#ruby headcannons

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

You first met Ruby during a mission gone slightly sideways—typical of her, given her eagerness to jump into action before fully thinking through the plan. You remember her tumbling into your life with an embarrassed grin, offering a hand up before firing off a dozen hurried apologies and compliments about your weapon. That fascination was her way of bonding, and before long, you were swapping battle stories and tinkering together in her workshop late into the night. She’d chatter endlessly about Crescent Rose and her newest design ideas, her enthusiasm infectious. Soon, training sessions turned into cookie-fueled hangouts and midnight conversations on Beacon’s balcony, where Ruby’s laughter always seemed to make the world feel a bit lighter.

As her best friend, you’d quickly learn that Ruby wears her heart on her sleeve. She’s fiercely loyal, protective to a fault, and never lets you face danger—or a bad day—alone. When you’re struggling, she shows up, cloaked and determined, with your favorite snacks in one hand and Crescent Rose leaning nearby “just in case.” Her optimism never feels forced; it’s genuine, born from her belief that everyone has a little light worth protecting. With Ruby by your side, you find courage in your own heart too, because somehow, she always makes you believe that being good and hopeful still matters in a world that often forgets.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Ruby absolutely loves to cuddle, though she’ll never admit it outright. You notice it in the little ways she leans closer when you sit beside her, or how her hand always finds your sleeve when she’s talking excitedly about weapons or missions. She’s naturally affectionate and burns with quiet warmth like the red in her cloak. When you’re together, she’s always the first to pull a blanket around both of you, cheeks pink, laughing as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Ruby cuddles as though she’s afraid you might drift away if she lets go, all soft giggles and feather-light squeezes that remind you of her boundless energy and her constant need for closeness.

In quieter moments, she settles in with her head tucked under your chin, arms looped loosely around your waist while Crescent Rose leans safely nearby. The scent of cookies and oil from her weapon lingers in her hair, grounding her in that strange balance between warmth and battle-readiness. Ruby likes to talk while you cuddle—sometimes babbling about Grimm tactics, other times whispering little dreams in the dark. When she finally grows sleepy, her grip slackens just slightly, trusting you completely. With Ruby, a cuddle isn’t just affection—it’s her way of recharging, of reminding herself that even heroes are allowed to rest in the arms of someone they love.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You never thought Ruby would talk about settling down so soon, but when she does, her silver eyes light up with that same spark she gets when talking about weapons. For her, “settling down” doesn’t mean giving up the fight but finding peace between battles—a cozy little place with someone she trusts, where she can hang her cloak without worrying about the next mission. She dreams of quiet nights tinkering with Crescent Rose on the porch, of mornings spent laughing over coffee with far too much sugar, planning trips instead of strategies. When she looks at you, she makes it sound simple: she doesn’t need luxury, just safety, warmth, and maybe a garden full of wild roses.

At home, Ruby tries hard to be good at domestic life—but enthusiasm doesn’t always equal skill. She’s a messy cook, flour on her cheek and counters crowded with half-finished attempts at cookies or new recipe experiments that somehow end in burnt toast. Cleaning goes about the same way; she means well, dives into chores with energy, and then gets distracted by something shiny or mechanical halfway through. But even if the dishes aren’t done, she’ll still hum while sweeping, turning even the simplest tasks into moments full of life and laughter. Living with her means the air is always warm—not from perfection, but from genuine, messy joy.

You’ve always known Ruby wears her heart on her sleeve, every laugh and every sigh painted across her silver eyes. When she’s with you, her words tumble out like petals in a rush of wind—sometimes awkward, sometimes too honest, but always sincere. She’d spend quiet mornings tinkering with Crescent Rose while you watched her hum a tune to herself, the smell of oil and coffee filling the air. She’d drag you out on late-night cookie hunts and talk about fairy tales and impossible dreams until your eyelids drooped. But when the time came—when her chest grew too tight with guilt for not being able to give you the time or the steadiness you deserved—she’d do what she always does: face things head-on but with trembling hands. Ruby would ask to meet someplace that matters to both of you, her hood pulled close, a nervous smile flickering on her lips. In a soft, uneven voice, she’d tell you how much you mean to her, but that her path is pulling her somewhere she can’t ask you to follow. There would be tears, a hug that lingers too long, and one last promise whispered against your shoulder before she walks away—still looking back even as the wind catches her cape.

F= Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionaly?)

When Ruby first starts thinking about a future with you, it’s equal parts excitement and fear spiraling inside her chest. She’s the type to play it off with nervous laughter and a blush dusting her cheeks whenever the topic of commitment comes up, but her mind races with what-ifs and daydreams all the same. Commitment, to Ruby, isn’t something she takes lightly—it’s sacred, a promise that carries the same weight as her duty as a Huntress. You’d catch her glancing at you in quiet moments, her silver eyes soft as moonlight, thinking thoughts she’s not brave enough to say aloud yet. She’d analyze everything about herself—her long absences, her dangerous life, the people depending on her—and wonder if it’s fair to ask someone to share that world. Despite her insecurities, Ruby’s heart always leads her to believe love is worth the risk, and that being your partner means striving to protect not just you, but the bond you’ve built together.

When the idea of marriage appears, Ruby won’t rush headlong into it the way she would a fight or a mission. She’d want time—time to make sure your dreams align with hers, time to feel certain that she can give you everything she wants to. For someone so earnest, Ruby would treat engagement as a vow already; when she calls you her fiancé(e), it's not just a title, it’s a declaration of forever. She’d want the wedding small and heartfelt, surrounded by those she trusts most, with laughter, cookies, and maybe a few tearful speeches. But she wouldn’t need extravagance—just the certainty that you’ll still be there the next morning, smiling back at her under the same red sky. If she feels that, Ruby would be ready to say yes as soon as her heart could believe it.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ruby’s gentleness is the kind that sneaks up on you, soft and constant like snowfall on a quiet night. You notice it in the way her hands cradle yours when you’re hurt, the careful touch of her fingers as if she’s terrified of adding even an ounce more pain. Her voice, too, carries that same compassion—steady, bright, but trembling ever so slightly when she’s trying to comfort you after a hard day. She’ll tilt her head, silver eyes full of worry, murmuring little jokes just to make you smile, even if it means hiding her own heartache behind one. Ruby’s emotional gentleness runs deeper than words; she listens like every thought you share matters, and when you falter, she’s already there reaching out before you fall. With her, every hug is warm, every word is sincere, and even silence feels safe—as if the world itself slows down just to let you breathe beside her.

|= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

With Ruby, hugs are less a greeting and more a language. You barely have time to react before she throws her arms around you, giggling as if she hadn’t seen you in years even if it’s only been a few hours. She hugs impulsively—when she’s happy, when she’s scared, when she thinks you need it more than she does. Her hugs always carry purpose, like she’s trying to transfer warmth straight from her heart to yours. There’s no hesitation in her touch, no calculation, just pure sincerity. Sometimes she smashes into you with enough force to make you stumble, mumbling an apologetic laugh against your shoulder before just holding on quietly for a bit longer than expected. It’s in those moments you feel the weight she carries—how each embrace is her way of grounding herself as much as comforting you.

When days run long and battles wear her down, Ruby’s hugs shift into something softer. She’ll wordlessly slip her arms around your waist from behind, resting her head against your back, letting out a small sigh like she’s finally letting herself exhale. Those hugs say things she can’t quite put into words—gratitude, exhaustion, love, and the quiet fear of losing someone else she cares about. In private, she melts into your touch, laughing when you ruffle her hair or tease her about being clingy, though she never denies it. For Ruby, hugs are a small kind of armor—one she wears around the people she loves most. She gives them freely, without fear or restraint, as if each one might be the proof that even after everything, she still believes in the goodness of holding on.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Ruby’s the kind of person who says “I love you” before she even realizes she’s saying it. It happens one night after a mission, when her guard is lowered, her adrenaline gone, and you’re patching a nick on her arm while she chatters about how close that fight was. The words slip out mid-laugh, soft and bright, like she’s just thought them, not realizing she’s said them aloud until your stunned silence makes her freeze. Her cheeks would flare red instantly, eyes darting away as she stammers, trying to explain that she didn’t mean to blurt it—but she did mean it. Once she recovers, she’d grin shyly, admit it again deliberately this time, and then quickly follow with something awkward like, “You don’t have to say it back yet! But… I really do.”

Ruby was never one to admit jealousy, mostly because she’d never even realize it at first. It starts subtle—the way she fumbles with her words, her silver eyes darting between you and whoever’s caught your attention. She laughs a little too loud at jokes that fall flat, interrupts with random comments, or tugs at your sleeve like she’s trying to remind you she’s still there. When you admire someone’s weapon or compliment another Huntress’s aim, Ruby’s grin tightens just slightly as she insists on showing off Crescent Rose’s latest upgrade or recounts a mission she aced with you by her side. It’s not malicious—she’s just desperate to prove she’s good enough, not because she doubts you, but because she doubts herself. Her jealousy runs on insecurity rather than anger, a soft fear of losing your attention rather than your affection.

When jealousy builds too far for her to bottle up, Ruby becomes uncharacteristically quiet. You’ll find her tinkering at her workbench, metal clinking in rhythm with her unspoken thoughts. If you approach her gently, she’ll try to laugh it off, cheeks red, insisting she’s “not jealous—just thinking!” But Ruby wears her emotions too openly for that to fool anyone. Once she finally talks, her words come out fast and nervous: she’ll apologize for being silly and admit she just wants to make sure she’s still someone you look forward to being around. You reassure her, and she melts right back into that bright, giggly warmth that first caught your heart—hugging you like she’s afraid to ever let go again. It ends not with confrontation, but with that familiar Ruby kind of love—awkward, honest, and impossibly pure.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Ruby’s kisses are as full of life as she is—soft, quick, and often catching you off-guard. She isn’t the type to plan for perfect moments; instead, her affection bursts out whenever her heart feels too full to hold it in. You’ll be mid-conversation or laughing over something small, and suddenly she’s on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to your cheek or mouth with a tiny, breathless giggle. It’s never dramatic—just the kind of warmth that makes your chest ache in the best way. Her lips taste faintly of sugar from coffee or the last cookie she snagged from the counter, and every kiss feels like she’s saying, without words, that she’s happy you’re here. When she’s in a playful mood, she’ll trail kisses along your jaw or nose and then run off in a blur of red petals before you can react, leaving you to chase her down for a flustered payback kiss.

When things are quieter, Ruby likes to kiss the inside of your wrist or the corner of your mouth, small gestures that feel more like whispers than declarations. She says those are her favorite spots because they feel close to your heartbeat—something steady she can hold onto when the world feels like it’s spinning too fast. As for herself, Ruby melts when you kiss her forehead. It grounds her, reminds her that even Huntresses get to rest, to be loved with gentleness instead of expectation. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and lean into the touch like she’s storing the feeling for later. You’ll notice that she blushes deeply when you kiss her just behind the ear or along her jawline—tiny, hidden places that make her laugh and scrunch up her nose in surprise, because no matter how much she’s faced in battle, love still manages to fluster her completely.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

You notice right away how Ruby lights up around kids—like a spark catching on fresh snow. The moment a child tugs on her cape or asks about Crescent Rose, she’s kneeling down to their level, eyes gleaming with the same excitement they have for fairy tales and heroes. She talks to them the way she wishes adults had spoken to her when she was their age: with warmth, patience, and just enough awe to make them feel brave. She’ll let them wear her hood, make sound effects as she mimics battles, and then remind them how being kind and protecting others is what real Huntsmen do. Ruby gets flustered when the little ones adore her too much, cheeks pink and words tripping over themselves, but it’s easy to see how much she loves it. Around children, she seems softer—like for a moment, the weight of the world lifts, replaced by laughter, cookie crumbs, and small hands tugging her along toward fun.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Ruby always start in a soft blur of red and sunlight. You usually wake first, greeted by the gentle sound of metal clicking as she fusses over Crescent Rose on the floor, mumbling about small improvements that could make it fold faster. Her hair’s messy, sticking every which way from sleep, and she’s still half wrapped in her cape because she hasn’t quite decided if she’s getting dressed or going back to bed. When she finally notices you’re awake, her face lights up instantly—silver eyes bright, a quiet grin spreading as she scrambles to bring you a mug of coffee that’s mostly cream and way too many sugars. She talks a mile a minute while sitting beside you, swinging her legs, already planning the day’s training or daydreaming about new weapon designs. Between her excitable rambling and the lingering smell of cookies she probably baked before dawn, your mornings with Ruby always feel like the beginning of an adventure, even on the quietest days.

Nights with Ruby are never truly quiet, but they’re always warm. You’ll find her cross-legged on the bed or floor, Crescent Rose propped up beside her as she fiddles with a spare part or sketches something in her notebook, the soft hum of her voice filling the room. Sometimes she rambles about a new idea for a weapon or a dream she had about flying through the sky, pausing only to pass you a plate of cookies or ask if you think the new design looks “too over-the-top.” When she finally settles down, she curls up next to you, still wearing a faint grin even as sleep pulls at her eyes. The cape becomes a makeshift blanket, the smell of oil and sugar lingering in the air, and just before she drifts off, she mumbles something about how lucky she feels to have someone who’s willing to stay up late with her, talking about silly things and stars that seem just a little closer when she’s with you.

P= Patience (How easily angered are they?)

O= Open= (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

At first, being with Ruby feels like living beside sunlight—warm, bright, and full of energy—but you quickly learn that light can’t show you everything all at once. Ruby talks a lot, but most of it is surface-level: stories about Beacon, Crescent Rose’s upgrades, or animated retellings of how she and Yang used to prank each other as kids. She’s open in the way someone kind and trusting tends to be, generous with smiles and laughter, but careful in ways that take time to notice. When you ask about her dreams, she’ll ramble for hours; but when the topic turns to what keeps her up at night—the cracks beneath her optimism—she tightens up just slightly, like pulling her hood closer in a cold wind. It’s not out of distrust, just habit; Ruby’s used to worrying about everyone else first, and it takes time before she realizes you actually want to help carry some of her weight.

When she finally does open up, it isn’t a dramatic confession or one perfect night—it’s small admissions scattered between moments of silence. It’s her lingering next to you before a mission, mumbling about how scared she is of failing again. It’s her staying up too late, fingers tapping her knees, whispering stories about her mom she never told anyone. Once she begins, it comes slowly, like the soft melting of snow into spring; each day, a new detail, a new truth. Ruby doesn’t dump her soul all at once. She gives it in pieces, careful but sincere, and the more you listen, the more you realize how much of her heart she’s been holding in reserve. By the time she trusts you enough to show the parts she hides behind her hopeful grin, you’ll know that hearing one quiet, honest “I’m trying my best” from her means more than any grand declaration ever could.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You learn quickly that Ruby isn’t someone who gets angry easily—her patience runs surprisingly deep for someone so young and energetic. When things go wrong, her first instinct is to fix, not to lash out. She’ll fidget and pout when frustrated, maybe stomp her boots or cross her arms with a dramatic sigh, but true anger rarely finds her. Even when others lose their tempers, Ruby tends to defuse the tension with awkward humor, gentle words, or a nervous laugh. It takes a lot—betrayal, cruelty, or someone getting hurt—for her temper to truly flare. When it does, it’s sudden and sharp, a wildfire driven by love and fear rather than spite. You can see it in her eyes then, the silver gleam cutting through her composure as she fights to stay kind in a world that isn’t.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

It wasn’t one of the big, dramatic Huntsman-worthy adventures that stood out to Ruby—it was a quiet night on the Beacon rooftop, the stars scattered thick across the sky like silver dust. You’d sat beside her while she polished Crescent Rose, the comfortable silence broken only by the faint hum of the city below. She kept sneaking glances at you between turns of her wrench, cheeks pink from more than the wind. When you handed her a cookie wrapped in a napkin and told her she works too hard, Ruby laughed softly—the kind that made her eyes squint and her voice crack just a bit. That simple moment, with no monsters to fight or missions to complete, was her favorite because, for once, she didn’t feel like a leader or a hero. She just felt happy, sitting beside someone who saw Ruby Rose, not the Huntress.

T= Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

With Ruby, protection doesn’t come from a place of control—it comes from care that burns as bright as the petals she leaves behind in battle. The moment she senses danger, she’s between you and it before your mind can even register what’s happening, Crescent Rose already unfolding in a flash of steel and scarlet. Her silver eyes sharpen, her usual warmth replaced by a quiet, focused fire as she calculates ten different ways to keep you safe while still giving you space to fight beside her. She never underestimates you, but she can’t help shielding you from harm anyway, pretending she’s “just being efficient” while her hand trembles after every close call. When someone threatens or insults you, even in jest, her reaction is swift—sometimes a glare, sometimes a sharp remark, and if things escalate, she’s unflinchingly fierce. Yet afterward, she’ll laugh awkwardly, cheeks pink, muttering that she just “got a little carried away.” Deep down, Ruby protects because she’s seen too much loss already, and the thought of losing you feels like a wound that would never quite heal.

For her, being protected is something she rarely lets herself want, but secretly cherishes. She’s used to being the one who stands between her friends and the danger, so when you step up for her—whether by catching her before she falls, lingering near her flank in a fight, or even just checking in after a mission—it throws her off balance in the sweetest way. You’ll see the hesitation in her silver eyes, the way she tries to brush it off with a joke or a shy smile, but that small moment of vulnerability tells you everything. To Ruby, love and protection are intertwined through trust; she doesn’t want to be wrapped in armor, just believed in. When you remind her she doesn’t always have to be the hero—that she can lean, not just lead—she loosens her grip on the world a little and lets herself simply be Ruby, the girl in the red cape who’s finally safe enough to rest.

Dating Ruby means you’re constantly caught between quiet warmth and bursts of energy. She’s not the most polished or experienced when it comes to romance, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm that borders on endearing chaos. You’d come home to half-burned cookies shaped like roses and handmade cards with messy doodles of you two fighting Grimm side by side. Anniversaries are celebrated with things that matter, like visiting somewhere tied to your memories or her trying to recreate your first date—sometimes successfully, sometimes with hilarious mishaps. Everyday tasks turn into shared adventures: grocery shopping feels like a stealth mission, and fixing a shelf becomes a test of her engineering creativity and questionable use of Crescent Rose. She doesn’t chase perfection; her love shows in how hard she tries, how often she laughs when things go wrong, and how she always finds a way to make even the smallest day feel like something worth remembering.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Loving Ruby means learning how endearing chaos can be when it comes with a hopeful smile. She forgets things constantly—missions, dates, even where she set Crescent Rose down—and will laugh it off before realizing you’re the one retracing her steps through a field or a dorm room explosion of spare parts. When she’s stressed, she bottles everything up behind that bright grin until it spills out all at once in a ramble of apologies and half-finished sentences. Her workspace is a cluttered mix of oil stains, crumbs, and metal scraps; you once watched her eat cookies while tightening a rifle bolt like it was perfectly normal. She tends to hyperfocus too, skipping meals or sleep just to get something right, insisting she’s fine with dark circles under her eyes the size of targets. And though her optimism is infectious, sometimes she hides behind it too stubbornly—making you wish she’d let herself cry instead of smiling through the cracks.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

You quickly learn that Ruby isn’t one to linger in front of a mirror for long. She’s the type to brush her hair in five rushed strokes before tugging her hood up and calling it good enough. She worries less about looking perfect and more about whether her weapon is polished or her boots are sturdy enough for the next mission. Still, there are brief, shy glances—moments when she adjusts her cloak just right or touches the red tips of her hair with a small smile, wondering if you notice. Compliments always make her flustered; she’ll stammer a thank-you and distract herself with something completely random. While she doesn’t see herself as beautiful in the typical way, she enjoys when you think so—especially when you tell her she’s cutest when her cheeks are smudged with dust from a battle she’s already laughing about.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Ruby would never admit it at first, but you’d see it in the way her smile falters for just a heartbeat longer when she turns to share a joke and you’re not there. She tries to distract herself with her usual habits—tinkering with Crescent Rose, gulping down coffee, burying herself in missions—but the quiet moments always give her away. She’d sit under the moonlight polishing her weapon, whispering half of a thought out loud before realizing it’s meaningless without you to finish it. Ruby’s world has always been about keeping others safe, about being strong and steady, but with you gone, she’d finally understand what it means to lean on someone. She would still fight and lead, still smile for everyone else, yet a small part of her would always feel like an unfinished sentence—hopeful, but waiting for you to be the punctuation that made it whole again.

You never really understood how Ruby could find joy in the smallest, strangest things until you lived alongside her long enough to see it in motion. She makes a game out of everything—whether it’s balancing cookies on Crescent Rose, racing you through the halls with her petals trailing behind, or naming every stray bird that lands outside the window. Her laughter is contagious, the kind that makes even grim days feel lighter, and she somehow convinces you to join in every nonsense idea she cooks up. When she’s focused, she hums under her breath without realizing it—half tunes of old fairy tales and half sound effects of imaginary battles she’s fighting in her head. Sometimes you catch her sketching new weapon designs that accidentally turn into doodles of the two of you saving the world together. It’s in those quiet, silly moments you see how Ruby isn’t just a hero—she’s the kind of person who reminds others what it means to live in color.

Z= Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

You learned quickly that Ruby’s dislikes weren’t loud or dramatic—they were quiet wrinkles in her smile, small pauses where words used to be. She can’t stand cruelty masked as humor, that kind of mockery that makes others shrink; it hits too close to what she fights against. She gets uneasy around people who brag about power or chase glory for its own sake, because in her eyes, heroism isn’t about the spotlight—it’s about doing good when no one’s watching. You’ve seen her flinch when someone dismisses dreams as childish or scoffs at fairy tales, because those stories are the heart of who she is. And though she loves companionship, Ruby struggles with people who shut others out or hide behind cynicism; it pains her more than anger ever could. Messes don’t bother her, broken weapons can be fixed, but apathy—the refusal to care—is something Ruby could never stand for.