The Prince and the Dragon

Change for the Better

Yang Xiao-Long was having a spry first day. 

Her last year in Signal Academy before leaving for Beacon, one more year before she could leave this dump. Filled with wannabe huntsmen and huntswomen on hormones, this place had become nothing more than a prison once she realized none of these chumps could stand a chance to her. Simply put, she wasn't learning anymore. 

Yang smirked in smug assurance. She knew she was the best and she was going to flaunt it. Popular, drop-dead gorgeous, and powerful, surely, she was in a league of her own. Boys ogled her. Girls respected her. She stole boyfriends and sometimes girlfriends at her own pleasure. 

She lounged in her father's office as lunch ended, meaning she had combat class with Mr. Havertz. Yang hopped up from her spot on one of the student desks, dusted off her skirt, and slung her bag onto her shoulder.

"Dad, I'm off," she called to her equally blonde father, Taiyang Xiao-Long. 

"Alright, try not to get into detentions this year, please," her father replied, not looking up from his paperwork.

She rolled her eyes.

"No promises, old man," she replied half-heartedly.

Her shoes echoed in the halls as she walked to the other side of the campus. Eyes followed her as she traversed the halls, admiring her in all her brilliance. Here, she was queen, fearless and fierce. But she had one weak spot. 

That was the red blur that was approaching her. Ruby Rose, her half-sister, but Yang didn't care about that. Besides, her mother had been more of a mother to Yang than her biological one. Before the white reaper died on the line of duty. And left their family fractured and broken. 

Yang shook her head and braced for impact as the cookie princess crashed into her core section.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang," Ruby squealed in delight as Yang caught her with a grunt.

Regaining her bearings, Yang smiled and affectionately ruffled her hair. The red reaper groaned as her black locks were ruffled. 

"Hey, Rubes," Yang engulfed her younger sibling in a embrace, her ample bosom and strong arms mushing her in a fleshy ocean, "Starting your year off with a Yang?" 

Again, Ruby groaned at the pun. 

"Yang, your puns are embarrassing," she scolded her older sibling, "Stop, please."

"No can do sis," Yang replied happily, "It's my character and I can't stop."

Ruby groaned for the upteenth time. This year was gonna be tough.

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Yang reached the 3rd year wing with time to spare, to come across a crowd of her classmates clamoring at the doorframe of her classroom. But on closer inspection, she realized most of these were not even in her current classes. Curious, she pushed through the crowd.

What she saw in the rink was nothing short of jaw dropping. The top 4 students under her were locked in a 4 v 1 against a man wielding a sword and shield. A certain blonde, who wore chrome-colored armour which glinted in the skylight. 6 feet of dashing, a gorgeous mane of copper blonde hair, moving fluidly as he danced around the rink, sword twirling and cutting swaths.

But this had to be an illusion, a trick, a daydream. Because Jaune Arc was not a warrior. He was not brave, he was weak. He was not hot, he was cute in a pitiful way. And most of all, Jaune Arc was normal, not a badass.