When Titans Fall (RWBY x M! Titan Pilot Reader)

A Kick to the Winchester

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.