That story vote is still open. Criminal or Conduit M! reader x RWBY. Come on people. 

     The class of Glynda Goodwitch was, quite frankly, the exact opposite of what you had imagined. In all honesty, the expectation was that of a harsh class with 300 page writing assignments, strict rules, and a wrist breaking riding crop strike anytime someone misbehaved. This just so happened to be as far away from that case as possible. Glynda was, in fact, running a sparring class, where students would be pitched against one another, either one on one, or entire teams. At first glance, this would seem like a class more effective for law enforcement, considering you can't put a beowolf or an Ursa in a headlock. Or can you? With the idea of team building and planning, however, the class seemed to be just fine. 

     What disturbed you was how it was being run. When a match ended, she would congratulate the victors (if she liked them), and scold the losers for not performing well enough. To your knowledge, this was quite possibly one of the dumbest. Possible. Ways. To teach a combat class. At least in most cases in martial arts classes, the instructor would give guidance to the ones who were losing. Though in some cases it was everyone. But what Goodwitch was doing was an excuse for proper teaching. She'd call up the students, have them get ready, and then would immediately make them fight. Then she'd just sit there throughout it, not saying a word. And finally, when it ended, she offered no assistance or guidance of any kind what so ever. Other than guiding the self esteem of the losers straight into the ground. You had no idea how she expected any of them to improve if the only advice they ever received was a cold glare and verbal punishment.  As far as anyone else was concerned, however, well, no one else was concerned. 

     The current episode of "The Scolding" featured Jaune against Cardin Winchester. You had learned throughout your time here that he was that student. You know, the one that unintentionally ordered the bullet. Another disturbing fact about the faculty here at the shining Beacon. None of them stepped in to stop it. One teacher had an ego bigger than his beer belly, and the other had no idea how to give constructive criticism, and no one in this damned school seemed to be doing anything about the CRDL situation. For a school with so many rumors and so much propaganda, you'd think it would have better student life conditions, you thought.

     Down in the arena, the two opponents stood facing each other, but anyone could see the obvious differences in, well, everything. Cardin stood up straight, his mace over his shoulder, and an arrogant grin on his face. Though at this point he had every rite to be arrogant. Weather or not your thoughts meant offence was still up in the air, but anyone could see Jaune was one of, if not the weakest student. Cardin knew this, and took complete advantage of it. The wannabe knight was bent forward, hands on his knees, and panting, barely able to stand. After a brief chuckle from Cardin, Jaune stood and rushed his opponent. It was a sloppy and desperate attempt, and the results were about as fruitless as thought behind the swing. Jaune rushed Cardin and swung downwards vertically, only for Cardin to almost effortlessly dodge. By the time he realized his mistake, Winchester had taken a swing at him, knocking his shield away and sending him flying. When the boy stood, he rushed Cardin again, but was blocked horizontally by the long handle of the mace. Jaune was soon pushed back to where his knees were bent and Cardin stood over him, slowly overpowering the weaker. "This is the part where you lose." Cardin said, bringing his leg back. 

"Over my dead-" Jaune never got to finish the comeback, as Cardin had shoved his knee into his stomach, causing him to double over and drop his sword. Now just sitting on the ground, accepting his fate, Cardin brought the mace over his head and started to swing it downward, only to be stopped by the bell and the arena light turning off. "Cardin, that's enough." Glynda walked between them, waiting for the clapping of the audience to die down. In your opinion, it was much more than enough. Glynda sounded like a disappointed mother, telling her child for the umpteenth time not to do something. If Glynda was good for one thing, it was ruining the moment. Though in this case it was probably for the best. The look in Cardin's eyes said it all. It was similar to the look many IMC officers and pilots had when they dropped defenseless innocent bodies. But that look, as you saw it, brought back another memory. One much darker. 

     Sitting there, on your knees, your hands cupped your face as tears leaked through the cracks. You were on the ground floor of your house on Typhon. In front of you sat the slowly dying body of your mother. You were all of seven at the time. As you can imagine, this came as a shock to you. 

     Her head was turned in your direction, tears leaking from her eyes. Blood leaked from her mouth, adding to the pool of it beneath her torso. Her mouth was moving, but you couldn't hear anything. The only noise was the load ringing in your ears. You tried to read her lips, but the best you got was "run." You wanted to, but your legs couldn't move. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her lower jaw, forcefully turning her head towards the one standing over her. Her expression went from a pleading stare, to a spiteful glare. Her eyes then closed, like she was resisting pain. Looking over, a foot was stepping down on a slowly growing blob of read on the right part of her stomach. You knew the man standing over her, who was clearly her killer. 

     The man gripped a handgun, the end of the barrel stained red. He applied pressure to the wound on your mother's stomach with his foot. You knew his face. It was familiar, yet at that time it could not be registered. All you remembered was the twisted smile and sadist look in his eyes. The look that said he was enjoying this. All the pain he caused, and he was thriving on it. 

     Your thoughts were broken as the professor spoke again. "Students, as you can see, Mr. Arc's aura has now dropped into the red. In a tournament style dual, this would indicate the Jaune is no longer fit for battle, and the official may call the match. Mr. Arc it's been weeks now. Please try to refer to your scroll during combat. Gauging your aura will help you decide when it is appropriate to attack, or when it is better to move to a more... defensive strategy. We wouldn't want you to be gobbled up by a beowolf now would we?"

"Speak for yourself." Cardin interjected before walking away. 

"Remember everyone, the Vytal festival is only a few months away. It won't be long before students from the other kingdoms start arriving in Vale, so keep practicing. Those who choose to compete in the combat tournament will be representing all of Vale." The excitement in the room grew considerably after she said that. Students started pumping their fists into the air or looking eagerly to their friends. All except one. Pyrrha was the only one in the room not excited. In fact, she was rather upset. Most likely at her leader's mediocre display during the dual. He himself looked equally as upset. I'll have to look up what this Vytal festival is, you thought, walking out of the room with everyone else. 

     On your way to the lunch room, Blake (who had not been with the rest of team RWBY in the previous class) walked up next to you. It was a short silence before she finally decided to speak. "So, what are you up to?" She asked, looking over at you.

"What do want, Blake?" You kept walking, not even turning to her. She sighed before continuing.

"I saw what you did for Ruby after Port's class." She stated. 

"And?" 

"Why did you do it? Defend her, I mean. I didn't know you two were friends." As she said this, you stopped.

"Let me set things straight. I don't like her, or any of you for that matter. None of you have even started to impress me in the grand scheme of things. This school seems to be the Harvard of Remnant yet the children act like toddlers. The teachers seem to be equally uninvolved in student lives as well. So by no means are we friends, Blake." As you finished, you turned away from her and continued walking. Several questions were in her head, one them being what Harvard was. The Earth-based, American college, though far, far away from anyone not on Earth, had expanded greatly. It was still one of the best universities in human existence. 

     Now in the glorious mess hall with the oddly not-so-bland colored tables and interesting wall designs (usually this wouldn't be worth pointing out but the mess halls on Militia capital ships were all metallic grey, something you were used to at this point). You sat down with your food, slipping your helmet off slightly at the mouth to allow yourself to eat without revealing too much. Unfortunately for you, teams 'Knights of the Scraggly Blond Order' and 'Little Rogue Riding Hood and Friends' were at the table next to you. The ginger by the name of Nora saw it fit to tell a thrilling story about... something. "So. There we were in the middle of the night." She started.

"It was day." Ren corrected.

"We were surrounded by Ursai."

"They were beowolves."

"Dozens of them!" She stood up.

"To of 'em."

"But they were no match. And in the end, Ren and I took them down, and made a boatload of lien selling Ursa skin rugs!" Ren made an audible sigh.

"She's been having this recurring dream for nearly a month now." He finished as Nora sat down, looking content with her story. The silence didn't last long, as it seemed you weren't the only one who noticed Jaune looked like a 13 year old who's waiting for an answer he'll never get. 

"Jaune, are you ok?" Pyrrha asked, the concern in her voice evident. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Uh-why?" He stopped playing with his food and looked down at the table. 

"It's just that you seam a little... not okay." Ruby said, nervously playing with her hands. 

"Uh-guys I'm fine. Seriously. Look." He flashed a fake smile and made a thumbs up with his right hand. Jaune's gaze, as well as yours, shifted to team CRDL, who were currently picking on some faunus girl. It pissed you off, but you tried to calm down, seeing as they weren't doing anything physical yet. If she wants, she can walk away herself. 

"Jaune, Cardin's been picking on you since the first week of school." Pyrrha reasoned. 

"Who? Cardin Winchester? Nah, he just likes to mess around, y'know? Practical jokes. 

"He's a bully." Ruby frowned, obviously not convinced. 

"Oh please. Name one time he's 'bullied' me." As Jaune said this, several times popped into your mind. He knocked books out of his hand in the hallway before sticking his arms out, as if daring anyone to challenge him. Another time, he activated Jaune's shield, making him stuck in a doorway. Finally, Glynda's intro to the rocket locker. "Each of you will be assigned one rocket propelled locker to store your weapons and extra armor. Additionally, your locker can be sent to a custom location based on a six digit code." Jaune and Cardin, standing right next to the only opened locker, gave Cardin the chance to push Jaune inside. The boy's pleas were soon silenced as Cardin typed in six numbers at random and fired the locker away. "I didn't land far from the school." He said with another fake smile. You landed all the way in downtown Vale, dumbass, you thought. 

"Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask." You found yourself with a slight smile at the crimson gladiator's statement. Here willingness to help matched by her skill. Something you wished the same of for a certain white clad heiress that was also sitting at that table.       

"Oh! We'll break his legs!" You felt yourself go pale as Nora said this, remembering being trapped in the ice on your first day at Beacon and hearing the muffled voice of a girl talking about legs. Now you knew who it was.

"Guys, really, it's fine. Besides, it's not like he's only a jerk to me, he's a jerk to everyone." Jaune stood up with his tray. As if on queue, the pained voices of a girl could be heard. "Ow! That hurts! Please stop." Her please were only answered by laughing and a forceful yanking on her large brown bunny ears. 

"I told you it was real." Cardin said, not letting go.

"What a freak." One of his buddies said. Now, the two teams that sat there watching it didn't think anyone would stop it. They were proven wrong when they heard a glass shatter. Looking in the direction of the sound, they saw the remains of the once usable glass now resided in the palm of your now shaking fist. CRDL had pushed you over the edge. Prejudice was always around you growing up, but seeing it here of all places made your blood boil. 'That hurts.' 'Please stop.' 'What a freak.' The words echoed in your mind, bringing back all the memories of pleading citizens who where gunned down by the IMC occupation force.    

     Standing up, you removed a pulse blade from your vest pocket and threw it straight at Cardin. The blade hit his hand half way through and cut all the way to the other side before continuing to fly and embedding itself in a nearby table, earning a shocked gasp from who ever was sitting there. 

     Cardin reeled back and screamed in pain at his now profusely bleeding hand. You then started walking toward the four fuck faces this school called a team. Cardin's screaming had gathered the attention of the entire lunch room, which had since gone silent. They could all see it in the way you walked, you anger barely contained. When he saw you walking toward him, Cardin's face grew angry. "What the hell?!" He yelled. When you got close enough to him, he reeled his good fist back and put all of his force behind it. You simply lifted your hand and when it made contact, it came to a complete stop. The muscle and the adrenaline adding to the strength were both halted as if they had punched a brick wall. The bully's face became one of shock rather than anger. You took your other hand and moved it to the outside of the arm you held while using your foot to buckle his knee and bring him down to one. From there, you placed your hands just right, one on the main part of the arm and one just below the shoulder. Before he could do anything, you twisted his arm the wrong way and applied pressure until a crack was heard, signifying his arm was no longer in its socket. His wounded hand clutched his arm as he screamed again. One of his lackeys made the mistake of trying to sneak up on you. When he went to punch, you caught his arm and launched your fist into his neck at maybe half your total strength, causing him to fly over the table behind him and land on the floor as he choked and gasped for air.   

     Refocusing on the injured Cardin, who sat kneeling in front of you, you grabbed his still-located arm. Cardin then made another mistake, this one in the form of a headbutt. You dodged it before bringing your forehead down onto his, knocking him back. Taking one of is arms in your hand, you brought your free arm back and shot it into Cardin's face. He would have flown like his teammate, but you held onto his arm, pulling him back in to you as you kneed him in the chest has hard as you could, letting him go and watching as he flew back a few meters and slid at least two feet. 

     He struggled on the ground, as now the air that was once in his lungs had since left. You walked over as he tried to get up, grabbing him by the back of his head. "So tell me, Cardin, why are you here, at Beacon? To train and become a huntsman?" he didn't respond. "Interesting." You then slammed his face into the ground. "You dare come here with a huntsman career in mind and start hurting students?" *Slam* "How dare you." *Slam* "How can you ever expect to become one of you hurt the innocent you racist prick." *Slam* "You don't belong here. Go home you insufferable piece of shit." After slamming him one more time, you looked at his face, which now had a broken nose. His face was now in tears and his eyes begging for mercy. "You want me to stop?" You asked. He slowly nodded. "Then you should have stopped when she asked you." His expression changed to one of fear as you judo flipped him over your shoulder. For the final trick, standing above him, you brought your fist all the way around in a circle before kneeling and slamming into Cardin's poor, poor face, knocking him out. 

     His teammates, as well as most of the lunchroom, now looked at you with fear in their eyes. You started for the doors when they shot open, revealing one pissed Goodwitch. When she saw you walking away from the mangled Cardin, she became furious. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" She yelled, pointing her riding crop at him. "What you've neglected to do." You stated calmly before finishing. "The right thing." 

    As you stepped passed her, you were enveloped in a purple bubble. Recognizing it as one of Glynda's tricks, you sighed, deciding you weren't gonna have any of this shit right now. Activating your phase shift module, you teleported out of the bubble and ran out of the mess hall as fast as you could, not wanting to be close when it runs out.