A/N: Here you go! My new story, and this ship is…. well, you see it already. Jaune X Emerald. I'll put this story as Rated M, not because I intend to place Lemons in here, but because… well…. it's probably going to be a bit darker, a bit grittier, more violent, more disturbing themes, etc, than my other stories. Why? Because I can, dammit. Besides, Emerald is a really dark character to focus on. And to justify her actions to make her a reasonable match for Jaune relies on… well…. exploring extremes.

Also yes, the title is a pun on "The Princess and the Frog."

Starts at the beginning of Volume 2, when the "exchange students" fully arrive.

The Pickpocket and the Fraud

By Kirjoitabls

The neon lights were harsh along the streets, as women dressed with barely anything roamed, promising the loathsome people that haunted that road could forget their disgusting appearance, and feel good. Feel wonderful within them. For a price, as was the custom. Empty people living empty lives could be less empty for a moment, as bodies made the buyer feel whole, and the purchased be rewarded with cash. As designated by their caregiver.

There were the risks, however. Vulgar things lurked within the fluids of men and women alike. You go to a good source to make sure your one night of luxury did not end with a lifetime of rashes or even premature death. You want to be fucked one night, not be fucked over for the days to come. A poor person who loathes the fact he still breathes can afford a risk, but someone who desires to remain, can't afford to be lecherous with impunity. There must be caution, and assurance of quality. And that also came at a price of cash.

But even then there were risks. Odd risks. Unlikely risks. Risks that people don't take into account because they're so damn irregular and inconceivable, the latter being an oddly appropriate word.

"You told me you was takin' those pills!"

"I am, I promise I am…. I'm…. I'm sorry!" The woman wept to her boss, the pregnancy test in her hands.

"Fuckin' Luna, damn…." The man named Asp spat. "Look, you're a good girl. Always done me right. Paid my share. Gave me no damn trouble, but this…. I can get some weird fetishist for you but other than those weird fucks you won't get me a dime when that belly of yours starts bustin'."

"I'm sorry! I'm…. I'm so sorry…" she wept. She cried most of the nights she was lucky enough to spend alone. "I… I don't know what to do…"

"You continue fucking. That's what you do. That's what you've been doing for me for the last two years. Keep fucking, and when it's visible, I'll put you for high dollar on the fetishist market. As I said, You's done me right. I won't do you wrong now." The woman kept weeping. Those words didn't make her happy, but then again, what could he have said to make it better?

"And when you has that kid, it will go to an orphanage, you don't have to raise it, you don't have to make it your problem. And hey! If there are more weirdos who find pregnancy attractive out there, maybe we can talk about early retirement, eh?" Asp continued speaking those words she found no respite in. The tears started stopping, however. She found the restraint she usually had when she felt the need to cry.

"Look, doll. Take the night off, I don't wants you thinkin' 'bout this, it would ruin the mood to any client. Go home, mull this ova' and when you feels okay, I'll be here. No pay while on break though…. Can't provide for ya if you don't provide for me, know what I'm sayin'?"

She nodded, her face marred by the weeping.

Tukson was a tough fight. Tougher than she expected at least. Normally two-on-ones, her and Mercury, it was easy. They fought a Maiden together for Oum's sake! Agreed, without Cinder's careful plan and her own assistance they would've been toast, but their target was a mystical relic of an ancient time, this was some defective White Fang has-been.

Yet Emerald was panting, Mercury himself looked sore. However, they looked better than their target, who was sprawled on the floor, scratches and bruises covering his body. His shirt and pants were torn, and what remained was sorrowfully lacking in proper coverage. She couldn't see anything 'inappropriate,' but it left little to the imagination.

He looked pathetic. It was almost sad.

Whenever she felt guilt, however, she just had to remember where she was. Guilt was for people who couldn't take making hard decisions. Decisions for survival. If she didn't take this path, she wouldn't have survived. At least, she would only scrap by, her life a delicate weight by a thread. Now she wasn't hungry.

She will never be hungry.

Tukson pushed himself up, his arms quivering at the weight of himself. Mercury leaned down, a smile on his face.

"Would you like to keep fighting? You don't seem up for it, but I'm willing to humor-" Mercury didn't finish his taunt as blood splattered across his face, spat upon by the rebellious faunus. Mercury grimaced, wiping off the saliva enveloped stain upon his face. He looked at her, his face annoyed but not indignat, "Emerald, would you like the honors, or should I?"

Never show nerves, and never show mercy. "Thank you." Emerald smiled as she pulled up one of the Verdant Stalkers, her weapon. She put it to Tukson's face and pulled the trigger.

A blast was heard, as the auraless skull made contact with the bullet. Brains and bone spread across the carpet like an overly violent sneeze, staining the nice surface. Tukson's head, now only partly intact, rested almost peacefully on the floor, his mind at peace as it was strewn in pieces on his store floor.

Emerald was at first hesitant to kill, and while she would never claim that it brought her joy like it did to Torchwick's psychotic pet, she got used to it.

Killing was a means to an end; here she was fulfilling a bargain to their alliance with the White Fang: A bunch of bull-headed extremists with no real strategy or tangible end goal. What was it? Conquer the continent of Vytal and create their own unified kingdom? Enslave all humans? Kill all the humans? What a laugh: one couldn't fix millennia of social constructs with violent exercises aimed haphazardly at those who wronged them. You just end up with vengeance, not progress.

It's why she had no goals. No ambitions. Only the interest of survival. Cinder offered a means. She took it.

And here she was, killing a man. A faunus man, nothing to weep over.

"Well, that was a pain in the ass," Emerald mused.

"You're telling me, he almost made me sweat!" Mercury snorted as he pressed his gun-loaded boots on the man's chest.

"You are sweating, Merc." Emerald snarked, a smirk adorning her face.

"It's a figure of speech, Emerald." Mercury sighed, removing his boot and backing away from the corpse. "Does Cinder expect us to clean this shit up?"

"Torchwick has some clean-up crews for this kind of thing, at least that's what I gathered. We just need to make sure no one can see this through the windows."

"Sounds like a plan." Mercury continued smirking as he drew all the blinds, which would not be questioned due to the Closed sign. "It's a shame though…" Mercury bowed his head, shaking it lightly, "this will be the most fun we'll have for a while."

"This isn't 'fun' Mercury." Emerald didn't have to pretend she enjoyed killing people, "it's a job. Just like pretending to be normal, stupid students is part of the job."

"Yeah, but it will be a much more BORING part of the job." Mercury sighed, "I have to go easy on my sparring partners, not cause trouble, not bring attention to myself…. That's easy for you, but for me…" Mercury gestured towards himself, "that's gonna be a serious chore."

"You'll get used to it." When Emerald started, she had to be indescribable. Unassuming. Nothing of note. How Cinder found her was almost a critique on how she failed. She was thankful for Cinder, without her she'd still be a starving thief on the streets of Mistral, but it still reflected poorly on her initial skills.

With Cinder she became stronger. She still could become stronger. With Cinder it was within her power to ascend what she was and escape the foul stench that drenched her origins. Without Cinder she would've been nothing. A pickpocket with a mild success rate, nothing more.

Her powers, from combat to semblance, were honed. She had to sell her soul in a way, make herself subservient ever more to the mysterious woman who found her that day, and to take the lives of people who maybe were just like her, just trying to get by, but it was a cost she was willing to pay.

If one wasn't willing to pay, one wouldn't be able to get.

Mercury scrubbed his boots of remaining blood, sighing all the while. "Worst part of the job," he mumbled as Emerald simply crossed her arms and watched her partner. Mercury wasn't someone she understood. His childhood was hell: that much she knew, but Emerald wasn't one to pity another's childhood. No one pitied hers.

Still, Mercury just didn't seem to give a damn. About anything. About anyone, not even himself. He just went with a flow that led him anywhere. He didn't HAVE to follow Cinder, his skills were clearly already founded, having bested his own father, a known assassin. He could've done anything else, but he followed Cinder, because….

They found him shortly after his success over his father? Probably. If you don't give a shit, you take the first offer given.

Emerald took Cinder's offer because she saw nothing else ahead of her.

They left the store. They had some free time to dawdle in Vale before they had to report back to their boss. There wasn't much they wanted to do…

"So….I'm going to see if there's some chick in need of company… unless you…"

"No Mercury." Emerald simply replied, Mercury nodded expectantly.

"Well, I'll meet you at night during that meeting with Torchwick." Mercury scampered off. The man was charming enough to convince some random lady for some casual fun, even after committing murder.

You're the one who pulled the trigger. Emerald shook that thought out of her head. So what? Tukson was probably going to be shot anyway by the White Fang. The fact she did it was nothing to feel too conscious about. The flow of time, the entity of cause and effect, she simply played a part. A part that could've been anyone, and if she wasn't part of it, it may make her less guilty, but it wouldn't have changed anything.

Guilt was for the weak. Guilt was for people too afraid to pick a side.

Guilt was for people who would die, sooner or later. She didn't intend to join them. She'd rather be the perpetrator than the receiver.

The boy played in the yard. He had a stick in his hand, and he waved it around haphazardly, tearing down unseen assailants as he made childish yet visceral sound effects with his mouth. In between "strikes" and "impacts" he giggled in his play, innocent to what such heroics were like in practice.

"He's like me," Noah sighed as he watched his son play. "I can't be too surprised."

"We both had that illusion, dear." Lumen sat next to him, her hand in his hand. "We simply… can't feed it to him. Make him believe it more and more."

"Considering how things are, he will always see Hunting as a glorious and fulfilling profession. The media always portrays it as such. The movies always portray it as such." Noah voiced his annoyance, the dichotomy of what was seen and what was always rubbed him the wrong way. Ever since he realized what being a huntsman was. Not a hero, but a sacrifice.

Remnant needed them, but was his son to be one of those sacrifices? Was he to be one of those sacrifices? Was Lumen?

He and his wife had done enough. Noah watched his team-mates die on a difficult mission shortly after graduation. Lumen had her entire team alive, but inwardly shattered, fatigued after a grueling and ultimately failing duel trying to stop Ironwood's takeover of Mantle.

They had suffered. They had watched people die, and they had watched people being broken on the inside, without having to pass on.

And the point was for the human race to exist a little bit longer? They appreciated the profession, they really did, but they realized it wasn't for them.

And it shouldn't be for their children, either.

"How do we do it, then? How do we prevent them from following our mistakes without terrifying them?" Lumen sadly mused, referring to all their children, including those to come. Lumen had recently realized she was pregnant once more. Oum help it not be another daughter, Noah had enough girls!

"We simply encourage them in other directions, that's all we can do…" Noah sighed as he pulled his wife closer.

"I love you, Noah."

"I love you too."

Their child played outside as they kissed, desperate to feel each other, desperate to know the other had survived. To the boy's benefit, he had no idea what was going on. Not what conversation there was, not was soon to follow between the two. For despite their age and maturity, they still had carnal urges.

As long as it made them feel alive, it was worth it.

The back of Jaune's head slammed on the concrete. His vision blurred, but just because he couldn't see, didn't mean he couldn't feel the cold, metallic spear gracing near his throat. It was match, he lost. Though to be fair, it wasn't that surprising, nor even that disappointing.

Jaune had learned that before he could get better, he was going to lose. A lot. Probably every single time. Pyrrha was an undefeated champion, or at least undefeated in recent years. The odds of him breaking that streak? It was so laughable he thought even someone as stoic as Glynda wouldn't be able to contain the guffaws of something so insipidly naïve.

"Better, but can you tell me what you did wrong?" Pyrrha smiled as she removed her spear and offered her hand to get him up. Jaune took it with a smile of his own.

"Well, I didn't block your strike in time, I used my arm to support my shield, not my entire body, and…. I got distracted by your feint which left me open to your finishing blow."

"Good. While being aware of your mistakes is certainly a step in the right direction, it is admittedly harder fixing what you know is wrong in the heat of battle, because in the heat of battle, you don't necessarily have time to run through a checklist of things you have a proclivity of doing…" Pyrrha nodded her head, "nevertheless, you are improving faster than I was expecting, admittedly!"

"Thanks… I guess…. Great to hear you had such HIGH expectations of me…"

"No! No! I didn't mean it like that, I mean… let's be honest, you are REALLY behind in terms of combat training."

"I know I know I'm just giving you crap!" Jaune loved Pyrrha. Not like that, but… well… he was considering it. Still, Pyrrha did what his mother and father never dared to do, have faith in him and give him a chance. He understood they didn't want him to be a huntsman, but he had the right to make his own decisions dammit!

Even if one of those decisions was to clearly break the law and commit a high-level forgery to land him in one of the most prestigious academies in the land: an academy that attracted the world-renowned Pyrrha Nikos, whom he never heard of until meeting her, and somehow, fate decided that she would be his partner.

Okay, Pyrrha decided he was going to be her partner. Why she did Jaune would never fully understand. He had an idea, but he had no confirmation, and Jaune didn't feel like asking Pyrrha at this time.

If she wanted to tell him the reason, she'd tell him.

"Well, we should probably stop here, we'll pick up two days from now. You deserve a little break! You've been working really hard!" Pyrrha didn't stop smiling, she beamed like a mother watching his kid ride a bike for the first time without training wheels.

"Thanks…. But I could…" Pyrrha poked him in the shoulder, and a horrific stinging soreness enveloped his entire body. "….Ow…."

"Now imagine Nora 'booping' you in the same spot."

"Point taken."

Pyrrha laughed as they exited the roof and started walking down the hall. It was empty for the most part, everyone was either sleeping, studying, or avoiding doing both by quietly surfing the internet while their team-members were sleeping or studying.

"So…. Do you have any plans on using your time off?" Pyrrha asked Jaune, a hint of nervousness in the champion's voice.

"Well… you did just tell me that we're not training tomorrow, and I don't plan that much ahead so…" Jaune shrugged, "no."

"Well, do to us hosting the Vytal festival, a lot of Valian restaurants are having some specials and events and…. well, maybe we could, do something there?"

"You mean like a team dinner?"

"Yes! I mean… wait a minute….." Pyrrha sighed, "yes, that sounds like just what I had in mind."

Jaune had a feeling Pyrrha wasn't telling him something, but he wasn't going to force it out of her. It was his duty as a leader to be an ear to listen to, but to not pry too much. Still, he should probably remind her of this. "You know, if there's something you need to tell me, I'm here, right?"

"Yeah… sorry, I'm just….. dreading the exchange students fully arriving tomorrow. I mean…. My fame and they'll fawn, especially the ones from Haven and… you know how much I hate that."

"Well, if you need us to put on nice suits and act as your security detail, sunglasses, ear pieces and everything, I'm willing and I'm sure Nora will play along, which will drag Ren into it…." Pyrrha lightly punched Jaune's shoulder, laughing slightly. There was still pain to the impact, but Jaune was used to it. He laughed it off.

"Thanks, but no need for theatrics…." Pyrrha turned to him and smiled a wide smile, "… though I would appreciate it if the team kept it close."

"Affirmitive." Jaune robotically replied with a salute, earning him another punch in the arm. As Yang would say, Pyrrha was very 'arm-orous' this evening. Dammit Yang, he was starting to see puns everywhere.

When they reached the door to Team JNPR, Nora and Ren greeted them with smiles, excited for the days to come when other exchange students were to join them. At least Nora seemed excited, Ren looked simply content, as he usually was.

His team… what did he do in his previous life to deserve such a great team?

It was night-time, the ceiling of the warehouse being her only friend. Most students slept in a hotel, but Cinder vouched that "their" team had personal housing to use, to avoid spending the fee for unnecessary lodging. In all honesty, Cinder wanted one last night of relative privacy until they were all forced into a shared dorm. Emerald appreciated it. She had heard Mercury snore.

Even if she has to sleep in a small sub-section of an abandoned warehouse in a sleeping bag on concrete, it was preferred because of the solitude. She had slept in worse, of course. The number of bridges she had taken cover under, smelling of vomit, urine, and even blood, and the only warmth a small trash fire that only lasted until the foam cups she scrapped up faded away.

That was before her aura was unlocked. Before her semblance was discovered. While she struggled pre-Cinder times, it certainly became much easier with her power to fool people. Food was less difficult to come by. Money was even easier.

She sighed into her pillow. She was past that now. She was out of there. No matter what she's been forced to see or do it was all to get out of there. She was doing what every normal person in her situation would do. She saw an opportunity, she grasped it, she dealt with the cost.

All of her friends were now fiends: assassins, psychopaths, mobsters, and mysterious masterminds, and her she was, the thief, the trickster; once a humble pickpocket now an integral part of a well-oiled crime-maintained machine.

It was almost sad, but then again, what in life isn't?

She closed her eyes and let sleep slowly come.

Voices ethereal shift in shapeless space. They talk and converse with no point. There's a blast of dust to bullet. There's contact with bullet to skull. Tukson lies on the ground. No… it isn't Tukson. It's someone else.

There were shrieks of horror, but all she knew was silence, and the slamming of feet on concrete. The fleeing. The running and running and running. In the end that's the best course of action.

She saw blood for the first time. She's seen cuts but that wasn't not blood. THAT was blood. All encompassing, all consuming, all enlivening blood.

More shots. Less screams. She should be protecting them. But she can't.

She still had that jewel she stole from her. She was going to return it, after she showed it off to the other kids, call it hers.

The Emerald.

The ceiling was her only friend, and thankfully the only witness as Emerald's eyes flew open, as she lurched forward in a series of frantic gasps. The room was cold. And empty.

"I'm going to Beacon." He said simply. He made sure his sisters were all off doing something else, this was between him and his parents.

"Impossible," his father scoffed, "you have no training! How could you even manage that?"

"I'm taking the bullhead to Vale proper tomorrow, and I will be attending Beacon in the days to come. It's what I'm doing, and you can't stop me."

"Like Hell we can't stop you!" His mother, always the more expressive one, stood up and stomped over to him. "We told you time and time again to NOT think about becoming a Huntsman! We told you time and time again how DANGEROUS, and FRIVOLOUS, and utterly HORSESHIT that occupation is! And now you're just going to waltz into the school and demand to be taught?"

"Yes." He said. They probably knew, as it was heavily implied, that he got in there through… admittedly fraudulent means. It didn't need to be mentioned though. It was even more important that he never explained HOW he got them in the first place.

"This… this….. why are you so damn STUBBORN?"

"I am your son." That was the wrong thing to say, especially when he was making eye contact to prove a point.

The eye flared up, her left eye was consumed by a blinding golden light, and Jaune cowered before it. It wasn't unusual, but this was the worst he'd ever seen it for a while. It invoked fear, no matter how many times. The light seemed to reach into your brain, grasp it harshly in calloused claws and make you scream, make you feel dread and fear and all that. How his mother could do this… he had no idea. Maybe it was within her training. He wouldn't know: he was never trained.

He shrunk back, screaming a horrific shriek. Not girlish like it normally was, but like a nail scratching glass, it was ear splitting, and Mom wouldn't let up. He couldn't look away, he knew he couldn't.

"LUMEN!" His father roared, grasping her from behind and yanking her down, forcing the eye to stop. He was panting. His father was panting. His mother was crying.

She had no more words. She turned around, pressed her face to her husband's chest, and wept, and shook, and burbled nonsense that he couldn't decipher.

"Jaune," his father said, "…if it's too much for you. Please, come home. Please…."

He always remembered it. He always dreamed it. Not every night, thankfully, but often enough to know to suppress the fright when he woke up. Besides, the fact he was in a damn onesie made any release from a nightmare look incredibly childish.

…He should really move on from it, but it was really, REALLY comfortable.

He simply grasped the seats, and looked around. Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora all sleeping soundly. He was past that now. He overcame the first hurdles, and he had support for the remaining hurdles up until graduation. No matter what they said, he was going to be a huntsman.

He wanted to be a hero, but he knew that it wasn't all sunshine past Beacon's doors. He knew he would suffer. But he would be suffering for the benefit of society. That was all a hero was to him, someone willing to sacrifice for the better of others.

Maybe it was for his low self-worth, maybe it was for… thoughts of death being a mercy, he didn't know. He just knew he wanted to do this, whether his parents supported him in this or not.

And if that involved severing ties to his family, and committing forgery to the highest degree he could imagine outside of multi-million dollar counterfeits, then he would do it.

Without it, he'd never have met Pyrrha, Ren, Nora, or Team RWBY. Hell, even Cardin was an acquaintance, the man constantly doing favors to make up for last semester.

The room was warm, and full of things Jaune loved… though maybe the warmth was simply from the onesie. It looked so stupid but it was just SO DAMN COMFORTABLE!

A/N: This is more of an introductory chapter than anything else, as you can see it's not long at all.

I must reiterate, you can clearly see why it's Rated M, and the subject of sex will not be shied away from. But this story will NOT, and will NEVER, contain a Lemon. Not even a Lime! This is a Sprite free zone! Nothing wrong with Lemons and Limes, but I don't think I can write them that well, due to a… lack of experience. Also if I include them they'll take focus off the story. So if you're looking forward to that, don't. If you don't like that kind of thing, welcome!

Other than that, just know I welcome reviews! Positive, negative, as long as they attack my writing and not me, that's perfectly fine. I LOVE reading people's comments!

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