#(and of course it can really vastly vary if there's even an apology or its just not addressed etc with nix unclear what would suck less)

[godzexperiment]

nix 100% could fill multiple notebooks with both fully formed and completly not even half formed ideas to kill his maker (especially in verses/moods where it's like 'so help me if that piece of shit goes back on it and returns i'm going to be real furious' *cough* the ones where it was an especially horrific existence up in heaven especially *cough*)

[unholyplumpprincess]

Of Flowers and Lust

Here is a kofi commission for @uhohko who I had the absolute pleasure of working with because they really said ‘hey Peach here’s all your kinks in one’ and so I kind of went absolutely bonkers with this. The idea? Sex pollen, Elliott getting a full whiff of it, Bloodhound getting WRECKED LIKE THEY DESERVE.

Summary: Bloodhound loves to collects herbs and natural flora for at home remedies and cooking. This can involve some things such as mushrooms that can calm down anxieties, to natural foliage that can help you sleep, or even to the pretty yellow flowers they bring home that are to increase sex drive and fertility. Elliott is always effected much harder, more intensely by these things for some reason. Yet, he never takes the time to consider that Bloodhound says 'don't touch this' was a demand, rather than the 'suggestion' he takes it as. Or. In which Elliott inhales sex pollen and wants to breed Bloodhound until the morning is night.

Reblogs > Likes. Age in your bio (18+ only) or be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Bloodhound has a vulva and hella body mods (you can find my hc of them listed in my masterlist), Sex pollen BUT CONSENSUAL, copious amounts of cum, loud loud breeding kink, The term ‘mama’ is used for Bloodhound which is bc nb folk Can use gendered terms u know and I’m only putting this here bC SOMEONE IS GONNA CLOWN, Lots of dirty talk like filthy filthy talk, cum swallowing.

Words: 6.1k

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It should be best stated now that: Elliott did not take to listening very well.  

No, no, not emotionally. No, Elliott was a fantastic partner. He was kind and sweet, even going so far as to try with all his might to help with Bloodhound’s insomnia. Gods bless him, trying to stay awake with them through the nights, eyes fighting to stay open whilst Bloodhound cozily read up next to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t take to listening well in their relationship, no, Elliott was just as attentive as Bloodhound was to their beloved in turn.  

No. It is simply the fact of the matter that Elliott did not take to listening to things like ‘Don’t put that in your mouth’ as a warning, but more as a suggestion.   

For most things Bloodhound foraged, it wasn’t an issue. It would have minor side effects or Elliott would simply not enjoy the taste or smell of it. They did a lot of cooking now that they could cook for two- when they weren’t cooking with  Makoa  for the whole compound that is- and Bloodhound enjoyed finding fresh ingredients. Whether that was from the various plants they grew in their room, or what they could find on planet. Including meats that they’d hunt themself and Elliott would be ‘wowed’ by all the dishes they could create.  

They took pride in being able to cook for him, and in turn they watched Elliott light up when it was his turn to make something. Their two styles of cooking varied vastly, with Elliott leaning more comforting, filling foods. Whilst Bloodhound leaned more for spices and what would be earthier and slow cooked.  

With this, also came Bloodhound foraging for ‘alien plants’ as Elliott called them.

~Rest under the cut~

Nearing the arena was natural foliage and thick woods that weren’t recommended to go in, woods in which Bloodhound often found a creature to get meat from and organic vegetation. This could also lead to them going out merely to collect flora that they would crush and turn into salves, teas, medicines, various things that they must have learned from their uncle. Who Elliott only knew from Bloodhound gently opening up one night, but not a lot about him.  

Bloodhound was more reserved, and Elliott made sure they knew how proud he was of them anytime they opened up with one more little thing.  

It was the little things.  

Recently, Elliott had been staying in their room for longer periods of time. Going from hours to days to staying an entire week. Bloodhound didn’t mind, not in the slightest. Elliott had stated it was to help their insomnia at first, only to shyly rub the back of his neck with a soft laugh and say, “And, uh, I...I like your company at night- w-well, all the time, I mean, like, of course I love your company! All the time, I just meant like, when we’re sleeping together and- and-and--”   

And they’d let him talk it out of his system, hands moving only to slow down when he peeked over to see their patient gaze. He’d taken a slow breath, his cheeks flushed and a soft laugh bubbling from him when Bloodhound had smiled kindly and stated, “I understand, beloved. You need not to worry. I enjoy your company as well. At all hours.”   

Just the tiniest joke to ease his nerves and make that blindingly beautiful, dimpled smile split across his face.  

But, now that he was here more often, it meant he was curious in the flora Bloodhound always brought back. They had a thin cord run across their window to sun dry any flora. Always tied up and strung upside down to be dried and later crushed into powders or turned into various other things. Mushrooms were dried the same way and anything else they might try- however, Elliott was a curious creature.  

Bloodhound tries to teach him, explaining the properties and uses of certain things and why they collect them. The strange vibrant, violet mushrooms were to ease anxiety if used in a small dosage. Normally used in teas or to hold under the tongue until mush to spit out.  

They had started to explain that eating one, or not dissolving into tea, could cause a feeling as if being high. But when they turn around, they’d found Elliott already chomping down on one with a face of ‘uh-oh’ when they’d turned to look at him.  

It was amusing to watch him laze about and whine that he couldn’t move. It wouldn’t harm him bodily or mentally, no, but Bloodhound did mildly delight in watching Elliott roll around on their bed and chirp about how ‘soooft and waaaarm and great smelling’ their bed was. Although, even more delight arose when they realized he was practically humping their bed.  

Yes, it appeared Elliott’s body reacted more...acutely to certain things.  

Side effects that could be rarer, such as arousal from that particular mushroom. Though even more peculiar is when he’d cum in their mouth, only to sigh and thank them in a lazy tone and say, “Yeah, you’re WAY better than a pumpkin.”  

A response that had them quirking a brow, but never receiving an answer when they’d heard him snoring. Able to see him spread out like a starfish with a half hard dick flopped on his hip.  

Attractive.  

For most things, Bloodhound has learned that in the case of them bringing home foreign flora or vegetation, that by default Elliott will not listen. Thankfully they’ve never brought anything dangerous home, besides some poisonous bark that they kept AWAY from Elliott in another area in which he would not curiously bring it to his nose.  

Today, however, they’ve brought home beautiful yellow flowers. They’re small, almost budding open like a tube with its petals with cobalt pollen stems inside. They bloom in a group, almost looking like lavender on their trimmed stems to be able to fit into a tightly sealed bag.  

Bloodhound enters their room in full gear, shutting and locking the door behind them and finding their home cleaned up. With only just a jacket over the pile of cushions and furs that acted almost as a couch in the center of the main room.  

Different bones rest along the walls of their home, either from their own hunts or Artur or Munnin bringing them in. Picture frames that Elliott had brought them with pictures of them in more intimate scenarios like their first date, or a picture that just consisted of Elliott taking a selfie that he had given as a joke gift for their birthday that they wound up cherishing. To different potted plants that lined the open wall towards their small kitchen area.  

Elliott comes around the corner looking freshly showered. He’s got on a black t-shirt that’s a little tight on him and showing his midriff, most certainly belonging to Bloodhound, and some gray sweatpants. It’s casual wear, showing he’s already made up his mind on staying for a few days.  

A decision that Bloodhound gladly accepts.  

His curls are still a bit damp, it looks like, and as they start to remove their gear, starting with their respirator, they inhale and can smell the products he uses in his hair and the soaps he must have borrowed. Their full lips quirk up briefly, the idea that he smelled like them always irking a flicker of possessiveness in their stomach.  

Theirs.  

“Ah, hey, Houndie! Was wondering when you’d be back!” Elliott greets, coming closer as they start to remove their helmet, shaking their frizzy red curls free and pulling their goggles up and onto the top of their head.  

They greet him properly once he reaches them, gently cupping his cheeks and pulling him close to rest their foreheads together.   

It’s quiet and intimate, letting their breath mingle and noses gently nuzzling. Elliott would have never guessed for them to be so affection and intimate, not back before they were dating- or even friends for that matter! It had taken all of Bloodhound’s courage to even hook their pinkies their first date.  

Even now he smiles through it, keeping his eyes closed for the twenty seconds Bloodhound holds him before gently letting him go. “I apologize. It took longer to find than I thought it would.” Speaking as they move to remove their upper armor. Too heavy and hot to be worn indoors. They’re left in their long sleeved, tight black shirt, gloves, combat boots, and tactical pants.   

A look in which they know Elliott is graciously looking at their ass once they turn their back to him.  

Bloodhound moves around him towards their counter area they’d built. Set up with cutting boards to the side, herb separators, and various knives to help them with the set up. They set the clear bag full of flowers atop, feeling as Elliott curiously stalks behind them.  

With their hands still gloved, they pull out the flowers and set them on top of the smooth counter. Peeking around for their ribbon to tie them up and huffing when they find it not in sight. They can already feel Elliott hovering behind them, making that curious little noise he does in a quiet question of what they had.  

“They are called The Child Bestowers,” Bloodhound begins, watching from the corner of their good eye as Elliott shuffles to their side to peek around them. “They are for aiding in arousal, for those who need help, as well as providing a pleasant sensation if turned into lubrication. They are also said to help with fertility, if you are to drink them in teas or bathe with them. Or to increase sperm count, if the person having them has external genitalia.” They explain, gently aligning them into a bouquet to rest on top of each other.  

“Soooo...it’s a sex plant?” Elliott frankly says. A statement to which Bloodhound lets out a rushed breath of amusement from their nose.  

“I suppose, if you wish to be blunt, yes. Wait here, and do not touch them. Elliott, am I understood?”  

“Aw, c’mon, babe! What’s the harm? I just get horny? Don’t need plants to do that.” Elliott coos at them, making an obvious look back at their ass. But when they shoot him a look, he sighs, holding a hand over his heart and a hand flat palmed towards them with his eyes closed. “I, Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt, will not touch the horny flowers. Scout’s honor.”  

There’s a strain to that word.  

Elliott was always good with his words; Silver tongued and quick witted, a trickster truly walking among the mortal plane. It is what attracted Bloodhound to him in the first place, besides his kindness. They narrow their eyes at his face, watching him peek open one eye and giving his very best puppy dog eyes when they look at him until it’s Bloodhound’s turn to relent with a sigh.  

He’s going to do something. They know he will. Always so curious about the effects. There should be nothing odd if he were to touch them, just that the pollen was potent as is and Elliott always had...new reactions to things. As if his immune system were built differently. He would most certainly become aroused, but they worried about what the full effect would be...  

They leave the room to find ribbon so they may string up the bouquets to dry. Finding the ribbon resting in the window sill where they must have left it absentmindedly. And in just maybe the minute they are gone, they return to Elliott who is standing perfectly innocent with his hands folded behind his back.  

Suspicious at his innocent looking face, his doe-like eyes fluttering at them, they narrow their own. Carefully coming around the counter and setting the ribbon next to the flowers. It’s with great attention to detail do they see the speck of yellow on his nose, “Elliott did you tou--”  

“I did not TOUCH the flowers, swear!”  

“Did you smell them?”  

That’s when Elliott’s lips purse, eyes flickering to the side away from their face as if a child who had been caught. He eventually gives in, sighing, “Yeah, but they smelled really good? And I don’t think anything is  gonna  happen! Look, no boner!” As if to make a point, he leans back and away from the counter, gesturing blatantly to his crotch. Their eyes briefly flicker down, quirking a brow to see the tent resting there and their own cheeks warming.  

“Elliott...”  

“What?” He blinks, looking down and then his own face flushes. It’s as if Bloodhound and himself had never had intercourse because both his hands fly to hide said tent, his face burning red. “Shit! I-I-I didn’t even feel it??? It just- it just feels warm? Like usual? Aw shit maybe it did do something? I’m not  gonna  die, right? Death by horny doesn’t really sound like an extrav - an extgan-  ext — a cool way to go .”  

Bloodhound sighs with an amused tone at his franticness, amused at how his hands had gone from hiding to instead gesturing like he normally does. Yes, it was supposed to aid in arousal, but it wasn’t supposed to have such a quick effect. Then again, Elliott’s body always seemed to experience the more intense side of things when it came to new flora and foliage.  

“No, there is nothing deadly within their pollens. However, you may be more difficult to satis--” They cut themself off then when Elliott lets out this pained whine, seeming to scoot closer to them until they’re backed up against the counter throughout their singular sentence.  

Their breath hitches, hands coming to rest on his waist in almost a comforting manner when he ducks his head down. At first, they think he’s going for a kiss, until he’s nosing at their neck, nudging their head to the side and pressing open mouthed, hot kisses up to their pierced ear.  

Bloodhound’s breath catches, squeezing his waist gently and running their hands up along his body until they can get to his curls. “Y-you may be more difficult to satisfy, when you are- ah- affected by the- the pollen-” They manage to breathe out, twisting their fingers at the root to hold him, a soft gasp leaving them when his teeth nip at their jawline.  

But, even through the haze Elliott must be feeling, he still manages to huff out in a strained tone, ”Do...Do you want to...? I can go to the shower and deal- ah- deal with this?”  

“I wish to aid in however you need.” Bloodhound responds honestly, pulling his hair gently when his teeth sink into their neck and they feel him sucking. Sensitive there, they let out a soft growl that only makes Elliott groan. His hands going from gripping the counter to hoisting them up by their thighs onto it, pushing the flowers to the side to get them out of the way.  

They know a hickey will rest over their flesh over the splash of lighter skin tone they had resting on their neck- one of Elliott’s favorite places to bruise them. Bloodhound’s breath hitches when his hands slide over their pants-clad thighs, up to their waist as he starts to leave another bruise just under their ear.  

Bloodhound snarls softly, running their nails over his scalp and one hand dragging down Elliott’s nape like he likes. He lets out the prettiest sound against their neck, his hips absentmindedly humping against them without thinking. They abuse this by dragging their nails down his back, grabbing his muscular ass and pressing him forward with each thrust so he’d properly dry hump them.  

It sparks the reaction they crave, where Elliott lets out this beautiful, shaky, sharp whimper. His mouth trails back up, pressing kisses up their jawline until he can press their foreheads together.  

Bloodhound takes the time to let their eyes remain half lidded to watch him. Elliott looked gorgeous, his hair a mess, brows furrowed and his eyes shut in concentration. His full lips are parted, letting their breath mingle in small pants puffing from his mouth. Something they can’t help but lean forward to kiss him to take his breaths.  

Elliott moans into their mouth upon contact, one of his hands pressing to the counter, the other holding onto their waist to drag them closer to the edge. His hips are frantic, pounding against them as if he could fuck them through both their layers of clothing. It feels like he’s trying to, really. Bloodhound can feel every grind up against them, making their own breath strain as wetness builds up between their own legs from the consistent pressure on their clit.  

Not to mention how much they adored to see him so desperate.  

Their hands drag back up to his hair, pulling on his curls to break the kiss and watching as he follows the motion beautifully. “Fuck, Hound, baby- God, fuck- it's really- ah- it's so hot, it feels so hot, he-heavy-” He’s sobbing out so sweetly, his hips stuttering when they go for his exposed throat, dragging their double canines over the side of his neck and lightly biting down on him to leave a bruise.  

Elliott sobs out, his hips slamming up against them and his hands falling to their ass. He practically yanks them to him, near making them get knocked off the counter. But they quickly figure out why when they’re halfway through sucking a dark bruise into his neck when they feel the wetness starting to seep into the front of their own pants-  

Wait why can they feel it through their own pants?  

Elliott’s still clinging to them, his body shaking and moans leaving his throat. His hips are still gently humping against them, his arms still locked, when normally by now he’d ease up and maybe be embarrassed.  

“Elliott-” Bloodhound breathes out in his ear, causing him to turn his face into their neck. He’s whimpering something, his lips moving against their skin, but they can’t hear him quite well.  

 Not until he’s repeating the same phrase, so shaky and high pitched of; “Still  cumming , oh-oh God, baby, fuck, s-still cumming, cumming, cumming, cumming-” In this string of desperation that makes Bloodhound’s breath catch.  

It takes a total of thirty seconds until he can finally stop shaking. Elliott is falling to his knees; His entire body trembling and Bloodhound can smell how strong his scent lingers on them. It makes their mouth water, but even more so when they look down to see him sitting on his knees, thighs apart and head back. His face is flushed, lips parted and panting and his doe-like eyes half lidded looking up at them like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.  

If he wasn’t in such a desperate state, perhaps they’d toy with him like this. Make him beg for release. But as it appears right now, Elliott was cumming for a rather long time, and that alone warranted some looking into. And sadly, that did not involve seeing his resolve crumble and making him beg like a good boy.  

Bloodhound’s eyes trail down his body, noticing that the wet spot isn’t just soaking a spot on the front of his pants, but instead almost as if someone had dumped a bottle full of water on his front- and Bloodhound’s for that matter.  

Side effects-  

“Houndie-” Elliott whimpers out, stopping Bloodhound’s staring as they shuffle off the counter. He immediately seeks their comfort, wrapping his arms around their leg and pressing his cheek to their outer thigh. Their breath hitches at the sight of him so close, but they gently rest their hand atop his head, using their nails to massage gently at his scalp.  

“Shh, shh, you are alright, beloved, you are alright. Can you stand? Or crawl, perhaps?” Their last words are playful, warranting that beautiful smile to etch across Elliott’s face. More upturned on one side with his dimples creasing into his cheeks. And at first it seems he’s relaxed himself, especially when he murmurs a playful ’woof’ before his body trembles and a whimper erupts from his lips. “Perhaps I shall carry you?”  

“N-no, no, I can do it, just- God, baby, I’m...I hate to say it, but I don’t think I-I'm close to done?” Elliott manages to get out, his tone breathless, his pupils blown huge when he turns his gaze up to them. Their heart constricts at how helpless he looks, but unfortunately it only turns Bloodhound on further to see him so desperate.  

It’s a bit of a shaky walk back into Bloodhound’s bedroom. Immediately Elliott is flopped onto the bed, the furs cool against his overheated flesh. Bloodhound helps him to strip, removing their own boots and their ruined pants so they may sit in their boyshorts and sports bra with Elliott completely nude.  

Bloodhound’s breath hitches when their eyes fall to his cock, already hard again and pressed against his abdomen. The head was red, flushed and peeking from his foreskin, but what really gets their attention is his balls.  

They’re swollen, almost a handful each rather than as a whole. Gently, Bloodhound rests their cold fingertips over the flesh, their eyes flickering up to watch Elliott as he pants heavily and squirms like a dog in heat. Even going so far as to his hips humping upwards and a heavy glob of pre-cum to bead at the head of his cock.   

Oh, he was getting affected hard.  

Bloodhound had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to walk straight after this.  

Running their fingertips along his cock, Elliott lets out a sound as if they would have been grabbing him fully. Sensitive, it seemed. Bloodhound fights a smile, gently grabbing his cock beneath the head and smearing the pre-cum with their thumb with a soft coo arising from them, ”You are so wet, my love.”  

Elliott makes a strained sound in his throat, his hips thrusting up into their loose grip and sobbing out something incoherent. He’s a mess, panting and starting to look more flushed by the second. And judging by the way his abdomen is tightening, they can only guess how sensitive he was.  

Yes, this was going to be a long session. It appeared the pollen he’d inhaled worked more like a ‘sex pollen’ on him, something that should only effect beasts with outer genitalia that came across the plant. Working like an aphrodisiac, for beasts it made their stamina much longer, including their...their sperm count to be higher, resulting in swollen looking testicles and an insatiable need to breed their mates.  

Bloodhound swallows, their mouth already feeling dry at the idea of Elliott trying to breed them. It makes their thighs press closer together, a shaky breath leaving them as they try to compose themself in order to take care of him.  

They only get to pump his cock a few times before Elliott’s scrambling for them, whimpering about something frantically that sounds a lot like he’s mumbling, “Need to taste you, need you, baby, I need you-” But they can hardly make it out over the sound of their own yelp when he’s flipping them.  

He’s at least got enough coherency to pause when he hooks his fingers around their underwear, waiting until they give their consent before  he‘ s quick to tug their boyshorts off. He sits back between their spread thighs with this starving look in his eyes as they rake across their form. Flustered at the attention and control being tugged out from under them, Bloodhound’s face flushes and a soft growl of his name starts to arise as they bristle and lean up on their elbows.  

“R-right!” He manages to get out, immediately moving to lie on his abdomen, hooking his arms under their powerful thighs and nuzzling at their red curls between their thighs.  

Normally, Elliott was a starving man between their thighs, always a mess of humping the bed and moaning into them as if they tasted divine. And now is no different; His tongue desperately licking up their cunt to their fat, engorged clit, lapping at it and letting his tongue rest just underneath to feel them throb in anticipation.  

It’s with another snarl and Bloodhound’s hand pressing at the back of his head does Elliott wrap his lips around their enlarged clit, suckling how they liked and making their head toss to the side. A moan blossoms from their chest, their hips tilting upwards when his tongue frantically dips down to their hole to lick up the wetness seeping from them. But then he’s pulling back briefly, pressing his nose to their mound just above their clit and inhaling their scent, letting his nose nuzzle at their clit in a way that makes Bloodhound gasp out.  

“You smell so good, baby, can’t get enough-” Elliott is just about moaning into them, his words causing their ears to burn red and for them to bite their bottom lip at the attention. Bloodhound starts to growl out something in reply, maybe for him to focus on his meal rather than speaking, but then he’s continuing with a low voice, “Want to fill you full of pups. Would you like that, puppy? Want to be filled?”  

That...  

That is most certainly new.  

Bloodhound’s body betrays their thoughts when their clit jerks heavily and a fresh wave of slick seeps out of them. Their face burns, their body desperately aching in ways they didn’t think they’d ever experienced before. They can feel their pulse in their clit when Elliott lets out this low moan of appreciation, wrapping his lips around it and moaning into them as if even the thought of breeding them was too much to bear.  

Bloodhound cums in record time, fingers scrabbling to hold Elliott’s hair as huffing, small growls come out with every breath. Their brows are knitted, their head thrown back and full lips parted to pant heavily. They’re almost dizzy from the orgasm, managing to make enough sense to feel Elliott’s fingers pressing into them. Two fingers go in with ease, curling up expertly into their g-spot and making their head throw to the side with a cry of, “Elliott!” Leaving them in a desperate tone.  

“Fuck, yes, keep crying like that, sweetheart.” Elliott’s voice is thick with lust, something they think they’d only ever heard when he was on his knees and woofing like a dog for them.  

To see him- to feel him take control even in a state like this? Bloodhound isn’t too sure how to feel quite yet about their lack of control on him but oh, oh if he keeps  moving  his fingers like that-  

“Good pup, let me stretch out your sweet little cunt so I can breed you so full, you’re gonna feel so good on my cock-” Elliott breathes against them, his tone desperate and tinging on a whine, licking flatly over their clit and making their hips jerk. Bloodhound doesn’t think they can get any redder at this point from his filthy mouth. Even more so when they feel him nuzzle at their mound just to hear him inhale their scent as his fingers curl upwards and fuck into them.  

Their second orgasm comes quick, fit with them snarling and their eyes flashing a glowing red without their permission. Every sense is enhanced, the scent of Elliott, the scent of themself, the feeling of him touching their body, every sound made, their vision black and white and Elliott’s body highlighted in glowing red. The feeling of his fingers pounding into them is almost too much again, a whimper sharply leaving their throat just as Elliott pulls his fingers out and sits up.  

He uses their slick to lubricate his own cock, the sight sending a possessive feeling through their body resulting in a low, rolling snarl. They go to move, to maybe sit up and shove him down, to take back their control that they had lost- but that’s quickly cut off when he’s rolling them onto their abdomen. He’s yanking their hips up until they’re forced to brace their upper body by crossing their arms on a pillow and resting their head on their forearms.  

“Elliott-” They manage to choke out when he’s taking his cock and sliding the head a few times over their lower lips and over their clit. Bloodhound’s body is tensed, feeling the press into them and their mouth falls open to let out a cry when he sinks home into them in one, clean thrust.  

It’s as if Elliott’s body had only enough in of himself to remember foreplay for them before the storm hits. Because he’s grabbing onto their hips, tugging them back in a way he’s never done before, fucking into them with harsh thrusts. His balls, as engorged and heavy as they are, slap forward against them and cause consistent stimulation that has Bloodhound’s nails sinking into their own arms. They move their mouth to press against their own flesh, trying to muffle the pathetic sounds erupting from their chest.  

Normally, they had the control in the bedroom. Even in positions like this, they would talk Elliott through it, call him their dog or how pathetic he sounded. Or ride him and hold their hands over his throat, or yank his hair back and force him to cry out.   

The control they had was for their own comfort, always so nervous to give it up. On the nights Elliott could gently coax them to, it was with gentle words and nudges.  

They...they think they prefer when he just takes it like this.  

There’s no thinking as Elliott fucks into their body. He’s vocal, as always, moaning behind them and filth spilling out of, “Want me to cum inside you, baby?” Which Bloodhound keens in response to without thinking, their hips pressing back into a thrust and that seems to do it.  

Again, in record time, Elliott is cumming. His nails dragging into their thighs until he falls forward to hook his arms around them tightly. He trembles as he cums inside of them, and they quickly figure out that Elliott did in fact get the same results that a beast might. Because they’re feeling fuller...and fuller...and fuller by the second.  

So much so that when Elliott pulls his hips back in the slightest, cum comes spilling out and down their thighs messily. Bloodhound can’t help but lift their hips a bit to their best of ability, peeking down to watch it trail messily down with a low groan.  

It’s when Elliott runs his fingers through it and brings them to Bloodhound’s lips  do  they really think he’s being swayed even further by the pollen. When they don’t immediately take him up on the offering, his fingers grab their long hair into a ponytail, pulling it and effectively making their head come up with a matching snarl erupting from their lips.  

And that’s when they part their lips, allowing for him to smear his cum on their split, pierced tongue with a satisfied groan of, “Good dog.” Cooing from his lips. Fit with his fingers messily dragging down the corner of their mouth as if to smear it on their face.  

From there, it’s a blur. At some point Elliott’s managed to take off Bloodhound’s sports bra to leave them in nothing, moving them around again and again. So many different positions they wind up in- bent over the bed, on top of Elliott and riding him with his hips slamming up into them, to on their side with their leg thrown over his shoulder and their snarling and growling ending up slowly turning to weak moans and cries, their voice growing hoarse. To them riding him again, their arms pulled behind their back and angling their body just so Elliott could fuck up into them like a toy.  

They’ve both cum so many times, Bloodhound’s lost count. Only feeling fuller by the minute, the taste of his cum lingering on their tongue from  every time  he’s shoved his fingers into their mouth eagerly.   

Now Elliott has them with their back to his chest, one arm tossed around his shoulders and one of his own arms tucked around their waist to hold them. His other hand had been grabbing their jaw, forcing them to watch their own shaky body get fucked by him. “Look at you, Houndie, so good for me. My good dog. You're gonna be so cute all swollen, hm?”  

Bloodhound had sobbed out, eyes near about rolling as another weak orgasm wracked their own frame. The visuals and the scent too much, able to watch his fat cock slam into their cunt with their clit engorged and reddened jerking with each contraction. From this angle, they can see how his cock moves inside of them from the slight bump of their lower abdomen, to how messy their thighs are with cum and how strings of it are left connecting them to Elliott’s hips with each messy slap up against them.  

Elliott’s beautiful moans in their ear are low when he scoops up a glob of cum on their thigh, dragging it to Bloodhound’s mouth to smear it all over their tongue again. They obey near instantly, sticking out their tongue to let him do so before swallowing with a whimper. They must do it too soon, because Elliott’s smearing the rest over the corner of their mouth, moving to cup their cheek this time and smearing it over their cheekbone as well.  

“Nngh --” Bloodhound moans out, trying to turn their head to bury it into Elliott’s hair, but he quickly catches their jaw again, forcing them to keep watching as he fucks up into them.  

“That’s it, good dog, take it, take it-” Elliott near about growls out, moving his hand from their jaw when they finally stay put. He moves it to grab at one of their breasts, thumbing a sensitive, pierced nipple just to make their cunt clench weakly. Before he’s splaying his hand out on their abdomen and cooing through desperate little moans, “G- gonna  be the cutest mama.  Gonna  fill you fucking full, baby, make sure you’re full of pups w-with your cute little- ah- cunt--”  

Bloodhound doesn’t think that either of them have any thoughts left. He’s almost frantic to breed them, but there’s something loving about the way he speaks the word ‘mama’. It could almost make them believe the effects were starting to wear off with how tenderly spoken it is.  But,  perhaps that is merely their own secret interest in perhaps having a child with him trying to emerge.  

They must have turned their head, because Elliott’s got his hand back on their jaw to keep them watching. Bloodhound’s breathing so hard, panting and sobbing out by the time Elliott finally cums again. It must have been the twelfth time already, and they’d lost count of even their own.  

He groans so beautifully in their ear, burying his face into their shoulder and clinging to them as he cums. And dutifully, Bloodhound watches as he does, burying himself to the hilt inside of them and watching his balls tighten, how cum dribbles out of them because it’s too much.  

Bloodhound isn’t really too sure at what point they do finally pass out. But they wake up with possibly the most sleep they’d ever had in years, rested, sore, bruised, and...  

Clean?  

They’re still naked, a low groan leaving them as their eyes flutter open. They sit up to find their furs that had been on their bed are gone, possibly gone to be washed, and instead they are curled up in one of Elliott’s blankets that he leaves when their furs become too hot for him. Carefully, they roll to their side as they lie back down, finding said menace of a boyfriend passed out as well and cleaned up.  

He must have had the time to wash them both off before he’d fallen asleep. How thoughtful.  

Carefully moving once again, they scoot closer to Elliott to gently rest a hand on his head. Immediately he makes a soft, moaning sound, rolling over into them so he can wrap their arms around their waist and bury his face into their chest. Resulting in Bloodhound lying back on their back, playing with his hair in the morning light.  

Perhaps they could keep a sampling of the pollen for more...experimentation.  

If Elliott were to be interested in having another six hour long session. ��

Bloodhound’s lips flicker up into a small smile as a thought crosses their mind.  

Perhaps Elliott would be interested in actually...trying for a child at some point. He had said he always wanted to be a stay at home father...  

When they hear him snore against their chest, nosing his way back in with a comforted sigh, they can’t help how bright their heart feels at the idea.  

[fyrapartnersearch]

And your next line is...

Strike a pose!

Hello, the name is Aylo and I am a dedicated on and off role-player with a tendency of writing original stories in the hope that one day, my own vision gets pushed out into the world. But that dream is still a far away concept as most of my works are still in the making. Since I am still on summer break, I’ve got some time at my hands that I’m interested to fill it with some juicy writing. 

Roleplaying is one of my greatest hobbies on the side! I enjoy it greatly as it gives you the opportunity to build a world and gripping plot with a partner. Also, a little about me before dive into it. You must be at least 18+ of age when you want to start original roleplay with me, just to be upfront and honest with you. I am in my twenties, thus I have no quarrel, or rather much prefer, mature adult themes. I accept anyone, but they have to be willing to fill some of these categories mentioned down below. What I expect is a decent (if not, very good) grasp on grammar, the ability and will to write creatively and shoulder half of the plotting and responsibility as well as the passion for roleplaying. Of course this should be seen as a fun way of passing the time and inspiring one’s muse, but I really like to invest… I wish for my partner to take equal initiative. 



This request is a bit of an unusual one as I am targeting a fandom that you may have or have not heard about. 
Currently I am on the hunt for someone who would like to start a JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure themed RP with me! Yes, as odd as it sounds, but the series had captured my heart in the most bizarre way (I couldn’t resist, apologies) and I simply fell in love with this odd, quirky world of JoJo. I started binging the series a year ago but now, I really became invested and grew to crave for an experience in writing it with a partner!

Regarding which era of the JoJo’s we could take this, I am fairly open, though I have yet to watch Part 5. 

Since the world of JoJo is so vastly open and brimming with possibility, there’s no exact limit. Unless of course, the characters are overpowered, then we might have a problem. However I’ve rarely encountered cases, so I wouldn’t worry that much about it. I have a strong penchant for including original characters and ideas that can be added to the pre-existing plot. Also very happy to expand on the given worlds and open to AU’s. Okay so I am a really big nerd when it comes to the supernatural, mysterious, urban myth and fantasy. Love combining those given elements with organised crime, complex characters, cataclysmic events and dark schemes that all unravels as time goes on. JoJo is a perfect breeding ground for it all.





Which JoJo is the best JoJo?



In my opinion, I love all of them <3

Just to be frank here! 
I am going to list all of the parts I am open and willing to do, down below:

JoJo: Phantom Blood (Part 1)


JoJo: Battle Tendency (Part 2)


JoJo: Stardust Crusaders (Part 3)


JoJo: Diamond is Unbreakable (Part 4)

Now I know there are seasons of the series that I’ve yet to read and watch, but there is so much of the world already, I am perfectly content with focusing the story on those four! 

 Writing: 3rd person perspective. My writing is wide-ranging and flexible, which means that frequently, word count will go up 1000+ per reply - though it highly depends on the given situation and partner. Quality over quantity as they say - but why not both? I love detail in description, and I am actively seeking someone of the same infamy. My partner should have a basic grasp on grammar, punctuation and somewhat of an interest in knowledgeable writing. I also double! (preferably, but we can always discuss whether it makes sense for our roleplay our not.)


What it entails:


Alright, so you are writing with some of mature age. I have 11 years of writing experience when it comes to the game. This will be a fair warning that this request is not for the faint of heart. There will be violence, swearing, gore, intimate scenes, uncomfortable subjects, drama, conflict and other dark themes included within the story. I have few limits but I will respect the boundaries of my partner, so do not shy away from telling me. Just so you know, I won’t fade to black or skip out on the nitty gritty. Go big or go home. Interests: My line of interests are very dynamic when it comes to genres. I love conceiving my own lore inside a stories, be it an original or a pre-existing story. Gothic fantasy among others are one of my favourites. I am not opposed to tapping into some science fiction, action, romance, crime, action or thriller genres, in fact I encourage it. Inspirations for me are Lovecraft, Hellsing, Blade, Underworld, etc. As for the fandom inspired RPs, I am more than willing to bend some rules and be a little indulgent. World building and sharing the burden: You should be active and help me shape the world around our characters. Even if we discuss many things during and before the roleplay, how we wish for things to play out and take its course, I am always happy to be surprised with a secret of my partner’s character I didn’t know before. You don’t need to lay out all your cards on the table… keep it a little mysterious and suspenseful. Just enough so we can work with the ideas, but not completely kill off the suspense. Characters: I write canon as well as OC characters. Faceclaims, GIFs, drawings, mood boards or just a plain physical description is absolutely sufficient. Whatever floats your boat when it comes to visualising your character and their backstory, I’m on board. Characters should be written as opulent, flawed, unique, talented, heroic, villainous, spiteful, angry, and everything in-between figures. In other words, don’t be scared of making them ‘human’, even when they are non-human. Romance: Openly play and accept characters of both genders, preferable m x f pairings, but I am open to m x m and f x f relationships as well. I have more experience with m x f relationships, so I might be more adept with this one. If the chemistry of two characters compel me, I will ship them no matter what! When it comes to sexual scenarios and intimacy (intercourse, foreplay, all that jazz). I encourage erotism, but always in a tasteful, sensual manner (that goes for romance as well). The passion must be felt through the screen, even if it’s just a mere description of someone’s deep train of thought. Content: Drama, violence, implication of sexual content, metamorphosis, symbolism, action, romance, pretty much everything is a-okay. I am unbothered by certain subjects that may or may not be uncomfortable for the general public. Roleplays are fictional stories and we best keep viewing them as such. If there are things you are uncomfortable with, name them and I shall respect those boundaries. But don’t be surprised when suddenly one of our characters bites the dust, or gets tortured. It may be difficult to write and read, but it is all part of the story and furthering the plot. My roleplays imply and involve brutality, mayhem, psychological and physical torture among other things. But I also greatly endorse beauty, serenity and placid moments, scenes or characters. I love it when it comes full circle… everyone- and everything has a beautiful and hideous side. Both should be embraced like Yin and Yang. Communication and friendship: OOC-chat friendly! I love meeting new people and making friends and as we all know, communication is key. Plus it strengthens the compatibility between us. Communication is the alpha and the omega. If there is anything that bothers you, or if you think you are left out in some way (be it a mistake on my part or if we’re both at fault here), don’t be frightened to tell me. Really, it won’t be taken personally since I know that we all slip up every now and then. We’re only human after all. It is also completely sufficient if you only type out a few messages per week. I am super chill about it. It doesn’t bother me re-writing a scene to fit the narrative more. If there are mistakes, they can be corrected - just to get that out there. We can always exchange opinions and see what would benefit the story most. I will also voice my opinion should something arise that could be bothersome. Partnership: An active roleplayer is wanted without a doubt. Can’t do the thinking for two now. Let’s row this boat together Limits: Subject matters I avoid are pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, vore, scat, furries and various other bizarre fetishes. Also no one-liners or text-talk messages. The sentences have to be cohesive, coherent and decently structured. 
 
I live in CET central Europe. My response rate varies throughout the weeks, depending on my schedule. 
If I should hit a hiatus, I will let you know as soon as possible. I understand when you are busy as well and won’t be able to respond, though I highly appreciate if my partner does disappear without notification. At least give me a heads up on what’s going on so I can adjust and put the roleplay on hold if needed! 
Mediums I roleplay on are email and google-docs. I also have Discord in case for OOC chat, but I rather much prefer email at first because Discord can be somewhat messy from time to time.

I prefer if my partner messages me first on email, giving me a brief description of themselves, their cravings as well as ideas. That way I can see if we’re compatible and if it bears any potential. 

Message me here:

EMAIL: aylosreverie@gmail.com Hope to hear from you soon! Lots of love!





Sincerely yours, Aylo

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 22)

Instead of upwards to the heavens like the rest of the R&D building, Freya and her intern’s laboratories went downwards, into the foundations, and indeed, the mountains that Mistral was built on. The view from the clear sides of the elevators was like peering into a vast, complex, and gigantic ant farm, human and Faunus all busy working on various projects, all arranged in a neat grid.

They were all sectioned off or opened up by sliding wall panels, made of modern materials and proofed against pretty much any sort of accident or disaster short of a highly coordinated, intentional attempt at destroying them, or a catastrophe that would likely take the rest of the academy with it. But, true to Mistral’s love for aesthetics and tradition, they still looked like paper fusuma, even if it tended to clash with the increasingly modern and sleek equipment they were importing from all over Remnant or constructing and developing on-site.

Weiss had been down here exactly twice before, both visits years apart, but she could never truly get rid off the feeling of awe, of dread, of nervousness washing over her as she stepped out of the elevator and to the laboratory at the very bottom of the lift.

She supposed Freya’s personal robot secretary/security turret never really helped matters.

“Good morning. Weiss. Sucy. Winter.” Al said in his mechanical and monotone voice, his dozens of optic sensors glimmering slightly. “I hope you had an—enjoyable—trip down here?”

“What, not going to point your guns at me again?” Sucy asked calmly as they made their way out of the elevator.

“Again. Sucy. That was just an—honest—mistake. I sincerely apologize.” Al said, a few of his many robotic arms unfolding, the claws pressing together and his spherical body nudging forward as if he was bowing.

“Should I ask…?” Winter said as they stopped before the blast doors at the end of the hallway.

“Two days ago, one of my potion vials happened to leak before I got here,” Sucy replied as they were scanned. “Al detected the fumes, then threatened to turn me into Mantle cheese with the help of miniguns.”

“Again. I sincerely apologize.” Al said, repeating the gesture from earlier. “It is just that Dr. Freya prefers her security—extremely—thorough and cautious.”

“More like ‘paranoid and trigger-happy,’” Sucy muttered as the doors opened with a groan, a fog of cold, misty air poured out the crack as they slid apart.

“Well forgive me for wanting to ensure the safety of the oftentimes sensitive and valuable research and equipment I have down here!” Freya snapped as she stepped out, waving the clouds out of her face. “Also, you do realize that there’s a live video and audio feed of everything that happens in this hallway, yes?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Sucy replied flatly.

There was a brief moment of silence as Freya and Sucy looked at each other, before the former turned around and beckoned for them to follow. “Come in, time’s a-wasting!”

Like her office above ground, Freya’s laboratory was stuffed floor to ceiling with all manner of projects, equipment, supplies, screens, indicators, and wall partitions keeping it organized, if claustrophobic. The various experiments she had going on varied, but they all had one thing in common:

Dust.

In power cores, flowing through tubes as powder, crystals being fused together in new configurations or broken apart, catalysts for experiments and reactions on materials, or reagents themselves, it was like the whole facility was actually a miniature refinement and processing plant than a single scientist’s personal sanctum, the bright overhead lights and the natural radiance of dust casting almost everything in vivid colours.

Weiss, Sucy, and Winter passed through a green haze, steadily spinning orange bars, and a humming crystal in a tube that seemed to be sucking the light out of the immediate surroundings, before they finally came to one of the most important sections of her lab:

The Operating Room.

It really was just a reclining chair with an Atlesian “Auto-Doc” surgery apparatus above it, but Freya, Nick, or any of the other subjects strapped to it cared much about the name. Weiss gulped as Freya manned the console and the chair started to contract and readjust for a much less massive occupant, Winter squeezed her shoulder and gave her a reassuring look, Sucy grinned as she saw the Auto-Doc booting up, a few of its many arms unfolding and getting its hydraulics flowing again.

“On the chair, please, Weiss,” Freya said. “This won’t take more than a minute, I swear,” she continued, smiling.

Weiss tried to smile back, found she couldn’t, and just sighed as she put her feet onto the metal step, and hauled herself into the seat. She laid one arm on the metal armrest, straps appeared out of hidden crevices, robotic arms pulling them over to the buckles on the other side.

Click. Whirr…

The straps tightened, one of them acting as a tourniquet, the rest holding her in place. Weiss whimpered as she watched a robot arm with a sprayer attachment, and a second with a syringe had a freshly unsealed needle affixed to it. A third arm descended from the main body and reached out to Weiss’ free hand, its claw holding a stress toy in the shape of a smiling snowman.

Squeaky-squeaky!

The snowman’s eyes bugged out of its head with each squeeze. Weiss took it from the claw, closed her eyes, and gritted her teeth.

Fsshht!

She felt hospital-grade disinfectant on her skin, ice-cold, heard the arm with the syringe move into place and wait for a few moments, before it began to move in.

Squeaaaaaakkkk-kkkyyyy…!

The snowman’s eyes slowly shrank back into its head as Weiss released her grip, a cotton swab was placed over the tiny exit wound.

“And now, we play the waiting game...” Freya said as the syringe had its needle removed, the blood sample was handed off into a machine.

Sucy and Freya stood before a nearby screen, their scrolls in their hands as results came in; the two sisters sat on a nearby bench, Weiss resting her head on Winter’s shoulder and getting her hair stroked as they waited.

“Well, that’s really interesting...” Sucy muttered.

“What is?” Weiss asked as she sat up.

“Seems like our semblances work even better than I thought they would,” Sucy replied, still looking at the screens and her own notes. “Maybe a little too well.”

“Gee, ya think?!” Weiss snapped.

Winter gently held Weiss back. “Can you please explain that?” she asked.

“The Infinite Energy is still in Weiss’ bloodstream,” Freya replied. “It seems that even the minute infusion of raw dust in it was enough to be activated by her semblance, thus vastly amplifying its effects and longevity.

“In short, it seems we seriously overdosed.”

“Would you happen to have an antidote for the Infinite Energy drink?” Winter replied. “Surely, someone like you would have something as a fail-safe for that?”

“I don’t,” Sucy replied flatly. “Surprising as it may seem, even my brilliance has its limits, and I haven’t somehow unlocked all of the mysteries of caffeine and how it affects the human brain. Your genes don’t help, either:

“It seems like whatever it is the doctors fixed about your DNA thanks to all your grandparent’s mutated chromosomes, it left behind or possibly even severely amplified the stimulant-sensitivity on your Faunus side...”

“So what am I supposed to do now?” Weiss asked.

“Just ride it out, I guess,” Sucy replied. She looked back, and grinned. “Well… unless you want me to start experimenting with your liver, and how quickly it breaks down certain chemicals...”

Freya’s ears and tails twitched as she glared at Sucy. “Manbavaran, as the top authority of this facility, and the one giving consent in Weiss’ stead for the moment: there is no way in hell you are performing any such procedure on her, and especially not in this facility,” she said flatly.

Winter protectively clutched Weiss to her chest as the two of the nodded in agreement, their expressions saying much the same.

“Oh, and like you haven’t done worse things to your own husband?”

“That’s because I’m of the unshakable belief that absolutely nothing in Remnant can kill Nick,” Freya replied coolly. “He has suffered FAR worse than my rooting around in his internal organs and skeletal system, making modifications and repairs with the help of an autodoc or my own two hands, in the lab or out in the field.

“However, like myself, Weiss is FAR less durable.”

Sucy was about to counter, before one of Al’s many extensions in the walls and the ceilings activated, a glowing blue spherical optic sensor extending out on a metal arm. “Dr. Freya. You have a visitor at the—ground-level entrance—requesting access--” he began.

“And who is it?!” Freya snapped. “They better be important, and have an appointment on my record that I’ve somehow forgotten about!”

“According to their—student ID—scan: it is ‘Rose. Ruby.’ Cross-referencing the database reveals that she is—Weiss’--teammate. That is why I did not reject her outright. Should I let her in? Or simply proceed as normal?”

Freya turned to Weiss. “Your call, vnuchka,” she said.

“One moment,” Weiss said, before she turned to Al’s extension. “Did she say why she was here?”

“I did inquire. Her reply was that she wanted to—check up on you and see if you were okay. Should I start compiling a report of your—medical examination—and send it to her?” Al paused. “I am assuming from your—sudden and dramatic—change in facial expression and body language that this would be the—incorrect—course of action.”

“You haven’t told her yet, have you?” Sucy asked.

“Not yet!” Weiss cried. “But I will! In time! When I’m ready!”

“Weiss. Your decision...?” Al asked.

Weiss looked back at Sucy and Freya. “Is there anything in particular I might need to know?”

“Nothing I didn’t already warn you about yesterday,” Sucy replied as she returned to her scroll. “Might want to make doubly sure about having someone to carry you back, just in case, though.”

“Then I’ll meet her at the lobby,” Weiss said as she got up, Winter following her.

“I will inform—Ms. Rose—that you will be coming back up shortly.”

“Thanks, Al,” Weiss said as they made their way out of the laboratory.

“Take it easy for the rest of today, Weiss!” Freya called out.

“I will, grandma!” Weiss replied, before she and Winter stepped out of the blast doors.

The two giant metal slabs slid back into place, its locking mechanisms groaning and whirring as it reactivated.

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Winter asked as they headed back to the elevator.

“Can you… please pretend that it’s not nearly as bad as it is?” Weiss asked. “I don’t want Ruby to freak out. And especially not find out about… you know.”

“I’ll put my theater electives to good use,” Winter said, beaming with pride.

“Thanks, Winter,” Weiss said, a small smile on her face. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t even think about it, little sister,” Winter said, ruffling Weiss’ hair before she called for an elevator.

“Weiss!” Ruby cried, brightening up as she saw her and Winter step out of the elevator and back into the lobby. She frowned. “Oh… wow… you look terrible.”

“Sleep deprivation tends to do that to a person, yeah,” Weiss said jokingly.

“You want to head back to our dorm, and try and see if you can catch some more Z’s?” Ruby asked. “Maybe stop by the dining hall and grab some moon bloom tea to go? Because you look the aftermath of finals week, and it’s only just the start of school, so I’m really worried.”

“She’ll be fine, Ruby, we just need to wait for the Infinite Energy’s effects to wear off completely,” Winter said, smiling. “I’m really, very sorry for ruining your team’s plans, but I believe Weiss is in absolutely no shape to do any sort of studying or tutoring right now. Can we please just get the whole day off together? Sucy and Grandma mentioned that she might just suddenly crash again like last night, so someone needs to be with her all day.”

“I promise, come the weekend, I’ll be back to normal, and will be doing most of the legwork for the assignments we’ll inevitably have,” Weiss added, forcing a smile.

“Oh, sure, that won’t be a problem at all!” Ruby replied. “I’ll go tell Akko and Diana, and I’m sure they won’t have a problem either; you managed to finish most of the homework and reading assignments we had, anyway!”

“I did...?” Weiss asked.

“Yep!” Ruby said. “Your notes got kinda screwy and weird by the end, but you’ve got outlines or complete first drafts for all our papers, and Diana and Akko say they can totally fix the bad parts, AND start figuring out how to help Akko study better now!

“We’ve… basically got pretty much all of today free, all thanks to you!”

Weiss blinked. “… Huh.”

“Well!” Winter said, beaming. “Isn’t that incredibly fortunate?” Her scroll suddenly beeped, she opened it up, and frowned. “… And it seems I just successfully tempted Fate just now.”

Weiss tensed up. “What happened?”

Winter sighed. “It looks like Qrow’s attempt to recruit a ‘grade-A spelunker’ he knew for our next expedition to the Hills went horribly awry…”

“Did he only give an address?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, yes he did, and don’t worry, Ruby, I already know exactly what that means...” Winter said as she dejectedly cleared her entire day planner.

“What does it mean?” Weiss asked nervously.

Winter put her hands on Weiss shoulders, and brought her face level to hers. “It means I’m sorry, Weiss, it looks like I won’t be able to spend the day with you after all; duty calls in the form of a drunk in distress...” she kissed her on the forehead. “Come on, I’ll see you back to your dorm...”

Weiss sighed as Winter got up and put a hand to her back.

Ruby noticed, and frowned. “Actually… you want to spend the rest of the day with me, Weiss? I usually don’t get to my schoolwork till the afternoon because all my errands back home were always in the morning, and I actually have some stuff Diana and Yang wanted me to do down in the city.

“You know, shopping for supplies for Akko, meeting up with some friends of Yang’s, stuff like that.”

“Are you sure you want me coming with you?” Weiss asked. “I might just pass out in the middle of the street.”

“Eh, I’ve got a cart with a bicycle, anyway, and getting out of school for a while might be good for you; worst case scenario, I’ll just throw in an umbrella and a sleeping bag, and get you back home along with the rest of the stuff!” Ruby said.

“And you won’t be overloaded when you’re done?” Weiss asked.

“I’ll just do the supply runs last, and like I said: sniper-scythe muscles!” Ruby replied, pulling her skirt up and showing off the parts of her leg uncovered by the short shorts underneath.

Weiss looked, her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose.

“Sounds like a solid plan to me!” Winter said, unaware of Weiss’ reaction. “Seems like it might be a good time for you and your new teammate to do some bonding yourselves.”

“What’d you say, Weiss? Interested?” Ruby asked. “I’ll understand if you want to just stay back at our dorm and just try to get back to sleep ASAP...”

Weiss shook her head. “No, you know what? A change of scenery might be good, let’s do it; it’d be nice to talk something other than economic concepts and graphs with you, anyway.”

“Yay!” Ruby said, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Then it’s settled: you two have fun out there, and hope I’ll be back here with Qrow in time for dinner,” Winter said as she made for the exit.

Weiss laughed. “We will, Winter!” she called out, before she turned to Ruby. “So, what’s first up on the list?”

“I was planning on hitting the bathhouse first!” Ruby said. “I don’t want to be all stinky and awful to all the crowds there, and well, you can REALLY use a bath and a change of clothes… I’m pretty sure that’s the same uniform you’ve been wearing since yesterday morning and slept in last night...”

Weiss looked down at herself, and blinked. “Oh, dust, you’re right!” she groaned. “I knew I was forgetting something…!”

“Don’t worry, Weiss, it happens to all of us—especially my Uncle Qrow!” Ruby said as they began to leave. “You know, this one time, while he was staying over at our house, he was so hungover and sleepy he missed his pants and put on one of Yang’s skirts instead—and it was one of those black and red plaid skirts, really short with metal studs on the belt.”

“Oh my gosh, how did you find out?” Weiss asked as they passed by the benches at the lobby.

“We were all at the breakfast table when he walked in wearing it. Dad tried to tell him, but we all couldn’t stop laughing—I mean, even our dog Zwei looked like he couldn’t breath.”

Weiss smiled “Then what happened next?”

Ruby stopped by an empty chair. “Then, he figured it out, so he put his leg on our kitchen table like this”--she put one leg up in a seductive manner--”and he went, ‘So, how do I look…?’” she said in a poor imitation of a gravel-voiced man trying to be sexy.

Weiss covered her mouth, her cheeks turning red.

Ruby put her foot off the chair. “He totally did, I swear! It gets even better: turns out, that was the SECOND time he ever wore a skirt without realizing it.”

“What was the first time?” Weiss asked.

“Back when he and dad were studying at Beacon,” Ruby replied. “Turns out, Qrow’d never worn a uniform before, and they told him it was a kilt...”

Weiss shook her head, smiling. “Oh, that’s just mean.”

“He got the last laugh, though!” Ruby said as she opened the door for Weiss. “He said all the girls couldn’t stop talking about how great his legs were,” she said, grinning.

Weiss snorted and shook her head. “… Thanks Ruby, I needed that,” she said as she they began to descend the stairs.

“You’re welcome!” Ruby chirped. “Since you didn’t get much sleep last night, I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

As the two of them headed back to their dorm to get a fresh change of clothes for Weiss, she started to think to herself, maybe that terrible, sleepless night was just the prelude to a good, if groggy morning together with Ruby, running errands with her in Mistral.

And with that, Fate was tempted once more.

Note: Assume that Winter talked about Qrow while Weiss was in the hospital, and showed a picture of him, at least. She did not show the several others of him she’s saving for blackmail, and times when she’s sad and needs a laugh at his expense.Believe me, those two skirt incidents mentioned are only the ones Ruby is aware of.