And here I am again with yet another story. This is a very light-hearted one. I know you won't believe me but it's true. It's mainly just humour with a hint of morality/seriousness and then romance. Have fun reading this!

Jaune Arc knew he was not doing an intelligent thing.

While becoming a Hunstman had been his dream for years, he knew that doing so by sneaking into Beacon with fake transcripts from Vale's most wanted criminal mastermind wasn't something a sane person would do. And while he did consider himself a sane person, he also knew that it was the only way for him to be accepted into Beacon. The school was a prestigious one, and that meant that it accepted only two types of applicants.

The rich and the talented.

Jaune definitely wasn't rich. After his father had died of lung cancer ten years before, his mother had sold all the Arcs' property and bought an old-fashioned caravan, with horses and all. Since all his sisters had already moved out of their house, the two of them had wandered across more or less the majority of Remnant before his mother had finally settled back down in Orlén, a small town not too far from Vale. Orlén was comfortable but far too quiet for the young man, and that was one of the reasons why he was on that Bullhead at the moment. His mother had been hired in a Schnee Dust shop in the town, and thankfully the pay was pretty high, despite what many said about the SDC. But for Jaune it wasn't enough to buy his place into Beacon.

That left the talented.

Now, Jaune wasn't one of the no-talent kind of people in the field of fighting. If anything, the opposite. Despite his lack of training and admittedly not appropriate weapon, Jaune had become strong, agile and resistant during the years of travel, but the point was that he knew physical fitness would not be enough to grant him access to Beacon. His skills weren't, at the moment, the ones that would get him into Beacon.

So he had decided to gamble and he'd won the round. For some strange miracle, Roman Torchwick accepted to give him some fake transcripts to enter Beacon. He had of course mentioned a payment, but more in terms of favours than anything. He had said that he would need him to keep an eye on someone in the future. The thief hadn't gone into details and Jaune hadn't pressed the issue, knowing better than to annoy the criminal. The man's associate, Neo, had been a completely different matter. She had worn a knowing smirk all along, as if to dare him ask her for details. He hadn't been that dumb.

There was just one problem, though. The transcripts had gotten him into Beacon, but they hadn't brought him on par with the rest of the students. He had already bought several books on every subject could help him. Another small problem was that as Roman had intelligently pointed out, signing transcripts with his true name wouldn't a very smart idea. As long as nobody found out they were fake, he risked nothing. But in case the secret was discovered, having used an alias would be the best course of action.

And that was how he ended up being Jaune Anvil.

Not that he minded the surname. His father had been a smith and until his death Jaune had always loved watching and helping him in the forge. Tools, very rarely some simple weapon for travellers who wanted a safe journey, repair pieces or even just small works of metallic art. Jaune was charmed by each and every one of them. So he actually did like having such a surname. The problem was something else.

Ms Glynda Goodwitch, the teacher he had just seen on the hologram.

Also known as… Auntie Glyn.

He was absolutely screwed.

Not like she would expel him: he had called her barely two minutes earlier and she had, even if reluctantly, promised him that she wouldn't have him expelled. Of course, in return, he had promised to cook for her for a week. Jaune's cooking was famous in his family. He had picked up many a skill during his travels, even if combat skill wasn't one of those skills.

No, the reason for him being screwed was because he would need to put up with Auntie Glyn's overly affective behaviour. Really, he was sure that she had been on the verge of cooing the student body during the holographic message. Not that he didn't love his aunt, but she could be… kind of a handful. Plus her teasing was even crueller than his sister's.

The two weren't really aunt and nephew. She was actually his mother's cousin, but they were so close that his mother had introduced her as Auntie Glynda, and the name had stuck.

He mentally sighed at the idea of having to live four years with his auntie always ready to coo at him. When he was younger, he always liked his aunt's visits. Now, he half-loved, half-dreaded them. In the last years she had begun to lessen her affective displays, but that only turned into not-so-playful teasing.

The Bullhead rocked again and he sighed. He still remembered the time when he still had his accursed motion sickness to prevent him from enjoying any kind of air travel, but after ten years of almost continuous journey his sickness had faded and disappeared entirely. One could only spend so many days vomiting before finally getting over whatever was making him vomit at the moment. One by one even his allergies had disappeared, and now he was as healthy as a rock. That was what his father used to say: since a rock never ever get sick, being as healthy as a rock had to be a good thing.

Now, as opposite to ten years before, he could let his gaze and mind wander without risking to puke on someone's shoes.

"Ugh, get away from me, Vomit Boy!"

He turned, surprised, just in time to see a tall blonde with more than noticeable assets complain about her now ruined boots. A tall boy with black hair was quickly making his way to the trashcan. 'Well,' he thought. 'Apparently someone else never travelled.'

He returned to look out of the window before he sighed again. What was he doing there? He had no training and a weapon that, despite having been repaired by both Jaune and his father, would probably break against a Grimm bone armour. And he had little to no doubts that a serious swipe from a Grimm would break through his junk armour.

When the Bullhead finally landed, he let out a deep breath to calm himself down before stepping onto Beacon's grounds.

The Academy was as wonderful as Auntie Glynda had described it. To him, it looked more like a castle than a school, but who was he to judge? Yeah, the large central tower acting as keep, then the several large buildings making up the mess hall, the forge, the dorms and all what was needed to both a castle and, apparently, Beacon Academy. Several small towers were connected by a guardwalk, a path built over archways to guard the entire grounds, something that a school surely did not need. Even the general position of the school made him suspect of it being built over an ancient castle, since it was nestled on the edge of the cliffs, surrounded by either cliffs and seas, or by Grimm-infested forests. It all screamed `CASTLE!`. With its strategic position, only an idiot would attempt to attack Beacon Academy. An idiot… or a genius.

He shook his head. Of course no one would attack Beacon. It would be tantamount suicide.

For the attacker, of course.

He looked around, but it would've been impossible to get lost. A giant path laid ahead, leading straight into a huge building whose just as huge door was open. The message couldn't be clearer. Only a complete dolt would've gotten lost.

It simply screamed `go this way`.

As he walked, he quickly surpassed the blonde from the airship and narrowly dodged a white haired girl's luggage before entering the quickly crowding-up building. All the applicants had been packed into the large hall.

He almost sighed again as he realized just how different he was from them. In terms of training, at least.

Physically, he knew he looked more of a fighter than many others in the room. He stood just over six feet tall, with a lean and toned but not overly muscled frame and the solid stance of who has lived most of his life on his feet. His aureate hair reached his shoulders, pushed back every so often by the boy to keep it away from his eyes. His skin, normally really pale due to both his family's heritage and his own hometown's location, was noticeably tanned, even if it was still an incredibly pale tan. His ocean-blue eyes were bright and sharp, even as he continued to worry about his choices, and they scanned the student body to be able to recognize and avoid the danger.

Auntie Glynda, that is.

His clothes were pretty normal, as opposite to the flashy and dramatic outfits the other students had. Most of the time, one could easily tell a Huntsman from a civilian due to their choice of clothing. He was wearing a plain black hoodie and jeans. He had initially wanted to try and win the Pumpkin Pete hoodie he had seen during an advertising spot, but his and his mother's continuous travelling made it difficult to gather enough cereal points. Especially because his mother had forbidden him to eat that stuff. He had understood why only after he had searched on Remnet the details of the many shady ingredients in the cereal. Aside from that, he wore a pair of orange sleeves to protect the skin from the metal of his armguards, leather gloves and plain sneakers. His armour was simple, just armguards, kneeguards and a cheap chestplate that barely covered his thorax, without even reaching down to his middle section. At his side hung Crocea Mors, his family's ancient heirloom. His mother had given it to him after his father died, but the boy knew the sword didn't belong to him, just like it hadn't belonged to his father. Crocea Mors was the sword of the first Arc. Not the sword of all Arcs.

But since he had nothing else, he had decided to keep the sword, hoping that maybe he wouldn't regret the choice.

Looking around, he took in the other applicants. Most of them were like black silhouettes to him, unimportant and basically unnoticed. But a few caught his attention. There was the white-haired girl whose luggage he had almost stumbled into -who ever brought that much stuff at school?-, and a tall redhead with green eyes in a corner, surrounded by what appeared to be a crowd of friends, given how they all seemed to be talking to her, and she seemed to be smiling back. Then there was the blonde from the airship, and he wasn't speaking about himself, one with what had to be shock absorbers implanted where breasts should normally be. In a corner he could see a strange black-haired girl dressed monochrome, the only applicant so far he'd seen wearing a bow. Or any kind of headdress except the redhead's and whitehead's tiaras, for all that mattered. Then there were two very interesting applicants, a short girl with seemingly a motion disorder as she couldn't seem to manage standing still for more than ten consecutive seconds, and beside her a boy with black hair and apparently an unlimited supply of patience, given how he withstood the human tornado beside him without as much as frowning. Maybe he had a facial paralysis?

On the stage, the Headmaster had just finished giving his frankly really boring speech and was stepping aside to allow a beautiful blonde woman to take his place. She had assets that would frankly make many people, boys and girls alike, drool at the mere sight of her. Her curvaceous figure was also showed off by her tight outfit, a blouse slightly open on the chest to reveal a hint of her breasts, black stockings and a pencil skirt so short it was barely longer than most people's underwear.

She was the feared Professor Glynda Goodwitch.

She was Auntie Glyn.

Jaune began to sweat and hurried to hide behind a tall boy with a massive built wearing some kind of armour. He had burnt orange hair and his mouth seemed to be forever twisted into a sneer. He also didn't seem to notice when Jaune cautiously hid behind him to escape from his terrible aunt. She would naturally make a scene and Jaune would become the laughing stock of the whole Academy since day one. She would coo at him, tell him how much he's grown since last time, recall not-so-fond memories of when he was younger, and all that aunt-y stuff she always did.

As she stepped off the stage and began leading a tour across the entire school to acclimate them to where they would live for the next four years. The ones who passed initiation, at least. Jaune was amazed by the sheer size of the academy. Auntie Glyn had told him about it, but seeing it first-hand was a completely different wonder. Although the structure didn't seem very solid for its purpose: holding maybe hundreds of devastating hormonal teenagers. Jaune had seven sister, none of them being a Huntress, and he fully well knew how much destruction they could cause. Beacon Academy was the Arc household given monstrous superpowers, and turn up to the power of three in terms of numbers. It was a miracle the Academy was still standing.

His Aunt's Semblance probably helped. A lot.

He shook his head. It wasn't the time to think about his auntie. It was the time to be go to sleep. Aunt Glynda had shown the students where they would be bunking for the night, and Jaune Soleil Arc was ready for his first night with his peers. He was sure they would get along fine.

Too bad they thought otherwise.

Stares, and the occasional laughter, followed him all the way to his bedroll. He laid down and sighed, really not understanding why they were all so obsessed with him: he was just wearing his favourite onesie!

That was not a crime!

/-/

That had to be a crime.

Jaune Arc had never thoroughly read Vale's Book of Laws but he was fairly sure that `hurling innocent students into a forest teeming with Grimm, from a three-hundreds yards high cliff, with no previous warning` had to be listed under the crimes for which one should go to jail.

Then why did Ozpin do exactly that?

He knew that Beacon had… well, arguable methods of teaching, and he had seen the other students' excitement and amusement at his own reaction. The guy beside him, a tall boy with black hair and green eyes, who introduced himself as Saber Crimson, had even given him a thumbs-up before being hurled into sure danger. Jaune didn't know much about Huntsmen but he was sure that no sane person should be happy to be pitched against the Grimm as initiation for a school. But the point was that despite Beacon's independence from Vale, even the school had to have some kinds of rules about safety!

He had almost gone to Aunt Goodwitch to ask about the rules, but he had stopped himself in time.

It had already been bad enough when he had met her in the locker rooms, where she had trapped him and dragged him off to the cliffs. He had barely been able to apologize to the two girls who had in front of his locker for having bumped into them while taking out his weapon. Then Auntie Glynda had dragged him all the way to the cliffs, where she had squealed over how much he'd grown and of course lectured him for coming to Beacon without Aura.

It hadn't been his fault! Well, the part about coming to Beacon had, but not the part about Aura! How could he have known about it if literally no one had ever unlocked it for him? He had thought the Beacon staff would've unlocked it upon entrance!

That brought him back to where he was.

Flying through the air with a pout on his face, his arms crossed on his chest.

Back on the Beacon Cliffs, Ozpin kept sipping his mug, uncaring of the boy who kept cursing him, but also fairly interested in what his faithful assistant was doing. "Glynda, we do have cameras in the forest, you know that?"

The Deputy Headmistress merely shrugged, a large pair of powerful binoculars pressed over her eyes, her glasses stored in one of her pockets. The hand that was keeping the binoculars up was outstretched and glowing purple. "I know perfectly well, sir. I just enjoy seeing their faces when we throw them with more accuracy."

"You wouldn't happen to be helping one of the students to land, would you?" asked the man, completely trusting his loyal but most of all stern and serious deputy to give him a truthful answer.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sir," she replied candidly. "Now, if you would, I have to focus for a second now."

"Of course," nodded the Headmaster, leaving her to think Oum only knew what. Even with at his more than venerable age, he still couldn't understand how the minds of women worked. Maybe that was one of the reasons he couldn't beat Salem? Nah, Salem couldn't count as a woman.

Back to Jaune, he felt himself become lighter.

No, it wasn't just that, he was literally slowing down and he saw that the murderous trees had started to close in more slowly. A purple glow surrounded him and for a second he thought to have automatically unlocked his Aura. His hopes died a horrible death when he recalled his aunt's Semblance. Since she hadn't unlocked his Aura, something to do with not having enough time nor permission, she was evidently helping him land.

'Thank Oum for overaffective aunts,' he sighed in his head as Goodwitch's Semblance delicately dropped him onto the forest's ground.

He shot her a quick message on her Scroll to thank her for the help, a message she immediately replied to with a `anytime dear.` He shivered as he thought of all the cooking he would need to do to repay her for her kindness.

The landing having been taken care of, now he needed to find a partner. In a forest filled with Grimm and applicants, it wouldn't be too hard. People like Huntsmen in training tended to go toward the sounds of battle when searching for a partner, so all he had to do was either stumble into a partner, or stumble into a Grimm and survive long enough for someone to arrive and save his ass. He just hoped he would be paired up with someone reliable, possibly strong, and most of all someone he could get along fine with.

"Ehm-Ehm." Someone clearing their throats nearby made him look up from the ground, meeting other two blue eyes. But these ones were paler than his, bordering the colour of ice.

He blinked at them. "And you would be…?"

The owner of said eyes rolled them. She was a very short girl with white hair and an ongoing white theme. Also, she was wearing a skirt, something Jaune was pretty sure wasn't ideal for fighting. A short rapier hung at her hip, the handle having some weird kind of barrel with differently coloured chambers in it. He couldn't recall her name, but she was the one who was standing before his locker when Goodwitch had dragged him to the cliffs, and also the one who had brought tons of luggage with her. "You don't know my name? Where have you lived up until now, under a rock?"

He winced at both the volume and the words. "I-I'm sorry, I-I just thought i-it would've been p-polite to ask for your name," he apologized meekly.

She glared at him for a few more seconds before sighing. "Weiss Schnee," she told him, bored. "Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company."

"Jaune Arc," he replied. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it." He immediately regretted the one-liner when Weiss rolled her eyes again, dislike clear on her face.

"Please," she snorted, already irritated. "Let's get going. I have no intention of arriving late to the relics." Without as much as another glance, she kept walking into the forest.

"Ehm…" Jaune scratched his chin. He couldn't be sure, but if he remembered correctly his aunt had told him that… "Weiss, the temple is that way, you know?"

"Of course I know," she scoffed, turning around and marching in the right direction.

Jaune winced. 'These are gonna be four long years,' he thought with a mental sigh. 'At least she looks like she knows what she's doin-' "Ouch!"

Weiss turned around, coldly regarding him with a raised eyebrow as he cradled his forearm, that was now sporting a scratch on its exposed skin. He sulked as he glared at the blackberry bush he had accidentally grazed. "Stupid thorns," he grumbled as he began to walk again, only to stop just shy of bumping into Weiss again.

Her eyebrow was still raised. "Why haven't you healed it?" she asked, irritated already.

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Why didn't you use your Aura?" she changed her question, eyes narrowing at him. "You can't have exhausted your Aura already."

"M-My Aura?" he repeated before paling. 'Oh shit I'm screwed.'

Weiss's eyes narrowed even further. "Arc, are you trying to tell me that you don't have Aura?" she asked dangerously. When he failed to reply, anger flashed on her face. "Well?!"

"I-I may have i-it still l-locked," he replied weakly, seeing Weiss's face flushing with anger before she gave an exasperated shout.

"Perfect!" she growled. "Not only you prevented me from having Pyrrha as a partner, now I'm also burdened with an idiot without Aura!"

He tried to say something, anything really, but she closed in on him with the speed of a hunting predator. Without warning she forced him to close his eyes, almost poking them out, before placing a hand on his chest and another on his shoulder. "ForitisinstrengththatweachieveindependenceThroughthiswebecomeindividualsfreefromjudgementormastersIncontrolofourselvesandunboundbydeathIreleaseyoursoulandbymyhandfreeyouofyourchains."

The chant ended almost as soon as it began, and she jumped back from him, looking at him expectantly. But except for a quick flare of her Aura, nothing happened. Sighing, she placed her hands back and repeated the chant, this time more slowly.

"For it is in strength that we achieve independence. Through this, we become individuals free from judgement or masters. In control of ourselves and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my hand, free you of your chains."

This time, Weiss's Aura rose in all its magnificence, a bluish shade of white. Jaune felt… power. It was the only way he could describe it. The tingling feeling ran through his body and he felt something respond to both Weiss's Aura and words.

Something ancient was being awakened. A power gifted to mankind from the very beginnings of the world. His soul shined and rose, the feeling swelling in his chest before it became too much. White light enveloped his frame and Weiss gritted her teeth, trying to withstand the strain.

Finally, it was over, but she didn't move. Instead, she just slumped, panting slightly. "J-Just… How much A-Aura… do you h-have?" she asked, her breath hitching.

"A-And you're asking me?" replied the boy. "The one whose Aura you had to unlock?"

The two remained still for a few more seconds before Weiss took a deep breath and straightened. "I don't know how you got into Beacon without Aura, but now I have to ask this," she said, her stern expression back in place. "Do you know how to fight?"

Jaune scratched the back of his head. "Ehm… nope?"

Weiss crumpled defeatedly.

/-/

"Cardin Winchester. Russel Thrush. Dove Bronzewing. Saber Crimson. The four of you have retrieved the Black Bishop pieces." The four boys gave noncommittal sounds of agreement. "From this day forwards, you will work together as Team CRDS, led by Cardin Winchester."

The larger boy puffed his chest out as the four of them stepped down the stage. Ozpin's eyes followed them for a while before returning to the four new students.

"Pyrrha Nikos. Blake Belladonna. Yang Xiao Long. Sky Lark. The four of you have retrieved the White Knight pieces." The Headmaster's gaze stopped on the redhead. "From this day forwards, you will work together as Team NBLS, led by Pyrrha Nikos."

Some of the light left the redhead's eyes as she nodded meekly, her new team following her offstage. Ozpin inwardly sighed, knowing what burden he had just laid on the girl's shoulders, but he forced himself to continue with the last team.

"Jaune Arc."

When his name was called, Jaune stumbled and almost fell. He would've, hadn't Weiss caught him with a disappointed sigh. His eyes darted over to Goodwitch, and then widened in fear when she gave him a smirk and a knowing nod. 'That traitor!' he thought. 'She changed my transcripts!'

"Weiss Schnee. Nora Valkyrie. Lie Ren. The four of you have retrieved the White Rook pieces." Ozpin turned for a second to follow Jaune's gaze until he met Goodwitch's eyes. Finding her to be as serious and unflappable as ever, he return to the team. "From this day forwards, you will work together as Team JWVL, led by Jaune Arc."

Jaune's eyes widened and he yelped as Weiss's grip on him tightened ten times over. "L-Led by?" he repeated, hoping to have heard Ozpin wrong.

"Congratulations, young man," was all he got for his trouble.

The rest of the ceremony had passed by quickly and the teams had managed to get to their dorms. Weiss hadn't softened her grip all along, and he was pretty sure he was going to bruise soon.

He had hoped a good night's sleep would've helped him through this nightmare, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he realized something was wrong.

"You're finally awake, Master," a mysterious deep male voice said, and he jumped out of his bed, crashing into the floor. There was no male but him and Ren in the room, and he knew how Ren sounded like. "I, Crocea Mors, am ready to serve. Should we start our glorious path to victory?"

Oooh yeah.

I finally posted this chapter. I've been working on it for three weeks now but I never got the inspirations right. But now... now it's out!

I know many of you will be disappointed I haven't shown the Goodwitch-cooing-Jaune scene but I'm planning on having more GW-overaffective behaviour later.

EDIT: just in case you've been asking yourselves where Ruby is, she'll appear around chapter 5, so don't expect her to come up sooner. I won't spoil you how she'll appear but trust in me a little. She won't be Crocea Mors's Avatar.

Until next time,

Khor Evik Vlakhavlakh