at the bow of a magnificent ship, the wind whipping through his hair, the salty spray of the sea cooling his sun-warmed skin. His ship - which would've had a cool name like The Revenge - would be a thing of beauty: fast, sturdy, and bristling with just enough firepower to make sure no one messed with them. His crew would be loyal and brave, a ragtag band of adventurers who followed him not because of rank or pay but because they believed in the thrill of the journey.

And oh, the battles!

Dueling enemy ships under a blazing sunset or raging storms. Cannons roaring, the deck shaking beneath his boots as his crew shouted orders and dashed to their stations. He'd outmaneuver some puffed-up navy captain, swinging aboard his ship with his cutlass in one hand and a rope in the other, landing perfectly and taking down three sailors with one swing (in reality, he'd probably faceplant, but that was beside the point.)

And when the enemy crew realized they were completely outmatched, he'd offer them mercy - because he wasn't some villain. No, he was the kind of pirate people admired. A gentleman adventurer! A legend in the making! The kind of pirate old seadogs whispered in awe about in taverns and young lasses sighed over.

And then there was the treasure.

Jaune didn't care about gold for gold's sake. It wasn't about being rich - it was about the chase. The thrill of tracking down an ancient map, following cryptic clues, and unearthing some long-lost artifact that'd been hidden away for centuries. Maybe it was buried deep in an uncharted island, guarded by traps and puzzles that only the cleverest of adventurers could solve. Maybe it was lost beneath the sea, waiting to be pulled up from the depths, protected by massive sea Grimm that only the bravest captains dared to challenge. Or maybe he had to duel a notorious rival captain in order to get it from his hoard.

Treasure wasn't just money. It was history. Every coin had a story, every gemstone had belonged to someone important, every artifact was a piece of a forgotten past. And Jaune? He loved that stuff.

And okay, fine, maybe he also liked the idea of a little romance along the way.

Because of course a proper pirate needed a love story. That was just how these things worked.

She'd be someone sharp and witty, someone who didn't fall for his charm immediately (but totally would in the end). Maybe she'd be a noblewoman, trapped in a dull, arranged marriage until she saw him and thought, Wow, that guy's amazing. I should definitely run away with him. Maybe she'd be a rival captain, always one step ahead of him until, one day, he finally turned the tables and won not just the treasure but her heart. Maybe she'd be a runaway, searching for freedom just like him, and they'd sail off into the sunset together.

Whoever she was, she'd definitely roll her eyes at his dumb jokes but secretly love them. She'd act unimpressed, but he'd catch her smirking when she thought he wasn't looking. She'd call him an idiot, but she'd still kiss him anyway.

Because that's just how these things worked.

Jaune sighed, resting his chin on his hand. That was the dream. The life he wanted. And yet...here he was, stuck on land, still dreaming. He sighed again. He was wasting time. He'd spent years thinking about being a pirate, but pirates didn't sit around thinking. Pirates did. They took action, seized opportunity, and chased adventure head-on.

And Jaune Arc was definitely going to do that.

...Just as soon as he figured out how.

[line break]

Jaune was a pirate!

...Kind of.

He was technically part of a crew crew, that was true. But was he a sailor? A gunner? A swashbuckling rogue? No, he was...the cabin boy. Which, as it turned out, wasn't nearly as glamorous as he'd imagined. There were no daring sword fights, no treasure hunts, no thrilling high-seas adventures - just a whole lot of swabbing the deck, fetching drinks, and getting yelled at for standing in the way. But hey, everyone had to start somewhere, right?

And really, he couldn't complain too much. He was on an actual pirate ship! The pirate ship! The Beacon, the legendary vessel of Dread Pirate Ozpin himself. The man was a ghost story come to life, the kind of pirate that even the navy spoke about in hushed voices. He was supposedly immortal, or at least impossible to catch, and his ship had outrun, outmaneuvered, and outgunned entire fleets. The rivalry between him and Admiral Ironwood was the stuff of legends!

And now, by some miracle, Jaune Arc was part of his crew.

It was all a bit of a blur, really. One day, he was sitting on the docks, watching the tide roll in, dreaming about adventure. The next, The Beacon had pulled into port, and suddenly, Jaune was standing in front of Dread Pirate Ozpin himself, babbling something about how he'd always wanted to be a pirate and how he was totally ready to join the crew. He'd been preparing for it for his entire life, he told himself, there was no one better!

And the old man had just laughed. Not a cruel laugh, more like an amused one, like Jaune was some scruffy little dog barking at a pack of wolves. He had murmured something under his breath - something Jaune hadn't quite caught - and then just shrugged and said, "Alright."

And that was that.

Jaune had run home, thrown together a bag of supplies, and - because he had zero foresight - immediately snuck out in the dead of night without telling his parents or sisters a single word. He wasn't worried exactly. He'd just...forgotten to do it. He was so excited, come on! Besides, once he became a legendary pirate, they'd totally understand. They'd see his name in the taverns, hear the stories of his incredible exploits, and they'd all be so proud of him.

...Right?

Well, no sense worrying about that now. He was here. He was finally living his dream. He was standing on the deck of a real pirate ship, surrounded by real pirates, sailing toward real adventure. Sure, he wasn't technically a real pirate yet, but that was just a matter of time.

Of course, Jaune had quickly learned that there was a lot less romance to piracy than he thought. The crew wasn't sitting around singing shanties and swapping treasure maps. They were busy, constantly working to keep the ship moving, supplies stocked, and weapons ready. They were disciplined, too - not in the stiff, proper way of a navy ship, but in a way that made it clear they knew exactly what they were doing. Every crew member had a job, and every job mattered. If something wasn't done right, people died.

Which, okay, made sense. A ship was basically a floating town, and if one person slacked off, it made life harder for everyone else. It wasn't just adventure and glory, there was real responsibility involved. Everyone had a role to play. Sun was almost always at the crow's nest keeping an eye on things; Neptune (who was afraid of water, puzzle that one out) kept an eye out for any leaks and hull breaches; Nora kept every cannon loaded and ready to fire; and Ren made sure that they had something good to eat every night (and didn't die of scurvy). And that wasn't even mentioning the other crew members he'd only known in passing.

And Jaune? Well...he was the least responsible person on board.

It wasn't his fault! He was new and he was still learning! Sure, he'd tripped over the ropes and nearly sent half the rigging crashing down. And sure, he'd accidentally spilled Ozpin's tea three times in one day. And yes, maybe he'd forgotten to tie down a barrel properly and it had rolled across the deck, knocking over three sailors like a very unfortunate game of bowling.

But he was improving!

...

Probably.

...

Maybe.

Okay, he had to improve. Because as much as he admired the crew, he could tell they were starting to get real tired of him not pulling his weight. Especially her. Jaune glanced toward the main deck, where she was standing. Glynda Goodwitch, the ship's quartermaster, second-in-command, and the most terrifying woman in all of Remnant. The one person (other than Ozpin) who could order everyone around and expect immediate obedience.

She terrified him.

Not because she yelled or anything. If anything, Jaune would've preferred if she did. Glynda didn't yell. She didn't even get that angry. She just stared at him with those piercing green eyes, looking so disappointed every time he messed up and giving Ozpin those little questioning looks, as if she was silently asking 'why did you let this boy aboard the ship?' It was worse than yelling.

She was calm, collected, and impossibly graceful, like she'd been born on a ship. She moved through the deck like a sea goddess, never once losing her balance no matter how hectic the waves and wind got. She also handled a cutlass with such casual ease that Jaune was pretty sure she could take out an entire enemy crew on her own. Glynda barely spoke, but when she did, everyone listened.

And, worst of all? She was cool. Like, amazingly cool. The kind of cool Jaune had dreamed about being. The second-in-command of the most notorious crew in the four seas with awesome nicknames to boot. The Sea Witch, the Deadly Siren, the Sailor's Doom. And those were just the most well-known ones!

She was a looker too. Domremy was full of the kind of women you'd expect from a port town. Nobody really special. The only one that stuck out the was the governor's daughter, Gwen Darcy, and she was definitely the subject of every hot-blooded young man's fantasy back home; himself included. There was something alluring about the forbidden, and the fantasy of taking a noble's daughter like some dashing rogue was a tantalizing one.

Glynda put Gwen to shame. She was clearly on the older side, but her looks hadn't faded in the least. Her blonde hair was done up in a bun that hadn't frazzled despite the sea air and there were no traces of wrinkles or scarring anywhere on her. The only way he could tell she was older was by the look in her eyes. Windows to the soul and all that.

Then there was her outfit. The purple coat might've looked gaudy on anyone else, but she managed to make it look eye-catching and stylish. Underneath that was a blouse that did nothing to hide her generous bosom and tight leather pants that practically clung to her voluptous thighs like a second skin. Capping off the ensemble was a pair of heeled boots that would've had his mom immediately peg her as someone dangerous. Someone to stay away from.

Then there was him. The cabin boy wearing his dad's hand-me-downs and mom's knitted sweaters. The guy who fetched food, mopped the floors, and made tea. It wasn't exactly how he imagined his heroic journey starting, but hey, everyone had to start somewhere, right? He'd have a presence like her one of these days. He he just knew it.

[line break]

Jaune had wanted adventure. A life of excitement, danger, and intrigue. Now, as he clung to the mast for dear life while cannon fire thundered across the deck, splintering wood and sending shockwaves through his bones, he found himself reconsidering.

This wasn't like the stories. This wasn't some thrilling, dramatic duel where everyone traded witty banter while gracefully clashing blades. This was chaos. Smoke choked the air, filling his lungs with the acrid scent of gunpowder. The deck tilted violently beneath his feet as The Beacon twisted through the waves, maneuvering with almost impossible precision under Ozpin's command. The SDC galleon was massive, heavily armored, and bristling with cannons, but Ozpin and his crew fought like they'd done this a hundred times before. Which, to be fair, they probably had.

And Jaune?

Jaune was trying very hard not to die.

"Get to work, Arc!" Glynda's voice cut through the chaos like a crack of lightning. She was a blur of motion, slicing through ropes with an effortless flick of her cutlass while barking orders at the crew.

"But-"

"Get up and make yourself useful!" she barked before whirling around and deflecting a bullet with the flat of her blade like it was nothing, "If you're not fighting, then help reload the cannons! Move, move, move!"

Jaune scrambled away from the mast, narrowly dodging a flying chunk of wood as another cannon blast rattled the ship. Right. He could do that. He could reload the cannons. That sounded easy enough.

It was not easy. First off, cannonballs were heavy. He nearly threw out his back trying to lift one, and by the time he managed to roll it toward a gunner, Ren had already fired twice. Neptune was moving between stations, quickly checking for damage, while Nora cackled like a maniac, gleefully loading the cannons with a speed that really should've been illegal and yelling something about how 'this is why you always keep an extra keg of black powder!'

"Fire in the hole!" she roared, slamming the fuse down before Jaune could even brace himself. The cannon fired with a deafening BOOM, nearly knocking him off his feet. He barely had time to flinch before she was already onto the next one, "Less gawking, more loading, landlubber!" She fired again, not even flinching at the sound or caring when the cannon practically slammed into her when she fired it. He knew that her and a few others had Aura, but seeing it himself was still humbling.

Jaune rushed to obey, dragging another cannonball into place while the ship rocked violently. He had no idea how long the battle lasted. His sense of time had dissolved into a haze of shouting, gunfire, and pure, unfiltered terror. Swords clashed, men screamed, and fire bloomed from the impact of another cannon blast. Somewhere above him, Sun let out a whoop, swinging from a rope to kick an enemy sailor straight into the ocean.

But eventually, finally, the SDC galleon began to sink. The crew erupted into cheers as the enemy was swallowed by the depths. Jaune, shaking and still clutching a cannonball, let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead!

Across the deck, Ozpin climbed onto the guard rails, effortlessly balancing as if standing on the edge of a moving ship during a storm was the most natural thing in the world. He held his cutlass at his side, his coat billowing dramatically in the wind as he surveyed his victorious crew, "Victory!" he said, raising the cutlass to the air. Everyone, Jaune included, cheered and roared, still high from the battle that had barely finished.

Jaune heart soared with admiration. This was it. This was what he had dreamed of. The legendary Dread Pirate Ozpin, victorious once again, about to give a rousing speech that would go down in history. The salty breeze, the scent of gunpowder in the air, the thrill of triumph - this was what being a pirate was all about!

And then Jaune tripped.

It happened so fast. One moment, he was stepping forward, wanting to actually feel the moment, the next, his foot caught on a discarded rope, and -

Whump.

Jaune slammed into Ozpin's legs. The Dread Pirate teetered, the crew gasped, and then...the legendary, impossible-to-catch, feared-by-all Dread Pirate Ozpin...fell overboard.

...

Oops?

Jaune stood frozen, staring at the spot where Ozpin had vanished beneath the waves. The water was dark, churning from the battle, but any second now, the old pirate would resurface, maybe even swim back up with that knowing little smirk of his. Jaune would get a hiding for ruining his moment, sure, but the old man would realize that it was a all a big accident and the whole crew would look back on it all with smiles and laughter.

...Right?

A few seconds passed and Ozpin didn't surface. There weren't even any bubbles. Jaune felt his stomach drop into his boots, "Uh," he said, his voice a little higher than normal. He turned to the crew, half-laughing, half-panicking, "He's Dread Pirate Ozpin! He'll be fine, right?"

No one answered. The crew just stared.

Glynda sighed. Not an angry or grieving sigh, just annoyed. Like she wasn't getting paid enough to deal with this, "You just killed Ozpin."

Jaune screamed, "HOW?!" The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop them, his brain short-circuiting under the sheer insanity of the situation. He tripped. Tripped! That wasn't supposed to kill anyone! Ozpin was one of the most feared pirates in the four seas! He'd fought entire fleets! He'd escaped the inescapable! He was practically immortal! The entire kingdom of Atlas, and especially Jacques Schnee, practically shit itself whenever he was even rumored to be in their waters.

And now he was just gone?!

Glynda met his wide, panicked eyes with the utmost seriousness, "Ozpin can't swim."

Jaune's mind went blank, "HE'S A PIRATE!"

Glynda shrugged, seemingly unbothered, "Yes."

"WHO CAN'T SWIM?!"

"He never needed to before now," she said simply, as if this was some great wisdom Jaune was too dumb to understand. Like expecting a pirate lord to be able to swim was some impossible ask. Jaune made an incomprehensible noise of pure horror. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. This had to be some kind of elaborate test, right? Any second now, Captain Ozpin would pop back up and laugh it off. Glynda would shake her head in exasperation then everything would go back to normal.

A moment of silence passed. Then Glynda straightened, dusted off her coat, and said, with absolute finality, "By the rule of the ship, you are captain now."

Jaune died. Not literally. But spiritually, mentally, in every way that mattered. His entire soul collapsed in on itself like a sinking ship as those words hit him like a broadside cannon blast. This wasn't how he wanted to be the captain of his own ship! "H-Hold on!" He waved his arms, feeling lightheaded, "I- no- there's gotta be some mistake! I can't be captain! I've been here for a week! I don't even know how to tie proper knots! I-I trip over my own feet!"

Glynda stared at him, unimpressed, "Yes, we've noticed."

Jaune felt the sweat rolling down his back, "Someone else should be captain! What about you?! You're the quartermaster, isn't that basically second-in-command?!"

Glynda crossed her arms, "And, as quartermaster, I am the one who enforces the ship's rules. And the rule states: 'If the captain is defeated, the victor shall take his place." She paused, "This is...unorthodox, but the rule still stands."

"Why is that a thing?!"

"It happens more often than you'd think."

Jaune's heart was hammering in his chest. He looked around at the crew, desperate for someone to say, haha, just kidding! We're totally messing with you! But no. Everyone was just watching him, waiting. Waiting for him to take command. His vision swam and every shallow breath came out in a frantic gasp. In all the ways he'd imagined gaining a ship and a loyal crew, accidentally killing the old Captain and taking his place definitely wasn't a scenario that came to mind.

Jaune gulped and took a very subtle step back, scanning the faces around him. The crew wasn't exactly hostile, but they weren't not hostile either. There were a lot of unreadable expressions, and he really didn't like how some of them were looking at him. Sure, a bunch of people didn't make it through the battle - piracy was a dangerous business, after all - but some of these guys might be thinking, hey, if we lost one captain today, what's one more?

He side-eyed Sun, who was casually twirling a knife between his fingers. A big knife. Way bigger than it needed to be. Sun caught his gaze and grinned, sharp canines flashing in the lamplight. He flipped the knife and caught the hilt with his tail

Okay. That was not reassuring.

He shifted his eyes to Neptune, who had a perfectly neutral expression. Too neutral. Like a man playing cards and holding a very good hand. Neptune was always cool - the ladies man with countless stories about having a girl in every port. But Jaune had read enough adventure novels to know that the cool ones were the most dangerous. You never saw them coming. One second, they were smiling and telling stories while they put an arm around your shoulder. Then suddenly, you two knives between your ribs.

There was also Ren. Ren, who was impossible to read on a good day. Right now, he was just wiping down his cutlass, completely calm, like they hadn't just lost their captain five minutes ago. Jaune swallowed hard. Did he know something Jaune didn't? Was he planning something? Oh gods, what if he already had a plan?! A little poison in his stew and he'd never see it coming...

And then there was Nora. The orange-haired cannoneer was grinning like she was planning to throw him overboard. Not to take over as the captain, but just to see if he could swim (which he could, for the record, since what kind of pirate didn't know how to swim?!)

Because if anyone would yeet him into the ocean for the sheer chaos of it, it was definitely Nora.

Jaune was going to die. He could feel it. The ship's rule said that if someone killed the captain, then they became the captain. He had no idea if there were sub rules to that like needing to do in front of the whole crew, and right now, he didn't really care. What if he went overboard? Would it pass to whoever threw him off like what happened to him? Would it go to the next highest-ranked crew member? Was there a line for this sort of thing?

He was so close to having a full-blown panic attack when Glynda - who'd been watching his spiraling like a hawk - let out a long, long sigh and grabbed his arm, "Come with me."

Jaune made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a dying cat, "W-Where?"

"To my quarters," she said dryly, already dragging him across the deck, "If you're going to be captain, I refuse to let you make an even bigger mess of things. You're getting a rundown of what the job actually entails before you do something else catastrophic."

Jaune, still giving the crew major side-eye, meekly nodded and let her pull him along. None of them moved to stop him...but Nora winked.

Oh gods, he was so screwed.

[line break]

Jaune sat stiffly in a chair in Glynda's quarters, hands clutched tightly in his lap like he was a schoolboy about to get scolded. Which, honestly, wasn't far from the truth. The room itself was neat and organized, with maps pinned to the walls, stacks of well-maintained logs and charts on the desk, and a single, gleaming cutlass resting within easy reach. The air smelled faintly of ink, parchment, and the salty sea breeze drifting in from the small, circular window behind Glynda's desk. It was a place of business, a place for someone who knew what they were doing.

Jaune did not know what he was doing.

Glynda sat across from him, hands folded neatly on the desk, as she began what could only be described as the most casual explanation of piracy he had ever heard in his life,"As captain, your responsibilities include maintaining the ship, ensuring the crew's morale, keeping up with supplies, and overseeing all major decisions - this includes battle strategy, navigation, and plundering."

Jaune twitched, "Plundering?"

She adjusted her glasses, "Yes. It is, after all, what we do."

Right. Right. Of course. He was a pirate. That was normal. Nothing weird about that. He could handle that.

"You must also maintain our reputation. That means hitting profitable targets, not just any ship we come across. We aren't common cutthroats. We are pirates, not bandits - we take from the corrupt and powerful, not from the common folk. That means SDC ships, kingdom supply lines, and certain trade routes under questionable management."

"Got it."

"Second, keeping up morale. A happy crew is a loyal crew. This means ensuring they're well-fed, well-paid, and entertained. It also means resolving disputes when they arise and making sure no one decides to throw you overboard." Jaune winced at how bluntly she said it. What happened to honor among thieves? "Now, naturally, we have enemies. The SDC, the Atlesian Navy - particularly Admiral James Ironwood. Let's not forget the various bounty hunters, and rival pirates who may try to steal from us. Avoiding capture is paramount. Ozpin was very good at that, so you will need to-"

"Not get thrown overboard?" Jaune said weakly.

Glynda gave him a deadpan look look, "Yes. That." Jaune shrank a little in his chair. She continued, unfazed, "And, of course, our most important duty is ensuring that Sea Witch Salem remains sealed beneath the ocean."

Jaune blinked. Then he blinked again. His hands clenched the edges of his chair as he slowly asked in a very high-pitched, very concerned voice, "I'm sorry, what?!"

Glynda sighed, as if this was the most normal thing in the world, "Salem. The ancient and malevolent entity sealed beneath the waves, whose awakening would spell doom for the four seas. Surely, you've heard the legends? Every child knows the tale."

Jaune's brain short-circuited. His breath hitched. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. This wasn't part of the deal. No one said anything about stopping an actual Sea Witch! He signed up for adventure! For cool sword fights and treasure hunting! Not 'preventing a legendary sea monster from rising and destroying everything!'

He let out a weak, almost hysterical laugh, "Haha. Okay. Okay. Uh, just, y'know, quick question...WHAT?!"

Glynda clearly did not appreciate his tone. She gave him a flat, unimpressed stare, "There is no need to panic."

"No need to- " Jaune sputtered, voice cracking, "No need to panic?! We're talking about some evil sea witch lady who's apparently this close to breaking free and you're telling me not to panic?!"

"She's sealed." Glynda huffed.

"Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better," Jaune said, voice laced with sarcasm and pure anxiety, "Totally not worried at all! Not even a little bit!"

Glynda ignored him, "The Beacon's primary mission is to ensure that the seal remains intact. Ozpin kept a close watch on it, ensuring that no foolish treasure hunters or cultists interfered. It's a simple enough task."

Jaune swallowed thickly, "Okay. Okay. Okay. Let's say, hypothetically, I believe you-"

"You should believe me."

"-what happens if she does wake up?"

Glynda adjusted her glasses, "The seas will boil. The Grimm will rise in uncountable numbers. The kingdoms will fall and all will drown in eternal darkness." Jaune gaped. She continued, "The ones who die first will be the lucky ones. Salem has been aware of every second of her imprisonment. From what Ozpin told me, she will be very bitter if she ever does escape. She'll prolong the agony of anyone she gets her hands on. And as the new captain of The Beacon, I imagine she'll have a particular grudge against you both for your role and for denying her revenge against Ozpin."

Jaune wheezed. Oh Brothers. He was going to have a heart attack. He was going to die before the crew even had a chance to throw him overboard!

Glynda leaned back slightly, as if finally noticing how close he was to fainting. She waved a hand dismissively, "Again. There is no need to worry. Salem has been sealed for centuries. As long as we continue our vigilance and stop any would-be cultists from getting their hands on the key, she'll remain trapped. The key, of course, is at The Beacon itself. There's no better way to ensure its safety. A vault can be picked. A castle can be breached. A ship is much more mobile and powerful.""

Jaune pressed his hands to his face and groaned. He was just supposed to mop the floors.

"I've also noticed-" she said, entirely ignoring his existential crisis, "-that your Aura isn't unlocked."

Jaune blinked, "Wait, my what?"

"Aura." She laced her fingers together and rested them on the desk, "The life force within all living things, capable of shielding the body, enhancing strength, and sharpening the senses. You do know what Aura is, don't you?"

"Huh? Well, yeah, everyone does, but it's not...well, I never had the chance to get it unlocked before," Jaune muttered.

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose and let out the most exhausted sigh yet, "Of course you didn't," she muttered, "Why would Ozpin let an untrained, Aura-less child aboard this ship? I swear, he does this just to irritate me..." She took a deep breath and fixed Jaune with a stern look, "Regardless, this is unacceptable. You are now the captain of the Beacon. You will not be Aura-less. Sit up straight and let's get this over with."

Jaune sat up straighter, still not fully understanding but getting the vague sense that this was about to be important, "Uh...okay?"

Glynda stood, circling the desk with the slow, deliberate grace of someone who had done this before. She reached out, placing one hand against his forehead, the other over his heart.

Jaune barely had time to react before she closed her eyes and began to speak.

"By the tides that guide us, by the wind that fills our sails,
By the stars that mark our passage, by the storm that never fails,
I call upon the sea, as endless as the sky,
To awaken the spirit that slumbers inside.
Rise with the waves, strong and true,
As the ocean's will now flows through you."

As she spoke, Jaune felt something stir deep inside him, like a current pulling at his very being. A soft glow radiated from Glynda's hands, spreading over his skin, filling him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and yet strangely comforting. It was like the first light of dawn stretching across the horizon, like the salt-laced wind rushing through the sails of a ship bound for adventure. The feeling of pure adventure he always imagined in his fantasies as a kid.

Then, with a final pulse of energy, the glow sank into him. Jaune gasped. He felt...different. Stronger. Lighter. Like he'd just taken the biggest, cleanest breath of his life. His heart pounded in his chest. Not from fear this time, but from something else. Something new.

Glynda withdrew her hands, nodding in satisfaction, "There. Your Aura is now unlocked."

Jaune swallowed, flexing his fingers, "I...whoa."

She arched a brow, "Do you feel different?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I don't know what I'm supposed to feel!" He ran a hand over his chest, then patted his face, then tentatively poked his own arm, "I feel...weird. But, like, good weird?" He felt like he could bench press six full barrels of rum at once.

"That's normal," Glynda said simply, "Your Aura will take time to fully settle in with your body. But from now on, you'll heal faster, endure more, and, in time, grow stronger."

Jaune processed this for a moment before he grinned, "So what you're saying is..." He held up his arms, flexing dramatically, "...I'm basically unstoppable now?"

She didn't even blink, "No. More like you're slightly less likely to die immediately. It also won't help you if you're facing someone of equal strength. Or if you're forced to walk the plank and fed to the shark Grimm in the waters below."

Jaune deflated for a second before he quickly perked up again, "Still, that's better than before!"S

Glynda sighed and rubbed her temples, "Why did Ozpin do this to me..."

Jaune, still buzzing from the whole "unlocking his Aura and being told he's now responsible for making sure an ancient sea witch doesn't destroy the world" thing, sat rigidly in Glynda's chair. It was the first time he had actually felt like the captain, sitting in the seat where Ozpin used to lounge so effortlessly.

And now he had to make decisions. Real, actual, important decisions that affected the entire ship. Okay. Okay. He could do this. He just had to think logically. Rationally. Like a captain. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and said with as much authority as he could muster, "We're going to Patch."

Silence.

Glynda blinked, "...Patch?"

Jaune nodded, trying his best to look confident, "Yup. We, uh, did just get out of a huge fight, right? We need supplies, and the ship could use repairs. I mean, sure, I'd love to go after some grand treasure right now, but what good is adventure if we sink on the way there?" He paused, "And we'll probably have to recruit a bunch of new people for the crew. We did lose a bunch of guys in that fight. We don't want the crew pulling off 24 hour shifts, right?"

More silence. Then, after an agonizing pause, Glynda nodded, "Reasonable. Patch is neutral territory, and the shipyards there are reliable. A responsible choice." Jaune almost collapsed with relief. Responsible! He made a responsible choice! He knew he could do this!

Glynda turned on her heel, "I'll inform the helmsman. Get your bearings, Captain." Jaune still wasn't used to being called that, and the moment she left, he let out a long, exhausted breath. Holy crap, he'd actually done it. He made a captain decision. The anxiety from before slowly faded. It hadn't disappeared entirely, but the familiar lust for adventure slowly took over again. Okay, maybe this wasn't how he imagined becoming the captain, but wasn't this a good thing? This was part of his dream!

Jaune nodded to himself. Yeah, everything was gonna be fine!

[line break]

By the time they arrived at the island of Patch, Jaune had fully accepted that this was a good plan. Patch was quiet,at least compared to most islands in the four seas. It wasn't some lawless haven for pirates, nor was it a strict military outpost like the SDC strongholds. It was just a place where people lived. A good resupply point, with skilled shipwrights and a solid dock that didn't ask too many questions. And right now, that was exactly what they needed.

The Beacon pulled into the harbor just as the sun began to set, its golden light reflecting off the water in shimmering waves. The moment the gangplank hit the docks, the crew started filing off, stretching their legs, chatting amongst themselves, already discussing what bars they planned to raid before the night was over.

Jaune, standing at the railing, took a deep breath. This was it. His first time stepping onto land as captain. He straightened his coat (well, Ozpin's coat, which had been handed to him rather than given by choice), squared his shoulders, and took his first confident step onto the docks.

And immediately tripped.

He barely caught himself, stumbling forward with all the grace of a drunk baby deer, but technically, he didn't fall.

Progress.

At least the crew had the decency not to laugh. Well. Most of them.

Sun was definitely laughing. Ren shook his head. Neptune patted him on the back like a disappointed older brother. And Nora? Nora smirked, "Careful, Captain! Wouldn't want to go for a swim like Ozpin!"

Jaune whined, "Too soon, Nora."

Glynda sighed behind him, "Let's just get this over with." Jaune groaned but nodded, leaving the crew to their own devices.

Time to get responsible.

Jaune made his way toward the dockyards, weaving through the busy streets of Patch's harbor district. The scent of salt and woodsmoke lingered in the air, mixing with the chatter of merchants and the creak of ships moored along the piers. It was surprisingly peaceful. No cannon fire, no shouting crew members, and, most importantly, no sea witches. Just a peaceful island where even an infamous ship like The Beacon could go without comment.

He let out a slow breath. Okay. Okay. Things were gonna be fine. Just get the ship fixed, get the supplies, and everything would be okay.

The dockyard itself was bustling with activity. Blacksmiths hammering away at metal fittings, carpenters inspecting wooden hulls, and sailors hauling cargo. Among them, standing atop a pile of crates like she owned the place, was a young woman. She was younger than he expected, short with black and red hair cut in a messy, practical style, and bright silver eyes that practically gleamed in the fading sunlight. Her outfit - a dark long-sleeved blouse, red trousers, and boots - was covered in a thin layer of soot.

She had the kind of energy that made Jaune instantly exhausted just looking at her, bouncing on her heels as she gestured wildly to a pair of dockworkers.

"And I told you, if you reinforce the hull plating with Dust-infused steel, you'll get twice the durability for half the weight! That way, you don't have to worry about impact damage or long-term corrosion!"

One of the workers - an older man with a grizzled beard - rubbed the back of his head, "Ain't that a bit expensive?"

The girl crossed her arms, "Do you want your ship to break apart the first time it hits rough seas? Think of it as an investment! Sure you spend a bit more than usual now, but think on how much you'll svae on repair costs later!"

The dockworker groaned, "Ugh. Fine."

She grinned, "Great! I'll draw up the schematics later-"

"Ruby."

Jaune turned toward the voice and saw a woman leaning against one of the dock posts, arms crossed.

She was tall. Not towering, but almost as tall as Jaune himself, with broad shoulders and well-defined muscles that made it very clear she could snap him in half if she wanted. Her long, golden hair was tied back in a loose high ponytail, and even though she had the same general energy as the girl - Ruby, apparently - there was something sharper about her. Less frantic, more...measured. The sleeveless shirt (which she'd tied up just below her bountfil chest) and shorts gave him a generous view of just how chiseled her arms, legs, and stomach were.

"Don't go overboard again like last time," she said lightly.

Ruby turned with a pout, "That was one time!"

"Twice," the blonde corrected, "Three if you count that one ship that caught fire."

"That was not my fault! That guy had terrible safety precautions! I told him to keep his Dust in better storage, but did he listen? No!"

Jaune, wisely, decided not to ask. Instead, he cleared his throat, "Uh. Hi. I'm Jaune Arc, and my ship needs repairs?"

Ruby immediately perked up, eyes practically glowing as she beamed at him, "You came to the right place!" she declared, hopping down from the crates, "I'm Ruby! Best shipwright in Patch - maybe even the world! I'll get your ship fixed up tip-top!"

Jaune stared. Well, at least she was enthusiastic. The blonde woman sighed, "I'm Yang," she grinned, "Ruby's older sister. I mostly handle security around here and make sure my dear little sister doesn't accidentally set things on fire."

"I told you, that wasn't my fault!"

Jaune found himself exhaling, tension he hadn't even realized was there bleeding out of his shoulders. Okay. These two seemed normal. Not terrifying quartermasters, not overly-serious first mates, not bloodthirsty mutineers, and definitely not Sea Witches. Just a couple of shipbuilders who seemed relatively sane.

For the first time since this whole nightmare started, Jaune actually started to believe things were going to be okay. Everything was gonna be fine.

...Right?

[line break]

One chapter in and Jaune's the captain of his own ship. Not bad. Anyway, the story will be an adventure thing with Jaune slowly amassing more and more (female) crewmates that make The Beacon an unbeatable fortess of the seas. All while getting tangled up in fights against the SDC, Atlesian Navy, and Salem's lackeys.

Question:

1. Which crew member do you guys want to recruit first? Obviously, Ruby and Yang are gonna go first, but afterward the 'sandbox' opens up. The commissioner has final say, of course, but he seems open to feedback. Possible crew listed below:

Weiss Schnee - Heiress to the SDC who's always dreamed of being kidnapped by a dashing pirate. Despite being a noblewoman, she takes to piracy very well. Like, almost scarily so. Schemer with inside knowledge of the SDC.

Pyrrha Nikos - Champion fighter and unbeatable combatant. Her combat skills and her Semblance make her a near-unstoppable force on both the land and sea. Fighter and top of the boarding crew.

Blake Belladonna - Daughter of the Menagerie chieftain. Desires to explore the world and shoots her shot when she gets acquainted by chance with Jaune. Stealth specialist and survivalist.

Penny Polendina - Mermaid who's curious about Human life. Gets a pair of legs from a sea witch (not Salem) and joins the crew. Also ate Humans, but that's technically not cannibalism since she's a different species. Underwater swimmer and saboteur.

Team Rizzless - Volume 1 Jaune Omake, Part 1

V1 Jaune. This one is more comedic and smutty compared to Rusted Knight omakes. Hope you guys enjoy.

[line break]

Jaune Arc had big dreams. Dreams of being a hero, of standing on the front lines of battle with a shining blade and gleaming armor, of vanquishing the Grimm and winning the admiration of his peers (and maybe the love of a certain ice-cold heiress).

The reality, however, was that Beacon was hard.

Not just academically hard; which, okay, he fully expected considering he forged his transcripts and barely knew what Aura even was before arriving. No, it was socially hard, physically hard, and at times, downright terrifying. He'd only ever seen Grimm behind screens; unless you counted the occasional beowolf that the militia dealt with from the walls. He knew they were dangerous - everyone on Remnant knew that - but he figured some armor and a sword meant he'd catch up in no time.

Reality wasn't as kind as that. And that wasn't the worst part.

Weiss still ignored him (and when she did acknowledge his existence, it was usually followed by an eye-roll or a flat-out insult). Pyrrha was way too nice, which just made him nervous because he was pretty sure he didn't deserve it. Nora was nice too, but she had a lot of energy. Ren was great to talk to, but he kept making him chug health drinks. Ruby and Yang were cool, but Ruby was hyperactive and Yang was...intimidating even when she wasn't trying. And Blake? Well, he was pretty sure she didn't know he existed. The last time she had to talk to him, she said, "Hey, you".

The only real reprieve was getting off campus, which was why he jumped on the opportunity to take a Bullhead to Vale for some fresh air. Jaune wasn't an idiot- well, okay, maybe he was kind of an idiot, but not completely. He could tell that his team thought he was useless, even if they were all too nice to say it out loud. Hell, he knew he was useless, but the thing was, he wasn't going to stay useless. He just needed time to catch up. Just like his favorite heroes.

So today's goal was simple: Go to Vale, eat some cheap fast food, maybe practice his sword swings in the park where no one could see him, then go back to Beacon and train in secret. Become a hero.

A flawless plan.

Jaune let out a long yawn as he stretched in his seat, rolling his shoulders and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The soft hum of the Bullhead's engines had vanished, replaced by the faint murmur of voices and the distant honking of a horn. He blinked, still groggy, and looked around. The automated transport had landed.

He groaned and undid the safety harness, "Guess I dozed off..." he muttered, stepping to the exit. He could have sworn the ride wasn't supposed to take that long. He didn't think much of it, though. His whole week had been exhausting. Between initiation, classes, and desperately trying to pretend like he belonged at Beacon, it was no wonder he'd crashed the moment he sat down.

Jaune stepped off the Bullhead and into the landing area with a smile. The city stretched out before him, bustling and lively. Storefronts were lit up, pedestrians moved along the sidewalks, and neon signs flickered in the late afternoon light. A few security drones floated overhead, keeping an idle watch over the city. The scent of grilled meat from a food stall drifted past him, and his stomach growled, "Alright," he mumbled, adjusting the straps of his chest plate, "First stop, go to McDonnels."

He walked down the street, hands in his pockets, feeling himself relax for the first time in days. It was strange how much better the city made him feel. Beacon was amazing, but the constant stress of pretending to be a competent Huntsman-in-training was starting to weigh on him. Here in Vale, he didn't feel like a fraud. No one was watching him, judging his combat skills, or questioning why he didn't know what a 'semblance' was until a week ago.

He could just...breathe.

He passed by a few storefronts, casually peering into windows as he went. He spotted a Dust shop. Not one of the 'From Dust Till Dawn' chains, but one that looked pretty similar. Next to it was a bookstore, and beside that, a clothing shop. Further ahead, a café with outdoor seating.

Nothing out of the ordinary, but something felt...different.

Jaune frowned slightly as he walked, not quite sure what it was. The city looked and sounded the same, but there was...an energy in the air. A weird energy. The people around him - Huntresses, judging by their outfits and concealed weapons - seemed excited about something. Not in a loud or obvious way, but he caught a few of them whispering to each other, shooting glances down the street like they were waiting for something.

He ignored it. Probably just some festival or event he didn't know about.

Then again, he hadn't seen many guys around...

Jaune dismissed the thought. Vale was a huge city - maybe he just happened to be in a part of town where there weren't a lot of dudes. He wasn't about to question city demographics when he was one bad sparring session away from failing out of Beacon.

Food first. Everything else later. He spotted a fast food joint across the street and perked up, "Perfect," he muttered, making his way toward it. So far, so good. Nothing weird. No Grimm attacks, no team drama, no Cardin breathing down his neck. Just a day to himself. He ordered the greasiest, most unhealthy thing he could afford on the menu.

He sat down with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms over his head before digging into his meal. A triple-stack bacon cheeseburger, a large side of fries, and a chocolate shake - an absolute feast for a guy who had been eating cafeteria food all week. It wasn't that Beacon's food was bad, but it wasn't this. Greasy, indulgent, heart-stoppingly delicious. This was the kind of meal heroes deserved after a long week of training, and Jaune was going to savor every bite.

He hummed, closing his eyes in pure bliss as the salty, greasy goodness hit his taste buds. Now this was the kind of meal that made life worth living. He washed it down with a sip of his shake, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before reaching for his fries. For the first time in days, everything felt normal. No pressure, no expectations; just a guy enjoying his food.

Then he heard a voice from outside. A loud, flirtatious, desperate voice.

Jaune's attention shifted to the large front windows, where he could see the street outside. A Huntress - obviously a Huntress, given the weapons strapped to her belt - was chatting up some guy. A civilian, from the looks of it. He was tall, dark-haired, and dressed in a simple button-up and slacks. Looked like an office worker or something. The kind of guy Jaune expected to love the attention of a cool, badass warrior woman.

Except...he didn't look like he was loving it at all.

Jaune slowed his chewing as he watched the scene unfold. The Huntress - tall, blonde, and with muscles that reminded him of Yang - was leaning in close, her expression hungry in a way that made Jaune think of a lion eyeing an injured gazelle. She was doing everything: twirling her hair, batting her lashes, subtly flexing her toned arms to draw attention. Her voice was loud enough that Jaune could hear her from inside.

"So, you free tonight? I know this really nice place- well, my apartment, actually, but it's got great ambiance~"

The guy looked...bored. His expression was flat and unimpressed as he adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, "I'm busy," he said, sounding like he could barely muster the energy to force the words out.

"Oh, come on," the Huntress cooed, stepping in front of him to block his path, "You work so hard, I can tel. Don't you think you deserve a little fun? Some company? A strong, capable woman who appreciates you?"

The guy sighed heavily, "I already have company," he deadpanned, "It's called my couch and a cold beer. Now get out of my way before I file a restraining order."

Jaune paused mid-bite, watching as the Huntress tried desperately to keep the conversation going while the guy visibly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She leaned closer, trying to put a hand on his arm, but he just sidestepped her with a sharp, "Not interested." Then he walked off, not sparing her another glance. The Huntress stood there for a moment, hands clenched into fists, watching him disappear down the street with an expression of complete devastation.

Jaune slowly began to eat again, brow furrowed. Weird. Wasn't this the kind of thing guys dreamed about? Getting hit on by a hot, confident Huntress? He figured most guys would jump at the chance. The guys back home definitely talked a lot about how hot Huntresses were. Hell, he'd been chasing after Weiss for a week with absolutely no luck, and he wouldn't have said no if someone like Yang tried to hit him up. And there this guy was just brushing her off like she was nothing.

Jaune wasn't sure what was stranger: the fact that she'd been so insistent, or the fact that the guy was so annoyed by it. He frowned slightly and popped another fry into his mouth, watching as the Huntress sulked off in defeat.

He shrugged it off and turned back to his food. Just another day in Vale, he thought.

[line break]

Jaune spent the rest of the day wandering around Vale, checking out stores, grabbing snacks, and just enjoying the freedom of being away from Beacon for a while. The whole city felt more alive than the academy. He watched street performers, checked out a weapons shop (though he didn't have the lien to buy anything, or the training to use it), and even considered seeing a movie before realizing he had no idea what was playing.

For the most part, it was a nice, relaxing day, but there were little things that kept nagging at him.

The Huntresses were...odd. It wasn't just the one from earlier. He'd noticed others acting strangely too. Women in combat gear lingering too long outside cafés, openly staring at men passing by. Conversations that would start off normal but quickly devolve into awkwardly aggressive flirting, always with the guy trying to leave while the Huntress tried to keep him there. He'd seen one woman in full Huntsman attire straight-up offer a guy money to go on a date with her.

And through it all, not a single guy accepted.

But it wasn't until he tried to head back to Beacon that things got really weird.

Jaune arrived at the bullhead docks just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The automated transports were lined up along the platforms, engines humming softly as passengers boarded. He let out a relieved breath and approached the ticket counter, reaching for his scroll, "One ticket to Beacon, please," he said, flashing his student ID.

The guy behind the counter, a tired-looking middle-aged man with graying hair, barely glanced up from his scroll, "Docks are closed for visitors," he said in a monotone voice.

Jaune blinked, "What? No, I'm not a visitor, I'm a student. I came from Beacon earlier today."

The man finally looked up, giving Jaune a slow once-over. His eyes flicked over the hoodie, the jeans, the lack of any kind of visible weapon. Then he sighed through his nose, rubbed his temple, and said in a tone dripping with exhaustion, "Kid, you don't look like a Huntress."

Jaune frowned, "Well, yeah, 'cause I'm not one. I'm a Hunts- " He stopped himself mid-word. Technically, he was still in training, and falsely claiming to be a Huntsman was a crime " -a student at Beacon," he corrected, "I swear. Look, I have an ID!" He held it up again.

The man didn't even glance at it. He just leaned on the counter and gave Jaune a tired, pitying look, "Right. And I'm the King of Vale."

Jaune scowled, "I'm serious! I go to Beacon! My name's Jaune Arc, I'm on Team JNPR, and I-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure you are," the man interrupted, waving a hand dismissively, "Look, kid, I get it. You think it'd be funny to play a little joke or maybe your friends dared you to do something crazy. But trust me, you do not want to be there at night."

Jaune narrowed his eyes, "And why not?"

The man let out a long, suffering sigh and rubbed his face, "Because the Huntresses get desperate at night."

Jaune blinked, "...What."

The man looked at him with dead-serious eyes, "Desperate, kid. I mean, they're always desperate, but it gets worse when the sun goes down. It's like a full moon, but instead of turning into werewolves, they turn into-" He gestured vaguely, "-whatever the hell you call that mess. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor. You do not want to be out there when they start prowling." He tried to look for any signs of the guy bullshitting him, but there was none. He looked dead serious.

Jaune just stared at him, "You're joking."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" The guy's expression was about as lively as a brick wall, "Go back into the city, get a hotel, lock your door, and pray none of them find you. Beacon's got a curfew, but a few of them get desperate and go out prowling. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jaune took a step back and processed the words. This was...wrong, but he didn't know what else to do. He left Crocea Mors back at Beacon, and even if he didn't, was he gonna threaten the guy manning the counter? He shook his head and walked off, his thoughts muddled.

Jaune trudged through the dimly lit streets of Vale, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets as he tried to process everything. This was getting ridiculous. The guy at the docks had to be messing with him. There was no way he was serious no matter how he looked. Huntresses didn't prowl the streets at night like some kind of hormonal Grimm. Sure, some of them were flirty. Yang had her whole cool older sister who makes bad puns and tries to sound suave thing going on, but that was normal!

But this?

He groaned, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. The sun was setting and the city buzzed with life around him. Nothing seemed wrong. No rampaging Grimm, no explosions in the distance, no mechs rampaging down highways. Everything was normal.

Except it wasn't.

Jaune sighed and eventually found himself at a park. The place was quiet, save for the occasional sound of wind rustling through the trees. It was nice. Peaceful. A little too empty for comfort, but he'd take what he could get. He plopped down onto a bench with a heavy sigh, leaning back and staring at the canopy of leaves overhead, "Okay," he muttered, rubbing his face, "Just...think, Jaune. You can't get back to Beacon, some weirdo at the docks thinks you're about to get jumped by a bunch of feral Huntresses, and everyone's acting weird."

He groaned again and pulled out his scroll. He'd been holding off on calling for help because, well...he didn't want to look stupid. If this was some elaborate prank, the last thing he wanted was for Ruby to laugh at him and Pyrrha to give him that concerned look she always did when he tripped over himself.

But now? Now he just wanted answers. He scrolled through his contacts, tapping Pyrrha's name first. The screen lit up as it tried to connect.

...And kept trying.

Jaune frowned. The call didn't even go through Normally, Pyrrha always picked up instantly. If she wasn't training or in class, she'd answer on the first ring. But this? "...Huh." A weird pit settled in his stomach as he tried again, only to get the same result. No connection. Not even a busy signal. His fingers tightened around the scroll as he flipped to Ruby's contact and tried her next. Same result.

What the hell?

His mind raced through possibilities. Maybe Beacon had some kind of weird nighttime lockdown where all student communications got jammed? But that didn't make sense. If that were the case, he would've heard about it by now. Maybe the school just had a bad signal at this time of night? No, he saw Yang calling her friends just last night.

Jaune exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his head as a nervous laugh bubbled in his throat, "Okay," he said to himself, trying to keep calm, "It's fine. No big deal. Just a connection issue. Totally normal." He pocketed his scroll and licked his lips nervously. He didn't have the money for a hotel. Maybe a net cafe? He heard they let people stay up overnight. Then maybe he could get back to Beacon some other way. Cause there was no way he was gonna lose his shot after what he did to get here.

He slumped back on the bench, rubbing his temples. He was exhausted. His scroll was useless, the docks were a dead end, and he had no idea what was going on. The prospect of sleeping at a net cafe was growing more and more tempting by the second. He exhaled through his nose, tapping his fingers against his knee. That felt like the best plan, but something about it made his skin crawl. Like if he stayed out too long, something would happen.

...Eh, probably just his imagination.

Still, he pushed himself up, already mentally preparing to search for a place to stay when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. Weiss. Standing near a small pond at the edge of the park, arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently against the ground. She looked the same as she always did: pristine, perfectly put together, a picture of nobility wrapped in white and icy blue. Like she she'd stepped out of a fairy tale. The only thing that ruined the picture was her expression. Her face was pinched in a way that meant she was either deep in thought or annoyed at something.

Jaune's heart soared. Finally, he thought, someone normal! Someone who knew him! Someone who could march up to that guy at the docks and give him a full-on Schnee Lecture about how he was an esteemed Beacon student and not some lost city kid who needed protecting from the big, bad Huntresses!

And hey, while he was at it, a little flirting wouldn't be amiss, right? He adjusted his hoodie, straightened his back, and grinned. Weiss was here, and that meant everything was going to be fine.

Jaune took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and strode confidently toward Weiss. This was it. The moment. His moment. All those times she ignored him, rolled her eyes, brushed him off with that little haughty scoff of hers. None of that mattered anymore. Because tonight, in this weirdly empty city with its weirdly absent men and weirdly desperate Huntresses, fate had given him a chance. And Jaune Arc was nothing if not a man who believed in taking chances. Why else was he here?

He reached her in a few strides, throwing on his best charming grin as he came to a stop just beside her. She was still looking out at the pond, her arms crossed, her foot tapping against the ground like she was lost in deep thought.

"Hey there, Snow Angel," he said, laying on the charm.

Weiss blinked. Slowly, she turned her head and looked at him. Her expression was unreadable at first. Brows slightly furrowed and lips just barely parted, like she wasn't sure if she heard him right. She looked at him like he was a stranger, but he paid it no mind. She'd looked at him in worse ways before, "...Are you talking to me?" she asked, her voice slow. Careful.

Jaune chuckled, lifting his hands in a what-else-would-I-be-doing kind of way, "Uh, yeah! Of course, I'm talking to you! Who else would I-"

Weiss grinned. Not just a smirk. Not just the tiny, amused quirk of her lips that he had seen once in a blue shattered moon when he made a joke that actually landed. No. This was a grin. Wide. Hungry. Predatory.

Jaune barely had time to process it before Weiss lunged. Her fingers curled around the collar of his hoodie, yanking him forward with not-so-surprising (she was a Huntress-in-training) strength. Vefore he could even think to react, her lips crashed against his.

His brain went blank. For a single, stunned second, all Jaune could do was freeze. Was...Was this- was Weiss Schnee actually- was this happening?!

Then his brain rebooted, excitement surged through his chest, and- by the Brothers, this was happening! She was kissing him. Weiss was kissing him! Not a peck, not a chaste, soft little brush of lips, but a kiss. A real one. Desperate. Hungry. Her hands gripped his hoodie like she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go, and her tongue was already pushing past his lips, practically forcing its way inside his mouth with a neediness he never would've expected from her.

It was clumsy. Messy. Absolutely nothing like the poised, elegant image he'd always imagined when he thought about what it'd be like to kiss Weiss Schnee. But holy crap, Jaune was not about to complain. His eyes fluttered shut, a rush of pure, giddy excitement flooding his veins. Finally! He'd done it! He'd finally broken through! He knew he had a shot! He knew she'd see what a nice guy he was eventually! And now...now she was kissing him like he was the only man in the world!

...Not that he'd ever expected her to be this forward, but hey, maybe she'd just been hiding her feelings all along! Thanks for the advice, dad! Whooo!

He melted into the kiss, arms coming up to wrap around her waist, heart pounding in his chest. This was it. This was the moment. The start of something beautiful.

Weiss finally pulled back, panting softly against his lips, her breath hot and heavy. Jaune barely had time to process the sheer insanity of what had just happened before she yanked him even closer, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie like a vice. Then, in a low, husky growl, she murmured directly into his ear, "You. Me. Hotel. Now."

Jaune's brain short-circuited. His thoughts - which had previously been a chaotic whirlwind of holy crap, Weiss is kissing me, Weiss is actually kissing me - immediately dissolved into static. His skin prickled where her breath ghosted against his ear, his heart hammering so wildly in his chest that he was surprised it hadn't burst through his ribcage. This was happening. This was actually happening. He and Weiss were gonna-

He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. His knees felt weird. His whole body felt weird. Tingly. Lightheaded. He must've looked stupid. standing there with his eyes wide and his lips still slightly parted, waiting for his brain to catch up to the rest of him, but Weiss didn't seem to care.

She just watched him, her expression expectant and demanding. And Jaune, still floating somewhere between 'thrilled beyond belief' and 'functionally brain-dead', could only nod along, "Y-Yeah," he stammered, his voice dazed and stupid, "Okay. Yeah. Hotel. Sure."

All thoughts about asking her for help to get back to Beacon? Gone. Obliterated. Reduced to nothing beneath the sheer, overwhelming weight of the fact that Weiss Schnee had just shoved her tongue down his throat and was now dragging him off to a hotel.

[line break]

Weiss practically dragged him through the grand lobby, barely slowing down to flick her black card at the receptionist. He took one look at her, one look at him, and then wordlessly slid over the room key with an expressionless stare.

Jaune didn't have the brain power to question anything. His feet moved on instinct, following her lead as they ascended floor after floor in a private elevator, her grip on his wrist iron-tight, her body humming with anticipation.

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap-

They barely made it through the door before Weiss shoved him inside. Jaune stumbled backward, arms flailing, eyes darting around in wide-eyed amazement at the lavish interior. A massive king-sized bed, satin sheets, warm lighting, and expensive everything.

But he didn't get to admire any of it before Weiss pounced. With a shove, he landed flat on his back against the impossibly soft mattress, his whole world spinning as the mattress dipped beneath him. He barely managed a gasp before Weiss climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, her fingers already fumbling at the seams of her dress. No slow seduction. No teasing touches. No coy removal of a strap like how he always imagined it'd go in his nighttime fantasies.

She ripped it clean off. Fabric pooled at her sides as she shed her clothing like a woman possessed, discarding piece after piece with the speed and urgency of someone with one singular goal.

Jaune gawked. His brain screamed at him to move, to say something, to do something, but all he could do was stare. Her skin was pale. Flawless. Her boobs were small but perky, and her toned stomach tightened with each breath. Her nipples, a pretty shade of pink that drew the eyes, were already hard were arousal. Her legs, long and smooth, caged him in, thighs warm against his sides. He could feel the heat even through his hoodie.

Jaune's face burned as his gaze trailed lower, his entire body locking up as he realized that, yes, she was completely bare. The thin slit of her pussy, already wet and just as smooth as the rest of her. His cock quickly got hard.

She kissed him again. Her lips crashed into his, hard, her hands burying themselves in his hoodie, yanking him closer, pressing herself against him with a hunger that sent a violent shudder down his spine. She moaned shamelessly against his lips, rubbing her quim against the rough fabric of his jeans. Fuck.

Jaune fumbled with his waistband, hands scrambling to do something, anything, to match her pace. His brain had long since stopped functioning, reduced to nothing but a whirlwind of holy crap holy crap holy crap, and it wasn't helping that Weiss refused to stop kissing him.

Every time he tried to lift his arms, she was there, her lips crashing against his, her tongue swiping into his mouth, her fingers digging into his hoodie like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to Remnant.

It was a struggle, and it was made infinitely worse by the fact that, for reasons beyond him, he'd thought wearing two belts was a good idea. Why did he have two belts? Why did no one tell him this was stupid?

He grunted, trying to yank them free with one hand while the other clumsily tried to push down his pants, but it was a disaster. Weiss was pressed too close, her thighs squeezing around his sides, her hips grinding just enough to make his coordination completely nonexistent.

His armor? Forget it. His hoodie? Not happening.

Somehow, he managed to kick off his trousers, his boxers halfway down before Weiss suddenly paused, her whole body stiffening. A shudder. A long, pleasured exhale. And then, a low, desperate moan. Jaune barely had time to process what happened before Weiss trembled against him, her nails digging into his neck as she felt his cock, hot and hard, pressing up against her bare thigh.

Her breath hitched, her fingers flexing against his hoodie, and for the first time since this all started, she was the one who hesitated. Then, slowly - oh-so slowly - she pulled back just enough to look at him, her ice-blue eyes dark with desire, "Alright, stud..." she breathed, voice trembling with barely contained need.

Jaune swallowed, throat dry, "Y-Yeah?"

"I want you to take this thing." She reached down and palmed his dick, "And shove it in me so hard that I can't walk tomorrow. Can you do that?"

"N-No problem!"

Jaune's instincts took over. With a surge of adrenaline, he gripped Weiss's arms gently but firmly, reversing their positions in one smooth, controlled motion that left him on top. Weiss's startled squeal morphed into a delighted giggle, her eyes sparkling with surprise and excitement beneath him.

Taking the initiative, Jaune leaned down, capturing her lips with his own in a deep, purposeful kiss. The intensity of the moment deepened, and as he positioned himself between her welcoming thighs, his heart pounding with a mix of nerves and excitement. He never thought he'd get this far. At least, not so soon. He always did dream about sharing the same bed as Weiss, but he never imagined she'd just drag him to a hotel like her life depended on it.

Carefully, he aligned himself at her entrance, desperate to reach the climax. His breath hitched slightly as he felt the warm, inviting pressure against the tip of his cock. With a slow, steady push, he eased forward, enveloped by a sensation that was as intense as it was new to him.

Weiss gasped softly beneath him, her fingers clutching at his back, her expression a mix of awe, eagerness, and pure hunger. The room filled with the sound of their mingled breaths, the sounds of smacking lips and shameless moans. Her tight snatch seemed to try and keep him out at first, but a few careful thrusts in and the soft, velvety walls parted to accept him. Fuck! Jaune grit his teeth. Gods, it felt so fucking good. Better than any kind of 'self-care' he'd ever done.

They both paused as he fully sheathed himself within her. Weiss gasped, her entire body shuddering. Jaune's eyes screwed shut and he breathed out through his mouth. Was he dreaming? If so, please Gods, never let him wake up again.

Jaune kept himself bottomed out inside her for a few more seconds before he felt the urge to move again. He exhaled softly and started to pull back, keeping the same languid pace as before, "Nooo~" Weiss wrapped her arms tighter around him. Jaune gulped and resisted the urge to slam down on her. In all the time he'd known her, Weiss always kept a look of haughty confidence. At most, she'd give little begrudging smiles she usually reserved for Ruby.

Now? Now, she looked completely undone. Eyes half-lidded, mouth parted open with her tongue lolling out. It looked hotter than any kind of fantasy he'd ever hand. His hands groped for the soft mounds of her chest and she moaned shamelessly as he fondled them. They were just as soft as he expected. Maybe they weren't as big as Yang or Pyrrha, but that didn't matter to him. Seeing Weiss squirm and moan with every squeeze and pinch was hotter than anything else on Remnant.

Jaune pulled back till he was halfway out before going back in. It was faster this time. Easier now that he was already inside. Weiss blubbered underneath, "S-Sisters, your cock is so big...!" Sisters? He shook his head. No, didn't matter. He bit his lower lip and kept going. He was a virgin, and he was pretty sure Weiss was too, so his movements ended up being clumsy and shaky. It was hard to keep hmself balanced, and his arms barely managed to hold up his own weight.

The pace of his pumping slowly picked up. In, out, in, out. Jaune grit his teeth and tried to keep his breathing level. He wanted it to last longer. In all his fantasies, sex was always perfect. It lasted for multiple rounds, they came at the same time, and they were holding hands when they did it.

The reality was different. His thrusts were clumsy, he had to press both hands against the mattress to keep himself up, and he was half-dizzy from the sheer enormity of it all. Here he was, losing his virginity to Weiss Schnee. His old friends from back home would've been so jealous. Hell, Jaune from a week ago would've been jealous. Back then, he was just a bundle of nerves on an airship with no Aura. Now he was a student and Beacon and...well, he was here.

Jaune could feel himself growing closer and closer. It wouldn't be long now, "Fuck, here it comes..." A thought suddenly shot through him like a lance. He didn't have any protection. He'd been so damn excited he didn't even think about it. Jaune's eyes snapped open and he made to pull back when he felt a pressure on his back. Weiss had wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him back down, pushing his cock back up to the hilt inside her snatch.

"D-Don't pull out!"

"But if I come inside-"

"F-Fuck, I don't care! Cum inside me! Do it!"

Whatever self-restraint he had melted right then and there. Jaune stopped trying to pull back and groaned as he finally climaxed. Spurts of his seed shot out of his cock, painting the heiress' inner walls white. Weiss' eyes shot opened and her mouth parted, though there was no sound...at least, not at first. It didn't take long for her to start babbling again, muttering about how amazing sex was and how she deserved this for everything she'd already gone through. It came in one ear and out the other.

He didn't know how long he stayed inside her. When he looked down, he saw his cock stuffing her entrance while their cum leaked out the sides. Jaune fell on his back next to her, looking up at the brightly lit ceiling. Gods, that felt-

"...Again."

"Huh?"

Jaune looked to Weiss and grunted when she flipped over and straddled him again. Her soft butt was pressing down on his crotch and he could feel his cock already growing hard again, "I said again," she said, looking down at him hungrily, "I'm not satisfied yet!"

He opened his mouth to say something before shutting it again. What was he going to do? Say no? Not a chance, "Alright. Whatever you want, Snow Angel." Jaune laughed, ready to go for a second around.

[line break]

Jaune lay on the luxurious hotel bed, limbs sprawled out, his chest rising and falling in slow, uneven breaths. His skin was slick with sweat, his heart still hammering in his ears, and his brain? His brain was lagging behind, trying to process what had just happened. This wasn't a dream, right? His fingers twitched against the silk sheets beneath him, as if testing reality itself. No, it was definitely real.

He'd just fucked Weiss Schnee. More than once.

That thought alone sent another wave of disbelief crashing through him. Weiss. Schnee. The same Weiss who had barely given him the time of day at Beacon, who usually looked at him like he was an annoying gnat buzzing in her ear. The same Weiss who had ignored every attempt at flirting, rolled her eyes at his attempts to be suave, and dismissed his existence unless absolutely necessary.

And yet, here she was, lying beside him, completely naked, her body lazily pressed against his. She was soft and warm, her long white hair a tangled mess around her flushed face. A satisfied, cat-like smile curved her lips, and her pale fingers idly traced patterns over his chest, her touch featherlight, like she was savoring him. She looked content. Blissful, even. If he hadn't just experienced it firsthand, he wouldn't have believed it.

Jaune was still trying to wrap his head around it all when something finally clicked in his mind. Wait. Weiss. Right. He came to her for a reason. His eyes widened, his head snapping toward her, "Weiss," he said, still breathless, "I almost forgot. I need your help getting back to Beacon."

Weiss let out a soft giggle, her nails lightly dragging down his chest in slow, idle strokes, "Oh, sweetie," she murmured, her voice rich with amusement, "I love that you're so eager. But even I need a moment to catch my breath." She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow as she gazed down at him with a smirk, "Really now, didn't I wear you out at all?"

Jaune blinked at her, his face blank, "What?"

She giggled again, stretching her arms above her head in a slow, languid motion, her smirk deepening as she admired him, "I mean, I knew you'd be different from the others, but this is adorable. Already ready for another round? My kind of man."

Jaune sat up, shaking his head, "No, Weiss, I mean it. I need to get back to Beacon. I-I was in Vale for the day, but I couldn't get a Bullhead back, so I figured you could-"

Weiss's laughter cut him off, light and musical. It wasn't mocking exactly, but it was too amused, like he'd just told her a really stupid joke joke. She reached out, cupping his cheek with both hands and gazing at him with something that was almost pitying, "Alright now," she cooed, her thumbs stroking over his skin, "You really are adorable when you joke like that, but you need to understand what you're asking for here."

Jaune blinked. His stomach twisted slightly. Something about the way she said that, the way she looked at him, sent alarm bells ringing in the back of his head, "I'm not joking," he said slowly.

Weiss hummed, clearly unconvinced, tilting her head as if humoring a child who had just declared he was a superhero, "Oh, I know you think you're serious," she said, smiling, "But come on. Beacon? That's no place for a man."

Jaune felt his whole body freeze, "...What?"

Weiss giggled again, clearly entertained, and flicked his nose playfully, "Don't be silly. What would you even do there? Guard the lockers? Hold everyone's weapons while the real fighters do the work?" She smirked, stroking his cheek again, "Don't worry, love. You don't need to stress yourself with that kind of thing anymore. I have you now."

Jaune let out a frustrated groan, running both hands through his messy blonde hair before throwing them up in exasperation, "For the love of- Weiss, I do belong there! I'm a student at Beacon! You know this! We've been classmates for a week!"

Weiss, still lounging naked on the bed, folded her arms and gave him a bemused look, like he was a child insisting he had a pet dragon in the backyard, "Jaune," she sighed, shaking her head, "You can't be a student at Beacon."

Jaune glared at her, "And why the hell not?!"

Weiss huffed, her expression that of someone explaining something obvious, "Because males don't have Aura."

Jaune froze. His brain short-circuited, "Excuse me?"

Weiss raised a brow, as if he was the one saying something ridiculous, "Males. Don't. Have. Aura," she repeated slowly, like she was talking to a particularly dense toddler, "That's just fact, Jaune."

Jaune stared at her like she'd grown a second head. Then he laughed, short and incredulous, rubbing his temples. Alright, he'd be the first to admit that he wasn't the biggest expert on the stuff, but he knew for a fact that guys had Aura! Unless she was gonna tell him that Ren, all of team CRDL, Ozpin, Port, and Oobleck were all women, "Okay, what the hell are you talking about? Of course guys have Aura! What kind of insane- ugh, you know what? Fine. You want proof?"

Weiss blinked in mild curiosity, propping herself up on her elbows as Jaune suddenly stood and turned toward the massive bed she was still sitting on. He squared his stance, bent his knees, and with a grunt, Jaune lifted the entire bed off the ground with both hands.

Weiss let out an undignified yelp as the luxurious frame, mattress, and her were all hoisted into the air, her balance wobbling as she instinctively grabbed onto the sheets. He wasn't as strong as Yang, sure, but Aura made just about everyone superhuman, and lifting a bed was nothing compared to taking hits from a Deathstalker or having to hold back Nora when someone cut in line and took the last stack of red maple syrup pancakes.

For a few stunned seconds, Weiss said nothing, her mouth slightly agape as she stared down at him from her new aerial position. Jaune, still holding the bed like a dumbbell, shot her a flat look, "Believe me now?" He grunted.

Weiss didn't respond. Her stunned expression didn't change as he carefully lowered the bed back onto the floor. Then, out of nowhere, she grinned. Before Jaune could register what was happening, she lunged at him, tackling him onto the floor with a squeal of absolute, unfiltered glee, "Oh my Goddesses!" she screamed, her voice hitting a pitch that made his ears ring, "I fucked the first man on Remnant to have Aura! Ahahahaha!"

Jaune barely had time to flail before she all but squeezed the air out of him in a crushing hug, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms tightening around his shoulders like a vice. He wheezed, "Weiss?! Ghk-can't...breath!"

But Weiss wasn't listening. She was cheering, kicking her legs excitedly like a girl who had just won the lottery, "Oh my Sisters! This...This is history! This is the most important thing I've ever done! The most important thing anyone on Remnant has ever done! I've made history!"

Jaune, still pinned beneath her, struggled to keep up, "What the hell is happening?!"

Weiss pulled back, looking down at him with an expression of pure, unbridled triumph, "Love," she said breathlessly, her eyes shining, "Do you have any idea what this means?!"

Jaune, still trapped under her, was pretty sure that no, he did not know what the hell any of this meant, "No?"

Weiss beamed, "I was first! I was the first!" She let out a delighted giggle, her hands gripping his shoulders as she practically bounced on top of him. Considering she was naked, it made for a really interesting image, "I beat everyone else!"

Jaune's brain was breaking, "...Beat them at what?!"

Weiss's grin turned predatory, "Claiming you, of course!" Jaune felt every single neuron in his brain explode, "You want to go to Beacon?! Deal! Oh, I can't wait to show you off to everyuone!" She squealed and hugged him again, "What's your name? I understand it's a bit late, but I can't introduce you as just my lover, as tempting as that is."

"What? I- it's me, Jaune! We've been classmates for a week! I've been trying to ask you out for days!"

"Doubtful. If you asked me out, I would've said yes the first time." She grinned down at him, "Alright, Jaune. Let's show the rest of those skanks who the real woman is."

[line break]

Huh...seems like V1 Jaune is having an easier time here compared to Rusty. Anyway, like you guys said, this'll probably be a harem with Rizzless Weiss taking on the domineering head wife role. I might also skip smut for the next chapter. The joke comes more from how annoyingly smug Weiss is.

Femboy Ren - Oneshot for a Friend

Oneshot done for a friend. He wanted Ren crossdressing and getting free stuff cause of it. So yeah, enjoy. I'll be doing a RWBY Jaune harem fic next. It'll be a comedic Pirate AU where Jaune becomes captain of The Beacon and gathers a loyal crew of the deadliest women in the seas.

I might also make a Zenless crossover where Jaune's old gang, the Sons of Calydon, come to visit Beacon. Lucy and Weiss immediately hate each other on sight. And Maid Jaune Chapter 3 for Patrons, of course.

[line break]

Weiss considered herself a rational person, one who'd seen enough absurdities in her time at Beacon Academy that very little surprised her anymore. Between Jaune Arc's inexplicable survival despite his complete lack of common sense (or Aura, as she found out from a very defensive Pyrrha), Ruby's baffling ability to eat an entire plate of cookies in under ten seconds, and Nora Valkyrie's continued refusal to obey the laws of physics (even moreso than the average Huntsman), she'd developed a certain tolerance for the bizarre.

But this...this was testing her patience.

Sitting alone across the cafeteria, sipping a steaming cup of tea with the poise of a noblewoman at high tea, was none other than Lie Ren. And he was wearing a skirt. And not just any skirt. It was the exact same design as the Beacon Academy uniform's standard skirt, worn by every female student, complete with the dark stockings and prim heels. The only difference was that Ren wore it with the same utterly unreadable expression he always had, as if there was nothing unusual about this at all. No hesitation, no embarrassment, no explanation.

It wasn't just the skirt and heels, of course. There were touches of makeup as well. A little blush on his cheeks, some gloss to make his lip shine...subtle things that slightly enhanced his slim features. Nothing caked up or trashy.

Weiss had grown up as a Schnee. She knew how to analyze situations and deduce underlying motives, but this one was slipping through her fingers like sand. Was this some strange cultural practice from Mistral? An act of rebellion against gender norms? A bizarre bet he had lost to Nora? But no, he had been doing this for weeks - long enough that some of the newer students had simply accepted that Ren was just another reserved, graceful Beacon girl, albeit a rather tall one.

And to Weiss' mounting frustration, it was working.

"Oh, Ren~" A second-year Huntress - Mina, if Weiss recalled - giggled as she walked past his table, twirling a strand of her brown hair between her fingers as she held out a small, wrapped parcel, "I made some extra pastries last night, and I thought you might like some! You just look like you'd appreciate them."

Ren blinked once, his expression serene, and gave a small, elegant nod as he accepted the gift, "That's very kind of you. Thank you." He didn't even bother to mask his voice! That frustrated her for reasons she couldn't really articulate.

Weiss watched, flabbergasted, as Mina turned a shade of red that could put Pyrrha's hair to shame before practically floating away in giddy delight. Ren, for his part, calmly unwrapped the pastry, took a bite, and resumed sipping his tea, utterly nonchalant, "What the hell am I watching right now?" Weiss muttered under her breath.

"Same thing we've been watching for a month," Yang said, dropping into the seat beside her with an amused grin, "Our boy Ren has completely gamed the system."

"This is not a system, this is manipulation!" Weiss hissed, "This...This is fraud! He's pretending to be a girl!"

"I mean...is he?" Yang smirked, resting her chin on her hand as she lazily glanced over at Ren, who had now attracted a small flock of admirers eager to fawn over him, "He never actually says he's a girl. He just...lets people assume. And let's be real, he's always been prettier than half the girls at this school. He just finally figured out how to use it." 'Finally'? He'd been wearing a skirt ever since the first day of classes! And judging by the ease with which he did it and Nora's (uncharacteristic) lack of comment, he'd been doing it long before he arrived in Beacon.

"That doesn't make it right!" Weiss insisted, indignant, "He's exploiting people's generosity under false pretenses!"

"Oh, please, don't pretend you wouldn't do the same if you thought you could get away with it," Yang snickered, nudging Weiss playfully, "You literally grew up getting special treatment just because of your last name."

"That is not the same thing," Weiss said through gritted teeth, turning a sharp glare on her teammate. How dare Yang equate the two?! She never tricked anyone. She truly was a Schnee from the day she was born into this world. And besides, she rarely ever accepted such gifts. She knew all too well that people simply coveted her last name and were trying to weasel their way into her good graces. She would've far preferred if they kept their overtures to themselves.

Yang just grinned wider, "Alright, Schnee, then let me ask you this: do you really think Ren is doing anything wrong?"

Weiss opened her mouth to immediately confirm that yes, of course, this was completely unethical, but the words died on her tongue as she hesitated. Because technically...technically Ren wasn't actually lying. He hadn't changed his name, hadn't gone out of his way to trick people - he had just stopped correcting anyone who assumed, and he was playing up his natural elegance to lean into it. He wasn't forcing anyone to give him favors, they were doing it willingly.

It reminded her of Arc, much to her frustration. The stubborn fool kept trying to woo her with his (nonexistent) country charms and other more material things such as movie tickets and dinner invitations. She rejected them all, of course, but if she accepted without explicitly promising him anything back, she wouldn't have been wrong. On the contrary, Jaune would look like the entitled one for thinking that he was owed something because she accepted gifts he willingly gave. As if her affection was something that could be bought.

Weiss hated it. She hated that it worked. She hated that there was no rule against it. And most of all, she hated that she couldn't actually prove it was wrong.

And worst of all, it wasn't just girls treating him differently, "Hey, Ren," a male student - Jared, Weiss vaguely recalled - walked up, rubbing the back of his head as he awkwardly held out a thermos, "I, uh, noticed you drink a lot of tea, and, well, my dad owns a tea shop, so I thought, y'know, maybe you'd like to try some of this blend? It's, um, imported from Mistral, so I figured you might appreciate it..."

Ren turned his gaze to Jared, blinking once in that measured, serene way of his, before reaching out to accept the thermos with practiced grace, "That's very thoughtful. I look forward to trying it." Jared turned a bright shade of red, mumbled something about having to leave, and practically stumbled over himself retreating.

Weiss slammed her hands down on the table, "Oh, come on!"

Ren merely took another sip of tea.

[line break]

Days passed, and Weiss' frustration only grew with each ridiculous instance of Ren effortlessly gaming the system.

At first, she thought the absurdity would wear off, that people would eventually wise up and stop falling for his perfectly poised, soft-spoken demeanor. But no. If anything, the sheer audacity of his scheme only escalated despite him changing nothing. It was like watching an investment that never dipped in value; something that broke the laws of reality. Ren's unspoken con continued to yield greater and greater returns, and the worst part was that it didn't even seem like he had to try.

The gifts kept rolling in.

At breakfast, some flustered first-year from Vacuo - Vacuo! Those people hated everyone outside their sandy hellhole of a country! - offered him a delicate box of expensive chocolates, tripping over his words as he assured Ren, "They're really good! Like, imported from Atlas and everything! Not that you have to eat them if you don't want to, I just thought, you know, you might-"

Ren accepted them with an elegant nod, as if he were royalty granting an audience, and said, "That's very kind. I appreciate the thought."

Weiss had to watch this boy - this scammer - receive a gift worth more than her entire daily meal budget, while she, a Schnee, had to buy her own food like some common peasant. She was used to a certain lifestyle in Atlas, but she had to start budgeting ever since she arrived in Beacon. Beacon's palate was well enough, she supposed, but outside of it? Her usual five-star meals had to be bumped down to three. Three. But she soldiered on, determined to co continue her rebellion against her father.

Much to her frustration, tt didn't stop there. In combat class, when the instructors paired everyone up for sparring, another student - a broad-shouldered Atlesian whose name Weiss couldn't recall because she was too busy seething - insisted on taking the hit for Ren when Professor Goodwitch launched a surprise volley of floating training dummies at them during a practice session.

"It's fine, Ren," the boy gasped, pushing himself up from where he had just been bodied into the floor, "You shouldn't have to get hit."

Ren, standing pristinely unscathed with his hands folded neatly in front of him, gave the poor fool a small bow, "That's very chivalrous of you." He smiled, and she swore she saw sparkles. Weiss very nearly exploded on the spot.

But the absolute last straw came when Ren casually strolled into the library one afternoon, trailed by a familiar upperclassman. Klaus Faulke, a fellow Atlesian and one of the best Dust specialists in Beacon. Even he had apparently fallen victim to whatever ungodly enchantment Ren had placed on half the student body; though at this point, saying half felt like a vast underestimation.

And in Klaus' hands? A pristine, expertly crafted case of high-quality, pure-cut Dust crystals.

Not the cheap, overprocessed Dust you could buy at any old corner store. No, this was Dust that was carefully refined, free of impurities, and probably worth a small fortune (or in her case, her monthly allowance). The kind of Dust Weiss would have to place a special order for through proper channels and wait weeks to receive. Another trial she had to deal with. Back at home, she would've received it in a day, but Father was petty and insisted on making her life difficult.

And Ren just got it.

No effort. No begging. No ridiculous paperwork or Schnee family connections. All he needed was a skirt and a pair of heels.

Ren nodded politely and looked down at the packaged luxury, "That's very generous of you. Are you certain?"

And Klaus, the absolute buffoon, grinned and nodded like a man who had just been blessed by some divine being, "Of course, Ren! I mean, it's not like I don't have extra, and you're so skilled with your Mistrali techniques - I figured you'd make better use of this than I would!"

Weiss couldn't take it anymore. She slammed her book shut so violently that several students jumped. She stormed over the moment the Klaus left, slamming her hands onto Ren's table with enough force to rattle his teacup. The student librarian looked over and seemed like she was about to reprimand her for making a scene, but a glare from the heiress made her look away.

"You have to stop this," Weiss said through gritted teeth.

Ren calmly closed his book and looked up at her. His expression didn't change, but there was the faintest tilt of his head, like he was quietly amused, "Stop what?"

"This! This!" Weiss gestured wildly at the neatly wrapped Dust box, at the surrounding students still stealing longing glances at Ren like he was some kind of untouchable goddess, "This...scam you're running!"

Ren blinked at her, "I don't recall charging anyone money."

"That's not the point!" Weiss sputtered, "You're taking advantage of people! Of their kindness! Of...Of their gullibility!"

"Am I?" Ren tilted his head, "They offered. I accepted."

Weiss' eye twitched, "You didn't correct them."

"I never lied." He shrugged, "I don't demand things or act in a way to deliberately entice people like some femme fatale. I'm simply sitting here."

"Ren, you are sitting here in a skirt, reading a book like some delicate noblewoman while people fawn over you and give you high-quality Dust! That's not normal!"

Ren glanced down at himself, as if genuinely pondering her words, before he shrugged again, "It's quite comfortable. And as I recall, Beacon has no rules saying that male students are not allowed to wear the uniform this way."

"That's not the point!" Weiss clenched her fists, feeling her last thread of patience fray, "Do you have any shame?"

Ren hummed, "Not particularly."

Weiss did scream this time. Just a little. A strangled, frustrated noise of pure, unfiltered rage. Again, the student librarian made to say something before Weiss' glare sent her packing with a squeak.

And, of course, as if the universe wanted to punish her, another student approached, "Uh, hey, Ren," a soft-spoken boy mumbled, nervously adjusting his glasses as he held out what looked like a small, leather-bound book, "I, um, noticed you liked tea, and I had this guide on different blends and brewing techniques, and I thought maybe, uh, you'd like it...?"

Ren took the book with that same placid, graceful air, fingers brushing lightly over the embossed cover, "That's very thoughtful. Thank you." The boy made a tiny, delighted noise and scurried off before Weiss could grab him and shake some sense into him.

Weiss slowly turned back to Ren, trembling with barely restrained fury. She clenched both hands and took a deep, steadying breath. She had to stay calm. Rational. Reasonable. Yelling hadn't worked. Accusations hadn't worked. Maybe, just maybe, if she appealed to Ren's morals, she could get through to him, "Ren," she said, hands pressed flat against the table, leaning forward with the most serious expression she could muster, "This is wrong."

Ren, still composed as ever, slowly looked up from his book once more, blinking as if she had just told him the weather was a bit cloudy today. His gaze was impassive and unreadable, which only made Weiss more frustrated. She was trying to have a serious discussion here, and he was acting as if she were suggesting a new tea flavor!

"You are knowingly taking advantage of people's generosity under false pretenses!" Weiss pressed on, pointing at him like an attorney about to slam down damning evidence, "They think you're someone you're not!"

Ren raised a brow, tilting his head slightly, "Do they?"

Weiss' mouth opened, the words 'Of course they do!' ready to spring forth, before she stopped. The sound caught in her throat because...well...actually, did they? She thought back to every interaction she'd witnessed. No one had explicitly called Ren a girl. He never once claimed to be anything other than himself. He merely existed, albeit in a skirt, stockings, and perfectly coordinated outfits that should not have worked so well, and just...let people assume what they wanted.

A thought came to her, unbidden. What if they knew and that was part of the appeal? Beacon wasn't exactly lacking in attractive women. Statuesque champions like Pyrrha, party girls with needless globules of fat like Yang, 'mysterious beauties' like Blake, and of course, an elegant woman of culture like herself. Even Ruby, as juvenile as she could be, appealed to someone. It was often told that there was no such thing as an unattractive Huntress, and so far, her time at Beacon had nothing to dispel that.

And yet, none of them had received gifts or looks of adoration. Just Ren. Ren with his flat chest, skirt, and high heels. Not like her at all.

"I- that's not the point!" Weiss huffed, doubling down and banishing the errant thought, "You know they wouldn't be acting this way if you weren't-" she gestured furiously at his entire being, "- like this!"

Ren took a slow sip of his tea, serene, "This?"

"This!" she repeated, even more furiously, waving at him as if that somehow explained everything.

"I see." Ren set his book down and regarded her with an even gaze, "Tell me, Weiss, how is this any different from people giving you things because you're Weiss Schnee?"

Weiss felt the gears in her head grind to a halt. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. She was suddenly reminded of Yang making the same argument a few days back, "That's...that's different!" she sputtered, pointing a finger at him as if that alone would obliterate his entire argument.

Ren's lips quirked upwards ever so slightly, "I agree," he said mildly, tapping the leatherbound cover, "It is different."

Weiss folded her arms, triumphant, "Exactly!"

Then Ren leaned forward just slightly, just enough that Weiss felt the calm danger radiating from his words, "You grew up in luxury, wanting for nothing," he said evenly, "I, on the other hand, am an orphan who has had no support system since I was seven years old." Weiss blinked. Once. Twice. The entire room seemed to go very quiet. Ren continued, utterly serene, "So yes, Weiss. Please, enlighten me. Why wouldn't I accept freely given gifts?" He tilted his head, voice as gentle as ever, "Wouldn't it be wasteful to refuse them?"

Weiss' mouth opened and closed like a fish. She made a noise. Some kind of noise that she couldn't fully describe. Something strangled and caught between an indignant gasp and the sound of a malfunctioning Dust engine.

Ren regarded her for a moment longer before his head tilted just slightly, and Weiss caught something in his gaze that made her stomach twist. His next words were quiet, "Weiss...are you jealous?"

Weiss jerked back like she'd been slapped, "What?!"

Ren simply blinked at her, calm as ever, "It would explain your fixation. My 'con', as you say it', hasn't negatively impacted you in the least, and yet you act as if I'd personally offended you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was less about looking out for your fellow students and more jealousy that you aren't the one receiving this attention."

Weiss' face burned and she grit her teeth before she stomped her foot, "Jealous?! Of you?! Don't be ridiculous! Why on Remnant would I be jealous of some cheap con art- "

"Ah," Ren exhaled softly, like he had just confirmed something.

Weiss bristled, "What?! What was that?! What do you mean 'ah'?! Stop acting like you figured something out!"

"It was nice talking to you, Weiss, but I must be leaving. Take care of yourself." He nodded and stood, taking his book with him. Weiss sputtered and tried to call him back, but the crossdressing boy paid her no mind at all. As soon as he was out the door, her shriek shook the entire campus.

[line break]

Weiss had finally had enough.

A full day had passed since her last conversation with Ren, and in that time, she had stewed, fumed, and nearly given herself an aneurysm thinking about the sheer audacity of his scam. She had tried to let it go. She had tried to tell herself that it wasn't her problem, that if people wanted to make fools of themselves by throwing gifts at an androgynous grifter in a skirt, that was their business. She was here to be a Huntress, not save idiots from themselves.

But then it happened.

Breakfast in the cafeteria. A picturesque morning, ruined by Ren receiving yet another gift. This time, it was an ornate silver pendant, polished to a mirror shine, held out to him by some lovestruck fourth-year girl who should have absolutely known better. Weiss barely heard what they said - something about it being a family heirloom, something about how "it would suit someone as elegant as you, Ren."

Ren, of course, had accepted it with the same unreadable grace as always, he merely inclined his head, took the gift without a second thought, and muttered, "That's very kind of you."

Weiss saw red.

She stood so fast that her chair scraped against the floor, drawing a few nearby glances. But she didn't care. She couldn't take this anymore. Enough was enough. She slammed a hand on the table, took a deep breath, and announced in a loud, clear voice.

"LIE REN IS A MAN!"

Silence.

Well...not actual silence. The cafeteria was still buzzing with conversation. People were still talking, eating, laughing - and completely ignoring her as if she had just said something as banal as 'the weather is nice today'. A couple of first-years glanced over in mild confusion before shrugging and returning to their meals. A few people at the next table over paused, only to look at her as if she was the weird one before continuing their discussion about last night's movie screening.

Even the girl who had just gifted Ren the pendant barely reacted. She just blinked, then turned back to Ren and said, "Anyway, I hope you like it! I can get it engraved if you want!"

Ren, unbothered, nodded slightly, "That won't be necessary, but I appreciate the thought."

Weiss' right eye twitched. She'd just exposed him. She had declared to the world that this was all a sham, that the beloved, graceful, elegant 'lady' of Beacon was, in fact, a man.

And no one cared!

She turned to the nearest group of students - a trio of second-years who had definitely been among Ren's admirers - and gestured wildly at him, "Did you hear me?! Ren is a man!" she said, sounding almost crazed.

One of them, a tall boy with a Vacuo accent, raised an eyebrow, "Yeah? We know."

Weiss felt something deep within her fracture, "Then why are you- how are you all still-" She gestured helplessly as Ren, utterly unbothered, accepted a small tin of what looked like imported Vacuoan saffron from yet another admirer. People were literally lining up to give him gifts!

The boy shrugged, "He's still pretty."

Weiss nearly screamed. Yes, he was pretty, but so was literally every other Huntress in this school! And yet none of these...cretins were lining up to give praise and gifts to any of them! Not Yang, who bragged consistently about how hot she was. Not Pyrrha, who constantly lamented how people put her on a pedestal. And certainly not herself, despite (in her unbiased opinion) being one of the most attractive Huntresses in all of Beacon!

No, it all went to him.

She turned back to Ren and found him watching her with the same unreadable expression as always. Except this time, there was something else behind it. A hint of something that, to Weiss, felt infinitely worse than smugness.

Pity. He looked at her with quiet, almost gentle pity, as if she were a child throwing a tantrum over something insignificant. She almost slammed her hands through the table. Weiss grit her teeth so hard it was a miracle she didn't ground them into Dust, "Why isn't this working?!" she hissed, barely keeping herself from shaking him by the shoulders.

Ren exhaled softly, folding his hands in his lap, "Weiss," he said, calm as ever, "what exactly did you think would happen?"

Weiss opened her mouth, prepared to yell, but then she stopped. What did she think would happen? That everyone would suddenly gasp in horror? That there would be cries of "How could we have been so blind?!" That people would immediately stop giving Ren gifts and realize they had been fooled?

But no one was fooled. No one cared. They knew. They'd always known. And yet, somehow, Ren's grift was so powerful that it didn't even need deception to work. Weiss looked down at the floor, her expression blank. And then she looked at Ren, smiled, and walked out of the cafeteria, a woman defeated.

[line break]

Ren returned to the team JNPR dorm with the same calm demeanor as always, closing the door behind him with quiet precision. Today was a good day, he thought. He assumed that the fervour would die down relatively quickly, yet it was weeks later and he still received generous gifts. Perhaps it was because they were Huntsmen-in-training. He knew from experience that while Huntsmen were well-paid, it also meant that many spent lavishly. Work hard, spend hard. The weekly Beacon stipend was generous enough that they didn't even think about buying this and that.

The second he stepped inside, he barely had time to set down his things before a blur of orange and pink barreled into him at full spee, "Ren~!" Nora practically tackled him into a hug, squeezing him tight, "You're back! What'd ya get?!"

Ren let out a quiet breath, already used to this routine, and carefully pried himself from her grip before holding up the various items he had collected throughout the day, "An imported Vacuoan spice tin, an ornate silver pendant, and a fine silk hair ribbon from Vale." The ribbon he could use. His hair was only getting longer and a high ponytail would be a nice change of pace. Besides, it wouldn't do to not take advantage of the gifts he'd been given.

Nora beamed, reaching out to poke at the pendant before sighing dramatically, "Ugh, still no pancake mix? Come on, Ren, you're slipping!"

Ren, completely unbothered, set the items neatly on his desk, "I'll take note of that for next time."

"Good!" She plopped onto his bed, stretching out with a satisfied grin, "I mean, don't get me wrong, all this fancy Dust and jewelry stuff is great, but where's the practical stuff? Like syrup? Or pre-mixed batter? Or a whole griddle?" She gave him an expectant look, "C'mon, Renny! If you're gonna game the system, at least make sure it benefits me too." Ren hummed and refrained from pointing out that she'd been benefiting for the past couple of years already.

Instead, he simply nodded, "I'll make adjustments."

Jaune, who'd been lounging at his own bed, finally looked up from his comic book, "So, uh, not that it's any of my business, but I still don't really get why you're doing this." He scratched his head, looking puzzled, "Like, okay, I helped with the makeup 'cause my sisters used me for practice growing up, but I kinda thought this was a one-time thing. You've been dressing like this since day one."

Ren, unfazed, walked over to the mirror and began removing his earrings (another gift) with practiced ease, "You don't need to understand it." Jaune didn't grow up spoiled and wanting for nothing like Weiss, but he was raised in a loving family in the idyllic countryside. He wouldn't understand.

The first time it happened was a couple of years back. Nora, being Nora, had spilled syrup on his closet while doing one of her experiments. Given that he couldn't exactly go about town in his underwear, he was forced to wear one of her outfits as he did his shopping.

That was when it started. The shopkeepers who didn't look at him twice suddenly acted far nicer and gave him discounts. A few of the older ladies had even given him free samples and extras. In the end, he didn't have to expend nearly as much of their meager budget. Nora's face had practically lit up when he came back to the inn with a veritable feast (by their standards, at least). If they were careful, they could go a couple of weeks without being forced to skip meal days.

So he tried again. The next town they went to, he borrowed a pair of Nora's earrings in addition to the outfit. He received even more compliments and, more importantly, more gifts. At first, he thought they would want something from him, something...base. Instead, they stuck to compliments about his looks. It was odd, but he didn't complain. The gifts were useful either in their daily lives or to sell for much-needed supplies. Aura came with many benefits, but because of their training regiment, it only seemed to worsen their appetites. They needed as much as they could get, and if him dressing up pretty could get them that, then he did it with no shame.

And now here they were, already at Beacon but still getting gifts. While he strictly didn't need the gifts anymore, he kept them for a rainy day. The life of a Huntsman was dangerous, after all, and while there was an association that claimed to look out for them, he'd heard more than enough stories of Huntsmen who were forced to fend for themselves after being crippled in the line of duty. He wasn't going to leave himself or Nora to the mercy of the wolves. Not again.

Jaune frowned, "That's not an answer."

Ren gave him a small, almost knowing smile, "It's the only one you're getting."

Jaune groaned, rubbing his temples, "Whatever. You're being weird, dude."

Ren simply nodded, "And yet, I have a growing collection of rare imported goods. Interesting, isn't it?"

Jaune opened his mouth to argue, paused, then groaned again, "I hate that you have a point."

Nora giggled, "Don't fight it, Jaune-Jaune. Ren's got the magic touch!" She wiggled her fingers dramatically, "He's got powers we mere mortals can't comprehend! But yeah, get some more syrup next time, Renny!"

Ren hummed in quiet amusement, unfastening his stockings. Another day passed, and tomorrow was yet to come.

[line break]

Ren stepped out of the dorm, his usual serene expression in place, his uniform immaculate as ever. The morning air was crisp, the halls of Beacon quiet but gradually filling with students beginning their routines. Another day, another opportunity. He adjusted the ribbon in his hair - the blue fabric provided a nice contrast to his dark hair - and made his way down the hall, mentally cataloging what he still needed to acquire.

Then he saw Cardin.

The moment Ren spotted the hulking brute of Team CRDL standing near the hallway intersection, his steps slowed ever so slightly. Not out of fear, no. Cardin Winchester was many things - a racist, a bully, an egotistical manchild - but none of them included being a legitimate threat to him. No, Ren hesitated because something was...off.

Cardin wasn't striding around with his usual smug confidence, nor was he actively harassing someone like a stereotypical schoolyard bully who had yet to realize they were in an academy full of superpowered teenagers (though to be fair, neither did Velvet Scarlatina given her refusal to defend herself). Instead, he was...awkward.

Ren's brow lifted slightly as he observed the anomaly in front of him. Cardin was standing stiffly, shifting from one foot to another, his hands behind his back as if he was hiding something. His face was...was that a flush? Hm. Cardin's eyes flickered up, met Ren's gaze for all of two seconds, and immediately darted away.

Fascinating.

Ren crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly, "Can I help you?"

Cardin flinched. Ren had faced Grimm with more self-confidence than what was currently exuding from the largest idiot in Beacon. The larger boy grunted, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. And then, with a sharp inhale, took two aggressive steps forward and shoved a box of chocolates into Ren's hands.

Ren blinked, looking down at the box. It was a decent brand, mid-range quality but clearly bought fresh; probably from a market down in Vale. Not the worst thing he'd been given. He inspected it idly, noting the neat packaging and slight warmth from having been held for too long. His eyes flickered back up to Cardin, who was now standing there, tense, looking like he was reconsidering every decision that had led him to this moment.

Ren raised a brow, "...Thank you?"

Cardin made a strangled noise, turned on his heel, and ran. The sound of his heavy boots pounding against the tile echoed down the hallway as he vanished at full sprint like a man escaping a horde of rampaging Grimm. Ren watched him go, trying to process what just happened. He looked down at the chocolates again before he opened the box, plucked one out, and ate it.

Hmm. Tasty.

[line break]

Poor Weiss. Realizes far too late that girls are last season. Femboys are where it's at.

Team Rizzless - Rusted Knight Omake, Part 3

Last part of Rizzless Rusted Knight Jaune. Hope you guys like this one.

[line break]

Jaune let out a long, content sigh as he settled into the cool grass, stretching his legs out beneath him and letting his muscles finally relax for what felt like the first time in weeks. The sun was refreshingly warm, the breeze gentle, and for once, there were no Huntresses around trying to drag him into some godforsaken broom closet for 'a quickie between heroes.' They were all still busy training to get exclusive access to his dick.

He shook his head and tried to put it out of his mind. Focus on the now, he told tournaments, no fights, no professors cornering him in their offices with a suspiciously locked door, no students stalking him through the halls like hungry wolves. Just peace. Beautiful, fleeting peace. He closed his eyes, inhaled the fresh country air, and for a moment, allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this world wasn't a complete nightmare.

Then, of course, it was ruined.

Jaune sensed the presence before he heard the footsteps. Soft but deliberate, the kind of careful movement of someone who didn't want to be noticed. He cracked an eye open, watching as a lone figure in a dark cloak approached, hood drawn low enough that Jaune couldn't see his face at first. Decades of fighting caused his body to tense, already prepared for a fight. He'd take a murder attempt over someone trying to suck his soul out through his cock.

The guy stopped a few paces away and hesitated, shifting his weight as if second-guessing whatever he was about to say. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cloaked man let out a slow breath and spoke, "You're him, aren't you?" His voice was low and serious with a hint of a rasp, "The only man with Aura."

Jaune stared at him blankly, "...Yeah?" he said, dragging the word out, already regretting not bringing his sword. His status as the only male with Aura stayed secret for maybe a day before most of Remnant knew about him. He still cringed at the rumors from the men in Vale claiming he was 'the Chosen One', "Who's asking?"

The figure pulled back his hood, revealing a young man with tan skin, messy brown hair, and tired brown eyes. There was something familiar about him, though Jaune couldn't quite place why, "I am Ozma," he said, and Jaune's brain just about short-circuited.

He blinked. Slowly. Once. Twice. A third time, just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Ozma," Jaune repeated flatly.

"Yes."

"You sure about that?"

"...Yes?"

Jaune stared harder, taking in the guy's face. The brown hair, the tired eyes, the weird sense of deja vu. Ozpin? No, not his Ozpin. The guy in front of him looked younger, probably about the same age as Jaune himself, which was...weird. Jaune had expected this world's Ozpin to be kicking around somewhere since Glynda told him about Salem, but this was unexpected. He looked like the Ozpin - Ozma - back when Remnant was still a land of fairy tales.

Which means this Ozma didn't reincarnate.

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted, "Okay. Fine. You're Ozma. Cool. What do you want?" Whatever bittnerness he had to his former headmaster faded to nothing in the years he spent in the Ever After. At least this world's version wasn't forced to be an unwilling mind parasite.

The guy hesitated again, as if embarrassed, then took a deep breath, "I need your help."

Jaune exhaled through his nose, "Look, buddy, if this is about me being the Chosen One or the Messiah, then you can-"

"No," Ozma cut in, his expression pained, "This is about Salem."

Jaune stiffened. His grip on the grass tightened just slightly, "...What about her?" He knew that she didn't want to destroy the world or kill everyone, but he still didn't trust it. He'd seen her handiwork first hand. Her and Cinder. There was no version of them he'd ever forgive.

Ozma swallowed hard. His jaw clenched, his whole body tense, like he was about to confess something deeply humiliating. Then, with all the solemnity of a man delivering the most important request of his life, Ozma straightened his postured and said, "I need you to sleep with her."

Jaune stared. Ozma stared back, his expression deadly serious. Jaune kept staring. A breeze rustled through the field. Birds chirped. Somewhere in the distance, a river flowed peacefully. The two men looked at one another, neither willing to break eye contact first. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jaune let out a slow, exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples, "...You wanna run that by me again?"

Ozma, to his credit, looked appropriately miserable about it, "Look. You're the only man in the world with Aura. That means you're the only man in the world who could...handle her." He shifted from one foot to another, "And I don't mean in a fight."

Jaune blinked, "Handle her?"

"Yes."

Jaune blinked again, "...Handle her?"

Ozma's eye twitched, "Don't make me say it out loud."

Jaune spread his arms out and gave him an incredulous look, "Buddy, you already did! What, you think you can just roll up to me out of nowhere, drop that on me, and not explain yourself? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Ozma groaned and ran a hand down his face, "I- look! Salem is...obsessed with me." His voice dripped with a weariness that sounded far too practiced, "It's not about power or war or world domination. She just wants to make me her eternal boy toy, and I do not want that." He tightened the cloak over his face, "I'm taking a big risk coming here. I haven't left my bunker in years, Jaune. Years. But I'm doing it now and risking exposing myself because this is important."

Jaune's brain short-circuited again. This was not what he was expecting, "So...why exactly did you come to me?"

Ozma sighed, "Imagine the thirstiest Huntress you've ever met."

Jaune shuddered, "Done. Go on."

"Now imagine if that thirst had been stewing for thousands of years with no outlet." A chill went down across Jaune's entire body, "Now imagine," Ozma continued, his expression grim, "That this particular Huntress also has immortality, an army of creatures at her disposal, and an entire world conquest plan that is entirely built around collecting men like trophies."

Jaune sighed, "I already know about this."

Ozma ignored him, "She had no concept of restraint back when she was just a woman in a tower. She killed me when I rescued her!"

Jaune blinked, "...But why?"

"Because she thinks we're soulmates!" Ozma snapped, voice rising with centuries of pent-up frustration. Jaune didn't miss how he said it in present tense, "I saved her from a tower once thinking I was saving an innocent maiden. Instead, she jumped me before I even introduced myself, then she literally fucked me to death!" He sounded downright manic now, "And when the gods wouldn't bring me back a second time, she declared war on them out of spite!"

Jaune let out a strangled noise, "What the hell kind of history is that?!"

Ozma kept going, throwing his arms up like a man at the end of his rope, "Do you know how many lifetimes I've spent hiding?! I live in a bunker! I haven't seen the sunlight in decades! I've even resorted to selling workout videos on AuraFans to afford my canned food supply!" Jaune had so many questions, but he decided he did not want the answers, "So," Ozma said, taking a deep breath and staring at Jaune with tired, desperate eyes, "Jaune, you are the only man who can match her thousands of years of thirst, the only one who might actually be able to wear her out- "

"No."

Ozma didn't miss a beat, "Please."

"Absolutely not."

"Look, I know it's a big ask- "

"Big ask?! You think?!" Jaune stood up to meet his eyes properly, "You're asking me to fuck the crazy immortal witch you killed you with sex!

"If you do this, you'll be saving Remnant! Saving thousands - no, millions - of men from sharing my fate! The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few!"

Jaune just stood there, expression blank, staring at the exhausted young man practically begging him to go seduce the literal queen of darkness. He inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaled, looked Ozma dead in the eyes and said with all the deadpan exhaustion of a man who had seen too much, "...You're out of your goddamn mind."

Ozma groaned, dragging his hands down his face in despair, "Look, just think about it! If it works, she'll stop attacking civilization! If she's busy with you, she won't care everyone else anymore!" Jaune didn't even respond. He just turned around and walked away, "Wait! Come back!" Ozma grabbed his sleeve, "You don't understand! You're my only hope!"

Jaune yanked his sleeve free and kept walking, "Not my problem."

"PLEASE!"

Jaune didn't stop. He hated this dimension.

[line break]

Jaune sat in the VIP section of the Vytal Arena, arms crossed as he slouched further into his chair, trying to will himself top stop existing. The preliminaries had only just begun, and already, he could feel the weight of every Huntress in the building pressing down on him. Not in the literal sense (yet...) but the sheer intensity of the desperate, hormone-fueled energy flooding the stadium made his Aura tingle with preemptive exhaustion.

It wasn't the fights that had his attention. Oh, sure, they were decent, some even impressive, but compared to what he'd seen in his own world, it was nothing special. No, what kept drawing his focus was the aftermath. Because every single time a team lost, the reaction was so violently over-the-top that it felt like he was watching a mass funeral rather than a sporting event.

The first team to be eliminated had barely made it off the field before all four of them collapsed into a tangled heap of despair, wailing as though their very souls had been torn from their bodies, "This can't be happening!" One of them, a brunette from Haven, clawed at her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, "We were supposed to win! We trained so hard! I was gonna ride him till he saw stars!" She fell on her knees and punched the ground in despair.

Her teammate, a girl with short green hair, clutched at her chest like she'd been personally shot, "I had a strategy! I had a plan! This was my only chance to get a boyfriend!"

A third, a tan girl with red twin braids, was literally rolling on the floor, kicking and screaming, "What am I supposed to do now?! Go back to my room?! Go back to my cold, lonely bed?! I can't! I can't go back! You can't make me!"

The fourth one, a muscular blonde in a high ponytail, had simply gone numb. She sat upright in complete silence, staring blankly at the ground as she muttered, "It was all for nothing. Everything...for nothing. Years of training. Years of discipline. Years of resistance. And now..." Her lip trembled, "Now I'll die alone."

Jaune stared, torn between horror and exhausted disbelief. He knew most of them would take it badly, but this was just...sad.

And it wasn't just the students.

No, the real danger came from the professors. The repressed, bitter women who couldn't even compete and were therefore condemned to sit in the VIP seats and watch as their chances slipped away before they even began. With every victory, they knew they were only getting closer and closer to being fully cut off.

Jaune stole a glance at the row of faculty. Every single woman there was visibly seething, their postures rigid, their expressions stormy. One professor, a stern-looking woman from Shade Academy, was gripping the arms of her chair so tightly that the metal was beginning to bend under her Aura-enhanced strength. Another, a Mistrali instructor with a regal presence, sat completely still, but Jaune could see the sheer fury in her eyes as she stared at the victorious team on the battlefield.

Glynda, sitting closest to him, was shaking ever so slightly, her jaw tight, her glasses slipping down her nose as she exhaled slowly through clenched teeth. He hadn't slept with her since their first time together. Turned out, the fantasy of fucking your hot professor wasn't as cool when you were still in the middle of hard PTSD.

Minutes passed. Another match ended, and another team lost.

And the reaction was even worse.

"Noooooooo!" a girl from vacuo collapsed onto the ground, openly sobbing, "I was gonna be the one! The one to claim the guy!"

Her teammate, a faunus with a flail, threw her weapon down with a shriek, her fluffy wolf tail lashing wildly, "I've never wanted anything more in my entire life!"

The third, a towering girl with dark skin and massive biceps, ripped off her headband and threw it to the ground like she was declaring war on the universe, "What did I do wrong?! Was it my technique?! Was it my diet?! Was it my aura control?! I did everything right!"

The fourth just curled into a fetal position and whispered, "The Sisters are cruel..."

Jaune buried his face in his hands, letting out a long, tired sigh. His memory of Vytal had been forever tained by the Fall. And yet, a part of him dared to hope that maybe he could find some fun in this world's tournament, even if he'd used it as a springboard to get the Huntresses of his back.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Jaune turned just in time to see a losing Huntress from Haven attempt to vault over the arena railing, eyes locked onto him like a predator locked onto prey. Jaune tensed. She leapt...only for her entire body to be covered by a purple Aura before she was none-too-gently slammed back down onto the arena floor, "Contestants are not allowed on the VIP section," Glynda said coolly, obviously relishing the power play.

The girl howled in despair as she was dragged away by her sobbing team. Jaune turned back toward the battlefield and exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples.

Hours later and Jaune was done.

The preliminaries had finally, finally ended, and Jaune was more than ready to get the hell out of the arena. Away from the sobbing, screaming, tantrum-throwing Huntresses who had lost, and straight to his room where he could barricade himself in for the night. Maybe he'd build a fort. A safe zone. Somewhere away from the madness. Maybe he could live out that childhood dream he had and make a pillow fort. Yeah, that sounded nice.

He was just about to stand up, his body already turning toward the exit, when the doors to the VIP booth slammed open with enough force to shake the walls. He turned with the sort of slow, tired inevitability of a man who already knew this was about to be something deeply, deeply stupid.

And, oh boy, he was right.

She was tall, elegant, and dressed in an elaborate red and black gown that somehow managed to be both regal and completely impractical for any kind of physical activity. She carried herself with an air of confidence, like she was meant to be here, as if her presence alone should have stunned the entire room into awe.

Her aura radiated the unmistakable energy of a woman who had been so deeply horny for so long that her mere presence was enough to make the weaker-willed Huntresses in the booth suddenly tense like prey sensing an apex predator. Huntresses were thirsty, yes, but this woman...she was thirst incarnate. The living manifestation of pure sexual frustration.

Salem. She looked...different. Her long, silver-white hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail instead of the elaborate updo Jaune had seen in his world and her Grimm-corrupted veins were completely hidden. And yet, despite all her valiant efforts at disguise, there were some very crucial mistakes. Her skin was still a perfect shade of unnatural, chalky white and her eyes were still a glowing, demonic shade of red and black. Her 'disguise' didn't change the fact that she looked like a Witch straight out of a nightmare.

Jaune stared. Glynda stared. Everyone in the VIP section stared, "...Salem?" Jaune asked flatly.

The woman gasped dramatically, clutching her chest, "Who? I have never heard of such a person!" she declared in an overly theatrical voice, like a bad stage actress fumbling her lines. He'd never met her in person before, but he had the feeling that the Salem from back home wasn't this cringe.

Jaune rubbed his temples, "Uh-huh."

"I am Samantha! Samantha...uh..." She visibly struggled, eyes darting around for inspiration, then triumphantly declared, "Samantha Shade! Yes! A totally normal woman with no dark ambitions whatsoever!" She posed dramatically, hands on her hips, "I have come to participate in this...tournament of passion! To win the heart - and body - of the legendary John of No-Last-Name! For he is a prize worthy of conquest!"

Jaune clenched his fists, "No."

"But of course!" Salem - Samantha - continued, as if she hadn't heard him, "Surely a man of such esteem would not refuse a worthy suitor! A woman of grace, intelligence, beauty, and an army of Grimm- I mean! An army of charm! And, um...love! So, so much love..." She giggled lewdly.

Jaune let out a very long breath through his nose, his grip tightening on the armrest of his chair, "No."

Glynda, who had been silent throughout this entire mess, adjusted her glasses and sighed, "Well...I suppose we can amend the rules given these unique circumstances," she said, sounding just a little too pleased with herself.

Jaune turned to her so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, "What?"

Glynda smirked, "The tournament was made with students in mind, yes, but it's clear from Sal- Samantha's appearance that this year's tournament is unique. We've already gotten complaints from numerous Huntresses. It's undermining the unity and cooperation that the tournament was created for." She gave a very pointed glance toward Jaune, "More negativity means more Grimm, Jaune. Surely, you're not saying letting that resentment fester is better than amending the rules?"

Jaune's eye twitched, "You know exactly who that is."

Glynda sipped her tea, her expression neutral, "Do I?"

Jaune exhaled sharply through his nose. He could feel Salem's self-satisfied grin radiating from across the room. He turned back toward her and pointed a finger, "Fine. Whatever. You know what? Enter. Lose. I don't care." He still hated Salem, but if she was anything like the one from his world, then running her through with Crocea Mors' broken blade wouldn't do anything.

Salem let out a delighted little laugh that sent a chill down his spine, clasping her hands together like she'd just been gifted a kingdom, "Splendid! This is the first step toward our glorious union!"

Jaune grit his teeth. First step toward a restraining order, maybe. But before he could tell her to get the hell out, Glynda cleared her throat again, still far too smug for his liking, "And of course, since we're now amending the competition rules, it would only be fair if other...qualified candidates were also allowed to participate."

Jaune's eyes narrowed, "Gods damn it."

"Oh yes," Glynda purred, adjusting her glasses, "If adult Huntresses may compete, then the Professors also may now enter the tournament."

The reaction was instant. The previously stewing, seething faculty members in the VIP booth suddenly exploded into excitement. Chairs were pushed back, scrolls were whipped out, and several of them cheered in a manner deeply unprofessional for academic figures, "Finally!" shouted one of the Shade Academy instructors, stretching her arms like she was already warming up.

"Oh, I knew this day would come," an Atlesian professor whispered, staring at her hands as though she were blessed.

"I need to go change into my combat outfit immediately," a Mistrali professor declared, already making a run for the exit.

Glynda remained perfectly composed, sipping her tea like a woman who had absolutely not just engineered a full-blown war. Jaune groaned and slumped back in his chair. This was not how this was supposed to go.

[line break]

Days later, the Vytal Tournament had become a complete and utter farce. What was once an esteemed competition meant to showcase the best of the best from each kingdom had devolved into something that could only be described as a desperate, battle-crazed war for one man's dick. Okay, granted it was already like that, but there was still a sense of fairness to it all. Each student had a feasible chance of winning, and that kept it from being too chaotic (breakdowns aside).

Jaune sat in the VIP booth, rubbing his temples, wondering for the hundredth time how he'd let it get this bad. The moment the rules were amended to allow any Huntress to enter, the floodgates had burst open. Word had spread like wildfire, and Huntresses from across Remnant signed up in droves. Students who had originally been excited about the tournament now found themselves in a full-blown nightmare. The first rounds had been tense, sure, but now? The true power imbalance had become painfully clear.

Atlas had sent over entire squadrons of Huntresses, all clad in sleek military combat uniforms, moving with the deadly precision of trained soldiers. Mistral's warriors came in waves, each one an elegant, poetic vision of destruction. Vacuo's entrants were borderline feral, fighting like they had nothing to lose because, well, they didn't. And then there were the Vale Huntresses, the ones who refused to be outdone by the sudden influx of foreign competition.

To put it simply: the students never stood a chance.

Jaune exhaled as he watched yet another team of third-year students get absolutely demolished in the ring by a group of hardened veterans. The match barely lasted a minute before it ended in a spectacle of shattered Aura meters, unconscious bodies, and soul-shattering despair.

The bell rang.

The winners - an elite team of Huntresses from Shade - didn't even celebrate. They just nodded at each other and walked off, as if utterly unimpressed by the lack of challenge.

The losers?

Oh, the losers screamed.

The leader of the defeated team collapsed to her knees in a dramatic wail, arms raised to the heavens as though the gods themselves had forsaken her, "Why?" she sobbed, "I trained for this. This was supposed to be my moment."

Another pounded her fists into the ground, shaking violently, "This isn't fair! They're cheating! They have to be cheating! How are these matchups allowed?!"

One of them just curled up in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, whispering, "It's okay, I can still win his heart...I just need another chance...just one more chance..."

Jaune grimaced. He turned his head slightly to see how the professors were taking things. Predictably, they were just as competitive as the students, if not worse. Unlike the younger Huntresses, they had years - decades - of pent-up frustration and discipline. The moment they were allowed into the tournament, they threw themselves into fighting with the kind of intensity usually reserved for life-or-death missions. Even Glynda was competing, and she was downright vicious.

He watched her utterly dismantle a team of younger Huntresses earlier in the day, adjusting her glasses with barely concealed smugness as she walked off the battlefield without a scratch. Other professors weren't much better. Some, like the hardened instructors from Atlas and Haven, took this as the ultimate test of their skills, proving they were still superior to their students. Others were just out for blood, furious that they even had to fight at all for what they believed should be rightfully theirs.

He sighed again and turned back to the arena just as another team stepped forward to challenge Winter's team.

Weiss and Yang. The couples round. Jaune braced himself.

The match started and ended just as quickly. Winter annihilated them. One hit. Two hits. Done. Weiss barely had time to register what had happened before she was flat on her back, staring up at the sky with a look of pure, horrified betrayal. As the bell rang, signaling her loss, the arena fell into silence, "No," Weiss whispered, staring up at the ceiling. Her hands slowly clenched into fists, "No, no, no, no, no-"

Then the shrieking started. She shot up, pointing a trembling finger at her older sister, her pale cheeks flushed with indignant rage, "You did that on purpose!"

Winter barely spared her a glance, gracefully brushing imaginary dust off her Atlesian uniform, "I did what was necessary. If you had truly wanted victory, you would have fought harder."

Jaune buried his face in his hands. Weiss stomped her foot on the ground, her entire body trembling with a mixture of rage and devastation, "This is a crime! A travesty! I will sue every last one of you into the ground!"

Winter finally turned to look at her, her expression cool and utterly unimpressed, "You couldn't even sue the last man who filed a restraining order against you, Weiss. What makes you think you can take on an entire international tournament?"

Weiss let out a horrified gasp, her entire world crumbling before her eyes. Yang, meanwhile, was still lying flat on the ground. She was out of it, but he was sure that wouldn't last long. He got the feeling there'd be a lot of property damage down in Vale before the day was done.

Weiss immediately turned to the referees, looking personally offended that they had allowed this 'injustice' to occur, "Where is your honor? Where is your integrity?!"

One of the officials coughed awkwardly, "Miss Schnee, the match was fair-"

"Fair?!" Weiss let out a horrified laugh, gripping at her hair, "Do I look like someone who was fairly beaten?"

"Well...you did lose," the referee muttered under her breath.

Weiss let out an inhuman screech and threw herself onto the ground, thrashing around in pure, unfiltered despair, "It should have been me! It should have been meeeeee!" Jaune winced and apologized in his head to Weiss - his Weiss - for seeing a version of her like this.

Winter turned on her heel and walked off the stage, giving Jaune one last glance. He didn't know if it was the lighting or his paranoia, but he swore she smirked.

[line break]

The arena was filled with deafening cheers, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. The final day of the Vytal Tournament had arrived, and only the oldest, most experienced Huntresses (plus 'Samantha'...) remained. These were women who had spent decades honing their craft, seasoned warriors who had fought countless battles, slain Grimm by the thousands, and now, at the peak of their careers, had dedicated themselves to one final, all-important mission.

Winning him.

Jaune didn't even pretend to care. He had spent the last week watching Huntresses of all ages tear each other apart in a spectacle of desperation, leaving the broken, sobbing losers to wail about their shattered dreams in the halls of Beacon. He had endured an entire tournament of weeping, tantrum-throwing women, bitter professors grumbling about how they should have won, and more thirst-fueled fights than he cared to count.

He was done. Let them fight. Let them die if they wanted to. He just wanted a damn soda.

With that, he stood from his seat in the VIP booth, ignoring Glynda's questioning look, and quietly slipped out of the arena. He wandered through the abandoned hallways of Beacon, the muffled sounds of the tournament growing distant as he approached one of the vending machines tucked away in a quiet corner of the academy. He fished a few lien out of his pocket, pressed the button, and waited as the machine clunked and spat out a can of cold, carbonated bliss.

Finally. A moment of peace.

Jaune cracked the soda open with a satisfying hiss, barely bringing it to his lips before the air beside him shimmered. A golden portal tore open right next to him, crackling with familiar energy. He blinked, startled, and almost dropped his drink as four figures emerged from the swirling light, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

And then he froze.

Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang. Not the versions from this twisted world. No, he recognized their faces and outfits instantly - the real them. His team. His friends. He could tell just by the way they moved, the way they carried themselves, the way they weren't looking at him like starving wolves circling a fresh meal. There were all the familiar sights. Yang's robot arm, Weiss and Blake's questionable hairstyle choics, and Ruby's pure silver eyes.

Those same eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, a mix of worry and sadness flashing across her face, "Jaune…" she said softly, stepping toward him, "She said you were gone a long time, but..." She shook her her head, "We can fix this. Fix you. We can fix everything."

Jaune's brain short-circuited.

Weiss, standing beside her, studied him with an uncharacteristic gentleness in her gaze, "You don't have to go through this alone anymore," she murmured, "However much time you lost… we'll get it back. We promise."

"Are you okay?" Blake asked, eyes scanning him carefully, "You look..." She hesitated, as if searching for the right words. She didn't find them.

Yang smirked, punching his shoulder lightly, though even she looked concerned, "Yeah, Blondie, you...really grew up." She smiled, trying to comfort him.

Jaune just stood there, staring at them.

They were real. They were real.

His heart pounded, his breath hitched, and for a long, agonizing moment, he couldn't make himself move. He was afraid - terrified - that if he reached out, they would vanish, that this was another cruel joke played by the universe, another nightmare in this endless string of absurdity.

But they didn't disappear. Ruby kept talking, explaining something about how some "Blacksmith" had sent them here, how they could "fix everything," how they could finally bring him home. He barely heard her. His hands trembled and his body moved on instinct.

Before he could stop himself, before he could even think, he reached out and pulled them all into a crushing, desperate hug. Ruby squeaked in surprise. Weiss stiffened in his arms. Blake let out a soft, startled gasp. Yang blinked before letting out a chuckle.

None of them tried to pull away.

They didn't take it as a sign, didn't assume he was trying to propose or seduce them. They didn't giggle into his ear, didn't whisper about how much they wanted him. They didn't moan or melt or act like he'd just given them a sacred invitation to drag him into the nearest bedroom. They were just...there.

Solid. Real. Safe.

Jaune squeezed his eyes shut, gripping onto them like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

He'd spent years in the Ever After and then weeks here. A world where every Huntress - every woman he knew in this world - was a deranged, desperate lunatic hellbent on making him their personal breeding stock. A world where friendships didn't exist, only hunger, only want. A world where he couldn't trust anyone.

But this? This was home. He wasn't alone anymore.

The moment of quiet, desperate relief didn't last. Of course, it didn't. Because this world hated him. Jaune hadn't even gotten the chance to breathe in the comfort of his friend's presence before the moment was shattered. Laughter echoed down the hall. Familiar laughter. The kind that immediately sent a chill down his spine.

Jaune didn't even need to turn around to know what fresh hell was about to descend upon him, "Oh Jaune~!" His entire body locked up. Weiss. Not his Weiss. No, the Weiss from this world. The Weiss that'd spent the last several weeks throwing tantrums, screaming about how it should have been her, and making aggressive, lawsuit-worthy attempts to get into his pants because she was convinced she was entitled to him due to their misunderstanding.

And she wasn't alone. Blake and Yang were with her, sauntering around the corner with the kind of confidence that only came from knowing 'No' meant 'Try harder'.

Jaune barely had time to turn his head before they were on him, "Jaune, darling, I simply must insist-" Cringe Weiss began, flipping her hair with practiced grace, "Tournament or not, we don't have to make this complicated! We can still be together! I deserve this!*"

He opened his mouth, only for Cringe Blake to cut in, her voice dripping with faux-tragic longing, "It's true," she murmured, placing a dramatic hand over her chest, "You don't have to choose the winner of some arbitrary competition. That's so...clinical. Love should be messy, passionate, spontaneous..." She leaned in, her amber eyes practically smoldering, "Like us~" She purred. As in, literally purred like a cat in heat.

Jaune took an instinctive step back, his eye twitching, Cringe Yang smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder, "C'mon, big guy," she cooed, voice sultry, "Fuck the tournament. You know the real prize is the friends we made along the way." She winked, "And the friends we can make tonight."

It took everything in Jaune's power not to scream. He didn't even get a word in before his actual friends reacted. Weiss, Blake, and Yang were frozen in sheer, abject horror. They gawked at their counterparts, their expressions cycling through shock, disgust, and soul-deep shame.

Weiss was the first to crack, "Wh-What is WRONG with you?!" she sputtered, staring at 'herself' like she was witnessing the Schnee name being dragged through the mud in real time, "Do you have absolutely NO dignity?!"

"I don't need dignity," this world's Weiss shot back immediately, "I need a boyfriend." The fact that she was literally talking to her reflection in a different outfit didn't seem to register in the horny heiress' mind. All she saw was another woman between her and him.

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. Blake wasn't any better. She was staring at herself, her ears stiff with what could only be described as mortified self-loathing, "Do I...actually sound like that?" she whispered in horror, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Jaune deadpanned.

"I - oh Brothers." Blake clapped a hand over her mouth and looked like she was about to throw up.

Yang, meanwhile, just stared at 'herself', her usual cocky grin nowhere to be found. Her lilac eyes flicked to Jaune, to her counterpart, back to Jaune, then back to her counterpart again. Slowly, she turned to Blake and Weiss, her voice completely blank, "If I ever act like that," she said, monotone, "Kill me."

Cringe Yang rolled her eyes, "Whatever, you blonde bimbo. I saw him first."

Ruby just stood there, watching the entire disaster unfold with the kind of haunted expression usually reserved for survivors of near-death experiences, "The Blacksmith said this world was like ours. Similar but different..." She turned to Jaune, her voice filled with deep unsettled concern, "...How long have you been stuck here?"

"Too long."

"How are you still sane?"

"I'm not."

This world's Blake suddenly stepped forward, reaching for Jaune's hand with the kind of tragic, tortured heroine of a bad romance novel expression that made Jaune want to die, "Jaune," she whispered, "Please."

Jaune yanked his hand back like she was about to stab him, "No."

"Jaune~," Cringe Weiss whined.

"No."

"Jaune~," Cringe Yang purred.

"No."

"Jaune~," Cringe Blake sighed.

"NO."

Weiss buried her face in her hands. Blake was still mumbling about how embarrassing this was. Yang just kept muttering kill me under her breath. Jaune? He just wanted to go home. And he was just about to do that and leave this crazy world behind when a voice bellowed.

"I HAVE TRIUMPHED!"

Jaune didn't even flinch. Of course she was here. Salem strode in like a queen returning from war, her red and black gown flowing behind her, her very poorly disguised face glowing with victory, "The tournament is over! I have crushed all who stood before me! The prize is MINE!" She pointed at Jaune, "Now, come to my bed, my love!"

Jaune sighed, "No."

Before Salem could respond to the blatant betrayal, a sharp, familiar growl cut through the air. Jaune barely had time to blink before Ruby stepped in front of him, Crescent Rose unfolding with a metallic snap. The rest of Team RWBY followed immediately, slipping into combat stances, their eyes locked onto Salem with war-hardened fury.

Oh. Right. Jaune forgot to mention that this Remnant's biggest nightmare was somehow a cringe, thirsty disaster instead of a genocidal witch, "Jaune, get back!" Ruby snapped, her eyes burning with silver light, "We'll handle this!"

Weiss already had her Myrtenaster aimed at Salem's chest, "I don't know what the hell is going on, but we are not letting her take you!"

Blake drew Gambol Shroud, her body coiled like a spring, "We take her down. Fast."

Yang cracked her knuckles, her eyes turning red, "I call first punch."

Jaune looked between team RWBY, Salem, and the cringe version of themselves who were watching the scene in confusion. And then, an idea struck, "Ruby," he said, turning to her, "Are the portals one-time use?"

She blinked, still bristling, "Huh?"

"The portals," Jaune repeated, "Can they go both ways over and over again?"

Ruby frowned, thrown off by the question, "I-I didn't ask. But the Blacksmith never said they weren't. Why?"

Jaune looked at the portal then at Salem. He'd seen her fight in the tournament. She was powerful. Even Glynda was basically a kid throwing rocks next to her. And judging from everything else, she was also immortal and could control the Grimm.

He eyed the Cringe versions of his friends next. They weren't as harshly tested from the Fall like they were, but they - and everyone else in this school - were still Huntresses. And right now, they needed a hell of a lot more of those back in Remnant.

Jaune took a slow, measured breath, rolling his shoulders back as he faced the most powerful, most terrifying, and most cringey entity in this world. Salem stood before him, hands on her hips, eyes gleaming with triumph and something far too sultry for his comfort.

This was a terrible idea. But at this point, what wasn't a terrible idea? "Salem," he said carefully, straightening up and ignoring the way Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang tensed behind him, ready for a fight, "We need to talk."

Salem smirked, tilting her head, her silken white hair cascading over her shoulder, "It's Samantha, dearest, but that doesn't matter. There is nothing to discuss. You are mine, as promised by the rules of this-" she gave an exaggerated wave of her hand, "-glorious tournament. The prize was clear. You belong to me now."

Jaune inhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. He had been exhausted for weeks. He was beyond exhausted. But now, somehow, he had to make the impossible happen, "Look," he began, lowering his hand and locking eyes with her, "I'm not from this world."

There was a beat of silence before Salem laughed, "Oh, my love," she cooed, stepping forward with an amused smile, "You are quite the comedian. I do enjoy a man with a sense of humor "

"I'm serious," Jaune interrupted, voice firm, "I'm not from this Remnant. I come from another one. And I'm leaving. Right now. Through that portal."

That finally made her pause. Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of something akin to wariness in her gaze, "You're...leaving?" she repeated slowly, like the very concept was foreign to her.

He nodded, "Yeah. And I have to go back."

Her face twisted into a frown, and for a second, he thought she might start throwing a tantrum like Weiss had done when she lost in the tournament (or maybe blow up Beacon in a rage), but he lifted a hand to stop her, "But," he continued, carefully, "I do have a proposition."

That caught her attention. Her eyes gleamed with interest again, "Go on."

Jaune exhaled slowly, glancing at his own version of Team RWBY, all of them looking deeply uncomfortable watching the interaction. Ruby had her lips pressed into a tight frown, Weiss had her arms crossed with a scowl, Blake's body was tensed like a spring, and Yang looked like she was two seconds away from trying to punch her alternate self on principle.

He ignored them and focused on Salem, "If you settle for just me," he said slowly, "You'll always be limited. You'll always be stuck in a world where men fear you. Cause I'll die eventually, and then where will you be? Back at the beginning making up schemes to try and get laid. But," he gestured toward the glowing portal, "What if there was a world full of men who wanted you? A world where men willingly joined your harem instead of running in terror?"

Salem froze. Her crimson eyes widened, and for a long, long moment, Jaune saw something shatter in her soul...before it was rebuilt firmer than ever before, "A world where..." she whispered, almost breathless, "...where they want to be mine?"

"That's right," Jaune said, taking a step closer, speaking in the smoothest, most convincing voice he could muster, "An entire world of men who wouldn't resist you. Who would see your strength, your power, and find it attractive. No more chasing. No more hunting them down. Just...willing followers."

Salem gasped, pressing a delicate hand to her chest, "Willing?" she repeated, almost choking on the word, "You mean to tell me there is an entire world where I would not have to conquer my lovers? Where they would come to me of their own accord?!"

Jaune nodded, keeping his face blank, "And all I'm asking in return is for you to help us stop the other you. Because she isn't trying to build a harem. She's trying to kill everyone."

Salem gasped in abject horror, stepping back, her face stricken with devastation, "Kill everyone?!" she cried, "But that's...so many men wasted?!"

Jaune didn't even blink, "Exactly," he said with a nod, "So many lost...so many that could have been yours. And she's throwing them away."

Salem clenched her fists, "The atrocity! The sheer waste! Unacceptable!" Her eyes blazed with righteous (horny) fury, "This other me - this fraud! - has utterly failed our true purpose!" Her voice shook with rage , "How could she be so blind? She was given a gift - an entire world of men to claim, and she squanders it by trying to eradicate them?! This will not stand! I will not allow such a crime against Remnant's most precious treasures!"

"Exactly. And think of how grateful the men would be when you saved them from the monster trying to kill them all. They'd worship you." Salem shuddered at that. Jaune barely resisted the urge to facepalm. Whatever, at least now he had her hooked.

Time to do the same with the others. His gaze shifted to the other Weiss, Yang, and Blake, who'd been watching with rapt attention, their eyes practically sparkling with interest. He straightened, leveling them with a knowing look, "And what about you three?" he asked, "You aren't interested in a world where men want you? Where they appreciate you? Where they see your desperation as hot instead of pathetic?"

The effect was immediate. "Yes!" they blurted in unison.

Weiss grabbed his sleeve, looking desperate, "We can have that?!" she cried, "We can have a world where we're admired for our devotion instead of mocked?!"

Yang punched a nearby wall hard enough to leave a dent, "Finally! No more guys screaming! No more guys telling me I'm too aggressive! No more restraining orders!" She turned to Blake, grabbing her by the shoulders, "People are are gonna think we're hot, Blake! HOT!"

Blake exhaled through her nose, nodding solemnly, "I've never wanted anything more."

Jaune exhaled, relieved but also deeply, deeply tired, "Good," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Then we're in agreement. You help us stop ourSalem, and in return, you all get a whole new world to work with. A world's that's gonna be grateful to the people who saved them."

Salem beamed, her entire blackened soul alight with joy, "Oh, my love," she purred, stepping forward, her hands resting on his chest, "You truly are a visionary."

Jaune immediately stepped back, keeping her at arm's length, "No. You can have a harem there. Keep me out of it."

She just giggled, still drunk on the idea of being wanted. Jaune clenched his fists. He was so done with this world. Team RWBY just stared at him in utter horror. Weiss spoke first, "Jaune," she said, her voice slow, careful, "What the hell did you just do?"

Jaune ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed, "Something incredibly stupid. Now come on, if we're gonna go back, we're gonna need an army."

[line break]

It was over. For all the horrors that had befallen Remnant - the wars, the tragedies, the impossible battles against the unstoppable - none of them had prepared Salem for this. Her plans had been centuries, millenia in the making. She spent lifetimes constructing her perfect scheme, manipulating the very foundations of the world, guiding fate itself like a puppeteer of destiny. Her eternal war with Ozpin, all for the sake of killing herself.

And then she had. Not to an army of heroes, not to the last defenders of Remnant rallying for one final, desperate stand. No. She'd lost to herself and a horde of the thirstiest, most down-bad women Remnant had ever seen.

It had been a massacre. Not of life, surprisingly - oh, no. The battle had been bloodless. The genocidal Salem hadn't even had time to unleash her Grimm hordes properly before thousands - literally thousands - of desperate Huntresses had poured through the portal, their sheer feral determination enough to dismantle her entire operation in hours.

There had been no strategic flanking, no well-planned ambushes, no coordinated strikes against key strongholds. It was pure, desperate thirst.

Salem was been expecting heroes and warriors. She wasn't expecting herself, but horny. Not did she anticipate thousands of deranged, desperate women who'd found an entirely new world where men actually liked them and would happily accept their advances. They didn't need to fight for scraps anymore. They didn't need to pretend they were fine with rejection. They could be free to be as horny and desperate as they wanted without fear of being universeally rejected.

And that was what had made them unstoppable.

The Grimm had been overwhelmed instantly. When faced with an army that didn't produce fear - only sheer, unbridled, manic excitement - they had no idea what to do. Never before had a Grimm experienced a foe that didn't fear them, but rather, saw them as an annoyance keeping them from their happiness.

The Beowolves were kicked aside with frustration, the Beringels were yeeted into the horizon, and a an Alpha Nevermore had burst into flame after getting suplexed by a particularly enraged Huntress screaming that she wasn't going back to being alone, damn it!

And Salem herself? The great, immortal witch? The ruler of darkness? She'd fallen too.

As Jaune watched the aftermath, standing at the edge of what had once been the Palace of the Grimmlands, he couldn't help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and secondhand embarrassment. I

Salem was sealed in a reinforced magical prison - not killed, because, well, she couldn't die - but between the alternate version of herself and the sheer volume of Huntresses now flooding this world, her power had been completely neutralized. Her minions were either dead or imprisoned. He'd made that clear in the negotations. They could flirt with men, but any minions of Salem were off-limits. The Huntresses were eager to agree.

The portals between the two worlds remained open, a permanent gateway connecting them both. Whether that was due to the Blacksmith's influence or something else entirely, Jaune didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. The two worlds were now connected, and both had quickly embraced the benefits of it. Huntresses got a world where they could be themselves, and the people of this Remnant had access to a less fucked-up version of their world.

Which, of course, meant the other Salem had gotten exactly what she wanted. She already had a harem hundreds of men strong. And it was growing by the day.

Jaune sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched Samantha - who insisted on still calling herself that - lounging in a massive silk-draped throne, surrounded by a very eager selection of men. Back in her world, her obsession had been seen as cringe, terrifying, and made her a threat to all of mankind. But here? The men of this Remnant saw a powerful, dominant, eternal queen obsessed with them and decided, Yeah, actually, that sounds great.

They lined up. No war. No conquest. Just a ridiculous, fairy-tale ending where a deathless witch finally got her perfect harem of adoring, willing men with more and more coming every day. They scrambled fo her attention, begging her to have her way with them, and she looked so damn euphoric at that fact. It was like she was living life on a perpetual high.

And she wasn't the only one who won. Thousands of Huntresses - former students, professors, warriors of all ages - wandered through Remnant finally getting what they'd always wanted. They were appreciated. Their aggressive, over-the-top thirst was no longer seen as pathetic. No, in this world, they were considered hot. It transformed their lives completely.

Jaune had already heard the news. Weiss - the other Weiss - had successfully courted a famous Mistrali poet and was now writing ballads about their romance. Raunchy ballads, of course, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Other Yang had immediately found success in Vacuo, where being bold and unhinged was seen as an ideal personality trait in a woman. And Blake? Jaune didn't even want to know, but if half the rumors from Menagerie were true, then apparently she'd found someone as into roleplaying as she was. And that was terrifying.

In the end, they'd all gotten what they wanted. Remnant was safe and the war was over.

And what about him? The guy'd who had spent weeks in another world being relentlessly pursued and suffered in fairy tale hell for years before that? Well, Ruby was true to her word. They fixed him...mostly. His age had been reset when he came back. Nineteen again, though the stubble on his face remained for some reason. He was gonna shave it off, but Weiss insisted he keep it. Apparently, it made him look more disgnified and mature. He didn't see it, but whatever.

And as he stood there on a hill, watching this complete, absurd farce of a happy ending unfold, he ran a hand down his face and sighed, "...I am such an idiot."

A warm chuckle made him glance to the side where Ruby stood, watching with crossed arms and a half-smile, "Yeah," she said, nodding in agreement, "But, you know, you're our idiot. And you did save the world, even you had to do it by turning Remnant into the ultimate thirst trap."

Jaune groaned, rubbing his temples, "Yeah, yeah."

She patted his shoulder, "Come on, let's go home, dummy," she said, her voice warm.

Jaune let out a final, exhausted sigh. Yeah. Home. That sounded nice.

[line break]

Huh, so...happy ending? Jaune makes it back home, Remnant is saved, and all the Baalbuddy Huntresses get to travel/vacation in a world where they're seen as the ultimate hotness instead of walking restraining orders.

Next Rizzless omake will be Volume 1 Jaune. That one is more comedic since that Jaune is all-in on Weiss wanting him to plap plap her in the park and bragging about how awesome Jaune is to everyone.

Jaune Musuo - Chapter 2

Part 2 of 2 of Jaune Musou. Team RWBY dealing with First Kingdom Problems.

[line break]

The grim reality of the mook exodus didn't just hit Weiss - it hit all of them.

They'd brushed it off at first, convinced that the militiamen, White Fang, and other assorted goons would eventually come crawling back once they realized that farming or blacksmithing or whatever dumb menial jobs they had scurried off to couldn't possibly be as rewarding as getting stomped into the dirt for Huntsman pocket change. Sure it wasn't a glamorous life, but it still must've been better compared to packing groceries or planting crops, right?

But as the days turned to weeks, the sheer weight of economic devastation settled over them. Missions remained unfulfilled, contracts went unsigned, and the Huntsmens' once overflowing bank accounts saw nothing but withdrawals and no replenishments, reality came crashing down on Team RWBY harder than any of them had ever expected.

[line break]

Early on, Yang waved off their worries, dismissing the whole thing as a temporary problem. It was just a minor setback, she said. They'd come crawling back once they got bored. Then the weeks dragged on, battlefields stayed empty, and not a single whimpering grunt signed up to get launched into orbit by one of her patented flaming uppercuts. They weren't coming back, and that Yang began to experience something she never thought she would feel in her life.

Withdrawal.

Not just from the sweet, sweet dopamine of effortlessly styling on an entire militia and sending poor fools flying through the air like ragdolls, but from the money.

Yang, to quote Weiss, was used to a certain lifestyle. Fancy drinks, custom upgrades for bumbleby, and high-quality sunglasses that cost more than most people's monthly rent. Why shouldn't she splurge on herself, she asked once. Money was there to be spent, not hoard.

But now that the paychecks stopped coming in and she saw her balance drop every time she withdrew even the smallest amount, she finally reached the point where she had to make a terrifying decision: she'd have to start cutting back.

She stared down at the battered menu of the cheap, absolutely bottom-tier bar she had never once set foot in before, hands trembling slightly as she counted her Lien. She couldn't afford her usual Strawberry Sunrise. No, she had to make do with less.

Her hands shook as she reached for the cheapest option, her fingers clenching into a fist before she slammed her head onto the bar with a groan, "This isn't fair..." she whined. The bartender - who had seen far worse meltdowns in his time - wordlessly poured her a drink.

Yang took one sip, winced violently, and seriously contemplated taking up a part-time job.

[line break]

Ruby was one of the loudest complainers when the mooks first quit, pouting and stomping around like a kid who had just been told Christmas was canceled (cause it basically was), complaining about how she couldn't get any EXP, couldn't level up, and was stuck at the same skill threshold for weeks because fighting Grim just wasn't the same. Grimm hordes were a thing of the past, and even they didn't give as much money and EXP as an afternoon styling on some people who didn't stand a chance against her.

But all of her EXP woes paled in comparison to the true, lasting tragedy of the whole thing.

She couldn't afford her weapon modifications anymore. No more custom-built upgrades. No more experimental scythe attachments. No more 'what if I turned Crescent Rose into a folding glaive with a hidden shotgun inside of it' ideas.

Nothing.

For the first time in years, Ruby was stuck with the same version of her weapon she'd been using since last semester. The materials were too expensive, and the rent for the forge she'd been renting was steep enough that she couldn't afford to renew her lease.

It wasn't even that Crescent Rose was bad...but it wasn't better. And for someone like Ruby, someone who lived for the thrill of tinkering, improving, upgrading, it was absolute agony.

She sat at her workbench, staring down at the sad pile of scrap metal and half-finished parts that she didn't have the money to finish. Her expression was dark, her spirit utterly broken. She wanted to cry and apologize to her baby for not being able to spoil her this month because all those jerks ran off to get normal jobs. What was wrong with

Blake passed by, glancing up form her book, "You okay?"

Ruby exhaled slowly, looking up with an empty, haunted expression, "This...this is how normal people live, isn't it?" she whispered.

Blake patted her shoulder sympathetically. It didn't help.

[line break]

Blake had, at least for a while, barely noticed the economic collapse unfolding around them. While the others lamented their dwindling bank accounts and their inability to afford the many, many luxuries they'd taken for granted, she'd continued with business as usual, picking up a few small hunts here and there, reading in the quiet, and enjoying the newfound peace that came with not being interrupted every ten seconds by Yang boasting about how many mooks she'd launched that day.

She chalked that up to being raised differently. Weiss grew up spoiled on that Schnee money while Ruby and Yang had a Dad, two Moms, and an Uncle that were all Huntsmen during the peak of the mook beating renaissance. By contrast, all she had was living inside a mansion in a tropical island and two loving parents. She didn't grow up in the lap of luxury or care about expensive drinks, fashions, and penthouses. No, a good book and commissioning stories were all she needed.

...

It wasn't until she went to restock her personal library that it hit her.

She'd walked into her favorite bookstore, eyes uncharacteristically bright and ready to buy the next (limited edition) volume of her favorite series...only to stop cold when she saw the price tag. Her stomach sank. She pulled out her wallet, checked the balance. She could afford it, but only barely. It'd cut into her grocery budget and she wouldn't be able to afford that imported tuna she loved. She'd have to make do with some cheaper marlin instead.

Blake was a lot of things. A former revolutionary, a skilled Huntress, and a highly trained warrior. And now was standing motionless in the middle of a bookstore, weighing the decision between food and literature.

Her hands curled into fists. She could still afford to buy the regular book, of course, but it wouldn't have the author's autograph, their notes, or their first drafts. It would've just been the book itself. The same book thousands of others got.

...

With a deeply pained sigh, she put the book back on the shelf, turned, and walked out of the store like a woman who'd just lost everything.

[line break]

Weiss had tried so hard to convince herself that this was temporary, that the mooks would come crawling back, and that the economy would right itself. She refused to believe she'd ever be reduced to the state that the others had fallen into, but as the weeks stretched on, as her personal funds continued to dwindle and even her trust accounts started being flagged for 'excessive withdrawals', she'd finally reached the breaking point.

And now, here she was.

Standing in front of a discount store.

She stared at the entrance like it was the gates of hell, her entire being rejecting what was about to happen, her pride screaming at her to turn away, but her wallet - her miserable, pathetic, near-empty wallet - demanded otherwise. She needed new Dust cartridges, and going to her usual supplier wasn't an option right now.

She...She couldn't afford it.

She couldn't afford the premium ones anymore. She couldn't even afford the mid-tier ones. She didn't think it would be a problem. When she'd attacked that militia that contained that damnable Jaune Arc, she used up all of her Dust. Was it necessary? No, but she held herself to high standards. She wouldn't just come in swinging her fists like a brute the same way Yang did. She was a Schnee, and her position demanded she defeated her foes with elegance and grace.

...Now that grace had cost her.

And so, against every fiber of her being, the very foundation of her dignity, she took a deep breath, stepped forward, and entered...the discount aisle.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. It was so unfair.

[line break]

The reality of their situation had finally sunk in a couple of months later. There was no point in denying it any longer, no use in pretending that things would return to normal. No amount of of assurances could make them convince themselves that the mooks would come crawling back once they realized that farm work and blacksmithing didn't have the same thrill as getting suplexed into the dirt by a 5'8 blonde with anger issues.

The exp farms weren't coming back, the money fountain had dried up. And Team RWBY, like all Huntsmen, now had to take...other jobs.

[line break]

"Miss Huntress, are you even listening to me?"

Ruby forced a painfully strained smile, gripping Crescent Rose so tightly her knuckles turned even whiter down normal as she glanced at the very chatty noblewoman (she insisted on being called that cause she was a weirdo Atlesian) she'd been hired to escort across the city, "Yes, Lady...uh...Eleanor," she said, making an honest effort to remember her name while her brain slowly melted from boredom. This was worse than Professor Port's lectures.

"I said-" the noblewoman sniffed, adjusting her unnecessarily extravagant hat, "-That we must hurry. The gala starts in an hour, and I cannot possibly be late!" Ruby twitched. The way she emphasized her words was getting on the Huntress' nerves.

Ruby fought the urge to groan. She used to spend her days fighting armies. She used to zoom through battlefields slicing down entire battalions with absurd speed, dashing through explosions with reckless abandon, flipping over enemy commanders like it was a game. She'd chased after them when they ran and always pushed herself to break records. Her personal one was the time she'd sucked in 200 soldiers at once during a single spinning tornado.

And now?

Now she was walking at a snail's pace, escorting a rich, entitled woman to a stupid party, dodging complaints about how "uncouth" it was to carry such a "brutish" weapon, and stopping every ten minutes so her client could admire her own reflection in a storefront window.

It paid...fine. Not bad. Not great. Just fine. Enough to help her get some groceries and maybe a little treat, buthing more.

She wanted to die.

[line break]

Yang always considered herself a woman of action. She was a Huntress, damn it. A warrior, a fighter, someone who thrived on the thrill of battle, the rush of combat, the sheer, exhilarating joy of hitting someone so hard they crated the ground.

But somehow, she ended up here - standing completely still in front of some fancy high-profile businessman, arms crossed, watching a bunch of suits talk about stocks like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

She'd been hired as security. A bodyguard for some guy who'd never even seen a Grimm in real life and would probably faint if someone raised their voice at him.

There wasn't was even any danger. No rival businessmen or a someone else with a bone to pick. That would've at least been interested. No, it was just...standing like statue for hours. For normal pay. Pay that wasn't 'beating up a thousand guys and getting rich for it' pay, but 'this is what normal people make' pay.

She'd felt more empty inside. She suddenly remembered Dad's words about investing their earnings. She'd blown him off, snorting that she was way too young to worry about that kind of crap. Get back to her when she was 40 and hitting her midlife crisis.

She refused to admit he was right.

Yang turned her head slightly, glancing at her employer who was currently rambling about market projections. She wondered how much trouble she would get in if she just punched him for fun.

[line break]

Weiss was a warrior, a Huntress, and a duelist of unparalleled grace and skill. But most of all, she was a Schnee.Even among Huntresses, she stood out among her peers. All Huntsmen were strong, but she brought a certain dignity to the position that no one could hope to match. When hapless goons saw Weiss Schnee strutting across the field, they knew that it was the end.

And now she'd been hired...to find someone's missing house cat.

Weiss wanted to scream. It had taken three hours. Three agonizing, humiliating hours of crawling through alleyways, coaxing a stubborn feline out from beneath a stack of crates, and getting scratched across the face when the little beast finally decided to let itself be caught. It didn't hurt because of her Aura, but even the fact that she'd been scratched out by some feline had her simmering at the audacity and humiliation of it all.

All for 200 lien.

She'd walked back into town, the cat tucked under her arm as it hissed at her. Its owner beamed as he paid her the modest, completely underwhelming amount of lien. Her eye twitched. She'd tipped her waiter more back before this economic depression.

She took the money, sat down on the nearest bench, and buried her face in her hands. This was her life now. Days of aggressive mediocrity unless she wanted to bend the knee to her father again. Her gut churned with rage. Once she found Jaune Arc, she'd be sure to punch him straight in his smug face.

[line break]

Blake accepted her fate more gracefully than the others (or so she told herself). She'd always been a realist. She knew that nothing good lasted forever, that change was inevitable, and that adjustments had to be made. So when she found herself picking up odd jobs to make ends meet, she'd convinced herself that she was fine with it.

Until she got a fetch quest. A literal fetch quest.

She had been hired to retrieve an old lady's groceries. Not slay a Grimm, not stop a bandit raid (most of them gave up too), not fight an army. Just...get groceries.

She'd sprinted across battlefields, dodging melee weapons, deflected bullets, and delivered devastating blows to commanders three times her size-

And now she was running errands. It couldn't have even been quick too. She had to wait in line for two hours because today was coupon day.

Hours later, she stood in front of the kindly old woman who had given her the job, watching as she counted out the Lien coins one by one with agonizing slowness. Blake's ears flicked in silent frustration, "...Here you go, dear," the woman finally said, placing the payment in her hands with a warm smile. 150 lien, "Thank you so much."

Blake forced herself to smile back, "No problem, ma'am." She walked away, staring down at the meager pile of Lien in her palm before she clenched her fingers. Then she walked straight to the bookstore and bought herself a (cheap) novel, because if she was going to suffer, she was going to suffer on her own terms.

[line break]

If there was one thing that made the entire situation even more unbearable than it already was, one thing that turned the already crushing humiliation of their circumstances into something far worse, it was the memes.

They started off small at first, little jokes on the message boards, a few passing comments made by former militiamen reveling in their newfound freedom, harmless jabs about how it must be so hard for Huntresses now that they actually had to work for a living instead of speed-running battlefield-wide massacres for easy cash, but then they spread.

And theyspread fast.

Suddenly, every single Hunstman in Remnant who had ever taken a job that involved beating the absolute tar out of grunts for money (which was basically everyone) was now the target of an endless, inescapable tidal wave of mockery, every single one of them bombarded with images, gifs, jokes, and ruthless edits that had turned their suffering into the most popular online joke in all of Remnant.

A heavily edited image of Yang, holding a tiny, depressing paycheck in one hand while staring at a "Help Wanted" sign with a dead look in her eyes, captioned with "tfw you used to make 10,000 Lien for suplexing one guy and now you have to apply for retail" went viral overnight. And no matter how many times Yang tried to report the post, no matter how much she complained and claimed that she wasn't broke, it didn't matter. It was already too late - the meme was out in the wild, and the dustnet was ruthless.

The next was a picture of Ruby sitting at a public workbench looking absolutely devastated at the weapon upgrade she couldn't afford to complete. It had been paired with sad violin music and titled "top 10 tragic Huntress moments". The comments section were immediately flooded with former mooks saying things like, "imagine not being able to afford things because your job doesn't pay enough, can't relate" and, "LMAO cry harder, I had to work 14-hour shifts to pay for my armor while you were out here doing air combos on my entire squad."

Ruby whined and defend herself online, ignoring Weiss' warnings that it would only make things worse.

Weiss, who thought she was safe from the worst of it because surely no one would dare publicly mock a Schnee, had almost thrown her Scroll across the room when she opened the latest trending post only to find an edited picture of herself standing in the middle of a discount store aisle. She looked visibly distressed, staring at a bottle of generic-brand Dust with an absolutely haunted look in her eyes. It was captioned,"when you go from fighting for honor to fighting for coupons."

She had never been more furious in her entire life. She also vowed to hunt down whoever took that picture.

Blake had avoided the worst of the backlash somehow. Perhaps it was because she had a more lowkey lifestyle. Either way, Weiss resented her for it. She should've had the grace to at least suffer with them in solidarity.

But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no, they could've handled humiliation, much as it annoyed them. What really grindined their gears were just how unapologetic the former goons were. There were no olive branches, no regrets, no attempts to smooth things over. Nothing but endless smugness and an entire dustnet's worth of "you get what you deserve" energy coming at them from every angle, no matter where they turned. Ungrateful swine.

They were practically celebrating, openly mocking Huntsmen who had spent years treating them as cannon fodder, revelling in the fact that the economy had finally turned against them, that the days of easy money and endless beatdowns were gone. For the first time in history, Huntsmen actually had to experience the same kind of miserable, exhausting, average wage work that every single one of them had endured for years while getting mercilessly stomped on for barely enough Lien to buy a meal.

She was sure that Jaune Arc was responsible for this. He'd been the one to kickstart this whole thing and selfishly upend all their lives for his own selfish gain. Why couldn't he have just kept his head down? The system was working! It gave thousands of people jobs and ensured the Huntsmen were well-compensated. It was a well-oiled machine. But no, he decided to be a bastard and tear down the whole thing. Now she and ever other Huntsman on Remnant was suffering.

Weiss clenched her hands into shaky fists. This wasn't over, not by a longshot. She'd find a way to claw herself back to the position she deserved.

[line break]

Jaune, contrary to popular belief, wasn't sipping drinks on a sunny beach, nor was he reclining in a lavish mansion paid for by the suffering of Huntsmen who'd been forced to take honest work for normal pay. He wasn't even particularly well off.

No, Jaune was working the cash register at a grocery store. And honestly? He was fine with it. It wasn't glorious, it wasn't exciting, and it wasn't anything even remotely interesting. But it was stable. He didn't have to worry about his bruises getting bruises and the store was completely devoid of any Huntsmen yeeting him across a battlefield for funsies. The worst he had to deal with was the occasional Karne, and they were way easier. At least they couldn't air juggle him.

That was more than enough for him. With a steady paycheck, a work schedule that didn't involve getting thrown like a lawn dart every afternoon, and no one demanding he fight for his life against overpowered warriors in impractical outfits, he was perfectly content.

Which was why, when Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose showed up at his checkout lane, their shopping carts filled with carefully budgeted groceries, their expressions a mix of disbelief and poorly concealed frustration, he didn't react. Not out of rudeness or some smug sense of justified smug satisfaction, he just...didn't care. Without the threat of his face getting caved in, the pair of Huntresses were just two more customers in his eyes.

He didn't grovel, didn't react in shock, didn't even comment on how Weiss Schnee, the once-proud heiress, was standing in front of him clutching a fistful of coupons like a single mother trying to stretch her budget. He just scanned their items, bagged them up, and read off the total, "Alright, that'll be 128 Lien."

...

Ruby was too stunned to speak, her hands gripping her little wallet like she was still trying to process the emotional whiplash of seeing Jaune Damn Him to Hell Arc, of all people, working retail while she and Weiss had been running around doing side quests for normal pay. Her partner opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strangle little noise like she'd gorged on one cookie too many.

Weiss, on the other hand, was not handling it well at all. She stared at him, waiting for some kind of remark, some smug jab, some ridiculous "I told you so" that would give her a reason to unleash her mounting frustration.

But there was nothing. He didn't gloat, he didn't smirk, he didn't even smile. He just stood there, his expression neutral, waiting patiently as if she were any other customer. It made her blood boil. He was supposed to be laughing at them. He was supposed to be taking victory laps, rubbing it in, mocking them for their downfall while rubbing his hands together in glee at their misery. She'd gone to sleep at night with thoughts of revenge. Some days, it was the only thing that kept her getting up in the morning.

But no. He was just doing his job, and that infuriated her more than anything else.

Weiss gritted her teeth and slammed her stack of coupons onto the counter, "Apply these," she snapped. A part of her was tempted to make a scene, but the last thing she needed was a new meme calling her a Karen. Schneeren. Ugh.

Jaune hummed, casually taking the coupons and scanning them without a word. More silence. Ruby, still visibly rattled, shifted from one foot to another,"...So, uh, Jaune, you're...working here now?"

He nodded, "Yep."

"That's...uh..." she hesitated, clearly not sure what to say, "That's cool?"

Jaune shrugged, "It's honest work."

Weiss twitched. Honest work? As if what she was doing wasn't?! Was he implying that chasing lost pets through alleyways and scraping by on fetch quests wasn't just as legitimate as standing behind a cash register scanning groceries for a living?! It was honest work! And so was decimating armies before he'd gone and ruined it all! She wanted to scream, wanted to shake his shoulders and demand to know why he hated them so much, but her (weakening) sense of properiety kept her in check.

Jaune continued ringing up their items, bagging them neatly and efficiently, treating them exactly like he would treat any other normal customer. It was unbearable, When the total adjusted with the coupons, he casually read off the new amount. "Alright, 102 Lien."

Weiss took far too long fishing out the Lien, her fingers shaking slightly as she dropped the cards into his outstretched hand with a little more force than necessary. Jaune counted them out then handed her the receipt before - worst of all - giving her a polite, professional smile, "Thanks for shopping with us. Have a great day."

That was it. No gloating, no smug satisfaction, no petty revenge. Just a normal customer interaction, as if they were just two completely average people living completely average lives rather than two Huntresses he'd absolutely ruined.

Weiss was seeing red.

Ruby, awkward and clearly sensing the sheer amount of bottled-up rage radiating from her, grabbed the bags and all but dragged Weiss out of the store. They didn't speak as they walked down the street, the weight of the entire situation finally sinking in.

Jaune Arc, the man they had once utterly dominated on the battlefield, the punching bag who had walked away and taken an entire workforce with him, the reason they were now scraping by on insultingly normal jobs for insultingly normal pay, was-

Fine. He was living his life and didn't care about them in the least. He was fine. It infuriated her more than if he'd just laughed in her face and mocked her. At least then, she would've known there was a purpose to it all. Instead, they might as well have been ants under his shoes. There was no retribution, no emotional catharsis. All her plans of taking revenge on Jaune Arc and making him grovel at her feel flew away like Dust in the wind.

Weiss grabbed one of Yang's drinks from the bags and drank it down in one gulp.

[line break]

Jaune: "I will inflict upon the Huntsmen the greatest insult an enemy can suffer. To be ignored."

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this weird little thing. Next one will be the last Rusted Knight Rizzless chapter.

Hidden Virgin, Crouching Spartan - Crack Oneshot

Sorry for the delay. Kingdom Come Deliverance 2 came out and I've been obsessed. Anyway, this is a oneshot proof of concept that I wrote up cause of a discord discussion. Probably won't continue it since it's was more a shitpost.

Jaune Musuo 2 coming out soon. Then chapter 3 of Maid Jaune.

[line break]

Jaune lived every day walking a razor's edge, his every interaction carefully measured, his every word calculated, his every step taken with the weight of a man who knew that one slip - one tiny, insignificant mistake - could bring everything crashing down around him. Not because he'd done something wrong. Not because he'd committed some heinous crime. No, that would've been understandable, at least. It was something way worse.

He was a virgin.

At twenty years old, Jaune was among the last of his kind, a statistical anomaly in a world that saw virginity past eighteen as something that needed to be fixed as soon as possible. The moment someone hit adulthood, they weren't just expected to find a partner - they were strongly encouraged to do so. No one would ever force you, of course, but if someone found out you were still a fresh, untouched virgin past your eighteenth birthday? That made you a prize. Something rare. And the longer you stayed that way, the more people wanted to be the one to take the title off your hands.

Jaune had managed to keep his secret buried for two years now, and every single day was a fight for survival.

If anyone found out the truth about him, they would've thought he was a freak. He didn't want to lose his virginity to some random woman (or man, Remnant never judged on that) as soon as the clock struck midnight. No, what he wanted was a pure love. To give up his first time to someone who he knew he'd spend the rest of his life with. Call him naive for it, but he still believed in the idea of a true romance. Finding a partner you knew was The One.

No one suspected him yet. His teammates and friends believed without a shred of doubt that he'd popped his cherry the moment he turned eighteen, just like everyone else at Beacon. If the truth ever came out - if Team RWBY or his team ever found out - he knew exactly what would happen. It wouldn't be immediate. They wouldn't pounce on him all at once. But they would start trying. Every subtle, casual, and sometimes aggressively unsubtle play in the book would be thrown at him. They would see it as their duty to help him "get over it."

And no matter how strong his resolve was, Jaune didn't know if he could hold out forever.

"Oh man, Jaune, you should've seen Yang's face when I told her!" Ruby's voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts, her tone as bright and chipper as ever as she sipped from her cup of milk. He liked Ruby. She was sweet. Innocent. The two of them were eating an early dinner at the cafeteria together.

Jaune blinked, pulling himself together before she could notice anything off about his expression, "Told her what now?" he asked, keeping his voice as casual as possible.

Ruby grinned and leaned forward against the table, her silver eyes sparkling with excitement, "That I finally did it."

Jaune almost choked on his drink. She didn't seem to notice, "I mean, I was wondering when it was gonna happen, but, y'know, things just lined up! So yeah, Yang's been giving me crap about it since I turned eighteen a week ago, but whatever. I wasn't gonna be the last one to do it."

Jaune kept his expression locked in a neutral, mildly interested look, despite the sheer existential horror currently taking place inside his brain, "Oh. Uh...nice?"

"Right?" Ruby beamed, taking another sip of her drink, "I kinda thought I'd be, like, nervous or something, but it wasn't a big deal at all. Just sorta happened, and now it's done! Way easier than I expected. I mean, you definitely get what I mean." She shot him a knowing look, "Yours was probably the same way, right?"

Jaune had to physically stop himself from flinching. The worst part of all of this wasn't what Ruby was saying - it was how completely casual she was about it. There wasn't a single hint of suspicion in her voice, not even a trace of doubt. She just assumed he was in the same boat. Because of course he was. Why wouldn't he be? If he hesitated even for a second, if he gave any indication that he wasn't exactly what she thought he was, he was done.

"Oh yeah! For sure," Jaune said quickly, flashing his most confident grin, "Super smooth. No nerves at all. Just, y'know...normal."

Ruby nodded,, "Knew it. You're always so chill about this stuff. Bet you've done it a ton of times."

Jaune, who had in fact done it zero times, felt the sweat building at the back of his neck, "Oh, you know. A few."

Ruby's grin widened, "Nooo way. You can't just say 'a few.' Come on, how many?"

Jaune swallowed, "Uh...kinda lost count, honestly. It all kinda blurs together when you do...the sex."

Ruby gasped, eyes wide with admiration, "Jaune! You dog!" She laughed sweetly. The contrast between her words and the way she sounded made him flinch. The first time he met Ruby, he briefly thought that maybe she was The One. They got along, they shared a lot of the same interests, and back then she seemed to think the same way he did. Caring about weapons was more important than getting her cherry popped, or so she said.

And now she was talking about her first time and musing about possibly joining an orgy down in Junior's club next week.

"W-Well, you know how it is," Jaune said quickly, trying to steer the conversation away before she could dig any deeper, "Girls just...throw themselves at you sometimes."

Ruby let out a laugh, shaking her head, "Okay, now you have to tell me a story."

Jaune felt every muscle in his body go stiff, "What?"

"A story! You gotta have some!" Ruby teased, smirking at him, "Come on, I love hearing about this kinda stuff. You can't just drop that and not have anything to back it up!"

Jaune's mind was blank. His pulse was pounding and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. This was it. This was the test. If he fumbled here - if he hesitated for even a second - she'd know. Ruby might not be suspicious now, but the moment she realized he didn't have a single believable story to tell, the questions would start. And once they started, they wouldn't stop. She'd find out he was a virgin and then suddenly she wouldn't be his best friend. He'd be a unicorn. The only guy past 19 who hadn't gotten his cherry popped.

"Oh, man, there's just...so many to pick from," Jaune said, laughing a little too hard, "Like, wow, where do I even start?"

"Start with the best one!" Ruby said eagerly, "Who was the best?"

Jaune was internally screaming. He had two options. One, he could make something up, which was dangerous because he knew nothing about how this stuff actually worked outside of some weird manga Saphron had. Or two, he could dodge the question and pray she didn't push.

"Oh, well, I don't really rank people, you know?" Jaune said, forcing a casual shrug, "It's more about the, uh...experience. The connection. Everyone's special, good or bad."

Ruby nodded, "Ooooh. So you're a romantic." Jaune hesitated just a bit too long and she grinned, "That's adorable." He fought the urge to slam his head into the table, "I mean, I get it. Some people like the whole deep, emotional thing. They want some plot with their porn. Me? I just kinda wanted to get it over with. Like, y'know, rip the bandaid off." She finished off her milk and lipped her lips, "It's no big deal. Just grab someone and you can finish in like 15 minutes. Then you still have time to do weapons maintenance."

Jaune's grip on his fork tightened.

"I bet Weiss was super fancy about hers," Ruby hummed, tapping her fingers against the table, "Like, definitely candles. And Yang? Oh man, she totally did it on a rooftop. Blake's into some really weird crap. I've seen her books." She let out a giggle, "What about your team? Betcha they're going at it like rabbits."

Jaune's eyes flickered across the cafeteria, landing on Ren who sat quietly with Nora and reading a book. It was the very picture of serenity. It was also a lie. Jaune had lost count how many times he'd been unable to sleep because the two of them had some 'quiet' fun. Jaune had no idea how either of the two defined quiet, but apparently it included moaning like animals in heat and leaving their blankets soaked, ruined messes for him to wash up whenever it was his turn to do laundry.

And Pyrrha? He didn't even want to imagine it. He liked Pyrrha. She was his partner and mentor, but he'd heard the rumors. She was a celebrity and they got up to the most...out there stuff. Rumors of orgies, sex brawls, and naked mud wrestling were only the tip of the iceberg. Apparently, she'd popped her cherry when she beat her mentor and rode him all night until he passed out. Whenever Yang or Blake asked for details, she'd just smile and say that a lady didn't kiss and tell.

"Oh, uh, yeah They're fine.."

"Cool, cool." Ruby said with a satisfied nod, "So...you think Ren and Nora are up for a threesome?"

"I...wouldn't know." Jaune laughed. It sounded like a dying animal.

[line break]

Jaune barely managed to keep himself together through Ruby's relentlessly casual discussion of her first time, and he was this close to making an excuse to escape before she could start asking even more dangerous questions. But fate, as always, had a cruel sense of humor. Because just as he was about to say something to redirect the conversation, Weiss walked up to their table, holding a tray of food with her usual perfect posture.

"Oh, there you are," she said, setting her tray down across from Ruby before sliding gracefully into the seat beside her, "I was looking for you earlier. I wanted to go over that Dust technique I mentioned last week."

Ruby perked up immediately, all but vibrating with excitement, "Oh yeah, totally! We can go over that later. But first!" she suddenly turned to Weiss, her silver eyes glinting with mischievous curiosity, "Weiss! We were just talking about first times. You gotta tell me yours!"

Jaune, who'd been mid-sip of his drink, almost spat it everywhere. Weiss blinked, looking at Ruby with mild confusion before setting her spoon down neatly beside her soup bowl, "First times?"

He needed an out. Immediately. He needed to redirect this conversation before it was too late, "Oh, you know, first time in combat," he said quickly, laughing in a way that probably sounded normal to an idiot, "First Grimm kill. That kind of thing. Real milestone stuff."

Ruby snorted, "No, dummy. Sex."

Jaune knew there was no god. If there was, he wouldn't be suffering like this. Weiss, of course, didn't look remotely surprised by the shift in topic. She picked up her spoon again, stirring her soup idly as she hummed , "Oh. Well, I suppose it's not really a secret." She took a delicate sip of her soup before continuing, her tone as calm and matter-of-fact as if she were discussing a business meeting, "It was on my eighteenth birthday as soon as midnight struck. I had it planned well in advance, of course."

Jaune's soul left his body.

Weiss kept going, completely oblivious to the way he was slowly unraveling right next to her, "I booked a private suite at one of Atlas' top resorts. Very elegant. Candlelit atmosphere, silk sheets, customized temperature settings. It was important that the ambiance was exactly right. You only have your first time once. It has to be perfect."

Jaune wanted to scream.

Ruby nodded along, fully engaged, "Ooooh, fancy. Nice. Who was the guy?"

Weiss waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, just a suitable partner. Nothing serious. I reviewed a few candidates beforehand, of course. I had to ensure he was both experienced and in proper physical condition. It would've been ridiculous to engage in my first time with someone who didn't meet the necessary standards."

Jaune made the mistake of breathing and nearly choked on his own oxygen.

Ruby nodded again, "Makes sense, makes sense. I just grabbed a guy I kinda liked and went for it, but your way's pretty cool too."

"Of course." Weiss took another sip of her soup, "I mean, I considered a few of my personal guards, but the power dynamics would've been problematic. So instead I had the son from a family with the right pedigree. It wasn't his first time, but I managed to keep up with him, "

Jaune felt his vision swim.

"Right, right," Ruby mused, tapping her chin, "So, how'd it go?"

"Oh, it was quite the experience," Weiss said, her voice rich with nostalgia, "The foreplay alone lasted nearly an hour." Jaune stopped breathing, "I had specific requests, of course," she continued, completely unaware that Jaune was seconds away from suffering heart failure, "He started with my neck, then moved to my shoulders, and by the time he got to my breasts-"

"I'M GONNA GO GET A DRINK!" Jaune blurted out, standing so fast he nearly knocked his chair over.

Weiss blinked at him, looking puzzled, "You...already have a drink."

Jaune grabbed his glass of water, "THIS ONE'S EMPTY." He chugged the whole thing in one go, slammed the glass on the table, then turned to flee.

Ruby, the absolute demon that she was, reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could escape, "Aw, c'mon, Jaune! This is educational!"

Jaune turned, his face a perfect mask of calm, "I don't need to be educated," he said, his voice one wrong word away from breaking.

"Oh, that's right. You know all this already."

Jaune nodded, "Yep. I do. Definitely. 100%."

Weiss hummed, resting her chin on her hand, "Oh? What was your first time like, then?"

Jaune's soul disintegrated. He had nothing. No stories. No backup plan. Just a deep, unending void of despair. This was why he didn't want to be here. Talks about sex always had a way of spreading. First everyone was talking about who they fucked last week and then suddenly they started asking questions.

Ruby leaned forward, grinning, "Yeah, Jaune, tell us already!"

Once again, Jaune found himself faced with two options. One: admit the truth and be instantly branded as a prize waiting to be claimed, forever hunted by Team RWBY and his own team until his cherry was well and thoroughly popped. Or two: make something up and pray they didn't poke too many holes in it.

And so, with the survival instincts of a man dangling over a pit of hungry wolves, Jaune took a deep breath and went with the most logical, well-thought-out, totally airtight lie he could come up with on the spot, "Oh, my first time? Yeah, uh, totally wild," he said, forcing out a chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, "It was- well, you know how it is. I was in Mistral, right? It was raining. Like, pouring. And, uh, I was staying at this inn, 'cause I was traveling, doing some solo training."

That part was at least half true. He'd trained in Anima for a bit before coming to Beacon. That made it more believable, right?

Ruby and Weiss both nodded along, seemingly eager to hear more. Jaune's heart pounded in his ears. He needed details. Something believable. Something convincing. And, as his panic-addled brain grasped desperately for something to latch onto, it landed on Saphron's stash of hentai manga Yuri hentai manga.

His brain screamed at him not to use them.

His mouth betrayed him, "So, uh, there I was, stuck in this tiny inn, and suddenly this beautiful woman walks in - dripping wet, totally soaked from the rain. She looked kinda mysterious, you know? Dark hair, tight dress, super curvy." They were buying it. Ruby looked curious, Weiss seemed intrigued. He kept going, "She, uh, she locked eyes with me immediately," he continued, his voice gaining a bit more confidence, "Like, I could tell there was this...instant connection. She sat down next to me at the bar, ordered a drink, and just...stared at me for a bit. Then she leaned in and whispered."

He racked his brain for the line. The one that always seemed to show up in those ridiculous stories.

"She said, 'You're different from the other men I've met.'" Well, it was 'women' in the manga. He always found that stupid. The two characters literally just saw each other. No conversation, nothing, and then suddenly one of them goes 'you're not like other girls' like they knew each other all along.

Weiss nodded approvingly, "That does sound like a classic Mistrali woman. They tend to be more direct."

Jaune couldn't believe this was working. He felt lightheaded, "Right, exactly! So we talked for a bit, had some drinks. Y'know, just casual conversation. And then, out of nowhere, she grabs my tie-" He paused, "Uh, I was wearing a tie, 'cause it was, like, a fancy inn. And she pulls me into a kiss. Right there in the middle of the bar."

Ruby grinned, "Ooooh, smooth."

Jaune swallowed hard. He was in too deep. He had to finish the story, "So, uh, one thing led to another, and we ended up in her room," he said, doing his best to sound vaguely smug, like this was just a normal conversation for him, "She, uh, she pushed me onto the bed and straddled me, and then-"

Weiss held up a hand, "Spare the more graphic details, Jaune. I think we get the picture." Jaune's eye twitched. Oh, so she could talk about one hour foreplay and getting her nipples sucked, but he had to be discreet about it? He bit down his annoyance at the double standards and nodded along.

Because they'd bought it. He was safe.

"I knew you had a good story in there!" Ruby said, looking way too impressed, "That's like, something out of a movie! Or a book!" Or a manga...

Jaune forced a laugh, "Yeah, well, you know. Just one of those things."

"Who was she?" Weiss asked, tilting her head.

Jaune froze. Think, think! "Oh, uh...she was, uh..." He couldn't say her name. The fictional woman from the manga had a ridiculous name. Something like...Yuki Obsidian Midnight Nighthsade or something like that, "She, uh, didn't give me her real name, I think," he said quickly, hoping that would be enough, "Just said to call her Ivy."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. I hardly recall my first partner either. What matters is the experience, not who you share it with." Jaune bit his tongue to keep from saying anything back.

Ruby hummed, "That's so cool. You lost your virginity to a sexy mysterious lady in Mistral. No wonder you're so chill about all this."

Jaune smiled. It was the smile of a man drowning in his own lies. He should've excused himself when Ruby first brought up her experience, or when Weiss showed up, or right now before the conversation could go any further. But no, he'd stayed, sitting there like an idiot, trapped in a social minefield where one wrong step would blow his entire cover wide open. Dad always did say he was the type to second guess himself. He needed to be sure that they didn't suspect.

"I have to say," Weiss said, her voice carrying that familiar Schnee superiority, "I'm really glad Beacon is full of normal people."

Jaune's fingers tightened around his glass. Ruby, happily kicking her legs under the table, tilted her head, "What do you mean?"

Weiss sneered, "Oh, just that back home, there was this one man, some absolute fool, who claimed he was saving himself for marriage." She said it like it was the most idiotic thing in the world. Jaune felt every muscle in his body lock up, "Can you imagine? Saving yourself. For marriage. Like some kind of ancient relic from the Dark Ages. What kind of insanity is that?"

Jaune, who was doing almost exactly that, sat completely still, afraid that if he so much as twitched, they'd see right through him. Ruby, by contrast, winced like Weiss had just mentioned a tragic accident, "Oh, geez. Poor guy." Jaune's blinked. Poor guy? Did Ruby sympathize with him? Did she understand?

That hope was dashed when with what she said next.

"Man, that guy's a dummy." Ruby sighed, shaking her head, "Like, I get waiting wanting someone specific to pop your cherry, but waiting for marriage? That's just..." She sighed, silver eyes filled with genuine pity, "What a weirdo."

"Oh, I know," Weiss said, rolling her eyes, "It was pitiful. I mean, what was he even thinking? Did he really believe some woman was going to wait for him? That he was going to magically find 'The One' and ride off into the sunset like some fairy tale prince?" Jaune swallowed down what was left of his food as Weiss huffed, "Don't worry, he didn't last."

Jaune blinked, "What?"

Weiss smirked, "Oh, Winter found out about it and took care of the problem."

"Wait, wait, wait," Ruby said, suddenly very interested, "Winter? Your sister?"

Weiss rolled her eyes, "Who else?"

Ruby leaned in, eyes sparkling, "Holy crap, what'd she do?"

Weiss let out a soft chuckle, tapping a manicured nail against her glass, "Oh, you know Winter. Her seduction techniques are unmatched. There's not a man alive who could resist her once she sets her sights on them."

Jaune was shitting bricks, "She got him?" Ruby gasped.

Weiss snorted, "Of course. He folded within a week." She waved a hand dismissively, "Winter thoroughly educated him. Now he's normal, like he should be." Jaune felt cold sweat running down his back, "It happened on his nineteenth birthday. The fool gave in easily enough."

Ruby laughed, "That's actually kinda funny. Imagine being all stubborn about it just to immediately break the moment a hot older woman gives you attention."

Weiss smirked, "Exactly. And now? He's thriving. Sleeping around just like everyone else. No more ridiculous, outdated ideas about 'saving himself.'" She rolled her eyes again, "I'll never understand those who think inexperience is a matter of pride."

"Yeah, totally!" Jaune laughed. It sounded like a wheeze, "Well, uh, it was nice chatting, but I have some homework to do."

"Homework or 'homework'." Ruby waggled her eyebrows.

"Actual homework. Professor Port's essay." They all shuddered in solidarity at that, and for just a second, he forgot all about his troubles, "I'll see you two around!" He hopped up, grabbed his tray, and practically ran out of there. He'd need to keep a lower profile for the next few days. Ruby would be bragging about her first time and he didn't want to get involved if the topic of sex came up again.

He wasn't going to give up. One day, he'd find True Love and make sure he had the most special first time. That was a promise.

[line break]

Pyrrha Nikos was a fraud.

It wasn't that she wanted to be one. She just didn't have a choice. .

From the moment she'd become famous - truly famous, not just a rising star in Mistral but a champion, a household name, a warrior idolized by fans across the kingdom - the world had decided what kind of person she was going to be. She was Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl, the Unchallenged Champion, the Mistrali Warrior Goddess. And, somewhere along the way, a very specific reputation had attached itself to her name.

That of a woman who took whatever she wanted.

She had seen it in the way people looked at her. The admiration in the eyes of fans, the barely concealed hunger from men and women alike, the expectation that someone like her, untouchable in combat, unparalleled in skillm would naturally be just as dominant in the bedroom.

At first, it had just been rumors.

"She has to be experienced."
"I heard took her mentor on the mats right after beating him."
"There's no way someone like Pyrrha is still a virgin."

And the moment she'd heard them, Pyrrha knew. If she denied it, no one would believe her. If she acted surprised, if she insisted that she had no such reputation, they would assume she was just being coy. That she was playing hard to get. That she was ashamed to admit the truth, rather than the actual truth.

That Pyrrha Nikos, the supposed Mistrali Warrior Goddess, had never so much as kissed anyone.

She wasn't waiting because of some strange outdated belief. She wasn't avoiding romance because she thought herself above it. She was waiting for true love. That was it. That was the entire reason. She wanted her first time to be with someone she cared about. Someone who'd see her not as a prize or a conquest, but as a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Someone who'd kiss her and hold her hand throughout the whole thing.

But if she said that - if she admitted to being a hopeless romantic, to wanting her first time to be with someone she knew she would love for the rest of her life - people wouldn't just laugh at her. They would take it as a challenge. They would try to be the one to claim the Invincible Girl's virginity.

It would've been a competition. Men, women, admirers, even casual acquaintances - every single one of them would see it as an opportunity. They would flirt, push, and insist that they were the ones worthy of taking her first time. That they deserved to be the ones to "tame" Pyrrha Nikos. She already knew that Weiss would be the first on the list. The woman had propositioned her on the first day. If she found out she was a virgin? She wouldn't have stopped till she was the one who claimed it.

So, rather than deny the rumors, she had fed them.

Oh, not directly. She had never once claimed to have bedded anyone or bragged about all the orgies she'd supposedly been in. That would have been too obvious. No, she just let people believe what they wanted. A few vague smiles. A chuckle when someone made a crude joke. When Yang had asked if the stories about her mentor were true, she had merely smirked and said, a lady never kisses and tells. It was true. Nevermind the fact that she'd never kissed.

And just like that, the legend had taken on a life of its own. Pyrrha Nikos, the undefeated warrior of Mistral, was a woman who took victory in the ring and conquest in the bedroom. She had no need for romance, because she was above it. She had no need for love, because she had her pick of lovers whenever she pleased. Some people claimed to be part of her harem for the bragging rights, and she let them. It kept people from looking closer.

It was a lie, but it was a useful lie. She had to keep up appearances.

Which was why, when she had heard Jaune talking about his experiences, she had forced herself to act completely normal. It shouldn't have surprised her that he had experience. It had been obvious from the moment they'd met. He was too relaxed about these things, too comfortable with flirting, too natural in the way he spoke about women. A man like Jaune wouldn't have been able to make it to twenty without at least some experience. She was sure he had his pick back in his home town.

And yet...even though she believed it immediately and thought it made perfect sense that Jaune had already been with multiple women, she couldn't help but feel a little sad about it. She'd thought that maybe if things had been different, if she had been different, maybe she could've been his first.

But that was selfish. Jaune was her partner. Her friend. She had no right to think of him that way, like taking his virginity was somehow her right.

But still...

Pyrrha let out a quiet sigh, leaning back against the headboard of her bed. The dorm room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Nora and Ren were off doing something that would leave Nora wobbling and shaky and Jaune was still out. As always, she was left alone with nothing but her thoughts. Fantasies of her meeting Jaune a couple of years earlier and the two of them losing their first times to one another under the stars. It would've been soft. Gentle. No societal pressures or thinking that they had to do it just because Remnant thought virginity was a sin.

"Someday..."

She didn't know when and she didn't know how. But someday, she would find true love. And when she did, she would finally get to experience what everyone already thought she had.

And Jaune...

She smiled to herself. Well. She wished it would be him. She just hoped he wouldn't see her differently once he found out the truth about her. She wouldn't be able to bear it.

[line break]

Poor Pyrrha and Jaune. Hopefully these two make it.