Glimpses into Another Time: Blake: More
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AndrewJTalon
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Kuo Kuana, Menagerie
Twelve Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The bedroom in their Kuo Kuana home was quiet except for the distant sound of waves and the soft creak of the old ceiling fan. Moonlight slipped through the slatted blinds, painting silver bars across the quilt. Blake Belladonna-Arc sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown, knees drawn up, tail curled tightly around her ankle like it was trying to anchor her. She looked tired—beautifully tired, the kind that came from twelve years of love, chaos, teaching, parenting, and never quite enough sleep—but there was something else in her amber eyes tonight: nervous anticipation.
The door opened with a gentle click.
Jaune stepped in, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, hair mussed from wrestling three toddlers into bed. He was still in his teaching clothes—rolled-up sleeves, a few chalk smudges on his forearm from the day's lecture—but his shoulders sagged with the familiar, bone-deep exhaustion of a father of ten.
"Phew…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, Lily, Willow, and Peony are asleep. Finally. They weren't nearly as bad as Milo, Leo, and Fenton, huh?"
Blake managed a small, shaky laugh. "Y-Yeah… Heh…"
Jaune crossed the room, dropping onto the mattress beside her with a sigh that ruffled the quilt. "Geez… ten kids. It's amazing, huh?"
Blake's ears twitched. "It… It really is."
He rubbed his temples, voice softening. "And exhausting. If we didn't have Ruby and Yang rotating in as nannies to help out, poor Trifa would be run ragged."
"Yup…"
Jaune leaned back on his hands, staring at the ceiling. "Leander and Leandra are getting moody now. Geez. Growing up way too fast. I don't know if I could handle more kids right now! We've gone through this so many times! It's just a grind! I swear, these are the last kids we're having!"
Blake went very still.
Jaune noticed. "Blake? What is it? Are you all right? Long day?"
She hesitated—ears flicking nervously—then slowly reached under her pillow and pulled out a small plastic stick. Ten of them, actually, lined up like tiny soldiers. All positive.
She handed him the one on top.
Jaune took it automatically. Stared at the double lines.
Blake's voice was barely above a whisper. "I did it ten times."
Silence.
"I… I know we tried all the kinds of birth control," she rushed on, words tumbling over each other. "I thought we were safe… But… Um… I-I just…"
Jaune's face was unreadable for a heartbeat too long.
Then he grinned—wide, bright, the same sunlit smile that had once made her heart stutter on a balcony a lifetime ago.
He pulled her into his arms so fast she squeaked, burying his face in her hair.
"Mmm…" He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her lips—soft, reverent, overflowing. "I love you. And I'm so happy we're having another."
Blake's breath hitched. Tears pricked her eyes as she hugged him back—fierce, desperate, like she could merge their heartbeats if she held tight enough.
"So am I…" she whispered against his shoulder.
Jaune laughed—quiet, joyful, exhausted—and kissed her again, slower this time.
"Eleven," he murmured. "We're gonna need a bigger house."
Blake sniffled-laughed into his shirt. "Or more aunts and uncles."
"Definitely more aunts and uncles."
They stayed like that—tangled together on the edge of the bed, moonlight pooling around them, the distant crash of waves keeping time with their breathing.
Eleven children.
A life neither of them had ever expected.
And somehow—impossibly—exactly the one they wanted.
Twelve Years After Salem's Defeat
- - -
The bedroom in their Kuo Kuana home was quiet except for the distant sound of waves and the soft creak of the old ceiling fan. Moonlight slipped through the slatted blinds, painting silver bars across the quilt. Blake Belladonna-Arc sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown, knees drawn up, tail curled tightly around her ankle like it was trying to anchor her. She looked tired—beautifully tired, the kind that came from twelve years of love, chaos, teaching, parenting, and never quite enough sleep—but there was something else in her amber eyes tonight: nervous anticipation.
The door opened with a gentle click.
Jaune stepped in, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, hair mussed from wrestling three toddlers into bed. He was still in his teaching clothes—rolled-up sleeves, a few chalk smudges on his forearm from the day's lecture—but his shoulders sagged with the familiar, bone-deep exhaustion of a father of ten.
"Phew…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, Lily, Willow, and Peony are asleep. Finally. They weren't nearly as bad as Milo, Leo, and Fenton, huh?"
Blake managed a small, shaky laugh. "Y-Yeah… Heh…"
Jaune crossed the room, dropping onto the mattress beside her with a sigh that ruffled the quilt. "Geez… ten kids. It's amazing, huh?"
Blake's ears twitched. "It… It really is."
He rubbed his temples, voice softening. "And exhausting. If we didn't have Ruby and Yang rotating in as nannies to help out, poor Trifa would be run ragged."
"Yup…"
Jaune leaned back on his hands, staring at the ceiling. "Leander and Leandra are getting moody now. Geez. Growing up way too fast. I don't know if I could handle more kids right now! We've gone through this so many times! It's just a grind! I swear, these are the last kids we're having!"
Blake went very still.
Jaune noticed. "Blake? What is it? Are you all right? Long day?"
She hesitated—ears flicking nervously—then slowly reached under her pillow and pulled out a small plastic stick. Ten of them, actually, lined up like tiny soldiers. All positive.
She handed him the one on top.
Jaune took it automatically. Stared at the double lines.
Blake's voice was barely above a whisper. "I did it ten times."
Silence.
"I… I know we tried all the kinds of birth control," she rushed on, words tumbling over each other. "I thought we were safe… But… Um… I-I just…"
Jaune's face was unreadable for a heartbeat too long.
Then he grinned—wide, bright, the same sunlit smile that had once made her heart stutter on a balcony a lifetime ago.
He pulled her into his arms so fast she squeaked, burying his face in her hair.
"Mmm…" He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her lips—soft, reverent, overflowing. "I love you. And I'm so happy we're having another."
Blake's breath hitched. Tears pricked her eyes as she hugged him back—fierce, desperate, like she could merge their heartbeats if she held tight enough.
"So am I…" she whispered against his shoulder.
Jaune laughed—quiet, joyful, exhausted—and kissed her again, slower this time.
"Eleven," he murmured. "We're gonna need a bigger house."
Blake sniffled-laughed into his shirt. "Or more aunts and uncles."
"Definitely more aunts and uncles."
They stayed like that—tangled together on the edge of the bed, moonlight pooling around them, the distant crash of waves keeping time with their breathing.
Eleven children.
A life neither of them had ever expected.
And somehow—impossibly—exactly the one they wanted.
