I couldn't really write the entrace exam thing. I was kind of focused on my bigger project for this week (I'll yap about it in the end notes), and also with my other story, this one /works/62342827 .

Reaction fic, but instead of hopping around from universe to universe like most do, this story will have more of a focus on the stories they show. And it will use actual fanfiction in the future, like this one, if it ever gets voted into it.
Enjoy, also sorry for the ad.
(Warining: This story contains vague plot points and very obvous death. It's not that bad, but it deals with suicide and shit. Not yet, it's not implied well enough yet.)


Jaune, and his mother, lived alone in an old house on the deserts of Vacuo.

Jaune Arc, six years old, crumpled up the paper into a ball and threw it aside. Not good enough. It wasn't even the right start!

Jaune, and his family, lived atop a hill in the farmlands of Mistral.

He crumpled the paper again. It wasn't right. He ruffled his dishevelled blonde hair, rolling off the carpet into the cold, wooden boards of his bedroom's floor.

Jaune, his sisters and his mom, lived alone in a large house

Again.

He couldn't do anything right! He wasn't even supposed to be here, and he didn't want to be taken away from the rest of them! Why did Mother have to take only him when they left!?

He got up, trying to rub away the tears in his eyes.

It didn't work. His tears kept falling. Once it started, it never stopped.

He didn't know why! It just did! It wasn't supposed to be happening now!

Wait, no. It wasn't supposed to be happening at all! There was no reason for this! It never happened like that.

Jaune walked out of his room, ignoring the fact that his thoughts seemed to be forgotten.

He wasn't crying anymore. It seemed like he never did. He was smiling, after all.

Not just smiling. Grinning.

Jaune Arc, seven years old, had a plan.

For some reason, Mother had Crocea Mors.

Yes, Crocea Mors. Legendary sword and shield, made from magic steel and shiny rocks. Well, they weren't shiny anymore, but it was still a legendary sword! Even if it's a bit old. But that added to the mythical coolness!

"What does mythical mean again?" Jaune muttered to himself. Maybe he could also get some better clothes. His mom took all of the good ones. And his toys. And his notebooks.

But most importantly, he didn't have his trusty wooden sword anymore. He needed a replacement! And what more fitting for hero like him than the legendary weapon.

He slowly crept the door open. From a crack on his door, he saw that Mother had fallen asleep with those bottles again.

And worse. The book. And the scroll was still on, playing religious broadcasts.

He sneaked into his mother's room.

Her big, purple chest was there, with the Arc family symbol scratched out. Thank Oum- oops, thankBrothers, she hadn't seen that on his toy chest. He used that one "Rubber Cement" thing to stick it to the wall. Kind of. It came off today and a bit got into his eyes-

Right, Mother can wake up at any moment. If he wants to train like he said he would all those times he spent taking care of little Aqua and Rouge... He missed them.

He walked his way to his mother's little table on the corner of the bed. It had a name. He didn't know it. Something bedside?

He opened a drawer from it.

That weird little baggy with the weird candy, was there, her pearl necklace, a razor blade- why did she have that? Why were his hands starting to turn blue?

Oh, here it was! Jaune pulled out a red key from the drawer. And then he hopped to the chest.

*Click*

Hehehe. Mission was a success!

Opening it with some struggle, Jaune started digging through the stuff.

Faded picture of Mother, Dad, Mom and Mama's team, glasses, a broken shovel, a ring, nothing!

Where was Crocea Mors!? It was big! It was as tall as him! And it had nothing to do whith him (Not!) being small. It shoud be here.

Hm. He was starting to feel, tired? Worried. Something like that.

Pictures, make up, blah blah blah, there was something white sticking out from the bottom.

He pulled. It was heavy. He tugged. There it was.

It weight a bunch. He had to drag it, but he tried not making noise.

The feeling of dread in him got stronger.

He opened the door of his mother's room and walked into the desert.

He kept on walking, and just some steps in, he couldn't see his house anymore.

The sand was turning black, and the moon started to shine, even though the sun was in it's place a second ago.

It might have been the lighting, but his skin was now a dark blue.

He coughed, maybe fron exhaustion, maybe because of the sand, or maybe even because he wasn't breathing.

He started gagging. He felt like he was about to puke. The black sand seemed to shift and liquify, red eyes appearing, with tiny little wings.

Jaune kneeled. It was comming.

He vomited, and out of his mouth came those same blinking red eyes with tiny little wings.

They weren't eyes. They were flies.

They were inside his corpse.

And they didn't stop coming out.

His tears changed color, from blue to red. He was crying out blood again.

He couldn't breathe.

It hurt.

More flies manifested into a scorpion-like Grimm, the stinger lunged at him.

He got kicked into the closet. He clawed on his throat until the skin peeled off.

He cried.

He would always be crying. He couldn't help himself.

It felt so tight. It felt so cold. He banged on the toy chest, but it wouldn't open.

He clutched his horns. He tore them off.

He hated being a rotten, useless Grimmspawn.

He saw the light, offered by the Brother God.

He looked down to his reflection. He didn't feel suprised to see that he was the Darkness Brother.

Accept that he died. He'd stay here, where he deserved.

Keep on living. You'll always know that you're nothing but a rotting corpse stuck inside a toy chest.

Maybe you should follow the example of Mother.

But it would always bring him back.

It wasn't luck.


Jaune bolted up from his sleeping bag, clutching his neck.

He felt a something wet land on the sleeve of his onesie.

It was his tears. He sighed.

Jaune tried to slow down his heart.

It was all a nightmare. One of the worse ones.

He felt his heartbeat, he felt his breath.

He felt alive. That was good enough.

Another day, another game.

Maybe he should call back to his sisters. They would always worry.

Oh! Oh! He could explore more of his semblance!

Today would be a wonderfull day! He felt ready for Beacon and…


That was that. If you're confused about the ending, I'm going to show it in the future more, but Jaune always tries to feel happy. He just ignores the negative aspects of his life, putting them away to not deal with them. Of course this isn't going to work perfectly, but only time will tell, and honestly, I really didn't want to make a Jaune that isn't fine but he's pretending to be, I like more the idea of a Jaune thinks his memories are perfectly normal, if a bit messed up. Every huntsman has some issues, after all! Or something like that.
I would have liked to do more of a re-reading before posting, but I want to put this out, and I have a DnD secion in around an hour, and I have to work on my character sheet and my big project.
My big project, right. It's really not that big of a deal, but it's something I'm putting a lot of effort into. So, here it is...
I'LL POST A NEW STORY! Yes, again, but this time, every chapter will have around 5k words, and instead of a loose beggining and end goal, I'll have planning of what happens in each scene. It'll be something I'll work really hard on. It comes out tomorrow, some time around 1 p.m. in USA! Time. I think. I don't live in the USA, I'm not even a native speaker.
So, that's it for today. Hope you all enjoyed. I woke up with five comments over the and ao3, my mind was absolutelly blown and I am very happy.
I'm thinking of setting up a schedule for posting. I'll see you guys later, and I really want to know what you all think about Jaune's backstory. I'm glad I could at least show some snippets of part one of his backstory. Also if anyone who read Counterpart View, my other story here, is reading this. Weiss doesn't hate Jaune, she just dislikes him a lot. He was annoying to her, but hate is really too strong of a word for it. Sorry. But you still won't get a sliver of White Knight any time soon and Weiss is about to go through hell in my next stories. It's not intentional, but she's getting thrown into the fire in any other story of mine that's not this one.