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Blake always woke to warmth.
She remembered the start of her and Yang’s relationship, when they were still figuring out who the big spoon and who the little spoon was, how their bodies molded together when they settled in for sleep. Yang was a walking, talking heater, and that caused some problems at the beginning, when she would wake up, sweating and enveloped by blistering heat.
Now, nearly 20 years into their relationship, they had descended into a familiarity with every aspect of each other. Every night they fell into bed and Blake curled against Yang, their legs tangling, their bodies pressed so tightly together that it was hard to tell where Blake ended and where Yang started. It was like Yang’s body heat had adjusted to Blake’s needs, like she was hardwired to frame Blake.
The steady rise and fall of Yang’s chest soothed her. Even after so much time of peace had passed, feeling Yang solid and alive against her comforted her. On particularly bad nights, when nightmares woke her up muffling a scream, Yang would pull Blake to her chest and she’d fall asleep to the sound of Yang’s heartbeat.
Over the years the nightmares had lessened, but some nights were still bad. She’d hear something rustle outside of the window and clutch onto Yang just a little bit tighter, and his voice would be louder than her own when she closed her eyes and was met with silence. She knew Yang was better at hiding hers, but she knew Yang better than Yang knew herself, so she knew the signs.
When Yang would hold what remained of her right arm and wince, Blake would gently ease the prosthetic arm off of her and rub lotion on the taut skin covering the wound, and when the phantom pain overwhelmed her, Blake would press kisses to the scars littering her arm and treat her to a rest day.
The nightmares slowly started to lessen, but the physical scars never went away. They’d both gotten past the point of feeling insecure about them, they were huntresses and it came with the territory. The stories still haunted them, but they learned to embrace them for what they were: a part of themselves and their story together.
Blake was jolted from her thoughts by the feeling of warm, soft lips brushing against her hip. She giggled and reached down, hands tangling in golden curls. “Good morning, baby.” She mused, and Yang pulled herself back up, her lips catching Blake’s own in a gentle kiss. Yang hummed, and Blake’s ears flicked happily as Yang responded, “Hey, beautiful.”
Yang opened her eyes, and she never tired of seeing the color of her aura, her own soul, reflected in them, and she knew that Yang felt the same.
“You’re not so terrible looking yourself.”
Yang snorted. “Well I’d hope not, since you married me.” To emphasize her words, Yang lifted Blake’s hand to her lips and pressed them against her ring finger, where a worn diamond band engraved with Yang’s emblem sat proudly on her hand.
“Tax benefits.” Blake retorted, and Yang snorted.
“Yeah, sure, tell that to our wedding pictures of you crying as you said your vows.”
Blake smacked her arm, cackling, “Says you! You were sobbing by the time I finished walking down the aisle.”
“Then I guess we’re even.” Blake laughed, but said nothing else. She was content to curl back up against her wife, letting the feeling of Yang’s arms around her and her face buried in between her ears lull her to sleep, but that didn’t last long before-
“Mama! Mommy!”
Nila Xiao Long-Belladonna came bounding into the room, her shouts waking Blake and Yang up from their drowsy bliss. Blake jolted, and Yang barely had time to react before a three year old body jumped directly on top of her, knocking the wind out of her.
“Mommy, mama!” She repeated, hopping off of her mother and burrowing in between them, deciding to shake Blake away. “Auntie Weiss is taking me for the weekend, we gotta go pack!”
If Yang was Blake’s everything, she didn’t have the words to describe what her daughter was to her. Her mom had always talked about how happy she was when she held her, but even the nine months of preparation were no match for the overwhelming feeling in her chest when she held Nila for the first time, watching her tiny black cat ears swivel around at all the sounds around her and her eyes open for the first time.
When Nila was first born, both of her parents had expected lilac eyes, so they were both surprised when they discovered that she had heterochromia, one eye a deep sapphire color and the other gold, just like Blake's. Kali had assured them that while rare, heterochromia wasn't uncommon among cat faunus children. Her eyes were where her name came from, Nila Aurelia.
The image of Yang crying when Blake handed Nila to her was imprinted in her mind, a core memory that she knew she’d never forget. Yang had been terrified of becoming a mother, a result of one mother leaving and the other dying, but for three years she had been the most attentive, loving, and caring mother in the world. And it showed in just how much Nila adored Yang. Nila looked a lot like Blake, with black curls and matching cat ears, but her wild personality came directly from her other mom.
All it took was a few visits from Tai and Qrow and a few stories of a three year old Yang lighting a hairdresser’s shop on fire when she was taken for her first haircut to prove that.
They didn’t get to sleep well into the morning these days, but it was okay. Blake would give up the whole world for Nila if it came down to it, and that’s what had scared her so much when they first brought Nila home; the fact that her love for her daughter was so overwhelming it terrified her. She knew what kind of demons lurked in the shadows, what kind of evil walked Remnant. She had seen them and experienced them firsthand and sometimes, she still did.
She could barely stand to be apart from Nila when she was a baby, frequently waking up in the middle of the night to sneak into her room and check on her, even when she was quiet and fast asleep. Nila’s doctor had told her that separation anxiety was common in new mothers, and Blake’s experiences as a huntress only heightened those anxieties.
Yang was the same way, but for slightly different reasons. She didn’t want to be Raven and be an absent mother, and she didn’t want to be Summer and put herself in harm’s way, risking leaving her daughter without one mother. It was one of the biggest reasons she’d become a stay at home mom, content to spend time with Nila and be present for her in all the ways her own mothers never were, the fault of one and the lack thereof the other.
Sometimes it showed in Tai, too. Blake knew that he felt guilty about not being there for Ruby and Yang when they needed him the most, forcing Yang into the position of the main caretaker at a young age. He tried to make up for it with Nila, always willing to drop everything with one phone call asking for a babysitter (though he usually had to fight an extended family of aunts and uncles, mainly Weiss and Ruby, for that job). Yang appreciated it, and Blake was happy that her and Yang’s own daughter could help with some generational healing.
Nila would never have to go through the loneliness that Yang went through, would never have to suffer the abuse that Blake did.
At the beginning, when Blake was still consumed by the new fears of a mother, sometimes she’d check in on her daughter and see him standing above her crib with that same sickening grin he had before dismembering Yang. On those nights Yang would wake up to Blake rushing back onto the bed, clutching Nila protectively to her chest as she sobbed.
On those nights, they’d bedshare with Nila, and Yang would hold both her wife and her daughter protectively with a kiss to each of their foreheads and a promise that they were safe. It had scared Yang, too, and Blake never missed the way her mechanical arm shook on those nights, but now, those nights were practically non-existent. On the nights he did show up, Blake would stare him down and will him away, instead focusing on the peaceful and safe form of her daughter.
It had been rough at first, but Nila was a bright and smart and adorable girl and though she may have been slightly biased, Blake was sure that she was the best daughter anybody could ask for. She had just discovered her aura and was excited to unlock her semblance, though watching Nila and Yang play fight in the backyard, Blake was content with Nila unlocking hers just a few years down the line.
Blake was jolted back to reality by Nila plopping down in her lap, pulling at her shirt. “Mamaaaa!” She whined. “Mommy fell back asleep!” Yang was met with a responding slap on her shoulder from her wife and she jolted up mid-snore, a playfully innocent expression on her face.
“Go on and get your clothes on, firecracker.” Blake told Nila, rubbing her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “They’re the one laying out on the floor right now. I’ll send your mom to help you pack while I make breakfast.” She urged her daughter off the bed, and after Yang mousled her hair with a grin and a kiss to her forehead, Nila hurried back to her room.
As the coule stood up, Blake eyed the stub of Yang’s left arm apprehensively. “Do you need help putting your prosthetic on?” Blake asked, her hand reaching up to trace one of the scars running vertically up her arm. Some days Yang could put hers on by herself, but others Yang struggled and needed Blake’s help to ease it on.
Yang’s face softened, her expression answer enough, and before she could respond, Blake was already standing at their dresser, delicately lifting the prosthetic. As Yang walked over to meet her, she lined up the top of the mechanical arm with Yang’s and gently pushed it on, wincing sympathetically when her wife grunted at the pressure. “All good?” She asked, and Yang nodded, flexing her arm and moving her fingers without issue. “Hurts a bit is all.”
“Make sure you put some of that cream on the skin right around the prosthetic, okay?” She pressed a kiss to Yang’s open palm and then her lips. “We’ve got a fun weekend ahead of us, I don’t want you to be hurting during it.”
At the mention of their weekend off Yang’s lips curled upward and her hands grabbed Blake’s waist, pulling her flush against her. Claiming her lips again in a deeper kiss than they liked to have in front of Nila, Yang whispered, “You don’t need to remind me about this weekend, baby. I’ve been thinking about it since we first planned it.”
Blake giggled and twirled out of her wife’s arms. “Save it for after Weiss picks Nila up.”
“You do realize Weiss is gonna be, like, two hours early, right?”
“She takes her role as aunt very seriously.”
Yang snorted but didn’t disagree. She finished applying the cream and slipping it back onto the dresser, kissing Blake one more time before she left, saying, “I’m gonna go help Nila get ready. The sooner she leaves, the sooner our weekend can begin.” She nipped at Blake’s bottom lip and slipped out of the room.
Weiss had been begging Blake and Yang for months to take Nila to Atlas for a weekend, but the parents had always been nervous about being without her for so long. They’d finally given in after Weis reminded them that it’d give them a whole weekend to themselves, though they knew deep down Weiss was doing it more to spend time with her niece than to give Blake and Yang some alone time. They knew Nila would come home with a whole SDC plane full of gifts, but they were long past the point of begging Weiss to stop spoiling their daughter; she’d been doing it since before Nila was born.
They hadn’t had a full weekend off since before Nila was born, so despite the anxiety Blake felt at being apart from her (she knew deep down Weiss would lay down her own life to protect Nila, but she was still a mother), she was happy to have Yang all to herself for a whole weekend.
They were going to cuddle while Blake read and Yang watched something on her scroll for a bit and then dress up and go out for a fancy dinner, stay there for as long as Yang could keep her hands to herself, and then stay in bed together for the rest of the weekend. Yang was thrilled at the plans, and so was Blake.
She finally left their bedroom, still in her pajamas, and settled into the kitchen to make a simple breakfast, since gods knew Nila would be getting fancy breakfasts the whole time she was with Aunt Weiss. A playful screech from Nila was heard as she hurried into the living room, followed by a laughing Yang, who finally caught up to their daughter and grabbed her, lifting her up and spinning her around in the air as Nila giggled hysterically.
The sight sent Blake’s heart fluttering, and she knew that no matter how many times she saw Yang and Nila act like this, she’d never get tired of it.
Blake and Yang had been through so much during all the time they knew each other, they both had their own demons and their own scars that lasted long after the dust had settled. But Blake had a beautiful wife (with matching rings and framed wedding pictures to remind her of it everyday), the most adorable and perfect daughter that she could have ever been blessed with, and a large and loving family, both born and found.
Fairytales had been a huge part of Blake’s life, and for the longest time, she believed that not all fairytales had happily ever afters, especially not hers. But she’d met Yang and the rest of Team RWBY and that had changed everything, and looking at her wife hold their daughter with matching smiles gracing both of their faces, Blake knew that what she used to think was wrong: she’d gotten her happily ever after.