Blake Belladonna: Matchmaker [Part 1] Blake sat on her bed in the empty dorm room. The sun was setting on a beautiful day spent on homework. The essay writing had left her feeling like she had just run a set of iron claws over her brain, and she needed to do something that wasn’t school related before she went insane. She looked at the empty beds across the room from her and felt a mischievous smirk forming as she thought about her two teammates. Ruby and Weiss had become friends, which had thankfully ended most of their arguing. Yang had almost thrown a celebration when the heiress had gone a day without questioning Ruby’s intelligence. Blake had been happy, too, but over the months, there had been the hints of something else, the possible signs of a deeper relationship.Blake Belladonna: Matchmaker [Part 1] by ~ObeseCommando
Once Blake had seen the signs, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head.
She had witnessed the longer, deeper eye contact Weiss gave Ruby which always ended with the faintest smattering of color on
RWBY- Seventeen Years: Saguntum (Chapter 1)RWBY- Seventeen YearsRWBY- Seventeen Years: Saguntum (Chapter 1) by ~knives4cash
Part Twenty-Five of my series "Pollination: The Bumblebee and White Rose"
However, this is the first part of a mini series.
Part One: Saguntum. Team JNPR wages war against Team RWBY in the Second Punic War. Let the legends take their places.
I was only nine years old. Young, foolish, ignorant, but eager of battle. My father was reluctant to allow me to watch as he and his army ravaged the southern half of Spain for Carthage. He took me to a temple and cut the throat of a lamb, carefully pouring its blood into a bowl. He told me to place my hands in the bowl. I obeyed, and he then told me to swear that, to my dying day, I would never be a friend of Rome.
It's warm today. This weather will make it harder for me to scrub the blood off my sword and shield. "Bah." I grunt to myself. I'm twenty-six years old, and I dote over myself like a child. Scratching my clean and shaven skin, I yawn as I continue my stroll through the camp. In my left hand is a torch, which I use