Princess Fresh Powder

RWBY and all related characters are ©Rooster Teeth. Story/"Plot" is ©Jessica X. Fun times. Artwork provided by Dejinyucu.tumblr.com (extra special thanks to Gophersaurus for commissioning that!)

WARNING: Lesbians! All of the things that go frick-frack in the night! Some fairly vanilla but (I think) sweet smut contained within. Mostly it's about friendship and romance and how they sometimes overlap, but yeah, frickity-frack, too. Marked as "underage" for Ruby (as I'm sure you could guess).

~ o ~

OOOH, that stupid, lazy, irresponsible... klutz!

You know exactly who I'm talking about already. Crater Face, queen of the dimwits. How she ever got to be captain of this team, I'll never know. Honestly, I wonder about it on a daily basis. She's completely inept, she has two left feet and her peripheral vision is like, nil, and she doesn't think before she acts!

Sure, we ended up on the same team because her Crescent Rose is a phenomenal weapon and she certainly knows her way around it. Sure, I can more honestly concede that with a lot of work – and I mean a LOT – Ruby Rose could conceivably be an asset to the Huntsmen and Huntresses one day. But it's going to take an awful lot of tempering to turn that blunt instrument into anything remotely sharp. And I'm simply not that patient.

Look at her, wandering into the showers like that and whistling to herself, like she doesn't have a care in the world. Makes me want to gag. I'm already lathering my hair more quickly, hoping I can escape before I'm forced to endure more meaningless conversation with the little dope than is strictly necessary.

"Oh wow, Weiss..."

My lips pull back from my teeth automatically. "What now, you waste of space? Do I have something in my teeth? Does my hair being wet make me look like a drowning duck?" Truth is, I've heard that last one before. Hurriedly, I rinse it clean, desperate to flee.

"No," she breathes. "You just... your body is so perfect. I'm way jealous."

My next words catch in my throat. What does she mean? I glance down at myself, but of course I see the same old body I've always had. Nothing special about it; I suppose it's graceful and trim, and I work hard to keep it that way, but otherwise it's painfully average. It's not as if I'm well-endowed like her sister, Yang.

How can they be sisters with different names, anyway? Why won't anybody explain that? And they look nothing alike. Everything about her is just bizarre. Annoyed yet more at how inscrutable her very existence is, I send a menacing glare in her direction – but she's still goggling at me.

"S-sorry!" Ruby yelps, turning away slightly. "You seem ticked. I shouldn't have said anything."

"R-right," I manage to sputter. I didn't mean to say that; I didn't know what I was going to say instead, probably something much more clever and scathing, but now it's too late.

Unintentionally, my eyes trace the contours of Ruby's body. Hers is nice enough in its own way; her figure's very slightly more curvy than my own lithe frame, but no less alluring. I see no reason for her to be jealous of me, not really. Then again, I'm not a man, so how should I know which of our bodies is more attractive?

Suddenly, I snap myself out of it and return to soaping up my own instead of examining hers. Why was I looking at her, anyway? Why was she looking at me?! It's just all too weird and I don't have time for this; I want to do some work on Myrtenaster before bedtime.

Still... it's "perfect"?

My cheeks start to warm as my hands pass along my stomach. It never seemed particularly attractive to me. I liked to imagine it was, to project an air of superiority, but privately the only thing I considered about my own body was how to better wield it as a weapon against the Grimm and the White Fang. How fair was it that the only person to ever compliment its aesthetics in such an honest way, free of any other implication or obligation, was my air-headed teammate?